whumpisfun

[whumpisfun]

Till Betrayal Do Us Part #3 - Spy Time

first previous masterlist

Whumptober day 3 - a hair’s breadth from death | gun to temple | “say goodbye.” | impaled

note: Eric goes by he/him and Rylan goes by he/they

content: spy whump, violence, death threat, restraints

send an ask if i missed anything!

———

Eric noted the drain in the corner; the bare walls and cement floor; the way the room was well-lit. He noted how the door on the other side of the room was the only way out, no gap at the bottom to let in any light or sound. No gap to let out any screams. Soundproof.

His arms and legs were bound to the wooden chair he was sitting on. This wasn’t his first kidnapping, he was more bored than anything. It had to have been hours since he was brought here. The thirst was the most uncomfortable thing, but it still didn’t bother him that much. He’d been cocky, he guessed, to spy on the trainers from this very facility at the party without any kind of backup. But hey, they did him quite the favour. Once he got out, he’d have valuable intel of the layout of this building, as well as faces and names.

Really, this was a win.

Eric tilted his head up, looking at the lights. They were orange. Oh, it was really going to be disorienting when they stepped outside again. One inconvenience out of many. He looked up and up and back and back, stretching his head back as far as it could go and...

Thud.

Eric grunted when the chair met the floor. Ah, that’ll tell him not to be stupid as usual. Oh well, no regrets. He glimpsed the back wall from the ground, eyeing the restraints attached to it. Wow, lucky him! He’ll probably get a first-hand account!

The door slammed open.

“Ah, so you’re an even more of an idiot than I gave you credit for.”

The footsteps stopped beside him. Eric grinned up at the face looming above him. He caught a hint of anger there, masked by their efforts of looking unamused. “See, I understand why you think I’m one now, but what gave it away before?”

“Spying on us, planting a bug, and then getting caught.” The man—trainer—stepped out of his field of view, walking around the room. “That, is idiocy.”

“Who says this wasn’t part of the plan?”

“Because I hope we got bugged by someone who is at least smart enough to know how awful of a plan that is.” Their face came back into view. And so did their boot as it came hurtling at Eric’s face. Eric cursed when the boot connected with his nose, blood dripping from it over his face and onto the floor below. Well, that’s what the drain is for, he thought, and almost laughed.

“Is that...all you’ve got?”

The man smiled. “No, but I really wanted to do that.” He raised Eric’s chair so it was back to a sitting position. “And while I’d love to show you more, you really have to die now.” He took out a revolver, aiming it in between Eric’s eyes. The gun clicked.

“Any last words?”

Eric looked at the gun, looked at the man holding it, and grinned. He wouldn’t do it, he knew. He was far too valuable a source of information. “What’s your name?” Might as well get a little bit more insight of his apparent captor.

The trainer grinned back, a feral kind of look in his eyes. As if he enjoyed the challenge. “Rylan. Rylan Emery.”

“Pretty name.”

Rylan smirked, before rearing their hand back instead. “Pretty face.”

The butt of the gun collided with Eric’s temple, and all he knew was darkness.

———

Hey, it’s the other guy from before!

(i couldn’t resist a spy whumpee i’m sorry)

ask to be added to the taglist!

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@spookyboywhump

[whumpisfun]

can we please talk about enemy turned caretaker?

[whumpisfun]

As a prompt, I'm very partial to the enemy caretaker whump trope. So maybe something to do with that, could be like an army battlefield setting, or worse, a spy setting. Hell, maybe even a crack whump where it turns out its just a bunch of kids playing pretend on the playground. (damn i might use that actually too lol, but feel free if you want to take it).

Just anything where the whumpee was captured and needs medical attention and they're straight up confused why they're not being tortured or dead yet lol, and their fate is just so uncertain.

tw hospital setting, enemy caretaker

No one was hiding their hostility. Not like Whumpee had expected that, not at all. But they also didn't expect to be put on bed rest, given medicine, and get patched up. The contrast between the atmosphere and the care was stark and jarring. They couldn't help being on edge every moment of the day, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It actually made them feel absolutely disgusting to know that they had made the lives of people like them a living hell. People who were willing to put their feelings aside to care for someone injured.

"Medic?" they tried quietly, while Medic was changing their bandages. The use of their name made the other freeze up for a moment, then they pulled the gauze a little tighter, brows furrowing in barely repressed disdain.

"We're not on a first name basis," they said firmly. Whumpee quickly nodded, not wanting to upset the person who had saved their life.

