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whump-a-la-mode · 1 year

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I’ve had this in my brain for a while now and may eventually write something on it but your welcome to have a crack.

Whumpee is tied to a chair, their blood slowly being drained as whumper is tasked with getting info from them. Over time whumpee feels the effects, it’s up to you to decide if they give the info or not.

I just love the reverse blood transfusion vibes idk

This is such an interesting prompt, and I really hope that you like what I came up with! I might be willing to continue this as well, if there is enough interest. I leaned a bit away from the pure interrogation theme and made this more into a hero villain piece, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

Also Tumblr updated their text editor and I Do Not Like It.

Given the subject matter that this piece entails, reader discretion is advised. There is very very minimal mention of needles, nor is there any mention of the IV being placed, only some minor description of the IV itself. However, there is a great deal of discussion of blood. Please be aware of this.

CW//Blood, childhood bullying, isolation, natural disasters, superhero-typical violence, medical themes, gaslighting, delirious narrator

Whumpee's blood was special.

They'd always been told that. They'd discovered it when they were young, of course, when cuts and scrapes from running and playing magically stitched themselves back together within moments. They'd only heard the word 'powers' in the second grade, when some particularly reckless soccer-playing had resulted in a broken arm and a trip to the hospital. Of course, by the time they arrived, the limb that mended itself together flawlessly.

They'd never wanted to be a superhero. Not many in their position did. Yet, it did not take long for the ostracization to become too great to bear. The only place for a freak, after all, was among those of their own kind.

So, they'd become a hero. Of course, they were never the one dominating headlines. Nothing about Whumpee's powers was flashy, not like Leader, not like the ones that could shoot fire from their hands or fly.

Admittedly, they'd never really minded. Notoriety brought danger. They'd seen several of their own teammates fall, yet, they always stayed standing. It was easy to stay out of the line of fire when they were always on the ground, evacuating civilians, distracting henchmen, letting the real heroes do their work.

No one cared about the littlest member of the bunch. They barely ever made it into the press photographs, even. Sometimes, they were simply hidden behind another hero, too short to be seen. More often, they were off somewhere else, digging injured civilians from building rubble. After all, there was little risk to them entering a collapsing building. Any injuries would be healed by the time they found their target.

For a superhero, they had quite a peaceful life.

Capture wasn't exactly unheard of for those engaged in superheroics. The more important heroes had training for it; what to do in captivity, how to act, how to get help, how to withstand torture.

Not the youngest, though. Why would Whumpee ever need something like that? They were home every night for dinner.

Why would anyone ever want the youngest. Why would anyone ever want-

"It's extremely potent." Whumper spoke, voice echoing through the small room as they ran a hand over Whumpee's arm. They couldn't help but squirm under the touch; Whumper's hands were terribly cold. "But there's only so much we can do with remnants."

Whumpee allowed their wide-eyed gaze to look upwards, gazing upon their tormentor. The stranger wore a mask over their face, gloves over their hands, and a wicked smile in their eyes. Whumpee did not know them, but they certainly knew Whumpee.

They barely remembered the night before. They'd been walking home after a fight downtown. Of course, they usually rode home with their team, but the hospital had needed help with triage. It'd been a late night, and they were ready to curl up in their bed and go to sleep.

Then, there had been headlights, men from the alley, a needle in their neck-

Whumpee had woken up in the chair. It was a faulty imitation of comfort, a dentist's chair leaned back, providing support for their head, their legs, and holding their arms in place on armrests. Of course, the comfort was only surface level, and was mostly dashed by the straps holding tight every part of their body.

An extra restraint, a straight piece of plastic, held their right arm uncomfortably straight, keeping them from twisting away. Their right arm, of course, was notable in another way-- That was where the IV had been placed, a clear tube run red flowing from their vein into a collection vessel nearby.

They tried not to look. It was terribly hard not to look.

How much had been taken already? The tube was thin, but it was solid in its red color, and the vial was already filling up quite a lot...

The very thought made them queasy. Was the pressure behind their eyes from fear or blood loss?

"Obviously, the best way to collect what we need is, well, from the source." Whumper's smile could be inferred, even behind their mask. "But you're not just here for that."

They disappeared for a moment, leaving Whumpee's extremely limited field of view completely. When they returned, they were sitting at Whumpee's side on a wheeled stool, leaning slightly forwards.

"Do you know what your blood can do, Whumpee?"

