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maybeitsalivescribbles · 2 months

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VH - Divide And Conquer

(Tw: attempted torture)

“I can't believe we finally have caught the legendary Vampire Hero”, said Villain.

The two Heroes glanced at each other and shrugged. The taller one frowned.

“Legendary ?” he repeated.

Villain looked at him with interest.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Many have fallen before your might, Vampire Hero. At least two or three of my opponents are behind the bars because of you.”

“Two or three and you call that legendary ? You're easy to impress.”

The other Hero was nervously following the exchange. Compared to his companion, he seemed much younger and frailer. His eyes were shinier and shinier with tears that did not quite fall. When at least it looked like he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped between the two, saying:

“Stop ! It's my fault ! It's all my fault if we got caught. Hurt me, not him!”

Villain gave the young Hero an amused look:

“Why is that little thing with you, Vampire Hero ?”

His interlocutor shrugged:

“You know. He's new. I'm supposed to show him the ropes or something. You have to teach them some way or some other. ”

“Is that so.”

Villain lift the smaller Hero's chin with a finger:

“My dear little one, how can I hurt him ? Many have tried and many have failed. I'll just make him have a nice little sunbath so he's neutralized. But since you've asked so nicely, I will take care of you.”

“Surely there must be another way ! I'm sure you can do better. I-I'm sure that deep inside, you're a little pure of heart.”

“ You heard your protector, you need to learn.”

He grabbed Hero by the arm, who turned his head toward the man who accompanied him. The latter just shrugged.

“Do you think he cares ?” simpered Villain to his ear. “Oh, he doesn't. He might be on your side, but Vampire Hero is evil. You're better off with me.”

Hero whimpered but didn't resist as he was dragged into the stairs.

“There are seventeen steps. Do you hear the sound they make ? There's an echo, so the prisoners down there can hear me coming. It’s all in the anticipation.”

In a sweet voice, he kept describing their surroundings while they were both descending into his torture room. During all the way, the small one didn’t dare fight back. He soon found himself tied up to a chair, helplessly squirming, his eyes giving a pleading look more than ever.

“So, young Hero,” purred Villain, “as it is your first time, I will make you a favor.”

“R-Really ?”

“Yes. Do you see all these instruments in the shelf in front of you ?”

Hero looked at the whips, the canes and the nails, and shuddered so violently it almost looked fake.

“I'm going to let you choose one among them. If not, I will choose, and you won't like it very much if I do.”

“You don't have to do this ! I-You just will make Vampire Hero angry and you don't want to !”

“You think he will rescue you?”

“I know he will.”

“How touching. But for now you're mine. So make your choice, before I get impatient.”

Hero pondered for a few seconds, then whispered:

“Um – the taser ? Yes – the taser, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.”

Villain delicately took the black rectangular shape in his hand and switched it on.

“Why, if I might ask ? Do you think it will hurt less than the others ? Let me prove you wrong.”

The half-hour that happened then looked much more pleasant for Villain than for Hero. And yet, as time passed, Villain felt somewhat uneasy. That had nothing to do with torturing a man, of course. He liked the thrashing, he liked the begging, he liked the naive faith of the innocent who was certain that he could be saved. Maybe that had something to do with the other Hero. While Villain was amusing himself, Vampire Hero was out of his sight. He might have been careless. He glanced at his watch, but Hero making a rather unconvincing whimper forced him to turn his head.

Perhaps that was the problem. Villain was used to the sounds of pain – the gasps, the moans, the howls, the cries and the pleas. He loved all of them without distinction, and of course he knew that they were a little different with each person. It was a familiar melody that Hero was singing, but thinking about it, it was slightly out of tune, and it got progressively worse. It was getting on his nerves. These rookies these days – they didn't even now how to scream right.

“Let's have a break,” he said.

“Oh well, I guess I’ve held that long.”

Villain raised an eyebrow, amused:

“Getting defiant, are we ? Careful, you sound like you’re disappointed.”

He stared into his prisoner’s eyes, hoping to get a look of terror, but all he got was a frown. Hero...genuinely looked displeased.