"I'm sorry. D-doctor, then?" Oh, they hated how their voice shook. How they stammered like a nervous child. But they felt like it. They felt so small, so vulnerable, and they felt like everyone around them held power over their life to the point that they could be crushed at any second.

Medic nodded silently, seemingly placated by the show of respect and compliance. They weren't pulling on the bandages as hard now.

"I... I just wanted to... I wanted to thank you for– for all of this. I know I wouldn't be alive without... without your care."

"Leader's orders," they said curtly.

"I'm grateful to them too. And– and I'm also incredibly sorry."

Medic glanced up at them, a look of frustration crossing their face. They didn't say anything. Whumpee didn't say anything either. They wanted to ask what would happen to them once they were healthy, or why they were even bothering with all this... But they didn't. Whatever the team decided their fate would be, they would go along with it. They never wanted to cause any trouble for them again.

"You know, I don't think you understand the extent of the damage you have caused," Medic spoke up again. "I don't think you understand what horrible consequences your actions have had on real people."

They were right. Up until now, Whumpee had never even considered it. Never even saw them as actual people with lives of their own.

Medic let out a heavy sigh, their expression softening a little. "But I think you do now. And I think... I think if that realisation really makes you change... then I think you deserve to have a second chance. And from what I've seen since you've been here with us, and mostly with me, I think that might actually be the case."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

#tagging later

[whumpisfun]

today’s sexy trope: a villain-whumper-turned-whumpee, who used to be all powerful and violent and intimidating until they are declawed and defeated, crawling away for some spot they can hide after losing the battle to the heroes, bleeding and is severely wounded.

obviously, they’re soon cornered by the heroes — their enemies — who they know will kill them for good. they will not beg, never, but their eyes betray them when fear is all that’s displayed there as they look up, from where they lie bleeding on the ground, at the heroes circling them. they will not beg. but they are scared, and they are physically trembling.

one of the heroes raises their weapon. villain-whumper-turned-whumpee closes their eyes, waiting for the death blow to put them out of their misery. only that the impact never comes.

after a while, villain-whumper-turned-whumpee carefully reopens their eyes to see one of the heroes, who previously raised the weapon, kneel down in front of them. the hero isn’t aiming the weapon at them anymore. instead the hero is offering them their hand.

“come with us,” hero says. “it doesn’t have to end like this.”

villain-whumper-turned-whumpee does not want to surrender themself to the heroes, obviously, but it’s either surrendering or dying. they know they have no choice.

after a while, villain-whumper-turned-whumpee slowly and weakly reaches out and takes the hero’s hand.

[whumpisfun]

Who is giving me all these ghost notifications lol

#Not whump

[whumpisfun]

My piece for the ABCs of Whump zine @thewhumpyprintingpress My letter was T for Torture ! If you want to acquire this very whumpy zine, there are physical and digital copies still available. Make sure to visit The Whumpy Printing Press Tumblr for more informations

#tagging later

[whumpisfun]

Tied up whumpee.

Forced into place and made to wait.

Helpless.

No amount of begging will save them from the whims of a cruel whumper. No amount of pleading or good behavior will alter what is to come.

They have to sit there and tremble and panic and wait.

And whatever the whumper wants to happen...will happen.

#tagging later

[whumpisfun]

Used as bait.

Used as bait, but not pulled out of the way just in time, not a decoy or distraction but true bait, like a worm on a hook.

Mauled by the thing they're hunting, torn and bitten and dragged until they finally subdue it.

Alive but barely.

Then discarded

#tagging later

[whumpisfun]

kidnapping via the trunk is well n good, but I love the peril of the character being seen within the car :^D This was gonna be part of the 31 Days of Kink, but I never got around to it! 

I guess Lance can be caught by mafia or s/t idk _(:,D I just wanted to draw “kidnapping” + “car bondage” w/ a sprinkle of “struggle”

#tagging later

[whumpisfun]

Whumpee woke with a sobbing shout. They quivered and panted, memories hit them as if they were still on the floor at whumper's feet. They felt arms wrap around them and beeping heard overhead; the sound worsened the pounding already in their head. 

"Hey hey hey! It's okay. You got a lot of injuries, you've got to take it slow." Caretaker touched whumpees forehead and put them back against the pillow. They tightly gripped whumpee's hand and the other rested on their chest.

"Wh-where am I? How did I get here?" Whumpee panicked. 