Whumpee stared up at the ceiling, leather strap digging into their forehead. They could barely see their assailant in their peripheral vision. A bead of sweat rolled from their forehead to their neck, making them shiver.

"It- It heals me." They tried. That was obvious information, right? Anyone with Google or a TV tuned to the news channel could find out Whumpee's power, it wasn't exactly secret.

"It heals you, yes. Do you think that's all it does?"

"I don't-"

"You've saved more lives than you could ever realize, Whumpee."

"What are you talking about?"

Whumper grinned again. Whumpee was getting a terrible sense of vertigo.

"Samantha Walker, 59, a mother with two children." Whumper began. "A delivery worker. Her visit to the Anderson office building was meant to be short. She never even signed in. When the building fell, no one knew to look for her."

Whumpee tried to think back to the Anderson rescue mission, the names. They'd been going off of employee records, who had clocked in for the day. They'd found them all...

"You had left without her. She had been struck in the jugular by sharp debris. She was dying, until she laid down in a patch of your blood.

It healed her. She managed to find help and escaped unscathed.

Did you know about her?"

"N-No."

"What about Dennis Knelson? You searched the whole Washington complex for him, but he was nowhere to be found. You stayed on the search till midnight, but never found anything.

The floor had collapsed beneath him. He'd fallen into the sewer. When the cleanup crews came, they washed some of your blood down the storm drain.

It gave him the strength to get up and escape."

"My-"

"Shelby Arkansas. A search and rescue worker. You must remember her, don't you? You had to crawl into that cave to save her. A single drop of your blood reinflated her collapsed lung. It was a miracle that you found her uninjured, wasn't it?

She was injured. You saved her.

Do you understand, Whumpee? Do you understand how great your gift is?"

"I didn't know, I-"

Whumper reached forward, placing a frigid hand on their shoulder.

"Shh, it's alright. It's a lot to take in, I know.

There was a research study done recently, by Metropolis University. You know what they found? Out of every hero in your team, you have saved the most lives, by an exponential degree."

"Is that- That why you want my blood?" They'd never known, never tried it on another person... "If you'd let me up, I- I'll donate! As much as I can! I didn't know what it could do- I'm sorry!"

Whumper let out a low chuckle as they brushed Whumpee's sweat-soaked bangs from their face.

"Can you tell me how your team treats you, my dear?"

"My... Team? What about my team?"

"How they treat you. Oh, goodness, are you getting delirious already?"

Whumpee wasn't quite sure of the answer to that one. Their vision was getting blurry, but maybe that had something to do with the glaring spotlight shining down on them, or the terrible headache...

"My team... I love my team..."

"Do you?" Whumper wiped away a tear with their thumb. "Do they love you back?"

"Mhm."

"Is that why they let you walk home alone, in the dark?"

"I was out late-"

"And you weren't even on stage at that benefit."

"I-"

"Do you think they're even looking for you?"

Whumpee knew the answer to that one.

No.

Their team would notice their absence the next time they were needed, and not a moment before. After all, they didn't often train, didn't often hang out with the rest. They were a team member, sure, but...

No, no! Their team cared! Whumpee was just shy, that was all. There was nothing wrong with being shy.

"Of course." Whumpee whispered.

"Is that so? There was quite some hesitation, there. Oh, poor little Whumpee. "You spend quite the time at their base, then, don't you?"

"Mhm. I live there..."

Their tongue felt heavy in their mouth. It was so hard to speak...

The light above was getting dimmer.

"Then you can tell us where it is, can't you?"

"Mm... No, it's... It's secret."

"Secret, yeah? Why's that?"

"Can't tell... Might get attack'd..."

"Well, what does it matter if your team gets attacked? With how terribly they treat you, surely it's exactly what they deserve."

Whumpee weakly yanked on their restraints.

They watched the level of blood in the vial climb higher, higher...

"No. They... They're..."

Whumpee barely noticed as drool began to roll down the side of their cheek. Whumper tapped them a few times in the center of their forehead.

"Come on, Whumpee. You know where it is, just tell us. That's all. Then you can have some water, how does some water sound?"

Water sounded amazing; their mouth was dry and terribly cracked. But- But, no! They couldn't...

"Water... Please..."

"Nuh-uh. Not until you tell us. Now, where were you going? Where were you walking home to? Just tell us, Whumpee."

The vial of blood was nearly filled to its top.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered closed.

"Goodnight. Goodnight sleepytime." They slurred.

