#superpowered whumpee

[shshshquietnow]

Whumpees with powers controlled by their emotions. Maybe other than that they have controll, but when they feel a certain way their powers will NOT be tamed.

Whumpees that turn invisible on instinct when scared. Whumpers that find this endlessly amusing, using man handling and a lot of physical touch because they've "got to make up for the visual unappeal."

Shapeshifting whumpees can't control their forms when angry. Lashing out at whumpers as a large bear or wolf before being restrained, brought to a cage sense "They're so insistent on acting like an animal."

Whumpees with electric powers that get turned up to ten while in pain. Everything whumper does gives them an electric shock, making any torture or punishment very frustrating for the whumper. Even if whumpee can't control it, can't do it on purpose, even if they apologize a thousand times, they are still spurned, told that "they should know better than to try THAT little stunt again."

Empath whumpees that can't help but project their strong emotions. Whumpers having to step out of the room while torturing them, or whumpers that get the smug satisfaction of feeling a wave of relief as they walk back into the house to their whumpee. Of course no good things will happen when the whumper realizes what's going on, but that won't be for a while. Caretakers rattled by anxiety and fear so overwhelming they don't know what to do, holding whumpee too close or even running, scared they're going to hurt them all over again. But also caretakers crying tears of joy when they realize why they felt so good all day: they finally made whumpee feel safe.

Whumpees that grow armor when they feel threatened, whether that be crystals growing from their skin, or thorns or whatever else. On top of the pain of whatever whumper is about to do to them they have the pain of new material growing and pricking out of their skin. Whumpers that sigh, over compensating for the armor with the pain they cause because "You're over reacting, it's not going to be THAT bad."

Whumpees that have power over plants, flowers blooming when they feel safe and warm, withering when they're depressed or lonely. Whumper's garden never grew well, not until they broke whumpee in. And after rescue caretakers garden was rotted down to the soil, but as time went on their garden flourished, more beautiful than whumper's garden could ever be.

Whumpees that subconsciously control other people's powers, making them more or less powerful depending on how much whumpee trusted them. Whumper getting annoyed beyond belief after their powers STILL barely function, even after weeks of trying to manipulate whumpee to staying. Caretaker scared for whumpees life after a rescue, none of their healing powers working on whumpee because they don't trust that this rescue isn't another of whumper's tricks.

Whumpees that can only charm abd mind control when they're most desperate. Screaming first whumper to stop until finally right before the worst punishment they do, whumpers getting PISSED, continuing on once the enchantment wears off with new found rage because "you don't get to control me, I control you."

Whumpees with "Spider senses", knowing when whumper is approaching, feeling the tingle right before every new method of torture is used. Their senses going HAYWIRE when whumper is in the room, overwhelmed.

Whumpees letting out powerful bursts of kinetic energy when it gets too much, sending anything near them flying several feet away from them. Frustrating for whumper, sure, but even MORE dangerous for the caretaker trying to save the poor confused bomb waiting to go off.

Just yes <3

#whump #whump community #superpower whump #magic whump #magic whumpee #superpowered whumpee #whumpee #whumper #caretaker #healer caretaker #hero whumpee #villain whumpee #if you want #manhandling #caged whumpee #captivity whump #cruel whumper #quiet whispering

[zoethehead]

Another whump idea on the brain.

(Yes, this is slightly based on "invincible ", but just the 'beaten up so badly by a powerful force that they're clinging onto consciousness by a thread' trope)

The Whumpee is a supernatural being, but the whumper is just as-- if not more powerful than the whumpee, and therefore is able to beat the whumpee into the ground; severely injuring the whumpee in the process. The whumper then leaves, the whumpee is left in a crater in the ground, covered in their own blood and beaten up, they aren't even fully conscious; the pain and the amount of blood lost being too much, their breathing labored as they cough up blood, trying desperately to get up; but they're too weak.

They soon pass out fully, not even registering arms picking them up and carrying them away.

All they hear is a voice reassuring them that they're gonna be fine.

#whump #whump prompt #half conscious #barely conscious whumpee #semi conscious whumpee #semi unconscious #beaten up #unknown caretaker #kindness of strangers #stranger caretaker #superpowered whumpee #superpowered whumper #supernatural whumpee #supernatural whumper

[newbornwhumperfly]

whump aesthetics • vanyel ashkevron (a sad sweet gay wizard boy from mercedes lackey’s the last herald-mage trilogy)

a (belated) birthday gift for @much-ado-about-whumping - for vanyel is their beloved childhood blorbo! 💙🎂💙🎂💙

#in other news nostalgia reveals our whumpee Types huh? 💙🥰💙 #vanyel ashkevron #the last herald mage #whump aesthetics #much-ado-about-whumping #whump #whumpee #superpowered whumpee #angst #emotional whump #fantasy whump #magical whump

[pigeonwhumps]

Bloody betrayal

Whumptober masterlist

Day 24: FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE |blood-covered hands | "I don't want to do this anymore" | catatonic

Alt 12: Carried to safety

+ this prompt by @whump-all-the-way

After Whumpee's betrayed and beaten by their team, Caretaker rescues them.

1.2k words

CWs: past beating, past betrayal, aftermath of a beating, past captivity, past choking, past stabbing, implied torture, emeto

Whumpee crawls out of the sewer and slumps against a shop door, hand pressed to their throbbing ribs, now broken as well as slashed, blinking away pained tears. They'd expected some sort of response to their return – suspicion maybe, they'd understand that, relief or joy even. They'd hoped for treatment for their injuries. They are... were friends, after all. But not... not this.