"You're in a hospital. I'm here with you, everything's okay. You're going to be fine..." Caretaker sadly smiled. Whumpee stared up at them with wide eyes, breathing like a wounded animal, gripping the back of caretakers hand with every ounce of strength, which was hardly holding them at all.

Despite caretaker's calm demeanor, whumpee could feel caretaker's hand shaking as much as their own.

"You-" Whumpee breathed, trying to raise their hand to them, but they couldn't.

"Yeah, it's me," Caretaker smiled, collecting their collapsed hand in their own. "I'm here, I'm taking good care of you. You can keep resting, okay?"

Whumpee shook their head no, their body still in fight or flight mode, wanting nothing more but to jump up and assess their surroundings. Caretaker could see their legs twitching and slowly inching off the bed as they sighed and scooted on the bed with them, pushing their legs back to the center.

"No hon, it's too early to be doing that." Caretaker soothed, laying whumpee's head on their shoulder.

It was almost as if as soon as whumeee's cheek settled, they relaxed and their heart rate slowly returned to normal beat by beat. Caretaker looked up at their monitor and sighed with relief watching the numbers stabilize. 

#tag later

[whumpisfun]

if you want something whumpy, check out alien stage! it's a series of music videos that tell the story of a group of humans in a dystopian future where humans are kept as pets by aliens and prized for their singing. these specific humans are forced to compete in a singing competition where the losers are executed.

the linked playlist has all the alien stage videos, though you can skip the short "teaser" videos in there as they're only snippets of following videos. it's only 9 music videos, so it's a fairly quick watch, the whole thing's like 30 minutes long altogether.

cw: pet whump, past child abuse, major character death

(and yes there's no round 4, it's intentional, playlist isn't missing anything)

#Yeah the series is pretty cool!! go watch

[whumpisfun]

Febuwhump day 19: “You deserve this,”

“You deserve this,” Growled by Hero as they slam a boot into the groveling villain’s back. Villain grits their teeth and takes it, knowing it’s the price they must pay for redemption.

“You deserve this,” Sidekick hisses, ex-Villain pinned to the training mat underneath them. When they let go, ex-Villain stumbles to their feet, spits the mouthful of blood out, and returns to their sparing position. 

“You deserve this,” ex-Villain sighs into the quiet of their room as they stare in the mirror, counting the new bruises. They reach for their concealer and get to work. 

“Let me help you,” Medic whispers as they gently unravel ex-Villain’s sloppy bandages, revealing the weeping gashes underneath. They wince at the sight, turning wide and worried eyes to stare into ex-Villain’s face. “You don’t deserve this.”

#villain whumpee

[whumpisfun]

31st Story

Part 2

TW: Captivity, implied past torture, blood mention, restraints, mistrust, starvation mention, defiant whumpee, corrupt system, knife

Heyyy! Long-time no see. I blame college 100% because it takes up all my time, seriously. Happy New Year tho 💙

Villain could tell himself he was already used to the cold, hard embrace of the dull rock of his cell, to the claustrophobia-inducing lack of windows, to the fact that the only times he ever got to see the light was when someone walked in to beat him senseless, a feat made incredibly easy with the help of the chains that shackled his wrists and ankles, not allowing for much movement.

He could pretend that being covered in blood and filth, dazed and starving, was nothing to him, that the maddening urge to find out what time it was wasn't gnawing at him torturously.

"In here, wishful thinking is all you are capable of," a sunken-faced, old prisoner had told him before he was thrown into his personal hellhole. He hadn't said anything, but he'd believed the old hag to be weak and hopeless, and thus so was her sentiment.

Right now, all he wondered was if he'd break even faster than that woman might have. The villain screwed his eyes shut, hoping it would stop the chain of thoughts poisoning his mind, but all that did was make him think clearer, every disturbing image he tried so desperately to expel growing clearer and more vivid by the moment.

It was bad enough handling the physical pain, where every time he so much as shifted his form slightly, the tormented muscles in his back would scream in protest. But the physical side was tolerable, compared to being left at the mercy of his mind; a cruel, sinister thing.

So consumed he was in his own reverie, he hadn't even noticed as the door to his cell was unlocked, at least not until the light skirting around the corner had him snapping his eyes open and sitting up.

"This doesn't look good on you," a silky, almost serpentine voice called out.

"Superhero?" he asked, despising the note of trepidation in his voice.

"No. Just her lacklustre twin," she scoffed.

"Vigilante," he deduced with a slight fall of his shoulders in relief. It's not that he believed Vigilante would treat him well, it's just that no one could rival Superhero in cruelty.