Whumper laughed, a low, chortling thing.

"Alright, Whumpee." They brushed their hand through their captive's hair. "We'll talk some more when you're feeling better.

You're going to be a lovely addition to our team."

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whumpee #whumper #blood tw #needle tw #medical tw #whump writing #whump prompt #whump trope #hero whump #hero villain whump #hero whumpee #youngest whumpee #youngest whump

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scaewolf · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 2 - "They don't care about you"

OCs - M.A.L.E.U. - Lilly (youngest member of Unit 5) & Lucia ("Ex" Team Leader of Unit 5B)

----

In the sparely lit garden, the air buzzed with tension, a haze of mistrust and pure hatred surrounding the two figures.

Lucia fixated Lilly with a piercing gaze as she dared to step even closer.

Her fresh face still not touched by any real battle, not even an actual mission that involved a little risk.

It was kinda insulting that Gene thought that this little one could handle anything alone.

Raising her chin, Lucia displayed a mocking grin, as her words were aimed daggers at Lillys comfidence.

"They don't care about you. You don't even belong to the Team", she said, the voice a blended mix of bitterness and arrogance.

Lilly didn't even flinch. Her eyes, that are usually just of the stupid look of a puppy, are for once filled with pure confidence and determination as she stared right back into Lucias soul.

The soft neon lights, emitted from the Crystal Swords on her back, hulled her in a ghostly glow.

"And that's why they trust me to take you down", she answered plainly. "I don't care about you."

This set the stage for a clash between personalities and ideologies.

A dance between two individuals, from different backgrounds and with conflicting perspectives in what it meant to serve justice in this unforgiving city, ruled by terror and defamation.

(I already Managed to do more days than on any Challenge I joined before PFFFF)

Anyway anyway, Lilly is the only one that actual wears futuristic clothes. You Know... In a futuristic Setting.

I really Need to Update the Character Designs of the Others.

#whumptober2023 #no.2 #“They don't care about you”#OC #art #writing #whumper #whumpee #team whump #leader whump #hero whump #youngest whump #confrontation #artist #digital art #writer #whump writing

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whumpanini · 11 months

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Okay so picture this... a line up of heroes, all bound and forced to their knees in front of whumper.

Whumper paces in front of them calmly. They have their hands clasped behind their back as they begin to threaten or make demands of Leader. Then they slowly stop in front of our whumpee. Maybe they look the youngest, most inexperienced, or the most scared but something about them catches whumper's eye.

Leader's eyes go wide as they try to redirect whumper's attention back to them, but it's too late. Whumper places a hand under Youngest's jaw and lifts their gaze to force eye contact. They see the barely hidden fear behind a shaky mask of indifference and they *smile.*

#I'm a sucker for classic blatant displays of power like being forced to their knees #mmmm delicious #something about a whumper that's put together or hold themselves almost regal also gets me #calm displays of power and danger because they don't have a need for dramatics #whump #whump scenario #whump scenes #whumpblr #whump concept #whump community #hero whumpee #whumpee #whumper #whumpee/whumper #leader/youngest

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bleedingintogold · 1 year

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A leader who is cold and aloof.

He doesn't join the team when they attempt to bond, sticking to only training them and giving orders. He won't even eat with them at the same table, let alone initiate conversation outside what is necessary. The team don't push, out of respect and borderline fear for him. They believe that he’d sacrfice any of them without a second thought if he had to. They trust him to lead them, but they don’t trust that he’d keep them safe.

The leader is scary. He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't even look angry when he's reprimanding any of them. His voice is a monotone to a point where they wouldn't be surprised if he was actually a humanoid android. Until one day, the youngest screws up badly, almost costing the entire team their lives. Fortunately, the leader manages to save them, getting them all back to safety.

When he is sure that they are secure, he explodes at the youngest. His fingers bunch into fists, drawing blood from his own palms as his fingernails scrape at the skin. They wonder if he was about to punch the youngest across the face. The Leader's words are harsh but true, making his junior look at the ground shamefully. One of the other teammates decides that everyone has had enough for today, physically pulling Leader away.

The teammate feels something wet drop onto his hand. That's when they realize none of them had actually been looking at Leader's face. His face didn't read anger, as much as it read fear. His eyes were wet with tears that had yet to fall.

Leader realizes that he's crying, quickly pulling away from his team to retreat to his room after telling the second in command to make sure everyone is patched up.