“Sorta”, he said. “In my time I didn’t have this kind of toys to play with. I guess having a little blue spark in your hand looks fun, but that doesn’t look like it does that much damage.”

“In your time ? What are you talking ab- wait.”

Hero tilted his head. For a moment he sounded impassible, but he broke soon enough. A loud, loud laugh resonated in the room, while the prisoner was squirming in his chair for a very different reason than before. His way of moving betrayed no pain at all.

“Are you shitting me,” said Villain, whose voice was now icy.

Hero grinned:

“You tell me, pal. I can’t believe you swallowed my “pure of heart” bullshit. I was laying it on so thick.”

Villain glared at him.

“Not that you were especially subtle either”, Hero added. “Oooh, the anticipation !” Do that again?”

Villain stood up and went to the door as fast as self-respect allowed. There was no one left under the sunlight. The guards were on the ground, unconscious.

“How -”

He turned back. Hero was now standing up, neglectfully throwing away the remnants of the straps that held him a moment before. He dramatically exclaimed, a hand on his heart:

“Oh no, he got away ! My, my. Poor little me. Tell you what, though. If Vampire Hero were so legendary, you should have bothered to know what he looks like. I didn’t mean to pass for someone else, but you’ve so graciously given me the opportunity.”

“It can’t be ! How could the – the other have escaped then ?”

“I hate to break it to you, but they are several heroes with super strength.”

Villain blushed and stayed quiet, his lips pursed. Hero picked up the taser, looked at it with curiosity, and switched it on. With a smile – a very worrying smile - he got closer.

“Hey, I warned you. I told you that Vampire Hero was going to rescue me.”

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

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whumpcereal · 2 years

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the road to hell, part one

@darkthingshappen and I have joined incredibly dark and twisty forces to bring you this @the-whumpers-soiree entry, featuring our delightful whumpers Alexsei Volkov (from Tay's Brother's Keeper) and Ivan Peters (from my Behavior Modification), and our brand new co-created whumpee, sweet Jesse (with a quick but special guest appearance by @quietly-by-myself's Faolan). This is part one of two--and part two gets extra spicy, so buckle up. We might be persuaded to write more if people like it.

content warnings for part one: adult language, creepy/intimate whumpers, forced drugging, manhandling, kidnapping, and the suggestion of and prelude to (but not yet explicit) noncon

part one:

Jesse smiled as he watched Landon play to the crowd. Landon bounced back on stage for his encore and the place, as always, went nuts. It was a big gig tonight, one of those large outdoor amphitheaters with enough space to really pack them in–and Landon always packed them in.

Jesse shook his head fondly. This was what Landon always wanted. To be a star. And he was made for it. Everyone loved him–and Jesse loved being along for the ride. It was fun. He had no desire to be on stage, but getting to travel had always been his dream, so being in Landon’s orbit worked well for him.

Jesse had always been Landon’s number two. Even when they were kids, and Landon was holding court on the playground, Jesse was right there with him. Everyone knew that wherever Landon was, Jesse would be too. He never minded coming second. Landon might have lapped up the attention and applause; Jesse liked watching. He liked to see things, and maybe to know he’d help make them happen. Landon was more of a doer. They balanced out well.

“Thank you, Austin!” Landon flashed the crowd a grin and shouldered his guitar. “You’ve been great! We love you, and we can’t wait to see you again soon!”

The crowd roared in response, and Landon bowed, shaking sweat from his blond curls as he came back up. The air was electric. This is what he was meant to do.

And Jesse? He was happy to be there when Landon ran back into the wings.

“That was fucking awesome, dude!” Jesse grabbed Landon’s guitar and clapped his friend on back. “As always.”

Landon shrugged, spreading his arms so that a few of the PA’s could take care of his mic and monitors. He smiled again. “Well, you know. I try.”

“You don’t have to,” Jesse said.

He shepherded Landon toward the green room, flipping through his clipboard.

“Oh, hey, this came by post for you while you were performing. It looks fancy. Some kind of invite, I think.” Jesse handed a thick, square envelope to Landon and went back to the agenda. “The tour’s over the day after tomorrow. Just the Dallas concert left to play, then it’s back home to sunny Tacoma.”