Not a beating as bad as Whumper often gave them. Not for Leader, who took them under his wing, who they looked up to for years, to punch them as soon as he saw them. Not for Teammate, their so-called 'best friend', to look at them coldly as they lay on the floor and demand to know what they'd betrayed, knuckles bloody.

Whumper called them an animal, a nothing. They didn't realise their team would feel the same way.

They thought Whumper broke them, when he finally conditioned them to stop reacting to hits, to call him Sir and thank him for the pain. But apparently there was a part of them left that still hoped. Hoped for a reunion, friendly voices, to belong again in a place that wasn't a cell.

A part of them left to break.

Not any longer though. That's gone.

Whumpee runs a wet hand down their aching face. Are there– they thought that muzzle scarred. It certainly felt like it dug in enough to.

Did it not? Or did their team just not care?

Whumpee groans and closes their eyes, whole body throbbing. They really took a pounding back there. Oh, their team left them alone, of course, once they were thoroughly beaten down. Left them in a cell, probably to come back to the next day. Without even any restraints.

Whumpee snorts at that, then claps a broken hand to his head. If they'd bothered to care about what happened to him, they'd never have left him unrestrained. They're not as hopeless at escapology as they once were. But they did.

They did, because they didn't care.

Whumpee needs to move soon, before their former team comes out looking for their prisoner. But they really can't summon up the energy to. What do they have left, after all? Where can they go? All they had was the hope of seeing their team again, and that's gone now.

"You realise you're leaving a trail of blood, darlin'? I can follow you all the way to your HQ."

Whumpee looks up to see someone standing on the opposite doorstep, wearing a black trenchcoat and hat, and smoking a cigarette. He pushes himself off the wall and stubs out his cigarette when he sees Whumpee's face.

"What the 'ell 'appened to you?"

Belatedly, Whumpee realises that they didn't bother to wipe their face. Their teammates earlier didn't notice anything was wrong, why the fuck would anyone else?

Apparently, someone else would.

"None of your business. Just fuck off."

The man frowns. "Your voice. You been choked lately?"

Whumpee feels a lump in their throat, and holds still as the man approaches, tracing the air above their sensitive, bruising throat. Their hands twitch to use their powers and hold the man off but they've learned over the past two months what happens if they even appear to be using them. So they just watch, warily, as the man touches their bruises lightly.

It's a kinder touch than they've had in months. This stranger is being kinder than their own team and they don't trust it.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"Making sure you can still breathe right, since you ain't doin' it."

"You can't tell that from... that."

"Sure I can. Dunno why I bothered though, it's clear from the arguing that you can. Didn't you 'ave some sorta power last time we met?"

"We've never met."

The man shrugs with an air of deliberate nonchalance. "If you say so." Whumpee slumps forward, suddenly drained, and the man puts a hand on his chest, holding him upright. "Woah. Easy there darlin'. Want help gettin' back 'ome?"

"'m not– not going back to base. And I'm not helping you either. Just to be clear. I'm done with this fight. I've been on both sides and neither's worth it. So either kill me or leave, I'm no use to you."

"Oh no you don't, darlin'. Well, you don't have to fight, but you'll die if you stay here. And I'm not lettin' you die... Whumpee, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Who are you?"

"Caretaker. Well, that's not my real name o'course, but maybe if you stay long enough you'll find it out. So. You comin'?"

Whumpee pauses, looking the man up and down. He looks... sincere, but not honest, although Whumpee themself isn't always honest either. Technically, he's also their enemy, but they don't really have any allies left.

And he's right. They will die if they stay here, if not now then as soon as their team finds them. Or maybe not as soon as. Maybe the team will beat them up some more first. They nod, regretting it as their head throbs.

"Fine. I'll come."

Caretaker grins. "Excellent. Can you walk?"

"I don't–" Whumpee tries to lever themself up against a wall and falls with a yelp as they try to put weight on their ankle and an agonising pulse runs up their leg. "Maybe not."

"Well, I'm gonna have to carry you then. 'old still." Caretaker hefts Whumpee into his arms, cursing as he stumbles. "You eaten anythin' lately? Cos it sure don't feel like it."

"Not for a while," mumbles Whumpee, clamping their lips shut as their stomach roils and everything hurts from the jolting. "'m gonna be sick."

"Well don't do it on my coat, it's already got your blood on it. Far too much in fact. You been stabbed?"

"Slashed," murmurs Whumpee, before retching. Caretaker tips them sideways so their bile falls onto the pavement, waiting patiently for them to finish.

"You done?"

"F'r now."

"Well, can you hold on until you're not gonna throw up on my favourite coat?"

"Probably?"

"That'll do." And Caretaker takes off walking at a brisk pace. Whumpee slumps against his chest, unable to hold themself up anymore. Even if this man does mean harm, they're in no shape to defend themself. No point bothering to try.

"Dammit darlin'. Hold on just a lil bit longer, come..."

Caretaker's voice fades, along with the rest of the world.

_

Whumpee half-wakes to the sound of voices.

"How are they?"

"They'll live, boss. And their wings should grow back, if the latest research is correct. But it's weird."

"What is?"

"I did an MRI scan to check the state of their brain, because I needed to see what that knock did to it, and it looks like someone's been meddling with it. There's energy traces in there. It's not just a concussion causing problems."

There's a growl. "Someone with powers has been inside their brain?"