In his room, he can't help but glance at the frame on his bedside. A younger version of himself stands in the centre of a group of five, all of them with their arms around each other, proud of the new stripe the youngest wears on his shoulder. The same youngest that got them all killed.

The youngest member who was now a leader himself, so close to losing his team again.

Leader hadn't been angry at the youngest, who had tried their best. He had looked down at them, and seen himself. Naive, immature and guilty of killing the people who had loved him.

He cares about his team. Of course he does. But he doesn’t think he’d be strong enough if he were to lose people he loved again.

#leader whump #Leader whumpee #team dynamics #whump community #whump tropes #whumpblr #tw death mention #youngest to leader

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whumpsoda · 26 days

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May I suggest a whumper who puts spells on his whumpee’s or hypnotizes them or smth to believe that they’re all a happy traditional family. Whumpee’s all think this is completely normal—even the family dog which used to be whumper’s most resistant captive.

Sorry this took so long… I just had to do this prompt, it’s too good! I hope I did it justice :3

cw: brainwashing, pet whump, multiple whumpees, lady whumpee, captivity

———————————————————————

Villain loved his family.

Some would never believe him, most prominent due to the means of which he sourced said family, but really, he did love them. Cared for them, even.

“Movie! Movie! Movie!” Youngest squealed, just like the child he believed himself to be, swinging his feet excitedly on the couch. Adorned in his favorite pajamas, bright pink and far too small, he waited for the rest of his family to join him in the living room. One hand was wrapped around a gigantic bowl of delicious smelling and steaming popcorn, the other ruffling through the grease coated hair of his pet.

Hero, with his chin placed atop his former partner’s lap, held a dopey smile and glassy eyes as his scalp was softly scritched at. He shivered with delight, nearly drooling over the blissful touch and smell of food he wasn’t allowed to eat. Villain couldn’t help but wish he had a camera ready to capture such a mind bogglingly satisfying image.

“Watch out!” Medic- or, the former medic, now Villain’s partner- exclaimed, a sweet grin strung across her lips. “Puppy over there is waiting for you to drop something!”

Youngest only chuckled, cheerfully ruffling Hero’s hair. Gleefully, Hero giggled, leaning into the pleasant touch. “Come on, come on! I wanna start the TV!”

“Okay, okay!” Villain yelled back, smiling from ear to ear, watching as Youngest and Hero’s faces both lit up upon seeing their former enemy enter the room. Hero eagerly crawled over to meet him, nuzzling and stroking his face over the fabric of the other man’s pant leg.

Almost, Villain wanted to laugh. His plans and wishes had come perfectly true. His toughest foe and captive, reduced to that of a mere dog. Yearning only for cuddles and treats, too stupid to understand the world around him. No more fight, no more irritating quips, no more screaming, no more Hero.

The thought made Villain positively giddy.

Villain searched into his back pocket, holding out and dangling a bone shaped dog treat between two fingers. Hero brightened, sitting up sloppily. “Paw.” Villain instructed, shaking Hero by the hand and dropping the reward between the man’s teeth, right onto his panting tongue. “Good boy!”

“Dad, come on! Come on! Mom!” Youngest called, kicking his feet still, but now in impatient anticipation.

“I told you, I’m coming!” Medic entered, hair put up into a lazy bun with a plush robe tied around her waist. “I was just grabbing a drink, baby.” She placed a quick peck to the lanky man’s forehead, before adjusting the vibrantly pink clips scattered about his hair.

Youngest’s face flushed, giggling. “Dad, c’mere!”

“Come on, puppy.” Gifting Hero a few pats to the head, Villain gestured him along to the couch before plopping down beside his partner. He hooked his arm around Medic, pushing her head to sit upon his shoulder.

Sometimes, he secretly wished she’d give him little kisses just as she did Youngest. He’d never felt such tender contact before, and most likely never would.

Following example, Hero hopped onto a cushion beside youngest, getting prepared to curl up beside the man in his eyes he deemed as a young child before Medic pointed to him with disapproval. “No.” She scolded. “No dogs on the furniture.”

With a frown he climbed back down on all fours, disappointedly furling into a ball at their feet. Villain watched in satisfaction, bending down a moment later to pat the whining man’s head.

All the while Youngest fiddled with the remote, just until he managed to get the television turned on. A moment later the screen switched to life, instantly the sounds of a newscast filling the group’s ears.

No.

“Hey,” Villain started, reaching around to take the remote for himself.