"Still ever the genius," she responded dryly.

"What do you want?" he asked, almost desperate. If she was here to torment him, he wanted her to get over with it. It was becoming progressively more difficult to bear the state in which he was in, the one chock-full of waiting and thinning patience, of hoping the pain would start so it could end, that this time would pass faster.

Except it never did.

"It's strange seeing someone normally so high and mighty like this," she attested, dodging his question.

The older version of him would have let out a frustrated snarl and cussed her out for annoying him, but now all he could do was bite his tongue and stare at her with his new resting face, broken and defeated.

"Well, I'm not here to hurt you," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

That was a response, albeit an indirect one. And of course, she wasn't here to hurt him. She was here to make sure he was comfortable, that he was enjoying his five-star stay in this resort in hell.

Sucks to have an army of enemies and not a single semblance of a friend.

He and Vigilante hadn't really had any direct bad blood, but he was a villain locked up in here, so by default, he was supposed to be her enemy, right? It didn't matter who walked in here or whether they knew him or not. They just loved to see him break, to see him, once so relentlessly powerful, reduced to less than nothing. Perhaps it brought them a sort of sick satisfaction, but he didn't know much about satisfaction anymore to judge.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she said casually, like promising him the impossible was some sort of small punishment, nothing to tear himself up about. Maybe she could rival her sister in cruelty.

Without warning, a hysterical laugh escaped his throat, only for him to bite his lip and stop abruptly, trying to clamp a hand over his mouth only for him to remember he was chained up.

Vigilante's face fell, and his own had silent tears streaming down it. He felt as though he couldn't breathe, as though bricks were raining down on his shoulders and crushing his bones into nothing. His whole being seemed to itch with dread.

"Villain?" Vigilante called out, looking a mixture of confused and horrified.

"Just get over with it! Torture me until the floor runs red with my blood, tell me how death is a mercy above vermin like myself, and tell me to take it with a smile. Hit me harder when I can't bring myself to do it. Hit me until I feel all the pain of death but never attain it. Remember my current words as defiance, as another crime I've committed. I think watching me be humbled to the nothing I truly am will entertain you as any show would," he spat, only for regret to colour his features just as fast.

"Damn it. Villain, I don't want to do. . .any of this to you," Vigilante started, careful, trying for a semblance of gentle, something she was never particularly good at. "Like I said, I'm going to get you out of here," she continued again, hoping the stern tone indicated she was serious and not somehow going to torture him.

She'd never particularly liked him, mainly because he'd always been ice-cold, calculated to a point he seemed inhuman at times, no emotion whatsoever showing up on his face, besides a cool smugness. And by virtue of all the terrible things he'd done, all the blood on his hands. And yet, he was far from the worst thing out there, and most definitely not the villain in her story.

"And let's pretend you're telling the truth, which is completely fine by me because any mercy I've ever had here has always been a pretence, a figment of my imagination, you know. What could you possibly gain from this?" He raised an eyebrow, bearing a small resemblance to his usual self. Well, at least there was a slight amount of fight left in him, even if he was clearly holding back tears now.

But the villain's question wasn't completely outlandish. Vigilante did want something from him, but it wasn't a favour he would ever come to hate. "I need your help. My sister may seem like the goddamn tooth fairy to those who don't know better, but we know what her regime is really doing. This isn't about fighting crime, it's about her insatiable addiction to power."

"And where do I belong here?" The villain's voice still held the same disbelieving tone, his shoulders managing to tense even further.

"You're one of the few people who challenged her, Villain. And as much as it pains me to say it, you're a good strategist," she explained, even though she knew she'd barely convinced him in the slightest.

"I can't be the only one fitting that description, but I can be the only one owing you a favour too," he answered. Even if he didn't look half as confident, half as untouchable as before, the criminal was still just as clever. But it also meant he wasn't believing her anytime soon. Still, he wasn't wrong. The villain may not have smelled like roses all the time, but he'd be loyal to make sure they were even; a man of his word.

"What's it gonna be, Villain? Come with me or stay here?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest, growing impatient.

Well, it didn't make sense for her to give him a choice if she was going to torture him, but sense no longer governed things in his mind, letting a fearful apprehension replace it, no matter how humiliating. The choice could easily be an illusion, another cruel joke in this comedy skit from the filthiest parts of hell.

But it could be a chance, and he was desperate. So desperate he'd risk feeling even further degraded when she laughed in his face and put him through whatever torment she'd have planned.

