The Merry Whump of May Day 18

“It’s Getting Late” - evilwriter37 - How to Train Your Dragon (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

Prompts:asphyxiated

Rated:teen

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

Pairings:none

Word Count:687

Summary: Alvin the Treacherous has Hiccup held captive, and is getting desperate for his dragon training knowledge.

evilwriter37:

The Merry Whump of May Day 18

“It’s Getting Late” - evilwriter37 - How to Train Your Dragon (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

Prompts:asphyxiated

Rated:teen

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

Pairings:none

Word Count:687

Summary: Alvin the Treacherous has Hiccup held captive, and is getting desperate for his dragon training knowledge.

Day 31 of @themerrywhumpofmay

Yay, I completed the challenge!

Sequel to Day 16: You’re Scared, Aren’t You?

Tropes and CWs: Survival situation, winged whumpees, wing whump, military whump.

Number six had given up.

Even back at the river, with dawn splitting the horizon into light, there was no sign of the skimmer coming to pick them up. The intervals between the chirrups in Pennon’s transmitter had only lengthened—finally stretching into silence. All Six could hear was his own pained breaths, and the terrifying rush of the rapids he’d almost drowned in the night before.

Pennon was sitting on a rock next to the river, staring at the water like he wanted to throw himself into the current. Before that, he’d been pacing up and down the riverbank. Six still saw some of that nervous energy work its way into his fidgeting hands.

“What do we do… sir?” Six clung onto the sir like it might get him out of this terrifying nowhere. Sir. Commander. He wondered if Pennon would still have a mind to snap at him if he called him Pennon. Kal, even. He took extra care to bite that one back. Cadets weren’t even supposed to know the first names of their superior officers. “We can’t stay around and…”

“If you have a better idea, speak up.” Pennon’s voice dragged with weariness. He wasn’t even being sarcastic. “They’ll have some idea of where we went down. Moving will only take us away from rescue.”

Six’s broken wing twitched at the memory of plummeting out of the sky, of Pennon’s arms grabbing him seconds before the fall split his skull on the rocks. They were lucky to both be alive. “I don’t have any better ideas, sir,” he admitted in a whisper.

“Thought not. You were hardly top of your class.”

Still enough energy to make a dig, then. The criticism almost gave Six hope. He settled down with his bare feet next to the water and splashed some on his face. He wondered how scratched and bruised the storm had left him. “Could the skimmer even land here?”

“Maybe they can send someone down,” Pennon said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Let me look at your wing.”

Six winced at Pennon’s touch, but there was no yanking or rough handling. Pennon’s fingers felt surprisingly gentle. “Not gonna sugar-coat it, kid. It doesn’t look good. We need to get you some medical support as soon as we can.”

Six closed his eyes. Being so far from friendly civilisation, the thought of a doctor seemed as remote and unobtainable as an airlift back to the mesas. “We’re going to die out here,” he said.

Pennon laid a hand between his shoulder blades, in a reassurance neither of them felt.

Day 30 of @themerrywhumpofmay

Tropes and CWs: Lab whump, thwarted rescue.

All it took was one button, and the alarm was blaring down every corridor. Caretaker ducked out of the way as the confusion began, even though they were still wearing the stolen laboratory coat. With the evacuation still in its early fumbling stages, it would not do to invite the scrutiny of staff who did not recognise them.

The prisoners did not follow the scientists outside. Caretaker bristled to think about what might have happened if there had been a real fire. Maybe they were panicking now, anticipating the billows of smoke or licks of flames. Maybe they were simply sitting in their cells, resigned. Waiting—maybe even hoping—for the fate that awaited them.

Whumpee was the latter.

In many ways, it was easier for Caretaker. Less noise, less fear that needed soothing. Even so, Caretaker flinched at the lack of reaction from the huddled shape on the bed. “Whumpee? Whumpee, it’s Caretaker. We’re leaving.”

Still no response. Whumpee’s eyes had glazed over, their soul somewhere outside their body. Caretaker had no time to wonder if that soul could be brought back. They grabbed Whumpee by their skinny wrist, dragging them towards the cell door.

“Assembly point, Whumpee. They’ll be at the assembly point. We’ll just need to go the other way and…”

The alarms died, and Caretaker’s words with them. Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside the cell, pausing at the open door. Whumpee huddled into Caretaker—their first real sign of life—as the startled scientist found their words.

“Now, what are you doing?”

May 7th “Relax”

@themerrywhumpofmay

Okay, this one is a doozy and I’ve held onto it so that I could get to the cannon noncon first. It’s short, the noncon is only like two paragraphs and not detailed. (If you’ve been following cannon, that’s what I mean by detailed.) Heed the tags though for other Volkov horribleness.

This is my last Merry Whump of May post. I did them all! \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/

Comfort | Branded | Trembling 

Ben was sobbing and trembling with absolute terror.  He knew what was coming.  Volkov had tattooed him repeatedly during his first captivity.  Apparently, it was a Russian thing, that’s what Volkov had told him.  Ben had been having regular appointments to have the tattoos removed since he’d been rescued.  And now, stripped down to his underwear, bent over face down on a table, wrists tied together underneath the table, legs bound to the lower end of the legs, he knew there would be no removing this. 

Volkov had been furious when he’d seen the faded and disappearing tattoos when he’d taken Ben’s shirt off on the plane.  Ben’s ribs were still bruised from the beating he’d taken as a result. 

Ben glances helplessly to where Jake was bound on his knees, with his arms pulled up nearly vertical behind him and secured to a hook in the pillar.  There was blood still on Jake’s face and burns on his chest and abdomen from the electric baton they’d used on him.  His mouth was stretched around a black rubber ball as he screamed for his brother, screamed for them not to hurt him, screamed for them to hurt him instead.

Their eyes locked and they were both terrified for each other.  Ben had a ball in his mouth as well and he couldn’t do the one thing he wanted to do which was to reassure his brother that it was going to be okay.  Was it? a little scared voice asked inside his head. 

Volkov stroked his hair and Ben sucked in a gasp of air through his nose. 

“You tried to erase who you belong to, didn’t you?”

Ben whimpered and shook his head. 

“You’re mine.  Always.  You will always be mine.  And I’m going to make sure you remember that this time, Malyshka.” 

Ben dissolved into sobs again.  Dmitri approached and handed Volkov the glowing white metal.  Ben squealed in terror and doubled his struggles, forgetting temporarily that he was trying so hard to be strong for his brother, to not make it worse for him.  Volkov leaned over and kissed Ben’s spine, licking the spot between his shoulder blades where his mark would reside. 

Volkov straightened up and then he brought the branding iron close to Ben’s skin, letting him feel the heat, dragging out the terror on the boy’s face before pressing it into his skin.  Ben’s scream rose to a shriek of absolute agony. 

Jake screamed from where he knelt, barely even able to keep his head raised due to the strain on his shoulders from his stress position.  He would not look away though.  He wouldn’t leave his brother alone in this.  If all he could do was bear witness to what Volkov was doing to him then he would do it. 

It seemed like an eternity before Volkov pulled the brand away from Ben’s skin, leaving a stinking burned smell in the air and literal smoke rising up from the horrific mark on Ben’s flesh.  Ben’s body continued to quake and twitch while he screamed through the pain, eyes squeezed tight shut. 

Jake didn’t think it could get any worse.  But then Volkov did the unthinkable and tore off Ben’s boxers.  Ben screamed and thrashed, eye’s shooting open and his panicked gaze meeting Jake’s.  Jake held his gaze while Volkov prepared himself. 

Both brothers cried out when Volkov thrust roughly into Ben.  Jake watched powerless as Ben was brutally used.  Thankfully, Volkov didn’t last long, too aroused by what he’d just done.  He collapsed onto Ben’s back, hips still jerking as he finished himself inside of his captive. 

Ben lay utterly exhausted and in extreme pain.  Volkov pulled out of him and ran his fingers over the fresh brand on Ben’s back. 

“So beautiful, so fucking perfect, Malyshka.”

Ben’s eyes slipped closed and all he could do was breathe.  He was so tired.  He felt his restraints being loosened and then he was pulled off the table.  He let himself be dragged away, unable to even open his eyes and process where he was being taken.  He sank to the ground where he was dropped and passed out. 

*!*!*!*!*

Jake was finally released from the stress position he’d been held in for hours.  They’d taken another hour after taking Ben away to beat and shock him.  He was exhausted and in pain, but he forgot all that when they dumped him in a stone room with Ben. 

They dragged him to a wall and chained his wrists and ankles to make sure he couldn’t get away from the wall, but the chains were long enough that he could slip down to the floor.  He reached out and could just barely reach Ben, who was only chained by his wrists. 

He pulled on the chains, arms screaming with pain and dragged his brother’s limp body towards him.  He checked his pulse.  Thank God, he’s still breathing.  He pulled Ben to his bare chest and cradled his little brother against him. 