He couldn’t let them see anything they weren’t supposed to. Anything that could pull them from their brainwashing, even by the slightest bit. Youngest wrenched it away, barely taking notice, instead captivated by something dancing upon the screen.

The criminal’s heart skipped a beat. That something, just so happened to be himself.

Videos, pictures, recordings, even, of the three’s heroics blared across the screen, regular civilians that worshipped the group pleading for the team back. Other heros as well, begging for their friends and comrades to be found.

Villain clamored for the remote desperately, chest beating with a spark of adrenaline. All three of the other family members were fixed on the TV, brows furrowed as their minds twisted blank, refusing and yet fighting to digest what they were watching.

“Youngest! Give me the remote!” Villain shouted, the other man still refusing to give it up with an iron grip.

Oh, no, no, no, no-

“That’s…” Youngest mumbled, brain gradually working to achieve comprehension.

Medic’s expression was twisted in befuddlement alongside him, frozen rigid in place. “I don’t… understand…”

Please, no-

“Nngh…!” Hero whimpered, shrinking back with fearful puzzlement.

Villain couldn’t fail. Not then, and not ever. He couldn’t let them break free from their conditioning, couldn't allow them to remember, and most of all couldn’t afford to lose them. He’d never had such a loving, happy family, let alone a group of people he cherished so shockingly dearly, and he wouldn’t let his hard work go to waste so easily.

Finally, some button was switched that successfully flicked the screen, turning it to whatever else was showing at the moment. Still shaking, Villain sighed in relief as the other three blinked out from their trance, minds easing and carefully returning with his control still strict in place.

Medic sputtered in confusion. “What… um, sorry…” she mumbled, turning to her partner for an answer. He couldn’t let her know. He couldn’t let her realize, or she would hate him again-

“Momma, my head hurts.” Youngest whined, gripping the sides of his head and dropping into her lap. He scrunched the muscles of his face in an attempt to clear his head.

Still in that of a hazy daze, Medic’s vision still unfocused glazed over, she stumbled over her words. “Mine, um, mine.. too…”

Hero rubbed against her leg in dreaded distress, croaking whimpers scratching from his throat. He clawed the walls of his mind, shoving himself back down in favor of the brainwashing.

“Everything’s alright! Let’s just watch the movie, okay?” Villain brushed them off, trembling, quickly setting up the program correctly this time as the rest of his companions were plagued by bitter affliction. Anything to distract them.

Everything was alright. Everything was fine. He’d caught it just in time, and they weren’t going to remember. They weren’t going to leave him, because he wouldn’t let them.

Not like everybody else. This was different. Villain loved his family, and they loved him.

Didn’t they?

———————————————————————

General taglist- @softvampirewhump

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lili-loves-whump · 9 months

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the prompt of writing

"the coldest character is assigned to kill the secret love interest"

the more derp-ressing the better

angst. No, I shouldn’t. Angst.

lili-loves-whump presents:

Cold Blooded Killers

Hero was unsure what to do. They sighed, and ran a hand through their hair quickly. No-one should have to deal with this, they thought, no-one.

"What are you going to do, little Hero?" Supervillain taunted, flicking their hair out of their eyes. They glimmered in the harsh white lights of the room. Hero shuddered at the dead evil underneath their surface.

"Hero!" Sidekick cried. The chains clinked, and they hissed out a breath as they thrusted their body weight forward. Supervillain smirked; the restraints didn't budge. "Get out of here!"

"Shut up, Sidekick," Comic Relief snapped, "They aren't going to leave us- they're literally our FUCKING LEADER!"

Hero flinched as Comic Relief screamed, thrashing under their bounds. They opened their mouth to say something- anything- but no sound came out. Hero's throat ached as if they'd just recited a novel, and their head whipped back and forth, scrambling to decide what to do.

Their heart was pumping, blood racing. Their Villain was tied to a chair, slumped over at an unnatural angle, barely breathing. Their team was thrashing, cursing, crying, anything to appeal to the criminal overlord and get out of the wretched lair. It was too loud, and horrendous, and bright, and Hero raked their fingernails up and down the arms of their supersuit, trying to drown out the noise so they could just think-

"Hero."

Youngest was limp in their chains, lips chapped and crisp from the cool air. They licked their own anxiously. They had a flimsy smile pasted on their face, and sweat dripping down their chin and onto the concrete floor.

"It's okay."

Hero pursed their lips, shaking their head slowly. "I can't leave you," they croaked.