"Yes, boss."

""That's... that's why they don't remember me, int it?"

Whumpee groans, wanting to ask what's going on, why Caretaker sounds so unbearably sad, but their mouth won't obey and nor will their eyes and before they can try to move their aching body, the world fades again.

When they wake, they won't remember this conversation at all.

_

Picrews (link) - Whumpee just after being treated, Caretaker, and Medic

#whumptober2022 #no.22 #blood covered hands #'i dont want to do this anymore' #altprompt 12 #carried to safety #oc #fic #altprompt #whump #whump writing #betrayal #beating tw #aftermath of beating #emeto tw #superpowered whumpee #powered whumpee #winged whumpee #ex winged really #caretaker and whumpee #amnesiac whumpee #reunion #technically

[graphicnovelist]

You what’d be fucked up?

Someone is tortured for information but after enough defiance and attempts to alert other people for help, their captor opts to cut out their tongue/sew their mouth shut/ some other way of stopping them from talking and instead bring in another whumpee, a telepath, to read their mind and find out what their captors need. However, first victim’s mind is jumbled with pain and/or panic, which makes it difficult and painful to read.

Bonus points if the two whumpees care about each other, so you get an extra added later of emotional torture.

#whumpblr #whump ideas #intrusive thoughts #i’m writer #multiple whumpees #superpowered whumpee

[harleys-library]

Burning Lights

CW: light manipulation, superpowered whumpee, ballroom party, billionaire whumper, implications of past torture and human trafficking, use of the term pet in reference to whumpee, revenge attempt (successful), explosion and fire, assumed death.

__

Sasha was a star.

A bright, broken, bleeding sun. They dangled from their harness, their arms stretch out elegantly as the ballroom filled with more investors and colleagues. Melissa had found the perfect entertainment for their little parties. For Sasha had the power to absorb and manipulate light and heat, shining like the beautiful star they were.

Melissa sat at the dining table, watching their beloved pet twirl and twirl. Four months of training, four disastrous months of beating Sasha into submission. But now they were here. The billionaire and their shining star.

Melissa squinted their eyes abruptly; a headache had begun to form as they had been staring into the light. They noticed their guests raise a few hands to shield their eyes as well. They pushed off the table and tried to regain the flow of their party. What was Sasha doing?

They’d given them the nutrients and resources needed, though only enough for the desired amount of light. They hadn’t wanted Sasha to get any ideas on blinding their guests. They’d certainly not given enough resources for them to be doing exactly that.

Across the ballroom, the other performers began to notice, pausing their show to watch. Melissa made a gesture with their hand, catching the gaze of one of them. Frightened, they began to perform again, moving into the hall and drawing people away from the ballroom and into the banquet. With something new to look at, the crowds disappeared quickly. Though Sasha only shined brighter. Melissa’s guards had begun to surround Sasha, who was suspended from the room. Their eyes had shut tight.

Melissa watched as the room engulfed into light, and with it pain. Their eyes stung and burned, and they felt a pair of hands on their shoulder. They yelped.

“You need to get out of here.”

Their first in command all but dragged them out of there, and Melissa seized up as they heard the clicks of the harness coming undone. They entered the banquet hall alongside the guests, and all eyes turned of them.

“One of our performer’s is having a medical incident. I’m sure you understand. It is being handled, please, enjoy the party.”

A performer to the left proceeded to do a backflip, and the attention switched back to the show. Melissa exhaled, only to see light begin to pool out from under the shut door to the ballroom.

Over their earpiece they could hear their guards grunting that they were handling it, though light continued to shin through the cracks of the door. How was Sasha doing this? And more importantly, why?

Stars were beautiful. Bright and pulsing with light. Fusing atoms into their cores, generating heat and warm and sun. Our world revolved around a star surrounded by stars.

My little star.

Sasha was a star, but stars don’t shine.

They burn.

The ballroom exploded in a wynnorific display of flames and light. And it was beautiful.

#My writing #my writing cannot be used copied or reposted on any platform #n0t a prompt #not a prompt #light manipulation #light powers #superpowered whumpee #whump writing #whump #billionaire whumper #ballroom party #implications of torture #implications of human trafficking #slight pet whump #character death #explosion #fire #I'm proud of this short story #whump writer #writers on tumblr #writing snippet #writing #short story #whump snippet #whump story #whumpee #whumper #orignial characters #star metaphor #stars

[cakeinthevoid]

Dream a Little Dream

Whumptober No. 8: Cashing in an alternative!

Betrayal

Content: Chained up, isolation, betrayal.

Really wanted to challenge myself to write something short again... Very stream of conscious.

Ceres wished they could have been surprised. Unfortunately, they were all too aware of their own flaws, and so why anyone would turn them in.

It still hurt a little. They thought it must hurt less with time, that one day, they would finally get well and truly used to it. They were beginning to doubt that day would come.

Sure, they accepted their fate, hanging from the iron chains roped through loops around the room. They've come to terms with the fact that, once again, they were sold out.

Ceres wished they spent longer basking in moonlight.

It hurt to think about that too, so they thought about how they could survive this instead.

If they should survive this.

The manacles around their throat, wrists, and ankles seared their skin. Ceres would not be able to leave their skin for a long while, with all the stimuli grounding them to the present. What use was a dreamwalker who couldn't dreamwalk?

Was that the goal? Make them useless?

Clearly they already were, according to Meena. And to think... No, better not.