He was careful not to touch the fresh circular brand on the back of his shoulders.  The stylized letter V filling the middle of it.  Jake’s eyes flooded with tears as he took in the injuries up close.  He didn’t care how weak his body felt, he was going to hold on to Ben as long as he could.  He rocked him in his arms like he did when they were children.  He remembered being a precocious eight-year-old and having to sit very still when his mama put the tiny bundle of new baby in his arms. 

He’d promised he’d protect him, that he’d be a good big brother.  His tears dripped down into Ben’s head as he kissed his hair.  Chalk it up to one more fucking failure in his life. 

“I’m sorry.  I’m so fucking sorry…”

*!*!*!*!*

When Ben awoke, he was resting against a warm surface.  It was soft, but it moved.  Ben felt himself raising and lowering slightly, but every now and then it shook.  He could hear crying.  Someone had an arm around him and for a split second he thought it was Volkov.  But why would Volkov be crying?  He wouldn’t. 

Ben blinked his eyes open.  The room was dark, the warm surface beneath him moved slightly and Ben could hear chains rattle with the movement. 

“I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry.  Oh God am I sorry.  Please be okay.  Please.  Please. Please.”

Jake.  Ben moved his arms slowly, weakly, and wrapped them around his brother.  He felt his brother kiss the top of his head like he used to do when Ben was very small. He winced as the movement pulled at the fresh brand at the center of his shoulder blades. Volkov was such a fucking bastard.

“No’ your faul’, Jake,” Ben whispered.  “Ne’er your faul’,” he slurred, jaw still aching from the gag. 

Jake let out a small sob. 

“I… I love you, Jake.”

“Love you too, baby brother.”

Ben stayed pillowed on his brother’s chest, arms wrapped around each other for a long time.  Neither of them spoke; what was there to say?  They cried off and on, sometimes together, sometimes just one or the other, but neither of them broke contact.  They needed each other.  The truth was, any second here with Volkov could either be their last with the other, or their last moment alive. 

Both of them fell into a distraught slumber brought on by utter exhaustion, breath hitching even as they slept. 

May 27th “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

@themerrywhumpofmay

Also, thanks to @whumpcereal for this idea. I was struggling with this prompt. LOL!

Mask | Nightmare | Pliers

Ben stared up at the terrifying mask.  Ben was fastened to an inclined table and stripped down to his boxers, this was the stuff of his nightmares.  Was this a nightmare?  And the face on the mask… Ben shuddered at the twisted, carved form of a corpse face looking down on him. 

“Now little Benjamin, let’s find out what you’re made of, shall we?”

Ben strained helplessly as his mouth was forced open – open so wide he could feel his jaw ache and click.  Ben’s eyes widened in terror as a pair of pliers descended towards his open mouth.  They clamped around one of his teeth and started to tug.  Ben’s eyes watered and he wanted to scream, but no sound came from his mouth. 

Ben jerked awake in the dark.  The sound of the chains rattling set his teeth on edge and reminded him where he was – that and the fact that he was warm.  The only time he was warm was when he was in his bed.  He was curled up as much as the chains on his wrists and ankles would allow, Volkov spooned around him, limbs tangled with his own.  Ben hated that he reveled in the warmth. 

Volkov knew exactly what he was doing when he’d chained him to that cross outside.  He’d brought him back here to his bed and wrapped him in blankets.  He’d explained that the only way he got a blanket, or a pillow, was when he was with him.  When Ben chose to be with him. 

He’d made him ask - made him beg.  Ben had sworn he wouldn’t at first, but he was so cold in his cage and it was always so warm in Volkov’s bed.  It was the one reprieve to the disgusting things that happened to him here, to the things he made Ben do here. 

“Malyshka?  Did you have a bad dream, my little kitten?”  Volkov’s voice was thick with sleep, his Russian accent gruffer as a result. 

“N-no, I’m, I’m, I’m sorry I woke you, you, sir,” Ben said quietly.  He could feel Volkov’s erection pressing against his back and god, he hoped that the mad Russian would just go back to sleep. 

“No, tell me, my darling.  You can tell me anything,” Volkov’s voice was soft and questioning.  Ben knew not to trust it. 

“I-it’s fine.  Go back to sleep.  It was, was n-nothing.”

“Tell me, Malyshka.” 

Ben could hear the command in Volkov’s voice.  He huffed out a breath and slowly, reluctantly, recounted what he could of the terrifying dream.  As if anyone needed to tell him who the man in the mask was.  It was either Volkov or Dmitri, the two men who had hurt him the most over the last few months.  Maybe Ilya as well. 

“Let me see… my Babushka used to interpret dreams.”  He was thoughtful for a moment.  Ben hoped desperately that he’d fallen back asleep, but of course, no such luck.  “Maybe this man in the mask represents that you do not know who you can trust.  Perhaps you are worried about who might be hiding, lurking behind a mask to hurt you.  Like your brother, kitten, he was behind a mask all along, wasn’t he?”

Don’t fucking talk about Jake! Ben wanted to scream.  His brother made some mistakes, he wasn’t a monster, not like the man who had Ben chained in his bed. 

Ben nodded his head obediently.  Perhaps if he just went along, they could go back to sleep. 

Volkov continued with his farcical dream interpretation.  “Losing your teeth could be kin to you losing control.  And we certainly both know you have none of that around here, do you my little scholar?”

“N-no, sir,” Ben said, barely above a whisper.  He swallowed hard as Volkov’s hand drifted from his hip and down around to cup him between his legs. 

Volkov stroked Ben with one hand while he turns the boy’s face with his other towards him.  His mouth was on Ben’s, tongue demanding and receiving entry.  Ben knew not to fight it.  Maybe Volkov would be quick.  Volkov pulled away.

“The only interest I’d have in taking your teeth would be if you forgot yourself while you’re performing for me.  We have found some great uses for that tongue of yours, haven’t we?” 

Ben closed his eyes in the dark of the room.  “Y-y-yes… Yes, sir.”

“Now, forcing your mouth open…” Volkov reached behind him to the bedside table for the conveniently located ring gag.  “I think we can arrange that.  Open up, little scholar.”

May 28th “I’d rather not”

@themerrywhumpofmay

Faked death | Iron | Ditch

Whumpee trembled next to whumper, blood oozing from the gash whumper had carved into their hands, which were bound behind their back.  They watched the body of the unknown and unfortunate homeless man burn to ashes in the ditch in front of them next to their wrecked car. 

“Now comes the hard part, my darling, but it’s necessary for us to stay together and remain unbothered,” Whumper crooned lovingly into their ear. 

What more could they want?  They’d already forced the blood from their hands so it could be sprinkled all around the fire. 

Whumper took out a pair of plant cutters and grabbed whumpee’s bound wrists.  They twisted their arms until whumpee was bent nearly double with the strained position. 

Whumpee let out an unearthly scream as the blades clamped around their pinky finger and contracted.  There was no pulling or fighting, they couldn’t from the position that Whumper held them.  They screamed and screamed hysterically as Whumper cut both pinky fingers from their hands.  They collapsed to the ground as pure agony radiated up their arms.  Their hands throbbed, permanently mutilated forever.  Their remaining fingers trembled violently as they tried to process what whumper had just done. 

Whumpee watched as his fingers were tossed to the edge of the fire where they would be burned, but easily identifiable and therefore most likely to be tested for viable fingerprints or DNA. 

Whumper grabbed whumpee by the iron collar around their neck. 

“There, it’s done my lovely.  Now we shant ever be disturbed.  I have a lovely home ready for us to go to.  It’s on an island.  It’ll just be the two of us.  Forever.  Isn’t that wonderful?”

They dragged whumpee toward the waiting vehicle. 

“I know that was unpleasant, but it was a necessary sacrifice, don’t you agree?”

Whumpee could feel the blood pulsing from the missing digits and they grew faint, knees buckling. 

Whumper caught them delicately in their arms.  “Oh you poor thing.  You must be exhausted.  Faking your own death is hard work, isn’t it?  Come.  Let’s get those wounds cauterized.  I rather not have you bleeding out on me. I left the cigarette lighter on in the car for just that purpose.  It’s why I chose this old relic.  And then we’ll be at the air strip and on my private plane in no time.  We can finally relax.  No one will be looking for us.”

Whumpee finally fainted when the glowing hot metal of the cigarette lighter was pressed against the wound where their pinky used to be. 

May 31st “…Sir?”

@themerrywhumpofmay

Middle of nowhere | Freezing | Lighter

Jake lay strapped to the table where Ben usually was.  Ben was off with Volkov suffering through whatever Volkov did to him.  Jake knew, but his attention was focused on the pugilistic face of Dmitri, staring down at him.  Volkov had left the underling in charge of him, and Jake knew it was going to be a rough night. 