Youngest's eye blew wide, and a shocked silence settled over the room. Hero swallowed. That hurt. How do people speak all the time?

"Hero spoke," Medic muttered, "after years of being selectively mute, they finally said something. Incredible."

Hero flushed, wiggling their fingers by their sides, trying to calm the flurry of embarrasement. They smiled slowly, focused in on Medic's nose and shrugged as effortlessly as they could.

"Touching," Supervillain drawled, before grabbing their hair. Hero nearly cried out, instead choosing to bit the inside of their cheeks. "Make. Your. Decision." they muttered, hot breath against Hero's ear, "who are you killing in cold blood?"

They closed their eyes. Villain would forgive them, their team would not. They had a life outside of work with Villain. Their team were barely friendly half the time, not even understanding how difficult dealing with their autism was. Only Medic actually knew what it was in depth the first time they mentioned it. Until Youngest, and their little sister Casey.

So, with shaking fingers, Hero pointed at Youngest. Superhero hummed fake agreement, before letting go of their hair and starting towards Villain.

Hero didn't know what they were doing, only that suddenly they were clutching a limp body and had white hot pain slamming into their gut.

#autistic hero #villain #hero x villain #creative writing #whump #trope #hero #whump prompt #drabble #lili loves whump #supervillain #youngest #autism #villain whumpee #supervillain whumper

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egg-writes-whump · 3 months

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Whumpee was sat in the back of the car, staring blankly out the window. Youngest got into the back as well, and they watched as Teammate walked around and got into the passenger seat.

Leader and Teammate spoke to each other quietly, and then Leader started the car. The two continued to talk for the majority of the journey, but Youngest couldn’t really hear what they were saying.

They turned back to Whumpee. There was blood in their hair and on the shoulder of their jacket. Youngest couldn’t see it very well, but there was also a lot of blood on the right side of their face. They leaned across the middle seat and took Whumpee's hand.

They turned to look at them. There was something off about their eyes. They looked unfocused. Their pupils were the wrong size, as well. “…are you ok?” Whumpee didn’t answer at first, as if testing the question out and then trying to think of an answer. Eventually they shrugged. “I will be.”

#sorry for being dead guys #egg writes whump #whump #whump prompt #whump prompts #whumpee #the context is something along the lines of youngest and whumpee being rescued from a mission gone wrong #but interpret how you like #i've been rotating the dialogue around in my head so much #concussion whump #well it's implied anyways #whump dialogue

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siren-of-agony · 4 months

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The Hohlbein to whump pipeline 😂

It's so real tbh The only reason it would surprise me if good old Wolfie has a whump blog himself is bc he just publishes that shit and makes money with it

#granted it was more an imagening weird scenarios to fall asleep to Holbein to whump pipeline #but yeah even the books for his youngest audience are so whumpy #except maybe the Barbie books he wrote idk i never read those #i had like 2 years where i only read holbein and the only reason i stopped is bc if you only read his stuff back to back to back it becomes #kinda obvious that his books are pretty repetitive in structurs language and kinds of characters #it def hightened my interest in whumpy media tho #wish i could recommend his books his books to everyone else here but i don't think a lot oh his books have been translated

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whumpy-angsty · 2 months

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villain whumper takes the hero team and force the yougest hero to hurt a civilian.

whumper holds the youngest arm, “ there we go, hold it right youngest”

Youngest is shaking breathing quickly, “i..i cant.”

“Oh you can, dont worry as long you do this right none of your team is going to get hurt. all you have to do it is stab this poor poor civilian. then you and your team can go out, see ? its easy.” Whumper roughly tighten his hold on the youngest hands holding the knife and gesture it toward the squirming civilian who is screaming through his gag looking at them terrfied.

the leader is screaming in the background, the other members are screaming as well trying to free themselves from their chains.

“shhh, let the youngest concenrate. we dont want him killing someone by mistake now, do we?”

“ you will regreat this villain!” the leader screams, “ youngest please,dont do this! we will be f-”

“ they will be fine if you stab him, thats all what i am asking youngest.”

yongest ears ringing, the civilian is screaming through his gag begging something as tears spill from his eyes, almost begging the youngest to not do this.

“ come on youngest, time is ticking and i have no patience.” he leans closely whipering to youngest ears.

#team hero #youngest whump #civilian whump #whumpuary2024 #whump writing #whump scenario #whump prompt

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whumperofworlds · 2 months

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Whumper kidnaps Whumpee and creates an exact clone of them to send to the team to fool them and to figure out where their headquarters is.