They both giggled at the thought of ‘sunny’ Tacoma, Washington, the sky only came in shades of gray.

Landon nodded, tearing into the envelope with curiosity on his face. “Huh. Yup, it’s another party invite. But this one looks super fancy.” He read through it, scrutinizing the date and time. “Damn. I’ve already got plans that night.” He looks at Jesse. “Hey… the tour’s over the day after tomorrow.”

“And…? You said that already.” Jesse thought maybe the busy tour schedule was starting to get to Landon. “Do you need to lie down? You feeling okay?” He moved his hand to Landon’s still sweaty forehead.

Landon laughed and swatted him away. “No, goofball. You should go to this party. You’d love it. It’s in a city you’ve never been to. And I know how much you love to explore new places.”

“I don’t know.” Jesse frowned. “We’ve been so busy lately with this tour, and then the potential tour in Europe? I mean, everyone wants a piece of you. They’re not angling to have your assistant show up at their event.”

“Nope! I’m insisting. Consider this your reward for a job well done. And for being my best friend for all these years.” Landon elbowed him. “Come on. I’ll even take you shopping. I know I don’t pay you near enough.”

“You know it’s never been about the money.”

And it hadn’t. Jesse had been just as happy when he was moving all of Landon’s equipment from shitty club to shitty club all by himself. He knew that Landon needed him, that Landon trusted him, that he was part of what kept Landon grounded.

“Still, let me treat you,” Landon insisted. “I’ll pay for everything. Even a nice hotel room.”

Jesse cocked his head to the side and snatched the invitation from Landon, looking at the embossed calligraphy.

“I have always wanted to go to that city,” Jesse wheedled.

“Okay then! It’s done.”

“Okay.”

Jesse smiled. This should be fun. What was wrong with a little adventure, right?

*!*!*!*!*

A month later, Jesse found himself in a painfully hip hotel lobby, nervously shifting in his new leather shoes. Landon had really gone all out; not only had he made sure Jesse was decked out in style– charcoal Prada suit, fresh shave and haircut by Landon’s personal stylist, and brand new Ferragamo wingtips–he’d even gotten Jesse from point A to point B in first class.

“I don’t have a private jet–yet,” Landon had teased.

Jesse felt a little out of place, but part of him was thrumming with excitement. This felt exclusive. The door man even had an earpiece, like he was in the fucking CIA or something.

Yeah, Landon was going places–and so, it seemed, was Jesse.

The black-suited attendant took Jesse’s invitation and raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, Mr. Shaw. I’ve heard so much about you. I know our hosts will be pleased you’ve made it.”

Jesse laughed nervously. “I’m afraid I’m Mr. Shaw’s assistant. Jesse Barrow. A little reward for a job well done. Hope that’s okay.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to make do with you, Mr. Barrow,” said the attendant with a smile.

Something about the man’s expression unsettled Jesse’s stomach, but maybe it was just the event’s caché - this was way nicer than he was used to.

The attendant turned for a moment to the valet stand and produced a glowing blue bracelet.

“Now, this will get you everything you need. Food, drinks, you know. This is a very exclusive event, so we need to be able to verify on sight that all attendees have indeed been–invited.”

“Sure.” Jesse watched as the bracelet was fastened, tight, around his wrist. There was another twitch in his stomach. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Wonderful. Now, if you’ll just proceed to the elevator, the operator will take you to the penthouse.” The attendant smiled again, and he extended his arm to point the way. “I do hope you’ll enjoy yourself, Mr. Barrow. I have a feeling tonight will be one that you’ll never forget.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jesse went to the elevator, where another suited attendant was waiting. Jesse showed him the bracelet. “Um, penthouse, please?”

The man nodded and pressed a button, and the steel doors slipped shut. When they opened again, Jesse’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

He’d been to plenty of parties with Landon, but never one like this. Since Landon had started gaining traction, it was expected that he bring camera-ready plus-ones with him to events, so Jesse had missed out on most of the catered affairs. Not that he minded, but damn–this was nice.

“Penthouse, sir,” said the attendant.

Jesse resisted the urge to whistle. “I guess so.”