“Alcohol is funny thing,” Dmitri said in his stupidly thick accent.  “It doesn’t freeze solid, and will still burn.”

What the hell does that mean? Jake wondered.  He would have asked just to be a smart mouth, but his smart mouth was trapped behind a muzzle.  Volkov liked Jake muzzled.  They used that one a lot.  They treated Jake like a dog.  Ben had to kneel and be hand fed, Jake was chained to the floor on all fours and fed from a dog bowl. 

Dmitri took a cotton ball and doused it in Vodka.  Ice.  Cold.  Vodka. 

Jake was stretched out on his back to the point that he couldn’t move.  Dmitri set the freezing little ball of cotton on Jake’s thigh and then dipped another one into the glass of vodka.  He repeated this until there were three balls of soaked cotton on each of his thighs. 

“Don’t move, Jakey.  If they fall off, I pin them to your skin.”  Dmitri shrugged.  “I may do that anyway.  For fun.  Watch you squirm.”  Dmitri’s devilish grin split his face. 

If Jake ever got the chance, he’d murder the son of a bitch.  Well, if he could do it and it not result in Ben getting punished.  Volkov was adept at keeping them in check by punishing the other if they stepped out of line. 

Dmitri set more frozen little blobs of soaked cotton on his body – across his chest, his ribs, the center of his stomach, his belly button.  He sat back and looked Jake over, seeming satisfied with his work. 

Dmitri took out a lighter with a flourish and lit a cigarette.  He pulled in a lungful and then blew the smoke over Jake’s face. 

Stupid idiot, I’m muzzled, you dumb fuck.  It filters out your smoke.  Bastard.  Jake smirked under the muzzle.  Dmitri may be a sick fuck, but no one could accuse him of being bright. 

Suddenly he flicked the lighter to life and lit the cotton ball just above Jake’s knee.  Jake screamed as the flame swiftly engulfed the alcohol-soaked ball, burning the skin beneath as the fire consumed it.  He thrashed as much as the chains would allow, dislodging several cotton balls. 

Dmitri tsked and pulled out a set of straight pins.  “Looks like I’ll be pinning them in place after all.”

Jake cried and struggled as Dmitri pinned the cotton balls to his skin.  When they were all in back in place.  He started lighting them, one by one.  Jake screamed and screamed. The flame burned out fairly quickly, but in its place, it left angry red blisters that covered his chest, abdomen, and legs. 

The door opened and Volkov walked in on the torture session.  He looked down at Jake and smiled. 

“That is lovely Dmitri.”  He reached out and poked one of the burns over Jake’s left nipple. 

Jake moaned and tried to twist away. 

“I bet Benjamin would look good with a few of these.”

“Where is little Benjamin?”

“I left him with some of his favorite toys.  I’ve got a few hours before I need to go back and check on him.  So, I thought I’d see how your experiment was going.  This is excellent.”

Dmitri smiled as he basked in the Pahkan’s praise. 

“Watch this.”  He took the cotton balls and stuffed them between each of Jake’s toes. 

May 30th “What are you doing?”

@themerrywhumpofmay

This one is BBU featuring the always horrible WRU. Be aware. Also, we always think of males working there, but I would bet they’re not above using the tactics found in this piece. Let me know what you think.

Car | Last resort | Alarm

Connor Lightfoot’s parents had said it a million times. He’d been warned.  Don’t go to bars alone.  Don’t accept drinks from people you don’t know.  Always have a buddy.  His parents were a part of the pet liberation movement.  They loathed the WRU.  Connor was raised to be wary of the Goliath corporation.  He’d heard all the horror stories.  He’d met pets that had been freed.  He’d heard their harrowing stories of what happened in training. 

He knew.  He knew to be careful. It’s why he preferred the bars on the Reservation. The WRU weren’t allowed to operate there, not legally at least.

Connor was two years into his college degree when his parents, being who they were, had to go into hiding from the WRU and the authorities.  Connor knew they couldn’t contact him and he couldn’t contact them.  But he also knew it wouldn’t be forever.  Just for now.  They said they’d be in touch but that it would be secret.  He’d accepted it. 

He understood how important their work was to them.  And he knew they loved him.  They had done what they did so that his world would be better.  They hadn’t wanted to go into hiding.  It had been a last resort to avoid prison or being collared themselves. 

Connor had gone on with his studies and pursuits.  They had nothing on him.  He wasn’t involved.  It had been over six months since he’d heard from them. Wherever they were, they were well hidden.

He and his buddies had gone to one of the Reservation bars for a break from their difficult courses.  Connor rubbed his temples.  His law classes were stressful and he just needed to unwind.  He would have danced with one of the two girls that were currently on the dance floor with his buddies, but they hadn’t asked him.  And he was so tired, that he was not even sure he’d have been that into it. 

The bar tender handed him a drink.  He looked up at the man and the bar tender motioned to the girl at the end of the bar. 

“Thanks, but no thanks.  I don’t take drinks from strangers,“ he said, waving and smiling at the woman.  His parents’ faces flashed before his eyes and all their warnings. 

The girl approached him and smiled.  “What are you doing, pretty boy, all by your lonesome over here?”  She smiled up at him through her batting eyelashes, looking him over, taking in his straight black hair, his black eyes and ruddy Native American complexion.  “You’re cute.”  She winked at him.  “Wanna, dance?”

Connor was taken a back.  She was cute too.  He let her lead him out to the dance floor, on the opposite side from his friends.  They spun and turned and twirled around the dance floor.  Where were his friends anyway?

She spun them over near the rear exit and slipped her arms up around his neck.  There was a sharp prick on the back of his neck where her hands rested. 

“Ouch.” 

“Oops, sorry.  I have a loose prong on my ring.  I really should get that looked at.  I need to find a good jeweler.  Do you know one?  My daddy always said he didn’t trust jewelers…”

She prattled on and the world seemed to tilt and grow hazy.  She tugged him toward the dark rear exit.  He stumbled after her.  And then there were others there.  Guys.  Big guys, all in black.  And he was falling against one of them.

“Look at the little rebel liberation spawn.  He’s going to be beautiful in a collar.  Wait until his parents find out.”

“Wha-?  No… No collar.  Won’t sign an’th’ng,” Connor slurred.  Alarm bells were going off in the back of his head, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about them. 

A white van pulled up and Connor was dragged, half stumbling to the van.  He should be scared.  This wasn’t right.  Wasn’t right.  Run Connor!  Run! he tried to tell himself, but he couldn’t.  He was shoved to the floor of the van and his wrists were pulled behind him.

“N’…” He tried to slur.  Thick plastic zip ties were fastened around his wrists and pulled tight.  Connor grunted from the pain.  They hauled him into the van and several other people got in.  Connor’s vision swirled as he sort of recognized the girl he’d been dancing with, and the two girls that had pulled his friends away from him to dance.  He blinked trying to focus. 

The zip ties were secured around his ankles and Connor whimpered.  There was something so very wrong happening.  Someone grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back.  Hands squeezed his jaw open and a bit was forced between his teeth before a thick canvas muzzle was fastened over his face. 

Connor moaned helplessly.  He felt the vehicle moving underneath him as they took a corner fast.  When had they even started moving?

He always got carsick when he rode in the back seat.  So, laying bound, gagged, and drugged halfway to fairyland didn’t seem to be helping.  His stomach revolted at the motion and the close proximity of the air from the muzzle.  Connor had to fight to keep from vomiting.  Some voice in the back of his head told him that would be bad, and he should avoid it at all costs. 

Still holding his hair, to keep his head up, Connor choked out a sob of terror as a black collar was fastened around his throat. 

They dropped his head to the floor, and someone kicked his ribs.  Connor groaned. 

“Exactly as you should be, liberation scum.”  He didn’t know who said it, it didn’t matter. 

Connor’s eyes rolled in his head as he turned his cheek to the floor of the van, the one cool surface he could find. 

Connor never fully passed out.  He couldn’t focus very well, couldn’t move, and couldn’t speak.  But he was awake.  He was awake for the hours long van ride to whatever facility they were taking him.  He was awake as they taunted him and his parents for their beliefs.  He was awake as he slowly began to really process what was happening.  He was awake as he realized that despite all the warnings, all the precautions, he’d still been snatched by the fucking WRU. 

He’d seen and heard enough to know what was coming.  He knew what they were going to do to him.  Would they erase him?  They weren’t supposed to, not anymore, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.  They weren’t supposed to fucking kidnap people either. 

When the van pulled to a stop and he was dragged out, he was shoved to his knees in front of someone with a black handler’s uniform on.  The man took his picture and smiled at him. 

“Just wait until mommy and daddy find out.  It’ll bring their liberation asses out of hiding for sure.  And in the meantime…” he pulled out a small rectangular remote and pressed the button.