They needed focus—focus on something other than the burning in their raised arms, the ache in their back, and the pain in their knees.

So they sang a lullaby. It sounded broken on their whisper of a voice, but it was home.

And, truly, it was all they had.

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #alternative #betrayal #chain whump #original content #my cake #OC #OS Ceres #superpowered whumpee #pathetic whumpee. real wet cat of a whumpee #wish I could beam my mind into yours

[chaotic-orphan]

Oh hey , hope u are doing well , I was wondering if you'd continue the post where the hero has electrical powers and the villian has telepathy

Intoxicating fear (II)

A crude awakening

Part one // Masterpost

*~*~*~*~*

A snap of fingers in front of Kit’s face and his eyes snapped into focus, his body jolting forward slightly. Kit blinked, head pounding as he tried to take in his surroundings.

His head was fuzzy, memory hazy as he tried to remember how he got here. Wherever here was.

He was standing up, his arms above his head. When he tried to pull them down, he heard the snap of chains. Warning bells sounded clear in his mind as he tugged them down again, but they didn’t budge.

Kit groaned as he looked up to see his hands locked into metal cuffs, attached to a chain that went all the way to the ceiling.

“Good. Very good, Malyn. So responsive. So suggestible,” a silvery voice purred behind Kit.

Kit froze for a split second before his reflexes kicked in. He snapped his fingers on instinct reaching for the electricity in the air. Familiar blue lightning sparked to life and Kit screamed as his entire body jerked in the chains. His body ceased, winding tight as his own electricity was weaponised against him. Kit grit his teeth as his body was forced to endure. The chains holding him up rattling as Kit’s body fell like dead weight once the electricity ran its course through Kit’s body.

A couple aftershocks jerked Kit’s muscles in his shoulder, and Kit sucked in a second cry of pain at the strain on his shoulders.

A cool hand rested on the back of Kit’s neck. Kit froze again, his muscles in his legs riding out random spasms from the aftershock as Kit forced his legs to stand himself up straight. His feet slipped as he tried to get his balance, accompanied by a sloshing sound. Kit glanced down to see his feet in a basin of water. His shoes and socks taken off and his trousers rolled up to the knees.

“You’re not as bright as I heard you were, Malyn,” said that horrible voice behind him. Kit’s heart thundered against his chest, as the hand slinked around Kit’s neck to come and stand in front of him.

It was Omen.

It was Omen.

Kit knew it was Omen, obviously, he just didn’t really want to believe it.

That meant that Omen had actually taken Kit against his will. Taken him and made him forget the way to Omen’s fucking dungeon, and Other Hero was still at the fairground.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey, Malyn. Calm down,” Omen said, his voice so far away. Kit’s head dipped, gasping on air, trying to breathe, but his body wouldn’t let him. Instead, he was panting, chest rising too quickly and falling too shallow for him to take in any oxygen.

Fuck.

Not in front of Omen.

He was trapped with Omen.

Tears streamed down his face as the realisation settled loud into Kit’s mind.

No one knew where he was.

No one was coming to find him.

He was chained in front of Omen, his… the—

Two hands on his cheeks and Kit’s wide eyes went to Omen, recoiling as much as his chains would let them.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

Kit gasped, looking into those dark eyes and wanted to cry as Omen spoke again: “Oi, Malyn. Relax.”

Kit’s body obeyed the command. His lungs forced to breathe, his muscles unwinding from tightness against his will, his mind still screaming at him as his body flooded with the ice coldness that followed Omen’s commands.

“There we go,” said Omen, grinning, as his thumbs rubbed the tears from Kit’s cheeks. When did he cry? “I knew you were scared of me little hero, but having a panic attack over me? I’m honoured.”

“G-go fuck yourself,” Kit ground out with a shiver. Omen tsked stepping back away from Kit, his grin spreading into a horrible smile on his pale red lips. Kit yanked at the chains holding him up and tried to steel his expression into a (hopefully) threatening one.

Omen hummed, tilting his head as he slipped his hands into tailored trouser pockets.

“Hmm, I think you should be nicer to me, Malyn,” Ambrose said, smile and happy tone contrasting his words: “If you piss me off I might just forget to come down here and give you food and water, let you use the bathroom. Keep disrespecting me and I’ll leave you to die in a pool of your own faeces. Understand?”

Kit didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to agree. He didn’t want to do anything other than not be here. Not be standing in front of Omen, the man who ruined his life. Fucking Omen of all people! Forcing his body into a synthetic calm.

Kit licked his lips, asking: “What do you want with me?” He cursed his voice for coming out quiet. Quieter than he’d like to have it be in front of this monster.

Omen’s smile seemed to grow if that was even possible.

“I want to know why you fear me so much,” Omen said, amusement lacing his curiosity. He didn’t get closer, he gave Kit space, but his eyes. His stare. It felt so invasive.

Too invasive.

“You can just look, can’t you?” Kit snapped, pulling at his chains. Omen’s eyes flashed at the emotion, flicking lazily up at the chains then back at Kit.

“You know, Malyn. Taking you was a spur of the moment thing, so I had to prepare all this for you,” Ambrose said, gesturing to the chains and the water. “To keep you. To hold you. I know Superhero, know how hard he tried to keep you secret from me.”

Omen stepped forward and Kit flinched. Then cursed himself for it as Omen let out a dark chuckle.

“I don’t think I’ll get used to that. That raw, primal fear— like I’m the most repulsive person to ever live.”