The lights were low, blue and amber, and trays of hors d’oeuvres floated around the bar and leather chairs. The room vibrated with the soft titter of conversation, and from what Jesse could tell, everyone was well-dressed and very good-looking.

Shit, Landon had really made it, hadn’t he? Jesse was grateful for the suit that Landon had bought him. He wasn’t sure he’d blend in, but at least he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb either.

“Thanks,” Jesse said breathlessly.

He stepped out and headed straight for the bar. There was no way he could do this without a little liquid courage.

“Hi.” He nodded at the bartender. What did people drink at parties like these? ”Uh, vodka–vodka tonic, please?”

That was fancy, right? He dug into his pocket for his ID–he’d only been 21 for a few months, after all–but the bartender seemed nonplussed.

“Lime, sir?”

“Sure.”

“Right away, sir.”

Okay, Jesse could definitely get used to this.

*!*!*!*!*

Alexsei Volkov and Ivan Peters sat in a darkened corner, chatting with Finlay Iver. They watched the new arrivals as they stepped off the elevator or got drinks at the bar. Plenty of lovely toys from which to choose. And the men had the perfect seats–no one would have really noticed them unless you already knew they were there.

Ding! The elevator door opened and let out a slight man, who inspired a wolfish grin from Finlay on sight.

“If you two talented gentlemen will excuse me, my prey has just arrived. I can't leave my little Faolan waiting. Happy hunting.” He raised his glass and toasted their good fortune, then walked towards the bar.

“He seemed nice. A bit too focused for my tastes, though. I like to hunt, not shoot for fish in a barrel,” Alexsei commented as he scanned the room for potential toys to break.

Ivan took a thoughtful sip of his Manhattan. “Well, I do think a–singular focus can provide unique opportunities to really get to know your–what did he call it?--prey.”

“Have you ever shared… prey, before?” Alexsei asked, testing the waters.

“I suppose that depends on what you mean. Do I collaborate? Not typically. But I did share my first boy’s broken pieces with the man who loved him before I ruined him. Return to sender, you might say.” Ivan smiled. “I hear the poor thing still misses me.”

“Mmmm. Well, I have gotten tired of some of my previous conquests and let my security team have them. That’s always fun to watch. They always think they can sink no lower, and then being discarded drops them just that much further. I’m usually ready to sell them by that point.” Volkov looked at Ivan. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you okay with the idea of selling people?”

“I suppose I might have said no a few years ago. But I work for WRU now. Are you familiar with them?”

“I've heard of the concept. You ship people in boxes, yes?”

“Yes. Like living dolls. I’m working on reshaping WRU’s training protocol, and I must say, the idea of having something I’ve made out in the world–I quite like it. So, yes, I’m comfortable with selling people.” Ivan chuckled to himself. “Though I suppose they’re barely people at that point.”

“That is a fascinating concept,” Volkov said archly. “But–back to sharing. What I mean is, have you ever… fucked a boy, or girl, at the same time as someone else?”

Ivan spread his legs just a bit wider. “I have not. But I can’t say that I haven’t thought about it.”

“Hmm. I am the same. And the reason I bring it up is because tonight seems the perfect opportunity to give it a go. Given our conversation with Finlay, I’d wager you’re about as sadistic as me, and I think we could find some new and devious ways to enjoy ourselves. What say you?”

“No time like the present, right? What do you go for?”

“I’m up for anything, but currently, my tastes are running to young dark haired men. You?”

“Ha! What a coincidence. Turns out we have that in common as well.” Ivan looked about. “Do you see anything we might like?”

“There are a lot of very fine choices.” Volkov’s eyes wandered over to the bar. He saw Finlay dragging his choice toward the back elevator that so many had already discreetly used. “The night is early, but I think we can find someone suitable for our tastes.”

He eyed a young man that had just ordered a second drink. Volklov had noticed him when he first came in and was surprised that, in the time he and Peters had been sitting here, no one had snapped the boy up.

“What about that dark haired lovely at the bar? He’s got beautiful eyes. They’d be gorgeous full of tears, don’t you agree, Ivan?”