Connor’s back arch and he screamed as electricity rippled through his body.  He slumped to the floor after a few second, tremors still zinging through him as he glared up at the handler.

“You get a new career path.  You’re rather pretty, college boy, so I’m sure there will be plenty of buyers lined up once you’re trained.  Personally, I hope you resist at every stage so we can train every bit of defiance out of you.  Serve you and your bastard family right.”

He pressed the button again and this time didn’t stop.  Connor screamed his throat raw and eventually passed out from a lack of oxygen.  He hadn’t been able to pull in a breath. 

When he awoke, he was in his greatest nightmare.  The thing he’d spent years learning how to avoid and the thing he saw in his nightmares that would leave him lying awake in bed too scared to shut his eyes again for fear the horrible dream would start up again. 

He was stripped down to a pair of gray shorts, hands and feet chained to a bolt in the floor, still collared and muzzled, in a completely white room with blindingly bright white lights. 

May 29th “Don’t make me”

@themerrywhumpofmay

Sorry, I got behind on these so I’ll post a couple a day for the next two or three days. Oops.

Collared | Cane | Flinching

Ben flinched as the mask over his eyes was removed.  He trembled at the sight before him.  Jake was stripped down to his boxer briefs and stretched out vertically in an X shape.  There was a bar between his wrists and one between his ankles.  His brother had a bit between his teeth, and it looked like his collar was fastened to tight.  Ben can hear a sort of wheezing coming from him, like he’s straining to breathe.  He was blindfolded too. 

Ben hadn’t been allowed to see his brother for the last several days.  Volkov said that Jake had been naughty and needed to be punished.  From the looks of it, he had certainly been punished.  There were electrical burns and bruises and countless cuts and scrapes that covered his brother’s back, arms and legs, as well as roughly one inch circular burns that littered his body. What the fuck had caused those?

Ben trembled as he looked at him.  What had he done to deserve this?  It reminded him of when Volkov had punished him for not coming out of his cage fast enough.  Tears slipped down his cheek as he looked him over.  Jake was clearly exhausted.  His head hung low against his chest, he didn’t look up or acknowledge Ben’s presence.  Ben looked at Volkov who had a sadistic grin on his face.  God I hate you, Ben thought viciously. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen.  You’ve been through punishment, Benjamin.  You understand.  So, you’ll be teaching today’s lesson to your brother.”

“W-what?”

“You’ll be administering his punishment.”

“I don’t… what are you… what do you mean?”

Dmitri stepped towards him and that’s when Ben saw the cane in his hands. 

“N-n-no!  No, you… you can’t make me do th-that.  No.”

“You’ll administer the cane to Jake’s body where instructed, or I’ll let Dmitri do with an added bonus.”

Ben looked at Volkov, eyes questioning him. 

“Refuse to carry out your brother’s punishment and I make you watch as Dmitri get’s to use your brother in whatever way he wants as often as he wants until I’m ready to take you back to our bed.”

Ben swallowed hard.  He couldn’t hurt his brother.  Not like this.  Dmitri put the cane in his hands. 

“Please, can… can I please talk to him?”

“Punishment first.  Do it and I’ll let you two share a cell tonight.”

Ben saw his brother’s shoulder’s shake slightly.  He could tell Jake was in pain. 

“Consider it payback for all you have suffered because of him.”

“It’s not like that.  I mean… I don’t think like that.”

“Really?  You’ve never had a moment where you wished it had been him, and not you?”

Ben drops his eyes from Volkov’s, knowing that he’ll see the truth of his thoughts there.  He remembers a harsh conversation where he’d nearly shouted the same thing at Jake at home in their kitchen after he’d been rescued. 

“I thought so.  Now do it! Or give Dmitri back the cane and watch him utterly ruin your pathetic brother.”

It really was best if he did it.  But god, he knew how much it hurt.  He didn’t want to hurt him.  Even if Jake was to blame, Ben truly didn’t want him hurt.  But the only way to save Jake, in this instance, was to hurt him.  Would Jake forgive him?  He looked at Jake, he couldn’t see his face, but despite his trembling, it looked like he was nodding his head yes.  Was he trying to tell Ben it was okay?

Ben held the cane in a tremulous grip.  “O-okay,” he agreed in a very small voice.  “But, sir, please, c-can I talk to him?  It’s been days.  Please.”

“You can talk after.”

Ben swallowed and nodded.  Volkov would not be negotiated with.  He glanced over to see a video camera ready to record the beating.  He looked back at Volkov who once again had a cruel, smug smile on his face. 

Ben pulled in a deep steadying breath.  He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this.  He approached his brother.  The wheezing got louder the closer he got.  “Please,” he said, turning back to Volkov, “could you at least loosen his collar so he can breathe?  I can hear him struggling from here.”

Volkov assented and Dmitri unlocked the padlock and loosened the collar, then locked the tiny padlock back into place.  Ben was relieved to see a fraction of the tension in his brother’s body loosen. 

Ben stood behind Jake, just off to his left.  He raised the cane, but it felt thick, heavy and unwieldy in his grasp, despite its apparent suppleness. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Ben whispered, and he hoped it was loud enough that his brother could hear him. 

The cry that Ben let out as he swung the cane at Jake’s back was nearly as loud as Jake’s when the rod touched his back. 

Of the non-Brother’s Keeper stories that I wrote for Merry Whump of May, which of the following would you like to see me continue?

So, as promised, I made a poll of all the non-Brother’s Keeper stories from the Merry Whump of May for you all to vote on. You are voting for which three you would like for me to possibly continue. You can vote once a day and I will leave the poll open for the next two weeks.

Also, if you would be interested in co-writing any of these OR taking one and running with it on your own, then let me know. :-)

I tried to link to the stories in the vote button, but that was a no-go, so, you can find my Masterlist here if you can’t remember what each story is about.

darkthingshappen:

Brother’s Keeper Masterlist

Content Warnings: clearly marked in chapter tags.  HEED THE TAGS.  This fic will contain noncon in some chapters and elements of noncon or threatened noncon throughout. 

Chapter 1: Acquisition For Repayment

Chapter 2: A Lesson in Regret

Chapter 3: Getting Off on the Wrong Foot

Chapter 4: For Your Viewing Pleasure

Chapter 5: Welcome Home

Chapter 6: Breakfast of Champions

Chapter 7: Watch and Learn

Chapter 8: Aftermath

Chapter 9: (Part 1) Anticipation

Chapter 9: (Part 2) Action

Chapter 10: A Step Out of Line

Chapter 11: The Skin You Live In

Chapter 12: Game Changer

Chapter 13: Times Up, Part 1

Chapter 13: Time’s Up, Part 2

Extras that may or may not end up in cannon – if they end up in cannon, they’ll be part of a larger chapter in chronological order. 

Don’t Mind Me (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 3rd)

Shoulder’s Back, Eyes on Me (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 4th) (Appears in cannon)

May I Cut In (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 5th)

Who Died and Left You in Charge? (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 6th)

Relax (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 7th)

They’re Not Here (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 10th)

Lock the Door (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 11th)

How Squeamish Are You? (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 12th)

When Did You Get So Brave? (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022- May 15th)

Let’s Go Back Inside (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 17th)

It’s Getting Late (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 18th)

Are You Cold? (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 21st)

Please (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 23rd) (fluff)

Do You Need a Break (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 24th)

A Little Louder (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 25th)

I’m Sorry, I’m So Sorry (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 27th)

Don’t Make Me (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 29th)

…Sir? (Part of the Merry Whump of May 2022 - May 31st)

Other Merry Whump of May Entries that are not Bother’s Keeper Related (Be sure to heed all the tags for each entry):

May 1st: Don’t Hold Your Breath

May 2nd: Beg to Differ

May 8th: Does That Hurt

May 9th: You Can Cry, It’s Okay

May 13th: Wait Right Here

May 14th: You Don’t Wanna Do That

May 16th: You’re Scared, Aren’t You

May 19th: I’m All You Need

May 20th: Don’t Leave Me Here

May 22nd: Get in!

May 26th: I Don’t Know What You Mean

May 28th: I’d Rather Not

May 30th: What Are You Doing?

Updated Masterlist with ALL THIRTY-ONE Merry Whump of May prompts completed!!!!! \o/\o/\o/\o/

It’s almost evenly split between future Brother’s Keeper drabbles and whumpee/whumper type stories with one named character drabble.

This was sooooooo fun. I’m looking forward to doing something like this soon. It’s the summer and I wanna write!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Middle of nowhere, Freezing, Lighter

Content Warnings: Alcohol, possible addiction to alcohol implied, being hunted, dubcon touch

A’s knuckles turned white as they gripped the seat. The car came to a shuddering halt and B immediately opened the car door and stepped out onto the frosted grass. His oxfords now even shinier with the meltwater.