The clone acts and looks exactly like Whumpee, except that they don't have their quirks. No one noticed this... except for Youngest.

Whumpee usually gives them a secret handshake to Youngest, but this clone didn't do it when Youngest asked them to do it. Youngest chalked it up as them being stressed... until it was nighttime.

Usually Whumpee kisses them a goodnight forehead kiss, but they didn't. Or that they look through some of their favorite books to read tonight but Whumpee chose one that neither of them liked. Maybe Whumpee didn't even say goodnight to Youngest.

That tipped off Youngest that this is NOT Whumpee, and Youngest secretly tells the team that Whumpee was acting strange, and that they suspect that it wasn't them, but no one believed them.

Meanwhile, Whumper forces the real Whumpee to watch as their clone acts around the team, and Whumpee's heart sank. Would their team figure out that the clone was a fake in time?

#brought to you by satam #whump #whump prompt #kidnapping #team whump #clone whumpee #youngest #forced to watch

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

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So what’s the story with Weapon’s antenna and earpiece?

Weapons Don't Weep, Part 8

*grins at you like the Cheshire cat* Ask and ye shall receive! Eventually.

CW for implied non-con body modification.

Masterlist

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“Please tell me that’s not what it looks like,” Chloe said, looking at the x-rays they’d just taken of Weapon.

The images were some of the most disturbing that Chloe had ever seen. It wasn’t the content itself that was chilling; no, it was what the images implied that had the three rebels concerned.

One image was a chest x-ray. It showed the expected bright spot of wrongness under the ribs, just where Weapon had said their tracker was located. That was bad enough, equipping a person with a tracker like they’re nothing more than a piece of equipment. But that wasn’t the end of it. There was another anomaly, bright white and unmistakable, along the line of their spine.

The other image was an x-ray of their head and neck. It too showed something that didn’t belong. One of Weapon’s teeth was the wrong color on the x-ray, too uniformly white to be enamel and dentin. There were thin bright lines trailing from it to the Weapon’s throat, ending in small circles.

“Well,” Nigel said, drawing the word out as he stared at the x-rays. “That depends. Does it look like a gross human rights violation to you?”

Chloe swore, quiet and emphatic.

“So these are, what, some kind of implants?” Zeke asked.

Nigel nodded. “We’ve got the tracker, obviously. The one in their mandible might be some kind of communication device, given that these—” he pointed to the lines emanating from the not-tooth— “extend to their larynx. I’m not sure about the one by their spine, though.”

Chloe thought back to her engineering courses, about all she’d learned of signals and how they traveled. “What if…” she started.

Nigel and Zeke both looked at her. She worried at her lip as she thought of the words she needed.

“So that’s a tracker,” she said, pointing to it. “And it would send out a signal. But if a signal is going to get anywhere, it needs an antenna. Maybe…” She trailed off, hating the thought of a living, breathing, feeling person being treated anything like her engineering projects.

Both men understood what she was implying, looking grim.

“So we got the images,” Zeke said. “Now what? Can you take the tracker out?”

Nigel shook his head. “Not without better scans. These images don’t have nearly enough detail to plan a surgery.”

“What about the other ones?” Chloe asked. “Do they need to be taken out, too? Can they be taken out?”

“The Weapon won’t consent to that,” Zeke said.

Chloe nodded, embarrassed. She’d been so caught up in the idea of getting the horrible things out that she’d forgotten about Weapon, and how terrifying this must be to them. She looked through the window to the exam room where they sat. They stared at the floor, back ramrod-straight and body statue-still. Only the slight movement of their breathing let her know they were still alive.

“The tooth would be easy enough to remove, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” Nigel said. “They’d have to be in range of Government’s communications for it to even work. And the antenna… I honestly don’t think I could remove it. It’s too close to their spinal cord, and it looks like parts of it have osseo-integrated. Fused to the bone,” he explained at the blank looks his medical jargon got.

“Okay,” Chloe said. “And if it’s just the antenna, it shouldn’t be an issue to leave it in place.”

Zeke nodded thoughtfully. “So really it’s just the tracker we have to focus on. Doc, you said you need more imaging?”

“Ideally I’d get at least a CT scan,” Nigel agreed. “Can the generator take the load of that?”

“What kind of load are we talking?” Chloe asked.

Nigel gave her the numbers.