“You’re a villain,” is all Kit said in reply, cursing the croak in his voice.

Omen cocked an eyebrow. “You flinch at every villain? Then you don’t have the stomach for the job, hero. Sorry to be the one to tell you.”

Kit’s hands balled into fists above his head as Ambrose took another step closer. Kit forced himself to stay still.

“What’s with this stupid game of cat and mouse, huh?!” Kit demanded, leaning forward slightly. If Omen wanted to close the gap to intimidate Kit, why shouldn’t Kit do the same? “You can read minds. Just take all the information you want and leave me alone!”

Omen grinned. His eyes drilling into Kit’s. Kit suddenly became very aware of his body, his heart drumming against his ears as Ambrose said nothing. He just stared.

“Here’s the thing, Malyn. I know you’re new on the hero/villain scene so I’m willing to go easy on you,” said Omen casually. He walked around Kit, past Kit’s line of sight. Kit tried to turn to follow him with his eyes, but his body wouldn’t move. He was forced to stare ahead as Omen continued.

“I’ll tell you why I won’t take your source of fear from your beautiful, terrified mind. It’s because—”A hand went to the back of Kit’s neck, fingers lacing through his hair and yanking his head back. Kit cried out as he found Omen’s cold eyes staring down at him. “—you protest too much. Clearly, that’s part of why I’m so terrifying to you, isn’t it? You want it to be easy like it was with Mentor. You want me to twist your mind until you can barely see straight.”

Kit tried to yank his head free, but Omen wrenched him further down and Kit hissed through gritted teeth. His shoulders screaming at him to stop struggling.

“I’m not going to do that, Malyn. You’re going to tell me why you’re afraid, and I’m going to be there. Watching every micro expression on your face as you do. Maybe there’ll even be some more of your delicious tears…maybe not.”

Omen wrapped a hand around Kit’s throat, grinning as he felt Kit swallow under his palm. He tightened his grip, and that’s when Kit’s fear took over. Blinding and incapacitating as Omen cut off his air.

He couldn’t breathe.

Omen was above them drinking in every pathetic struggle. Kit’s arms pulling at the chains, his feet slipping in the water below, every effort in his body to try and get a sliver of air into his lungs.

“Listen to those sounds you make, Malyn,” Ambrose said, his silvery voice the only solid thing Kit had as he desperately thrashed in Omen’s grip.

Omen watched, basked, waited until he saw the electric blue flash through Kit’s eyes. He waited a beat longer before seeing Kit’s resolve settle.

Omen let go at the last second.

The last second that Kit’s power took over in his panic and his body erupted in crackles of lightning that coursed through Kit’s veins and he screamed.

Every fibre of his being lit on fire as his electricity burned through his nerves, tearing them to shreds and leaving only pain in its wake. His jaw was clenched so hard he thought his teeth would break from the force; his neck stretched at an awkward angle as he twitched unable to correct it. Black encroaching on his vision as his body ceased against his own ability.

A normal person in Kit’s circumstance would be dead by now. In a basin of water, his wrists trapped in metal it turned his body into a perfect conductor. Omen may as well have put Kit in an electric chair.

Kit should be dead, but his ability, stemmed from a sensitivity to electric currents rippling through the air, also gave him a certain robustness to electricity. He thought meant he could withstand electric currents passing through his body easy.

That was until now.

Until Omen used Other Hero against him.

Until he nearly burnt himself unconscious not a few minutes ago.

He should be dead.

Except he just hung limp in his chains. His feet had slipped and so his toes were the only part of him on the floor; his were knees bent from exhaustion. All his body weight rested heavily on his toes and wrists. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself up.

Omen walked around Kit at some point during his second taste of his own power and dipped his head, so he was eye level with Kit.

Kit didn’t even have the energy to move his head as Omen took his chin in his cold grip, tilting Kit’s head to meet Omen’s black eyes.

“See? All this effort to try and escape me out of your delicious fear. Why in the world would I just take what I want when you’ll destroy yourself not to give it to me?”

Kit was happy that the darkness around his edges flooded his vision, and he was dragged blissfully into unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

#writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #writing #hero villain whump #hero villain angst #hero villain superpowers #scared hero #terrified hero #invasive villain #intelligent villain #intelligent whumper #invasive whumper #choking #captivity whump #hero captivity #Whump writing #intoxicating fear #terrifying villain #hero whumpee #villain Whumper #hero x villian #villain x hero #whump drabble #whumpblr #orphan writing #orphan

[whumpandthewild]

superpowered whumpee who is both touch-starved as fuck, and can't stand any type of touch because their powers make even the slightest ones hurt. at the same time. good shit

#whump #whump prompt #superpower whump #hero whump #villain whump #whump writing #touch starved whump #whump trope #magic whump #magic whumpee

[fallenwhumpee]

A dear mutual showed me • this • a while ago, so here I go. I hope you like it ( sorry for taking this long and writing short)

"Just do as they say."

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Forced to hurt, electrocution, superpower whump, intimate whumper, drugging.

Leader looked up, struggling to focus, but Teammate knew they understood what this was about partly.

Teammate gulped.

"Just do as they say," Leader's voice came, weak. Whumper slapped them to shut them up. Leader swayed, and Whumper's hold on their collar was the only thing keeping them up.

They wouldn't be in this situation if Teammate was more careful. If Teammate had been better. Their had no control over their power, despite Leader trying to help them.

They would either fry Leader or just cause a light itch.