A quickly undid their seatbelt and opened the door to join B. “Where are we, sir?” they inquired, looking around the grey landscape. The pair were next to a field of cows making their way to a cowshed and beyond that was the looming darkness of a pine forest.

“I don’t know,” B said, unscrewing the cap of his flask. His hands shook, from cold, fear, or need of a drink, he didn’t know anymore. B took two swigs from the flask and offered it to A as they rounded the bonnet of the sleek black vehicle. 

A shook their head and slipped their hands into the pockets of their long black coat. They swayed from side to side, hoping B would soon say something to explain this sudden drive out into the country. Their fingers played with the small silver lighter B had gifted them at only New Year’s, the grooves of the design soothing to their cold fingertips.

But B just walked forward, towards the stile that lead into the cow field. He with ease hoisted himself up and over the stile and turned back to his puzzled friend, A. Waving them over, he offered A his hand as their short legs struggled with the swing needed.

A jumped down the other side of the stile, and B steadied them, his arms on either side of A. A looked up at their employer, their friend and could see straight through the warm haze of alcohol and to the frightened man within.

“…Sir?” asked A as B’s gentle almost-embrace did not end.

“I’ve done something very stupid, A,” uttered B, his warm whisky breath kissing the tip of A’s cold nose. He stared out, his eyes seeing something that A could not. “We need to hide, we need to disappear.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue

Content Warnings: Just a little bit of angst; paranoid whumpee

“What are you doing?” asked Whumpee, sitting up in bed as he felt the comforting weight of Caretaker disappear from next to him.

Caretaker slipped on his dressing gown and turned with a small touch of a smile at his lips. “Getting breakfast for us both, but it won’t be a while yet, you can go back to sleep, handsome,” he said and leaned over to kiss Whumpee on the cheek.

Biting his lip, Whumpee leaned into the kiss and when Caretaker pulled away, he placed his hand over where his lips had been, shielding the kiss. “You’ll come back?”

“Of course,” whispered Caretaker, tears rising in his eyes. “I’ll always will.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Flinching

Content Warnings: Restrained, threats of violence, threat of eye horror, blade, noncon touch with blade

Whumpee laughed and shook their head as Whumper stood breathing deeply in front of them. “You’re not gonna do shit,” they scoffed. Their breath floated towards Whumper, almost mockingly from the chair they were bound to.

Whumper looked down at the meat hook in their hand. Their brow furrowed and they looked back to Whumpee. 

Whumpee continued to smirk, their bare arms just as unbothered by the chill of the freezer as their brain by Whumper’s threats.

Whumper shifted their grip on the hook and took one step forward.

Whumpee looked up at Whumper, their grey eyes revealing no fear. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Whumper took another step forward and they felt their jaw clench. They had been preparing for this moment for months. Whumpee would be scared. They would be sobbing by the end of it all.

“You’re gonna just stand there, thinking you can break me just with a threat,” Whumpee chuckled again. “You’re pathetic.”

The air from ‘pathetic’ drifted over Whumper and their whole body shuddered. Whumper looked away and blinked. “God,” they muttered. Whumpee was right, they had got to actually hurt them. 

“D-Don’t make me,” Whumper warned, their grip once again shifting on the meat hook.

Whumpee cocked their head to the side and smiled.

Whumper’s arms began to tremble, as anger coursed through them. Rushing over to Whumpee, Whumper stared straight down at them.

Rather than be startled or intimidated, Whumpee continued to cockily smile, their eyebrows raised like a challenge.

Slowly, Whumper dragged the blunt curve of the hook down Whumpee’s arm, hoping the cold of the metal would elicit some sort of shudder or shake from them, but nothing.

“You can just let me go, kid,” murmured Whumpee. Their gaze followed Whumper’s as it went down Whumpee’s skin. “You can just let me go and forget about all of this.”

The hook’s point flew to just millimetres above Whumpee’s eye. Surprisingly, Whumpee actually flinched and their stoney eyes actually wobbled for a second.

“Don’t mock me,” mumbled Whumper.

“Never,” whispered Whumpee.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

im quite proud of this drabble actually… please like it lol

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue

Content Warnings: Blood, blade, injury

“Now’s your chance, Whumpee,” coughed Whumper, leaning against the blood-spattered wall. “You can crush me, maim me. Then love me, care for me. Before you do it all over again. Like I did to you.”

Whumpee stood over Whumper, their hand still gripping the knife as blood circled their wrist before trickling down to their elbow and hitting the floor. Rich dark blood, the colour of the sky just before the night.

“I’d rather not,” smiled Whumpee, their eyes alive for the first time in years. “I’d rather you cry alone. Just…” Whumpee began to laugh even as tears streamed down their face. “Just you and your pain and the knowledge it is all yours.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Mask, Nightmare

Content Warnings: Hospital setting, medical equipment, blood, (accidental) self harm, drugged

Caretaker woke with a start and sat up in the rough plastic chair he had fallen asleep in. 

Whumpee groaned as he tried to roll over in bed but couldn’t because of the pain in every part of him and the wires and tubes that covered him.

Caretaker eased himself up from the chair, still bleary-eyed but staggered towards his brother. Whumpee’s head moved back and forth and his hands that were covered in bandages twitched.

“Hey, I’m here,” Caretaker soothed.

But Whumpee’s head moved more frantically and his hands flew to his face. “I can’t breathe,” he croaked, pulling at the oxygen mask, but still asleep.

“No, this helps you breathe,” his brother said softly, gently trying to take Whumpee’s hands from the mask.

But Whumpee’s hands went back to his face and scrabbled at the plastic surface. His breathing became shallower, more desperate. “Please,” Whumpee gasped.

Caretaker looked down at his brother, he himself now desperate. “Nurse!” he called out into the hall.

He looked back at Whumpee, his plasters on his fingers unwrapping as he continued to struggle against the plastic oxygen mask. Wounds that had never had the chance to heal before reopened easily, and so blood began to cover his brother’s face and sheets as he thrashed around.

“God,” said Caretaker, his hands trembling above his brother’s writhing body. “Nurse!” he yelled even louder.

Whumpee pushed the mask up and off his mouth, but still, he was fighting and screaming.

“Please, Whumper!” he cried out into the hospital room, lit only by eerie electronic light. 

One of the nurses rushed in and past Caretaker.

“Stand back sir,” the nurse said, forcefully pushing Whumpee’s arms back down beside him.

“No… no…” moaned Whumpee, his head turning from side to side. 

Caretaker watched as another nurse joined the first who had a needle full of something. He pushed the mask back down onto Whumpee’s face and held his arm still.

“What are you giving him?” Caretaker asked, rushing to the second nurse’s side. 

The nurse looked at Caretaker, his brow furrowed. “Another sedative I’m afraid, so your brother can sleep dreamlessly. His brain is trying to process what happened.”

“…Well shouldn’t he?” Caretaker questioned as the nurse plunged the needle into Whumpee’s twitching arm.

“It’s too much all at once for him,” the nurse explained as he pressed the sedative into Whumpee’s bloodstream. “Whatever happened to him, will take years to fully process.”

Caretaker let out a sob and walked back from the bed, his brother’s protests slipping away as he fell into deeper sleep.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Caretaker whispered as he stared at his broken and bloodied brother.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Drugged

Content Warnings: Gaslighting, drugged, alcohol

“Do I look alright?” asked Whumpee, stumbling over to the couch and steading themself on the arm.

Whumper nodded, his eyes watching Whumpee’s hands and arms to keep tension. “You look fine to me.”

“I feel weird,” Whumpee muttered to themself.

“Here, have another drink,” said Whumper, holding out the third bottle of the night to Whumpee. “I’ll grab you something to eat, your sugar is probably low, that’s all.”

Whumpee took the bottle and flumped down onto the sofa, watching the ceiling dance as they sipped from it. Maybe they were just drunk, but they weren’t usually a lightweight.

As the ceiling continued to dance like the fireflies outside, Whumpee tried to think. Think anything. But their mind felt full of treacle, hard and slow effort to work their way through.

Whumper returned, chocolate bar in hand and broke off a square before sitting on the edge of the sofa next to Whumpee’s legs.

“There’s really not something right with me,” Whumpee mumbled as they took the square of chocolate from Whumper.

Whumper smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Handcuffs

Content Warnings: Restrained, noncon touch, kidnapping, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, possible future forced relationship implied

Whumpee pulled against the handcuffs a few times, but they just rattled against the radiator. Whumpee sighed, his ginger hair getting blown up out of his eyes. His captor had been gone for what felt like hours, but Whumpee knew it was probably nearer to just one, he got bored easily.

As if on cue, Whumpee heard the front door latch click and Whumper’s feet on the creaking wooden floor.