Peters followed Volkov’s gaze, and his lips quirked into a smile. The boy was tall and lean, and sure enough, Ivan could see a pair of lovely bright green-blue eyes peeking out from beneath his dark brows. And he already looked a little bleary. Perfect.

“Oh, I certainly do. Especially when he’s looking up at you from his knees, don’t you think?”

“Presumably with his lips stretched around one of us?”

“Precisely. But if we’re sharing,” Ivan raised an eyebrow, “what would the other one be doing?”

“I would assume the other one would be buried in the other end, having a marvelous time. We can always take turns. It’s a long weekend. And I don’t have to be back to my lovely boy for a bit yet. He’s currently under the impression that he’s free. But I’ll be reacquiring him soon.”

“Well, then you’ll need something to keep you occupied in the meantime. I think this could work quite well. Quite well.”

“Indeed.” Volkov drained the last of his whiskey. “Shall we?”

“Oh, yes. Let’s.”

Ivan stood and crossed the room, sidling up to the young man Volkov had pointed out; Volkov followed, flanking the boy on the other side. They were both careful not to touch him–neither wanted to spook the poor thing, not yet–but they were close enough that they could feel his heat. The boy’s glass was almost empty.

“Hello there,” Ivan cooed.

The kid looked back at him, blue-green eyes a little unfocused. He was a child, probably barely old enough to drink–and certainly not old enough to know his limits. He would do nicely.

“Hey,” said the kid.

“Having a nice time?” Ivan asked.

“Shit, yeah. This is a great party. I’ve never been to a party with free drinks that didn’t come in Solo cups, you know?”

“What are you drinking there?”

The kid looked down at the glass like he couldn’t quite remember. “Vodka tonic, I think?”

“Two whiskeys and a vodka tonic–with a twist, if you please,” Volkov said from the boy’s other side, flashing his red arm band at the bartender.

“Wait, what’s with a twist?” the kid asked, eyes bobbling as he turned to look at the big Russian on his other side.

“Oh, you don’t mind, do you? I was just having drinks with my friend there when we decided to come over here to be closer to the bar. You’ll like the twist: it's a splash of grenadine syrup with a cherry on the bottom. Makes the vodka go down a bit easier. I used to order it like that all the time when I was around your age.”

Volkov winked at the younger man.

“I mean, I guess that does sound kind of good,” the kid mumbled.

“Oh, it is,” Ivan assured him. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

The kid took his pink-tinged drink from Volkov’s hand. “Jesse.”

“And what brings you here tonight, Jesse?”

Jesse took a sip of his drink, lips puckering as the ‘twist’ washed over his tongue. Ivan and Volkov met eyes over Jesse’s dark head and smiled.

“An accident, actually,” said Jesse. He took another sip. “Hey, this isn’t so bad.”

“Be sure and drink all the way to the bottom. Then you get to eat the cherry. It was always my favorite part,” Volkov put in.

“Like a Shirley Temple, right?”

Ivan laughed. “Just like a Shirley Temple. But better.”

“Though I do wonder, should we have ordered a Shirley Temple for you? You have a bit of a baby face. Are you sure you’re old enough to even be here?” Volkov asked innocently.

“I’m 21,” Jesse said, the slightest defensive edge to his voice. “I mean, I can show you my ID if I need to. Is there, like, an age limit for this thing? I’m not even really supposed to be here, so–”

“You’re not?” Ivan let his eyes go wide in faux shock, and he slid just a bit closer, pressing Jesse between his hip and Volkov’s. “Why’s that? I thought this was an invite-only soirée.”

“My friend was the actual invitee, but he couldn’t come. So, he sent me instead. He’s a famous pop musician. He gets invited to these things all the time. He said it could be my reward for doing such a good job managing his tour. I mean, ‘M not ‘is manger… jus… jus ‘is assistan’” Jesse’s words started to slur and he took an unsteady look at his glass. “Fack, tha’s strong.”

“It’s only a little twist. And you haven’t even tasted the cherry, yet. Isn’t that right, Alexsei?”

“Absolutely. Like I said, my favorite part. I love cherries,” Volkov said with a smile. “You’re almost there, kid.”