If Leader had been conscious enough, they could break free. Leader's telekinesis could get them out. There was no way to block it if not for the drugs kept them apart from reality.

Or think of a way out.

Teammate couldn't do that. They couldn't even stay calm, couldn't assure Leader that it was going yo be okay. Couldn't do even a bit of what Leader had done in the last few hours.

"What are you staring at? Do it, or I will decide on another experiment. One I will enjoy even more~" Whumper chirped.

Teammate had a feeling they would do it anyway.

"Are you waiting for me to stop their heart?! Do it already. I will leave you alone for the day. Isn't that what you want?"

Leader's eyes met Teammate's, a silent plea for trust and understanding. Teammate knew that Leader believed in them, even when they couldn't believe in themselves.

With a shaky breath, Teammate desperately focused on their own powers. A swirling vortex of electricity began to crackle around their fingers, the raw energy of their abilities sizzling in the air. They had to time this just right to ensure that Leader's heart would stop temporarily, but not permanently.

They had never thought they would think something like that.

Teammate sent a controlled surge of electricity towards Leader. The jolt hit Leader's chest, and for an agonizing second, everything seemed to stand still. Leader's eyes widened in pain, and their body went limp in Whumper's grasp.

Teammate's heart was in their throat, but they couldn't let fear paralyze them. They forced their powers to work once more, sending another surge into Leader's body. This time, it was to restart the heart that had briefly stopped.

Leader gasped for breath as their heart jolted back to life. Teammate's hands shook as they gasped with the horror of what they had just done.

Whumper, seemingly satisfied with the cruel experiment, stepped back, dropping Leader.

Leader breathed as they rose on their arms, trembling. Teammate rushed over them, helping them to lean back to the wall. Leader patted their shoulder before letting their head fall to Teammate's shoulder.

Their rescue was late but fast. Despite the chaos and the frantic voices of the others, their only focus being Leader. After everything, Leader told over and over again that it wasn't Teammate's fault, but Teammate just couldn't not notice the way Leader's writing got worse. The way Leader hid their hands every once in a while, the way they dressed thick even if it was warm, the way they winced sometimes with no reason.

And when Teammate came for a confrontation, with their heart bleeding to be told it was all their fault and broke into tears as they yelled, Leader held them with the kindness they didn't deserve, striking their hair with a trembling hand and asking for Teammate's forgiveness for forcing Teammate to do such thing with a soft whisper.

#whump #whump writing #electrocution #superpower whump #intimate whumper #tw drugging #leader whumpee #leader whump #well im in mood for fluff now and avoiding studying with writing #...if one could call this fluff

[newbornwhumperfly]

whump aesthetics • bailey / poppet

(a commission by @wolfeyedwitch ~ her tormented villain whumpee from with bloody outstretched hands)

#bailey breaks my heart 🥺🥺🥺 i adore them #this was so long in the making thank you for your patience! #bailey aka poppet #with bloody outstretched hands #wolfeyedwitch #whump aesthetics #whump #whumpee #villain whump #bruised #past torture #past abuse #superhero whump #hero and villain #superpowered whumpee

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

This or That Gothic Edition Snippet 18- Snowstorm

This is also a continuation of gothic snippet 8- bedridden

Inspired by my answers for this post by @blackrosesandwhump!

Whumpee looked out the window at the growing storm that raged outside. Snow fell to the ground in sheets, covering the forest in a thick, white blanket. Wind blew the snowflakes up into swirls, going this way and that, until nothing could be seen outside. Whumpee sighed, it looked like they were stuck inside for another day. They wondered where Caretaker was. Caretaker! Caretaker had gone out to gather supplies hours ago, and they still weren’t back. Whumpee looked out at the storm, there was no way a fire witch could survive in such weather for long. Whumpee clambered out of bed and put on their shoes. Hopefully they would find Caretaker before it was too late.

…

“Caretaker!” Whumpee called, but the wind seemed to swallow up their words.

Whumpee had been searching for quite some time, and they couldn’t so much as find a trail of footprints. Then. Whumpee saw it, a tuft of red fabric sticking out in the snow. Caretaker. Whumpee ran toward the piece of fabric and found Caretaker half-buried in the snow and clutching firewood.

“Hey, hey,” Whumpee said, dropping to their knees, “Caretaker? Can you hear me?”

Caretaker cracked an eye open.

“W-Whumpee?” they asked feebly, “what are you doing? You shouldn’t be out in this weather, you’ll get sick again, and-”

Caretaker was interrupted by a harsh shiver that rippled through their body.

“Come on, I’m getting you home,” Whumpee said, helping Caretaker to their feet, “can you make a flame?”

Caretaker held out their hand. A weak flame ignited, but quickly flickered out.

“Okay, no worries, it’s gonna be fine,” Whumpee said, “let’s get you back home.”

…

Whumpee shivered as they waited for Caretaker to wake up. They had passed out as soon as they got in the doorway, and it was a struggle to get them in their bed. Whumpee had lit a fire, but it did little to stop either of them from shivering. Whumpee’s powers had certainly been overcharged from being out in the cold so long, and now, they were paying the price for it.

“Mm,” Caretaker groaned.

“Hey, you’re awake, how’re you feeling?” Whumpee asked.

“Cold,” Caretaker mumbled, “is this how you feel all the time?”

Whumpee laughed ruefully.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Whumpee said, “you scared me back there, I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“’M not goin’ anywhere, Whumpee,” Caretaker slurred, “you’re still sick after all, and your powers are probably acting up since you went out in the storm.”