“Hi, miss me?” said Whumper with a pout.

Whumpee resisted exposing the smile that was trying to form on his lips and just looked down and forlornly nodded.

“Aw,” crooned Whumper, kneeling behind Whumpee like he was about to do his hair. “Already so lonely. Always at parties and clubs, yet no one noticed you missing.”

Whumpee swallowed. That insight had genuinely taken him by surprise. Whumpee’s phone sat on the table and hadn’t lit up once.

“Now, we are going to get to know each other,” began Whumper, his hand roughly massaging Whumpee’s neck. “…Very well. All our likes… and dislikes.”

“Like what?” whispered Whumpee, hoping that Whumper couldn’t see the way his lips were having to sit to prevent him from laughing. Whumper thought he was someone for kidnapping someone else. He was just as lonely as Whumpee was.

“I like your fiery hair, your fresh skin. And I would like to hear you scream,” uttered Whumper, his hot breath tickling Whumpee’s ear.

Whumpee waited three beats and then let out a shrill scream.

Whumper leapt up, clutching his ears. He paced back and forth, waiting for Whumpee to stop.

Whumpee grinned, seeing Whumper’s face full of shock out the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to shriek again.

“Not like that!” yelled Whumper, rushing over and clamping his hand over Whumpee’s mouth.

Whumper held Whumpee’s head tight for a few moments, Whumpee making his eyes return to the doleful ones he knew Whumper would like.

Whumper gingerly took his hand away.

“A little louder?” offered Whumpee.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

whumpee is a little shit and i love him

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Conditioned

Content Warnings: Contitioning, blade, blood, death

Continued from May 22nd’s prompt

“Do you need a break?” hummed Whumpee’s boss, wiping a knife on his jacket sleeve.

Whumpee’s raw fingers clattered over the keys of the keyboard, trying to keep up with what Whumper had said.
“No, sir, I don’t want to be the cog that fails,” he said, his voice monotone and flat despite the important smile on his lips. He didn’t look up, just carried on typing, willing his brain to remember what his boss dictated.

Whumper nodded. “What happens to the cogs that fail?”

“They are discarded and melted down, sir.” Whumpee’s eyes only flicked up from the computer screen as his colleague’s body thudded on the ground. A slight smile that his boss insisted on still there on the dead man’s lips. As it should be, Whumpee thought, his own smile securely on his.

“I knew I was right to hire you, Whumpee.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

Capitalism™ is the biggest whumper of them all

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Sobbing, Rock

Content Warnings: Non-human whump, robot whump, injury, violence, blood, death

“By my calculations, this is the best course of action,” said L-F3, their knee joints squeaking as they arranged themselves on the damp muddy ground.

Whumpee looked down at L-F3, choking back tears as he shook his head.

“I do not want Whumper finding you after the many trials we have endured,” L-F3 persuaded, their dim yellow eyes glinting in the dull light.

“That’s why I-” Whumpee clutched his chest and slipped onto the ground, kneeling with his head hung. “I can’t do this.”

“You must.”

“We can… just part ways, and I go somewhere we didn’t plan.” Whumpee didn’t want to say even that, but it was better than the alternative.

“If I am taken intact, he will use my brain to analyse where you may be. I know your patterns.”

Whumpee gave L-F3 a watery smile. “You know me just that well.”

“I do. Which is why you must damage my brain. Physically, so there are no ghosts of memories.”

“But you must also know-”

L-F3 lifted their head and took a heavy rock from beside them and placed it in Whumpee’s hand. “I know. I am sorry.”

“No, no,” Whumpee began to sob. “How can you expect me to do this if you know?”

L-F3 didn’t respond, instead, they just laid back down, waiting.

“I will go, and then-”

Still flat on the ground, L-F3 grabbed Whumpee’s arm. “I cannot allow you to do that.”

“…Let go,” sniffed Whumpee, surprised by the strength of L-F3’s grip.

“No.” Their grip tightened. “You must render my brain unusable.”

“It hurts, L-F3,” Whumpee said, his voice cracking.

“Please,” said L-F3, their fingers pressing down hard into Whumpee’s already bruised and scarred skin.

“Just let go!” begged Whumpee, desperately trying to pull away from L-F3.

“I am afraid you will have to make me,” stated L-F3, their luminous eyes flickering for a second.

Whumpee tipped his head back, panting with the pain. The tears ran down into his mouth, tasting bitter.

As L-F3’s fingers began to break Whumpee’s skin, their eyes flickered more, scanning back and forth over Whumpee’s face.

Whumpee’s hand began to curl around the rock, and he gritted his teeth as the pain, though small, somehow felt worse than anything Whumper had ever done.

Blood dribbled along L-F3’s fingers and Whumpee raised the rock above L-F3.

“Why?” gasped Whumpee, his arm shuddering in resistance as his brain screamed for freedom.

But L-F3’s finger’s only dug in further, scratching at Whumpee’s muscle.

Whumpee screamed and thumped the rock down onto L-F3’s head. 

Their eyes popped with light before the light dimmed again. 

“Why?” yelled Whumpee as he sobbed, tears soaking his shirt and dripping with a metallic ping onto L-F3.

L-F3’s eyes scanned over Whumpee’s face again, trying to form words. “I-I-I-” But all they could do was hold Whumpee tighter, deeper.

Whumpee screamed with the pain and again brought the rock down onto L-F3’s head. 

Their eyes popped and this time fizzled, only the lower half of one of their eyes staying lit.

“Why?” cried Whumpee again, as they brought down the rock once more.

“Be-Because I-I- lo-” said L-F3 through garbled and wrecked speakers. But the third impact of the rock stopped them from saying any more.

Circuitry and wires spilt and hung from L-F3’s head, sparking as water from the marshy ground swallowed them, along with everything else that made L-F3 alive.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

Ah, forcing the one you love to hurt and kill you because you love them :)

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Office, Laughter

Content Warnings: This isn’t really whump; just some sense of unease, dubcon touch

“Right you go there… and you can stand just there…” directed Whumpee’s boss. Whumpee had only been working here for a couple of weeks but he already knew his boss was a good one.

Even now, directing the office where to stand in the photograph he smiled and chatted with everyone. Not an angry word, despite the hectic day.

“Come on, Whumpee, get in,” said Whumpee’s boss, waving him over.

Whumpee slipped beside his boss. “Next to you, are you sure, sir?” he mumbled.

His smile widening, the boss slapped and gripped Whumpee’s shoulder, making him wobble a little. Whumpee’s boss continued to smile as his thumb stroked Whumpee’s neck.

Whumpee felt the urge to pull away. Maybe he even tried for a second. Time would blur that memory. But Whumpee knew he let the boss continue his grip.

“Next to me? Oh yes, I’m very sure,” his boss laughed as he turned to look into the camera.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Winter

Content Warnings: Torture implied, captivity implied, death, blood, hunted by whumper implied

“Are you cold?” asked A, already slipping off their heavy woollen coat.

B just nodded, her lips bound by the cold that whipped around them both.

A carefully arranged the coat on B’s shoulders before cupping her face with their hands. They were slowly cooling but still had some precious warmth, and A smiled, happy to give their girlfriend a part of them.

B closed her eyes, leaning into A’s hands and tried to forget where they were, lost on the moors.

Gradually the chilly bite of the wind hit her cheeks again and her eyes flickered open. Dense fog surrounded B, and A was nowhere to be seen.

B tried to call out for A, but her mouth was so unaccustomed to speaking now, from both the cold and what had been allowed. So her yell came out as a croak, garbled by months of silence and horror.

Gingerly, B began to move in the direction A and her were heading in, against the harsh wind.

“Are you there?” B managed after walking for a while and seeing nothing but empty shadows.

No answer.

B continued over browned heather and frosted grass. Her whole body felt like it was ceasing up, bit by bit. First her fingers, then her toes. Now her ankles and now her wrists as she tried to pull the coat closer and feel A’s love.

Head bowed, B followed a sheep’s track cut through the heather and scrub grass until red flowed onto the sepia scene. 

And there was A, their hands so so cold as blood flowed from their wrists and throat into the earth.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Camping

Content Warnings: Manipulative whumper, toxic friendship, controlling whumper, scalding, blood mentioned

Whumpee found a brook, a thin mossy stone-lined trickle of glittering coolness. Dipping the kettle in the water, Whumpee looked around, his eyes looking at the new green leaves on the beech trees and the buds on the oak. He breathed in the fresh air of spring, clean and without the taste of blood in the air. Birds called loud and passionately to one another, hopping about from branch to branch before flying off with a beak filled with moss or twigs. Whumpee sighed, wishing that camping would be a regular thing with Whumper. But he got bored of everything, well, everything but that taste of blood.

Whumpee walked back to the clearing where Whumper still sat, prodding at the fire with twigs.