The kid stared at the cherry in his glass. “I am?”

“You are, sweet boy,” Ivan murmured. He tapped at the base of Jesse’s glass, and the cherry trembled. “Drink up.”

Jesse tipped the glass sloppily to his lips. “An’ then I think ‘m done.”

He drank until the liquid was gone, but the cherry was still stuck past the level of the ice. The two older men watched with hungry eyes as Jesse stuck his tongue into the ice and moved it around, and around, and around until he was finally, messily, able to get the cherry. He licked his lips as he turned his overly bright eyes first to Volkov, and then to Ivan.

“All done?” Volkov asked. “You’re a bit damp.” He picked up a bar napkin and wiped the boy's pink tinged lips for him.

“An’ sticky,” Jesse put in helpfully. He pitched heavily toward the bar, and he let Ivan brace his elbow. “Actually, I–I don’ think ‘m feelin’ so good.”

“Oh, kitten, let’s get you cleaned up and somewhere safe to rest for a bit. I think you’ve overdone it on the vodka. It can sneak up on you. I’m Russian. I would know,” Volkov sagely stated, wrapping an arm around Jesse’s middle and helping him to stand.

“I–I jus’ need the bathroom,” Jesse slurred.

“Let us help you,” Ivan said. He steered Jesse’s elbow away from the bar; the boy was snared between the two of them now.

“I’m okay.” Jesse tried to wriggle from their grasp, but he tripped over his own feet. The bartender smothered a laugh behind them. “I jus’--oh, man. Shit.”

Volkov tightened his grip, not enough to cause pain, but enough to ensure that Jesse stayed upright. They continued to the elevator.

“Your place, or mine, Dr. Peters?” Volkov glanced over the boy’s head. “Since I’m only visiting your country, I only have a modest house. Do you have something more… accommodating for our plans?”

Jesse groaned between them. “I don’--no–I jus’ need–”

Ivan ignored him. “Funny you should ask–I’m visiting from out of town myself, and I booked a suite just downstairs. Large. Discreet.” He bent his nose to Jesse’s hair and inhaled; the boy shook his head, but his movements were becoming increasingly slow and uncoordinated. “Thick walls. If you catch my meaning.”

“Wha’?”

“Hush, kitten,” said Volkov. “That could work. But what if we want to continue our fun past this evening? I do have a jet available should we need it.”

The boy’s breath quickened between them.

“Well,” Ivan considered as they approached the elevator, “as I may have mentioned, I am adept at shipping and handling, as it were. This sweet little thing seems like he’d fold up real nice.” Jesse made a noise that could have been a whimper. His feet dragged, and Ivan took on more of his weight. “But I’m not sure I could pass up a chance to join the mile high club…”

“No,” Jesse slurred. “No, pleas’, I don’–”

Volkov shoved his thumb in between Jesse’s slack lips, pressing the boy’s tongue down until his words flattened into a rough moan.

“It is a very fun club to be a member of. Would you like to join me?” Volkov asked, pressing the button for the elevator with his free hand. “If so, I’ll need to make a call.”

“You have a car here? If you handle the call, I’ll make sure we get our precious cargo out of here without any issue.”

“Done.” Volkov pulled his phone out and pressed a button. Within seconds he was rattling off fast paced instructions in Russian. He ended the call and turned to Ivan. “Pilot says he’ll be ready when we arrive.”

The elevator doors opened, and Ivan brandished Jesse’s blue-banded wrist for the attendant to see. The man smiled and let them enter.

“What do you say, sweet boy? Want to go for a ride?”

Ivan dipped his head and nipped at Jesse’s throat as Volkov palmed the boy between the legs. Jesse’s blue-green eyes were hooded now, and no one waited for his answer.

tagging: our ever faithful @oddsconvert, whom I heard was excited about this collab. Let us know if you want in on part two! 😈😇

#the road to hell #alexsei volkov oc #the mary poppins of sadists #ivan peters oc #the sigmund freud of whump #jesse barrow oc #sweet cinnamon roll who just wanted a vacation #whump #whump writing #tw future noncon #bbu adjacent #the-whumpers-soiree

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