"Fine," he answered, looking up at her with trepidation in his eyes. He could already feel the regret tasting like salt on his tongue and the burn of acid at the back of his throat he recognised as shame.

So when the sound of his chains being unlocked rang in his ears, and the vigilante helped him up, the feeling of surprise was palpable.

"I just need to handcuff you while they can see us," she explained, noticing how slowly the villain nodded, mistrust still burning in his eyes.

She didn't like how weightless he seemed against her, barely able to walk. She hadn't fought him much, but she clearly remembered that while his frame was somewhat slender, the villain's build still used to be athletic. It was no surprise he'd deteriorated, but that didn't make his fate any less cruel.

"I'm moving him to the other facility," she announced, practically dragging the half-starved villain with her, the only response being curt nods from the guards.

They were lucky that no one here would dare question Superhero and by default, her sister, if they could even tell the difference between both.

And sure enough, there was an entry documented into the other facility, done with the help of a few handsomely paid workers. And while Superhero wouldn't buy into the lie for long, it would at least make sure she didn’t notice immediately that something was up.

✨️Break✨️

The drive to Vigilante's house was almost torturously long and reeking of the tension of two people who weren't used to each other. The villain ran his fingers over his wrists, now free of handcuffs, but they still hurt. All of him hurt, a constant, dull pain that he was almost used to, but that didn't mean he didn't miss the times where he could remember moments without aches all over his body.

That was only the least of it anyway.

"I think you'd want to clean up," the vigilante had suggested when they'd got to her house.

Instead of an off-hand "yeah" like he'd meant to, the first words that foolishly came tumbling out of his mouth were: "I can?"

This wasn't an option they gave him back there, and soon enough he'd stopped caring entirely.

"Oh," Vigilante had responded, giving him a solemn look. "I mean, yes, of course you can," she corrected hastily.

He nodded, quite literally shoving himself into the bathroom and swallowing down the awkward shame in his throat.

He'd grown so accustomed to pain that he'd barely even noticed the sting of the hot water on his open, practically fresh wounds, or how the shower water underneath him turned a dull pink. He was a lot more focused on how his sore muscles relaxed with the heat, how he seemed to get lighter with all the dirt off him, good sensations having become foreign to him in the time of his captivity.

He walked out to find a change of clothes (his clothes) on the bed in the room outside, catching his reflection in the mirror, bruises lining his cheekbones and jaw and heavy, dark circles underneath his eyes. The villain simply ignored the old memories of himself taking the time to style his hair and care for his skin, his mind hardwired for survival, looking around the room for anything he could use in case he had to defend himself.

Not that Vigilante was stupid enough for that.

Still, if she wished to hurt him, she could've done it faster, could've done it earlier. Maybe the villain wouldn't trust her blindly, but so far, he hated her less bitterly than he hated everyone else.

"How'd you get these?" he asked, walking out, looking down at the black zip-up hoodie and black sweats.

Vigilante shrugged. "From your place."

"You broke into my- whatever." It wasn't the strangest part about the situation now. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I think you need to rest," she suggested.

And she was entirely correct, given his exhaustion and how the shower had made him somewhat sleepy, so he nodded his head, walking into "his" room and waiting until she walked up to her room, waiting until he could walk out and check if she'd slept, and once he was sure, he walked into the kitchen, picking up a knife and bringing it to his room.

The villain knew it was scummy, but he wasn't about to risk being hurt again, and if the vigilante truly had good intentions, the knife would never be put to use. Still, the villain had managed to fall into a fitful sleep, still better than any night he spent curled up on a cold, hard floor.

Trust is never easy, especially for those who have been hurt one too many times. But people were not made to live forever encased in solitude, a safe option to the blind and foolish, but never a permanent solution. And while taking a risk in times of suffering might seem like a wretched fate, sometimes it is the lifeline you need to breathe again.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

#niceeeee #h/v/s #villain whumpee

[whumpisfun]

one day, by chance, hero runs into villain's civilian identity. villain doesn't recognize them. seeing this as an invaluable chance to get more intel on their enemy, hero befriends villain.

and what they find is... bizarre. villain is always rather cheery and friendly when they fight, something that hero assumed to be mocking, but... no, villain really just is that friendly. in fact, if hero didn't know for certain that this was villain, they wouldn't believe it themselves. they can't imagine this person could hurt a fly.

as the two get closer, villain opens up a bit more. they keep it vague, but hero catches the occasional complaint about their boss and their job, about how they hate it, but they can't leave. that only poses more questions for hero. if villain hates being a villain, but they can't stop, then what's stopping them?

