#tw beating
Betrayal pt 4
Continued from here
CW: Hanging from wrists, bruises, fever, infection, delirium, passing out, used as a punching bag
Whumpee whimpered as dozens of hands pushed them down and pulled at their arms. They felt ropes tighten around their wrists and, before they could truly register what was happening, they found themself hanging in the air, dangling by their wrists.
Strugglingat all intensified the strain on Whumpee’s shoulders tenfold. After only a moment of squirming, Whumpee gave up.
Someone struck Whumpee hard in the back, causing their already blurred vision to darken and spin as they swung from the rope. Even as they opened their mouth to speak, someone else struck them in the chest, knocking them breathless.
“—Why—?” Whumpee gasped as soon as they managed to get some air back in their lungs.
Laughter rang out around them and Whumpee struggled through the pain, trying to make their eyes focus on the people around them. Try as they might, the haze of pain and fever from infection made it impossible to distinguish the colors that swirled and bled together.
“Whumper treats us like shit.” One voice said.
“By the time we’re done, you’ll wish Whumper just killed you.” Came another voice, this one alarmingly close to Whumpee’s face.
“Don’t worry too much, though. No one ever makes it longer than a few days here.” Said someone else behind Whumpee.
Someone spun them.
—
Whumpee had no clue how long it had been. Hours? Days? Weeks?
A shaft of light cut through the dim interior of the room and Whumpee whimpered, fully anticipating another beating. Between their fever and swelling from a particularly bad black eye, they couldn’t tell who had entered the room.
After a long minute of silence, a wave of dizziness swept over Whumpee and they felt the room dropping away. Their feet touched the solid ground for the first time in a long time and, as the rope grew slack, their arms fell into their lap.
It took everything Whumpee had to stay on their knees and not fall over completely.
A cool hand cupped Whumpee’s cheek and a soft voice echoed in their ears. It sounded vaguely familiar. Whumpee couldn’t place it, nor could they understand the words the voice was saying.
The world tipped again and fell away as they were pulled gently sideways and against a body. Whumpee’s eyes fixated on the hazy features of someone peering down at them.
The person looked concerned, their lips moving in sync with the indistinguishable voice. Whumpee let their gaze drift over the entirety of the person’s face. As their eyes fell closed, they realized it was Caretaker.
A White Rose (Pt. 5)
(This series is created using the prompts from @summer-of-whump)
Continued from here
CW: Blood, funeral, broken nose, dehumanization, beating
Shea was at the funeral. Nicholas had ordered him not to cry— he said it would cause a scene— but Shea was having trouble obeying. At the reception after the burial, Nicholas pulled him aside.
“I see tear stains.” He remarked.
“I’m sorry, sir, please forgive me…” Shea dipped his head.
After a moment of silence, Nicholas said, “No.” He took Shea by the arm and pulled him into a side room. “Look at me.”
Shea was getting used to that command. Master Wilson had never allowed Shea to look him in the eye, but Nicholas seemed to find it disrespectful when Shea didn’t look him in the eye.
Nicholas punched Shea in the face, sending him stumbling backwards and onto the ground.
Tears of pain streaked down Shea’s cheeks and his vision clouded as he felt blood dripping from his nose. He didn’t try to get up.
“Hm.” Nicholas said. Shea could hear him walk closer. “I always wondered how it would feel to make you bleed.” He picked Shea up by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against a wall. Shea gave a sharp cry as one of his wings hit the wall at a wrong angle. “Do you want me to stop?”
Shea took a shaky breath. “S-sir, I wish for you to d-do what you see fit… I-I disobeyed an order. If this is my punishment, I won’t protest it.”
Nicholas scoffed. “You can’t stay strong forever. I’ll break you if it’s the last thing I do.”
Shea was confused by that. He wasn’t strong. He was weak. There was nothing to break— Shea knew he was as good as worthless— especially to Nicholas.
Just as Shea’s vision started to clear, Nicholas punched him again. This time, Shea felt his nose crack. He tasted blood as it poured down his face. Shea winced as he felt Nicholas pull his hair.
“Why is your hair so damn long?” Nicholas shoved Shea into the ground. “It’s like you’re asking for people to drag you around with it.”
Shea wheezed as Nicholas kicked him in the ribs and then pulled him back to his feet by his hair.