“Oh yeah, Gennie can handle that no problem,” Chloe said.

Zeke gave her a smile and nod at that, and she stood a little straighter at his approval. While some members brought their military experience as an asset to the team, Chloe brought something else: engineering expertise. Not many mechanical engineers only a few years out of college could say that their generator designs were powering an entire rebel base.

They got the CT scan. Weapon was still as unnervingly polite and compliant as ever as Nigel directed them to lie down and remain still. Afterwards, Chloe sat with them as the images loaded.

An hour or so of uncomfortable silence later, Zeke came to the door. “Chloe, with me.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” she said. If his tone hadn’t already let her know the seriousness of the situation, his lack of response to her nickname would have.

Nigel was staring at the computer screen, brows furrowed. Behind him, Tyler sat eating an apple as noisily as possible. Riley leaned against the wall, gaze trained on Weapon through the window.

Aren’t I Miss Tardy-to-the-Party, Chloe thought. If the whole team was here, this had to be serious.

“So we have a minor problem,” Nigel said. He adjusted the image on screen to show the tracker: a small disc of metal tucked underneath Weapon’s ribcage. The 3D rendering didn’t look any less disturbing than the x-ray had.

“I can’t take that out without killing them,” he went on.

“Okay,” Riley said. “So we do what we originally planned: destroy Government’s biggest threat.”

Chloe turned to stare at them, mouth agape in dismay. “What? No! They’re not a machine to be destroyed; they’re a goddamn human being who needs our help!”

Riley just shrugged. “We can’t have them here with the tracker; we can’t take the tracker out without killing them. Do you have a better solution?”

Chloe turned back to Nigel. “Why can’t you take it out?” she asked.

He gestured to the screen with a pen, sketching out reasons in such dense medical jargon that Chloe got lost about three words in.

“For those of us who flunked high school anatomy, Doc?” Tyler drawled.

Nigel sighed and started over. “The device is nestled in the pleural— it’s between their lung and the inside of their ribcage,” he said. “And it’s underneath their diaphragm. Getting it out would be delicate work, and run a high risk of causing respiratory distress. And that’s even before you factor in the fact that they’d need to be under general anesthesia for this, which I can’t do.”

“But- but Government got it in there just fine!” Chloe protested.

Nigel fixed her with a flat stare. “Government has the resources to have a team of specialists on hand for procedures like that. They’d have cardiologists, pulmonologists, and anesthesiologists on top of general surgeons and a trained staff of nurses. We, on the other hand, have me: a single doctor trained as a generalist, not a specialist.”

Chloe shrunk under his gaze. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “But we can’t have gotten this far just to quit!”

Tyler took a loud bite of his apple and spoke with his mouth full. “If you can’t take it out, why not just leave it in?”

That comment made the other four stare at him incredulously.

“Because we don’t want even the possibility of Government finding this base,” Zeke said slowly.

Tyler shook his head. “Not what I meant. I meant, why don’t we just disable the thing instead of taking it out?”

“Can you do that?” Chloe asked eagerly.

He nodded. “Sure; I’ve got an EMP around here somewhere. If you grab a couple of your scanners, we can make sure the thing is nothing more than useless scraps.”

“Would that be safe for the Weapon?” Zeke asked.

Nigel nodded slowly. “It’s encapsulated; as long as the EMP wouldn’t damage the hardware…”

“Nope, just fry the electronics,” Tyler said.

“Then it would be fine,” Nigel said.

“And if we’re going to be scanning anyway, I can see about any signals coming off the other implants,” Chloe said, already warming to the idea.

Zeke nodded his approval. “Then do it.”

---

Taglist:

@appleejuice, @kim-poce, @badluck990, @cupcakes-and-pain, @lonesome--hunter, @wits-and-wrongs, @neuro-whump, @winedark-whump @aswallowimprisoned, @rose-pinkie, @whumpy-writings, @whump-cravings, @secretwhumplair. @hobiisthesunfiteme, @whumpcreations, @myhusbandsasemni, @heart4brains @kixngiggles @neverthelass

#weapons don't weep #living weapon #the weapon #zeke the leader #dr. nigel trello #chloe the youngest #tyler the bomber #riley the sniper #implied non con body modifications #non con body modifications #dubiously accurate medical stuff #do not take medical advice from whump writing #x rays #ct scan

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jasmines-library · 1 month

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Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped.

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.

“Who?”

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched.

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black.

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

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BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

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