“Didn’t find anything?” Whumpee asked, despite knowing Whumper hadn’t even attempted to look for supplies.

“No,” Whumper sneered. “It’s a shit forest.”

Whumpee shrugged and poured the water into an iron pot hanging over the fire. “I don’t know, I think I spotted some wild garlic near the brook.”

“Shoulda got some then,” said Whumper, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, probably should have,” Whumpee agreed. “Shall I go back?”

“Yeah.”

Whumpee sighed and trudged back to the brook and went up a little, nearer the crest of the hill where green leaves of wild garlic grew in abundance. He picked several leaves quickly, the strong smell making his tummy growl. It had been a day since he’d eaten and goodness knows how long it had been since Whumper had.

When Whumpee returned to camp and found Whumper sprawled out on the ground.

“Your water is boiling,” Whumper said, staring up into the sky.

“It’s gonna be pretty plain, I’m afraid, but it will be filling.”

Whumper sat up and grinned through the steam.

Whumpee ripped open the packet of pasta and narrowed his eyes, trying to judge how much to pour into the pan.

“Oh, give it here,” groaned Whumper, leaning over the fire.

The water hissed and burned as it hit Whumpee’s skin, soaking into his jeans. “Fuck!” yelled Whumpee, jumping back up and away from the campfire. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Whumper’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry, it was an accident.”

“Yeah right,” said Whumpee, hopping back to the tent and stripping off his jeans as he went.

“You aren’t going, are you?” whimpered Whumper, looking down at the floor.

Whumpee shot an angry glare back, but his face softened, tears actually seemed to be coming from Wumper’s eyes.

“I was thinking about-” Whumpee began.

“Please don’t leave me here!” Whumper blubbed, drawing his knees to his chest.

Whumpee shoved on a pair of shorts and walked back over to his crying friend, looking as he did back at school. Whumpee crouched beside Whumper and opened his arms, offering a hug.

Whumper flopped into Whumpee’s arms and nuzzled his head into Whumpee’s chest for a second. “We’re leaving together,” he muttered. “Camping is shit.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

thought i might try i different dynamic where the whumper is a bit more sneaky about hurting his whumpee so he can keep him around without need for restraints

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Passenger seat

Content Warnings: Conditioning, brainwashing/culty stuff implied, shouting, noncon touch, manhandling, bad caretaker/rescuer

A looked out of the window as the trees and bushes passed the car by in a blur. C was so far away now, and he didn’t know how he felt about that. 

B switched on the radio, just adverts right now, advertising things A didn’t know existed with the number of years he had been with C.

“Do you want to choose?” asked B. “Don’t suppose C ever gave you a choice in those sort of things.”

A turned to look at B, scowling. “Don’t talk about C like that.”

B curled his lip and shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean? C was a fucking bastard, look what she did to you!” B exclaimed, gesturing to the bruises that littered A’s grimy skin. B turned back to face the road and flexed his fingers on the steering wheel.

A sunk into his seat and crossed his arms. “Turnaroundthecar,” he muttered under his breath.

B tilted his head. “Huh?”

“I want to go back home,” A mumbled.

Slamming the brakes, both A and B jolted in their seats. “What did you just say?” B growled, narrowing his eyes.

“I want to go home, turn around the car,” grunted A, picking at the car roof.

B grabbed A’s wrist. “That hell hole is not your fucking home,” spat B. “And stop messing with my car.” He flung A’s hand back onto his lap.

A squirmed for a second before trying to open the car door. “I want C to take me back!”

B caught A’s t-shirt collar and dragged him back from the door. “You. Are. Not. Going. Back.”

A struggled and kicked at the dashboard. “I want C, I need C, I want to be back with C!” A sobbed. He practically vibrated with terror, anger and sadness, his tatty shoes bouncing off the glovebox.

“You don’t fucking need her!” B yelled, shaking A. “You have me!”

A froze and sank back down into his seat and B looked down, gently letting go of A’s clothes. He paused a moment, moving his jaw back and forth.

“I’m all you need, A, I promise,” whispered B, before starting the car once again, the radio still talking of things A didn’t know existed.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

This is very much out of the fire and into the frying pan, like its better but still going to be shit for whumpee

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Reading

Content Warnings: Conditioning implied, sleep deprevation implied, self harm

“And so Beowolf…”

Caretaker looked over their tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses to Whumpee, his eyes open and wide, still alert but looking nowhere in particular. Caretaker shifted in their armchair, their teeth running over their lip in thought.

“It’s getting late, Whumpee,” they said, closing the book they had been reading to him.

Whumpee’s gaze remained unbroken. “Please carry on,” he said, far away.

“You need sleep,” Caretaker explained, easing themself up from the old armchair and taking off their glasses. “You’ve done so well so far, learning not to clean all the time. And now you need rest.”

Whumpee’s head snapped to look at Caretaker. “No,” he whispered, his eyes passing beyond Caretaker.

Shaking their head, Caretaker continued to the bookshelf and placed the book between a book of Arthurian legend and The Hobbit. Their hand lingered in the air, their finger hovering over the spine. Caretaker sighed, their whole body moving with their lungs.

“Another then,” said Whumpee, desperation entering his voice.

“No, Whumpee,” insisted Caretaker, looking back at Whumpee on the edge of the bed. They shook their head and let their arm slip into their trouser pocket. There, their hand played with the house key. “You need sleep.”

“I don’t!” Whumpee suddenly yelled, his arms gripping the bed, shaking with sudden anger. His face was red and pained as he shook his head.

Surprised at Whumpee’s anger, Caretaker pressed the point of the key into their palm. The door was locked, locked like Whumper’s front door always was. Caretaker kept their lips pressed together so as not to let out a whimper of pain.

“You need sleep, Whumpee,” Caretaker repeated as they felt the key dig into their hand. Their hand didn’t move though.

“No, I don’t,” Whumpee whispered softly. “That’s laziness.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

Today in I read and watched too much dark academia recently…

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Garotte, Forced to watch, Carried

Content Warnings: Restrained, noncon touch, creepy whumper, death, blood, captivity

“Nnngh,” groaned Whumpee as she felt her body being turned. Her legs, on reflex, kicked out. But bedsheets as her body expected weren’t there, instead, her legs flew through empty air.

Whumpee groaned again, her eyes still closed as she tried to snuggle back into her bed. 

Someone chuckled lightly as she tried and Whumpee felt her bed come up around her, embracing her.

Whumpee blinked, her eyes flickering open for the sun to pierce into. She tried to raise her hand to shield her eyes as she adjusted but found it bound to the other. 

Looking around she realised she was not in bed, instead, she was up above the ground, arms below her. Whumpee looked up, and Whumpee saw the soft smile of Whumper as they carried her.

“No,” Whumpee whispered as all her senses focused in on reality. Cold stone surrounded them, passages and hallways. Whumpee knew where these went, the courtyard. The one slick with blood.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” murmured Whumper, looking down at Whumpee.

Whumpee struggled as the misplaced kind smile of Whumper shone down at her like the sunlight, her eyes pained just looking at the smile.

“W-what did I do?” stuttered Whumpee, twisting her body as Whumper’s arms grew tighter around her.

The pair were now in the courtyard, a crow fluttered off with viscera of some sort as Whumper’s shoes clopped on the flagstones.

“Hush now,” soothed Whumper, lowering Whumpee onto a chair beside another. “Whatever made you think did something wrong?”

“We are here!” Whumpee panicked, shaking on the chair.

“Ah, well, we are here,” smiled Whumper. “To view, not partake.”

Out of another passageway came a man, his bound feet being dragged along the stones, rubbing them raw and leaving a trail of blood as soldiers held him by the shoulders.

“Caretaker!” Whumpee screamed and she tried to leap up from the chair.

Whumper put out their arm, winding Whumpee and forcing her to hobble back to the seat.

Whumpee looked at Whumper, her eyes wide and her mouth moving but unable to plea like she wished.

Caretaker was dragged over to a chair blackened with blood. Despite his bleeding feet and weeks of less and less food, Caretaker still twisted and turned as the soldiers bound his legs and torso to the chair with thick leather straps. His hands however were cut loose just as one of the soldiers looped wire around his neck, twice and looked to Whumper.

Whumper gave the nod to the soldier as Caretaker attempted to pull the garotte off his neck. However, when he pulled on one of the lines, the other cut deep into his neck. Caretaker slowed his struggle, but struggled nonetheless as blood seeped from the cut.

Whumpee wriggled in her chair, her own hands still bound. “You said he could leave!” she screamed as tears that stung burned their way down her cheeks. “You promised!”

“He is leaving,” said Whumper, gesturing with their head to the scene before them.

The soldier continued to twist the wooden handles attached to the wire as Caretaker struggled and choked. His eyes looked to Whumpee and his hands dropped from his throat.