Whumpee looked at their fingertips. They were already turning blue. Caretaker shakily reached out with their hands and grabbed Whumpee’s. They let little flames dance across them, which returned Whumpee’s fingers to their normal color.

“Thanks,” Whumpee said, “stay here. I’ll bring you something to warm you up.”

Whumpee turned to leave; they were at the door when Caretaker called their name.

“Thank you,” Caretaker said.

Whumpee nodded.

“Anytime, Caretaker.”

#hypothermia #ice #fire #fire and ice #ice and fire #whump #hurt/comfort #gothic whump #snowstorm #writing #writeblr #creative writing #this or that gothic edition snippet #whump snippet #whump drabble #fire witch #superpowered whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #fantasy #fantasy whump #fantasy snippet #caretaker turned whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whump Prompt 122

Write something inspired by this scene:

Villain sits bolt upright with a wild, strangled gasp.

"What happened to me?"

Hero can't answer; he staggers and drops heavily to his knees, pain etched across his face.

"I brought you...back to life. And now I'm...paying the price."

#whump #whump prompt #whump scene #hero and villain #hero whump #back from the dead #superpowers #superpower whump #heroes and villain #blackrosesprompts #hero whumpee #villain whump #back to life #collapse #pain #gasping #breath whump #whump inspiration #whump idea #whump scenario #whump dialogue #writing inspiration #writing prompt

[sadcatjae]

Slowly getting back into drawing. I'm not an artist by any means and everything is very clunky and awkward but I'm learning a lot! Here's my OC Mercy Mercury who I adapted for @whump-a-la-mode's To Whump a Hero RP server. Mercy Mercury is a lunar manipulator who is able to use moonlight as a shield and weapon. When the sun comes up however, he's fucked weaker than the average human. Fun fact, when his power is activated, everything glows, including his blood~~ :3c

#whump #villain whumpee #villain whump #whump art #superpower whump #sadcatjaedraws

[syncopein3d]

@whumppromptoftheday This is from your prompt!

CW: badly injured whumpee, implied past violence, robbery, begging.

Broken World

1. Rescue

The Ripper stepped out of a violent tear in reality and into a dark hall. The rift in this universe annealed itself almost immediately, the maddening uncolors of the Other Place quickly vanishing. Then Ripper had to bend almost double for a moment, swallowing the taste of blood as they waited for the pain to stop. They didn’t make a noise. They’d learned not to do that a long time ago.

It was hard to get carnite. A lot of it had been mined out, and it was the source of one of only a few ways to permanently alter the function of metapowers without removing them. It was therefore tremendously valuable. The cache supposedly being kept here in Registered Metahuman Team 99B’s base was said to weigh five kilos and be worth about a billion dollars.

Ripper snorted back more blood inside the medical mask. Real costumes were for people who wanted to be on the news. Ripper was wearing gray sweats and a dingy white tank top with a black hoodie. Their mask was just a black N-95. They weren’t even wearing real shoes. They had tabi socks with lightly textured soles, almost noiseless on the institutional tile floor as they walked down the hall. Their gray backpack was the most expensive thing on them, metal-less, high-density ceramic zippers only.

All the lights were out because nobody was here. The Ninety-Nines were at a parade doing security for the mayor or someone. Ripper didn’t know who and didn’t have a reason to care. The important thing was that Silverant and Teledyne weren’t here, no annoyingly perky speedster, no super strong asshole who could break Ripper’s spine with a tiny finger-flick. None of the others were that dangerous to someone quiet and careful, Ripper told itself.

The ventilation hummed constantly, but the heat felt like it wasn’t doing much. The air was cold. The Ripper knew they were four stories below ground; they needed really precise imaging to get into somewhere they’d never been. It hadn’t been cheap, either. Not many people had been down here on the Vault level. The rooms on either side had little windows in their heavy steel doors. Ripper peeked in all of them until it found the one that looked like a biology lab more than a place to keep rocks: microscopes, fridges, centrifuges. A good look from the door was enough.

Ripper stepped back and reached into the world inside itself and tore it open, clawing at their chest. Their hands went from brown to light blue to flat black as they exhaled into a silent scream. Inside became outside, and now they were in the Other Place, grasping in front of them to tear at the membrane of something made of colors that weren’t real and didn’t make sense. They had to get out before they could focus on the idea that they weren’t real here, either, or it might stop existing before it could get through.

The membrane tore, burning and wet under their fingers, and they slid out into the glittering dark of the lab. They stifled a cough. There was no recording equipment this far down, but it felt so loud in the quiet.

They turned on the overhead lights and rifled all the cupboards. Nothing was locked, not a good sign. And while they were reading the labels on all the little shelves above the counter, someone made a noise.

Ripper froze.

It happened again. Someone had made a sort of whimpering moan that ended in a gasp, like maybe they’d breathed too deep and it hurt. It came from behind one of three doors in the back of the lab. These had bigger windows in them, laced with a diamond pattern of metal reinforcement, so it could see that two were empty. All of them were bolted shut.

In the third one, there was a man tied to a steel chair.

Ripper stood there staring, still swallowing blood inside the mask. That was normal. This wasn’t.

He was middle sized, dark haired, not as brown as the Ripper. He’d been in decent shape before someone beat him with… Ripper measured the size of their own fist with the bruises on his naked belly. The knuckle marks were bigger. Was that Teledyne, Ripper wondered, just pulling his punches? The man’s eyes were swollen, and there was a cut above one eye that had matted his eyebrow and blinded him with blood.