“Clean up. You’ve got blood everywhere. All over the floor, too. Rejoin me when your done.”
“Yes, sir.” Shea breathed, trying to catch his breath.
more defiant whumpee stuff since i know y’all thirsty for it
(tw: restraints, cursing, beating, heavy hand whump, blood, drugging mention)
~
Whumpee smirked up at the figure circling them. Even while they were bound by their wrists and ankles to a chair, with their torturer towering over them, they still felt like they were the one in control.
“Didn’t know you were into this, buddy,” they quipped. “Doesn’t seem like something you’d—”
A swift punch to the gut quieted them, and they choked out a laugh. “Haha…ow.”
Whumper snarled down at them. “You’d better take this seriously, freak. I need the passcode to that safe, and the location of it. And you don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to get it.”
Whumpee huffed out a laugh. “Aw. That’s really cute. First time doing this sort of thing, huh?”
“SHUT UP!” Whumper backhanded Whumpee, doing nothing to wipe the grin off their face, which frustrated them even more. They leaned forward to grab Whumpee by the throat.
“Shutup, or I’ll do far worse than just slap you around,” Whumper spat with a glare as they let go of their throat. Whumpee just shrugged, leaning back in the chair.
“Okay, let’s see it.” Their eyes trailed up to meet Whumper’s. “Your breath smells horrible by the way,” they added with a wink.
Whumper growled and mumbled something angrily under their breath before storming off to a chest in the corner of the room. Whumpee craned their head over, trying to see what was going on.
“Hey, what do you keep in there?” They called. “If you had any ibuprofen it’d be a godsend. My head’s killing me from listening to you!” They laughed to themselves. “And from, you know…the drugs you gave me earlier. Not nice, bud.”
Whumper returned with a hammer, dragging a small folding table with them. Whumpee winced at the screeching sound the table made when it was dragged across the floor. “Not helping the headache, asshole,” they said over the noise, rolling their eyes.
Whumper said nothing as they set the table up next to Whumpee, pulling one of their hands out of their restraints and flattening it against the table. Whumpee suppressed a giggle, not even trying to struggle.
“Here’s how this is going to work,” Whumper told them in a low voice. “You’ll tell me the location, then you’ll tell me the passcode. Each time you refuse, I break a finger with this.” They held up the hammer. “Got it?”
Whumpee glanced at their own hand, and at the hammer, and then up at Whumper. “Really?” They raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re going with?” They laughed, shrugging. “Okay. Whatever floats your boat, fucko.”
Whumper was fed up at that point. They stood back for a moment and slammed the hammer across the side of Whumpee’s head, earning a pained yelp from them.
“I’ve had enough of your stupid fucking backtalk!” Whumper snarled. “I don’t want to hear a word come out of your mouth unless it’s information about the safe!”
Whumpee groaned, dizzy from the impact of the blow. When they came back to their senses, their smile creeped back onto their face. They looked up at Whumper amiably. “Kay.”
Whumper grabbed Whumpee’s wrist and pushed their palm flat against the table, so their fingers would spread out. “Location,” they growled, raising the hammer slightly.
Whumpee never looked away from Whumper’s face. “You look so funny right now,” they said with a chuckle.
“LOCATION!” Whumper screamed, holding the hammer higher.
Whumpee’s smirk filled their whole face. “My asshole.”
CRUNCH
Whumpee’s scream rang through the small room as their pinkie finger was crushed by the hammer. Tears flowed freely as they clenched their eyes shut, their teeth grit together. Soon, though, after they blocked out the pain from their mind, their smirk returned. “That all you got?”
Whumper’s face contorted in anger. They raised the hammer again, which dripped with Whumpee’s blood.
“Location.”
“Your mom’s bed.”
CRUNCH.
“Passcode!”
“Nngh…6969.”
CRUNCH.
“WHERE IS IT?!”
“C-Check your…y-your asscrack, it might be—fuck—wedged in there…”
Whumper screamed out in frustration, beating away at Whumpee’s hand as the latter screamed their throat raw. When they were done, their hand was a bloody mess.
In their frustration, Whumper threw the hammer across the room and stormed out, slamming and locking the door. Right before Whumpee lost consciousness from the pain, they smiled to themselves.
“…See ya tomorrow,” they rasped, finally falling into unconsciousness. The smile never left their face.
Holyyyyyy molyyyyyy