it isn't until the next time hero is in villain's apartment that they find the answer. villain goes into another room for a few minutes, and hero takes the opportunity to snoop a bit. but they don't have to look for long. because, carelessly left on the kitchen counter, (villain did seem more tired than usual) are extortion letters. supervillain is threatening villain's family if they don't comply with their demands.

and then - one cold, rainy night, hero is by themself at home, when the doorbell rings.

they open it to see villain, drenched to the bone and covered in blood - and considering all the tears and gashes in their clothes, and the way they're swaying on their feet, it's probably their own.

villain isn't even able to get a word out before their knees buckle and they pitch forward, hero thankfully catching them before they hit the ground and injure themself further.

villain's skin feels like ice, so hero focuses on getting their soaked clothes off, revealing the myriad of wounds both old and new, all across their body. hero freezes - this is far too much for just their first aid kit to handle. they grit their teeth. they do have one other option.

you see, hero has healing powers. they could use them here, but that would reveal their identity, potentially losing villain's trust forever.

#nice prompt! #whump prompts #h/v/s #villain whumpee

[whumpisfun]

Caretaking From The Enemy

The rest of Whumpee’s team has been wiped out, leaving them alone– And on the run. The longer they run, however, the worse things become. They’re hurt, hungry, barely able to walk

When Whumpee is at last captured, they fight with everything they have left. Of course, that’s not much. Their wrists have grown so thin that they barely fit in the handcuffs

Whumpee wakes up, wondering why they aren’t dead, yet. Do their enemies have something worse in mind?

Yet, when someone comes to visit them, they bring no cattle prod and no whip. Rather, they have food, and pills for Whumpee to take. They ask how Whumpee is feeling– Do they need anything?

What kind of trap is this?

Starving as they are, Whumpee won’t touch the food, and certainly not the pills.

“Getting better isn’t a choice. Either you eat, or it gets forced down your throat.”

Whumpee eats. They’re absolutely starving, and the food is the best thing they’ve ever tasted. The pills, too, dull the ache in their body

At last, Whumpee is able to rest. Their sleep is wracked by nightmares. When they awake, one of their greatest enemies is standing over them

“You were making a lot of noise. I was worried.”

The rest of the night, they manage to sleep peacefully

The next day, however, there is no peace. After breakfast, they’re taken from their cell. Carried from their cell, in fact. The vulnerability makes them want to scream, but they’re just so tired…

Whumpee is taken too see the team’s doctor. They fight the care at every step, squirming and struggling to escape. It takes half of the team to hold them down so that their wounds can be treated

But why is the enemy treating their wounds? Why do they care?

Over the next few days, Whumpee begins to feel… Comfortable. Almost. It feels wrong, relaxing in the base of the enemy.

But how long until the enemies show their true colors?

#I think about this #a lot #Whump prompts #enemy caretaker

[whumpisfun]

When Whumpee has to be the bad guy, the villain in the eyes of society but that is in reality protecting everyone from a greatest evil.

They are the villain, they have destroyed schools, killed 'innocent' people, but finally, after being the villain for so long they achieved their goal and saved the world from the shadows.

The only problem is that Hero's team found them.

Whumpee is now held captive by a group of Whumpers that hate them, and that won't listen to their pleas and screams that everything was for a great good.

Whumpee is all alone, crying, in a special cell made just for them. The heroes doesn't have to be fair or civil with them, nobody pities a villain. They deserve it.

They deserve it.

#villain whumpee #h/v/s #nice drabble👍 #bruh I’ve been away for a while there are so many good stuff in the tags

[whumpisfun]

Villain curled up in the alley, next to a dumpster. A half-opened bag of trash spilled out onto the ground. They toed aside a plastic bottle, watching it roll into the middle of the alley.

They watched a boot stop it from rolling any farther.

Villain drew back, instinctively covering their head with torn hands—still unhealed, still throbbing.

The wearer of the boots came closer, kicking aside the trash to grab Villain’s wrist.

“Please, please, you can’t—not again” Villain slipped back into begging as if it were a reflex. As if they had never been gone. As if the past two days of freedom had been nothing.

Supervillain hauled Villain to their feet. “Don’t worry. You’ve simply forgotten your training.” They tightened chains around Villain’s wrists and slapped their shoulder in an almost friendly way. “I’ll remind you.”

Almost friendly. Mostly terrifying.

#villain whumpee #h/v/s