The blood looked sticky and half-crusted. Around his nose it was still red, in horrid congealed bits atop the black. It had taken longer to dry up. His eyes couldn’t be seen at all between the swelling and the dim overhead light. His cheeks were deeply hollow. Bands of muscle pulled tight and stringy across his ribs. A blow had left a mark there, black and blue and swollen. Ripper realized that some of the marks were yellow around it, and tried not to gag as they realized why, that someone had waited for the bruises to fade a little and then hit him there again. Cuts around his jaw showed someone had shaved him carelessly, and a deep shadow said it hadn’t been today. His light gray sweats were spotted with blood drips. His feet looked almost black. They had no toenails.

Hairs stood all the way up along Ripper’s spine. It almost cut and ran right then, but a billion was a lot, and maybe this man knew where it was kept. So instead they unbolted both bolts and opened the door. A thin slice of bright light seemed to hit him like a blow; he jerked back, turning his face away as he wheezed. Ripper heard him swear under his breath.

“I won’t hurt you,” Ripper said. “I’m not one of them.” Their voice sounded rough. It usually did. But it didn’t sound like anyone else’s voice. The man looked around, squinting at the bright light.

“For God’s sake, turn that off,” he said. The Ripper went to turn off the lab lights and came back.

“Tell me where the carnite is and I’ll take you with me,” Ripper said.

“Untie me and I’ll show you,” he said. It took him a couple of tries to get that all out.

The Ripper considered that, looking him over from under their hood. He wasn’t too big. Ripper was taller. And he was in bad, bad shape. Maybe he wouldn’t try anything dumb.

“Yeah, all right.” It walked around to look at the back of the chair. The man’s wrists were zip-tied to each other and the middle bar of the tall chair-back. He had pulled hard enough to make them bleed, but not too recently. The blood had dried all the way. The Ripper pulled at them slightly, getting them off his skin a tiny bit.

“Hold still.” The smallest tear between its fingertips, the smallest gate to the Other Place, separated the plastic like it had been cut. They did it again at the ankles, one by one. THAT didn’t hurt enough to matter. There was only a faint looming shadow for warning before the man crumpled forward. Ripper grabbed at his waist as his cheek smacked into Ripper’s shoulder.

“Hey, careful!”

“Stronger than you look,” the man mumbled, groping weakly at Ripper’s upper arms as he knelt there. He stank of old blood and sweat. “Tha’s good, cause you’re gon’ have to help me walk.”

“Yeah, fine. Come on.” Between the two of them, they managed to get him mostly upright, leaning on Ripper with his arm drawn across its shoulder. “Okay, where’s the carnite?”

“Can you really gemme out of here?” he asked.

“Sure. Organic bodies are easy enough. The Other Place doesn’t like metal, though. You have a pacemaker or anything? Fillings?” He didn’t seem to have any jewelry.

“Nah,” the man said. He wheezed every time he breathed.

“Then no problem. Where’s the carnite?”

“There’s’s secret panel,” the man said. “Kick th’ wall by the blood fridge. That one.” He pointed weakly at a chest-high fridge with a clear front and rows and rows of vials. The Ripper hauled him over there and kicked at the wall with a heel in the spot where there was a smudge. Something hissed, and the panel popped forward and to the side in one abrupt movement.

Inside was a niche with a couple of shelves. There was a green gemstone as big as the Ripper’s fist, a pair of vials of red and blue liquid, and a steel case with a couple of wire fasteners like an ammo box.

The Ripper lowered the man to sit on the floor and reached in to get the case.

“It doesn’t feel like five kilos,” the Ripper said.

“More like four and a half. They. They’b. Been powdering it,” the man said, leaning against the blood fridge with his swollen eyes mostly shut. “So they c’n inject me.”

“What’s your meta?” the Ripper asked, popping the case open. Crushed stone lay in a fat cottony lining. It was the color and sheen of gore. When they poked it, it felt like shards of rock all right, but it was disturbingly warm to the touch. Their stomach turned over. This was it.

“I heal fast. Blood makes other people heal fast, too,” he said. “They said, they.” He stopped to breathe as Ripper closed the case. It turned to look at him.

“They said what?” it asked, a little more gently. They didn’t stop the process of shoving the baggy lining full of carnite into their backpack and zipping it up. They put the empty metal case back.

“Said one more treatment and it won’t. Wear off. Please,” he said. His head swayed as he tried to find Ripper’s face in the shade under their hood. “Don’ leave me here. I can help you. You’re sick, right? Y’sound sick.”

Ripper wasn’t sure he was even telling the truth.

He’d told the truth about the carnite, though. Who cared if he could heal or not? They had what they’d come for. And it would probably piss the Ninety-Nines off not knowing where he’d gone AND losing their cache of the most valuable mineral on the planet.

“You know what, fuck the 99B’s,” Ripper said. “I need both my hands, so you have to hold onto me, all right? Hang on tight.” It grabbed the man’s hands and pulled them around its waist as it turned around, kneeling on the floor. They could feel him resting his face against the backpack, each breath still wheezy and labored.

“Are you a man or a woman?” he asked.

“No,” the Ripper said, and tore the world open.

Part 2 here

#whump #whump prompt #villain #hero #agender villain #superheroes #superpowers #syncopein3d future reference #whumpblr #beaten whumpee #injured whumpee #reluctant caretaker #rescue #begging #cometverse