“It’s alright,” he rasped, tracing the outline of her face from the chair.

Caretaker’s hand dropped to his lap as his head also dropped, slumping forward as life shuddered from his body.

Whumpee couldn’t look at Caretaker’s lifeless body, still sitting bound to the chair. She squeezed her eyes closed, hoping she could go back to sleep and wake later to find this nightmare.

Suddenly there was a heavy thump on her legs and she opened her eyes. Whumper smiled at her and rubbed her knee, lovingly, as a parent would.

“That was a lot for you, I know. Let’s go back inside,” Whumper comforted, a sweet smile still on their lips.

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

Prompts used: Dialogue, Façade, Behind closed doors

Content Warnings: Abusive relationship, smashing objects, emotional whump

“Well, I said I’d be back for eleven to Kristie and it’s half ten, so I’ll be seeing you,” said Whumpee’s friend, slapping his knee and standing up.

Whumpee blinked and looked down at the floor, nodding slightly as his friend began to put on his coat.

“What’s wrong mate?” his friend asked, pausing putting his jacket on.

Smiling weakly, Whumpee shook his head and looked beyond his friend to the kitchen where his boyfriend was pouring a drink. He shuddered. Soon they would be alone together again, something most couples looked forward to. But not him. Whumpee crossed his arms, ashamed.

“You sure?” Whumpee’s friend asked, wriggling his arms into his jacket.

“Yeah, just wish we could all spend more time together, but… stuff,” Whumpee shrugged and continued to smile. His eyes though drifted back to his boyfriend, back turned while he inspected one of the glasses. Whumpee’s boyfriend raised up the glass and tilted it, shaking his head as he spotted something.

Shit.

Whumpee’s face betrayed this thought as his mouth wobbled and his brow furrowed.

Leaning in, Whumpee’s friend whispered, “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Whumpee mumbled. His shoulders relaxed a little; his friend saw it too.

But Whumpee’s friend just chuckled and clapped him on his muscular arm. “Moving in with someone is quite nerve-racking, but you’re gonna do just fine.”

His friend hadn’t seen his boyfriend’s small looks, after all, just his own worried ones.

“Bye then, see you soon!” Whumpee’s friend called loudly so Whumpee’s boyfriend could hear.

“It was great to meet you!” Whumpee’s boyfriend called back, his voice bubbly and cheerful.

Whumpee’s friend gave a nod to Whumpee and then opened the door and left. Leaving Whumpee alone with his boyfriend.

For a few moments, there was no noise but the clock ticking, but this only added to the slow crawl of sweat down Whumpee’s back. He stood by the door, waiting, knowing.

Then it came.

“Babe, come here a second.”

Whumpee practically sprinted to the kitchen, his tall large body making the flat’s floor shudder a little. He winced, knowing that would also be a fault.

“What is this?” his boyfriend asked, clasping the glass in his hand by its bottom, his five fingers holding it like claws hold jewels in rings. The glass shimmered like it was new from its box.

“I…” Whumpee moved closer, trying to see what he had done wrong.

His boyfriend looked up at him, eyebrow raised, annoyed that Whumpee couldn’t see it straight away.

“You scratched it,” he pointed. “Here.”

The line was so fine and so short that Whumpee blinked, his eyes struggling to see the mark. “I…” Whumpee repeated, unsure of what to say.

The glass crashed at Whumpee’s feet, leaving only shimmering drops of light. Whumpee gulped back a sob.

“YOU will buy another. Once something is imperfect or damaged…” his boyfriend whispered, going on tiptoes to reach Whumpee’s ear. “You can either mend it or break it. And breaking it…”
The glass scrunched under Whumper’s shoe. ”…Is so much more fun.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​@painsandconfusion​

this is my first drabble edited using peoples advice i really hope my editing efforts have come through
its hard for me to realise where ive gone wrong in bits that arent the examples people have shown instead i just get a feeling of something is wrong so i need to get my brain honed in on the exact problem which is going to take a bit of practice
but i did realise there was fifteen wases in this so thank you @leyswhumpdump​ for pointing out i do that a lot

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

“Do You Need A Break?”

The Merry Whump of May - Day 24

[Car Battery | Restraints | Conditioned]
(tw:pet whump, conditioning, electrocution, dehumanization)

Whumpee choked on air, slumping against the ropes as the electricity mercifully zipped into the floor, leaving spasming and trembling muscles in peace if only for a moment. They let out a racked, hoarse sob - blood dripping from their mouth; they didn’t even know how it got there. All they knew was the fire and the electricity and the whitehot blindness that contorted their limbs and sent their mind spinning. 

Whumper laughed lightly, setting down the jumper cables. “What? Do you need a break?”

Whumpee drew in several short, shaky breaths, forcing up the words they loathed. “G-good pets d-d-don-t ask f-f-for br-eaks-s-s-”

Whumper smiled, brushing a thumb over their cheek. “Verygood.”

They turned back to the car battery.

.

[The Merry Whump of May Masterlist]
Shoutout to @themerrywhumpofmay for putting on this event!

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @jadeocean46910 @villainsvictim @thecitythatdoesntsleep @heathenwhump @cryptidhongo @rainbows-and-whumperflies @cursedscribbles @whumpy-catfish @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @whumpsday @wingedwhump @ha-ha-one @morning-star-whump @pickywhumpreader)

Lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

“Get In”

The Merry Whump of May - Day 22
AND Phobia Whumper - Claustrophobe Part 1

[Office | Box | Laughter]
(tw: claustrophobia trigger, threat, blood mention, manhandling)

Whumpee’s feet fumbled and slid across the carpet as they scrambled to keep up with Whumper. Fingers bruised deep into their arm, wrenching their shoulder forward as they were dragged upstairs to the office.

Whumpee stumbled forward, tripping over the rug as Whumper shoved them into the room. They clattered to a halt on top of the antique trunk Whumper used as a coffee table.

“Get in.”

Whumpee glanced around the room. “Ge-….what?”

“Getin.” Whumper nodded to the trunk behind them.

Whumpee twisted to stare at it. It was- it was barely bigger than them! Whumper couldn’t be serious. “Wh-why?”

“Because you’re going to be bleeding a whole lot less if you get in yourself instead of making me put you there.”

Not the question.

Whumpee swallowed with some difficulty, but managed to turn on their knees, picking at the cool metal hatch pin until it came up. They stared over their shoulder. “Please - a-at least tell me what I did.”

Whumper snorted out a mirthless laugh. “You’re doing it right now. Does that give you a hint?”

Whumpee’s eyes twitched away, heat rising to their face, they started at the small dark corner of the box. Their legs and fingers were trembling. 

No,all of them was trembling. The tremor wound from their lungs down through every horrified cell of their body, scratching at their mind and screaming at them to stop.

Slowly - so slowly - they lowered themself inside.

.

(To be continued with the rest of the claustrophobe scene…)

[Phobia Whumper Masterlist]
[The Merry Whump of May Masterlist]
Shoutout to @themerrywhumpofmay for putting on this event!

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @jadeocean46910 @villainsvictim @thecitythatdoesntsleep @heathenwhump @cryptidhongo @rainbows-and-whumperflies @cursedscribbles @whumpy-catfish @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @whumpsday @wingedwhump @ha-ha-one @morning-star-whump @pickywhumpreader)

Lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

“Are You Cold?”

The Merry Whump of May - Day 21

[Burning | Faked Love | Winter]
(tw: hypothermia(maybe), burn, manhandling, threat)

“Are you cold? I can move you a little closer to the fire.”

Whumpee shook their head minutely, tense and unsure. They pressed back against Whumper’s body.

“Aw come on, you’re still cold. I can feel it.” Whumper’s breath was hot against their ear. “It’s deep in your bones already, don’t you want it to just…melt away?”

Whumpee shook their head harder. Too close. Too fucking close already. 

They could feel the heat drying out their skin, burn flirting with the crease of their toes as they tried to squirm back away.

“Don’t be so ungrateful, I’m only doing this because I love you. Or would you rather go back outside?”

“N-no - no please, just. I’m okay now, thank you - this is close enough-” Whumpee yelped as Whumper gave them a final shove, stumbling forward toward the hearth. They screamed as their foot landed on the stone - toes brushing red-hot coals.

They flew back immediately, crumpling into Whumper’s arms.

“See, it’s like I always tell you. If you don’t listen, you get hurt.”

.

[The Merry Whump of May Masterlist]
Shoutout to @themerrywhumpofmay for putting on this event!

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @jadeocean46910 @villainsvictim @thecitythatdoesntsleep @heathenwhump @cryptidhongo @rainbows-and-whumperflies @cursedscribbles @whumpy-catfish @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @whumpsday @wingedwhump @ha-ha-one @morning-star-whump @pickywhumpreader)

Lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!