#the whumperflies this gives me

[whump-side]

Now that I think of it, my blog being "whump-side" is a funny coincidence.

[heffawhump]

Okay but

A whumpee in too much pain to speak leaning heavily into someone holding them upright. Squeezing eyes shut as they reply to questions with a tight nod or shake of the head against their shoulder…

[whumpypepsigal]

Walker Independence s01e11: “Gus, for God's sakes, shoot him!”

[whump-kitty]

There's just something about the word remade being used in a whumpy way to me- like "I'm going to remake you" or "I remade you"...there's just something so amazingly permanent about it, something about how the whumper shows, with this, that the whumpee won't be the same ever again, no matter what they do and how much they heal, or whether or not they get rescued... that they'll always be defined by the pain they experience there, whether they like it or not

[just-here-for-the-whump]

The Middleman 1x10 The Vampiric Puppet Lamentation

[whumpanini]

"I should have known better than to come alone to a place like this," muttered Hero.

A laugh echoed from behind her as Villain circled slowly like a vulture. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Should I not be?" Hero retorts. "You've killed so many people on a whim, just to prove that you can."

Villain sneered. "Please, if I wanted to kill you I'd have done it already."

"So why haven't you?"

Villain stopped pacing, now standing directly in front of Hero, their eyes cast downwards before flicking over the hero before them.

After a long pause, filled only with Hero's labored breathing, Villain speaks. "Maybe I haven't made up my mind about you yet. You could still prove useful."

"So I'm still just a pawn to you then?"

He smiles, a twisted and cruel smirk plastered on his features. "Darling, everyone is just a pawn," he pauses. "Until they prove their potential."

[whumpty-dumpty]

Man, I love men in fetal positions.

[whumblr]

Catharsis

Happy holidays, folks! Here's some angst to make your days merry and bright.

@hold-back-on-the-comfort came with the awesome suggestion: but what if revenge whump. And I think that's beautiful.

Custody masterpost

-

Eric wouldn’t describe himself as a vengeful man. Live and let live, that was more his style. That didn't mean he had any qualms about killing, not at all. But driving a point home, after all, worked best with the person still alive. Well, alive up to a certain degree; be it after intense physical therapy to restore basic bodily functions, some scars that’d never fade, and heavy trauma, but alive nonetheless. It wasn’t revenge, just… consequences.

But the chance to get his favorite victim back in his claws had been too good to pass up. And show them the ‘consequences’ of their actions he would.

Initially, his target was Nat and Nat alone. But that pesky partner of theirs never seemed to let them out of his sight after everything that had happened. And so, Eric had to admit, having a bonus wasn’t too bad. Someone to go all out on, a punching bag that would snap back – at times – and someone to use against Nat. Even though he wouldn’t need the leverage, the despair that would follow would be marvelous.

He fondly looked upon his two captives, the difference between them overwhelming.

Jeff lay face-front on the floor, still fighting even though his hands were cuffed behind his back and Kyle pressed him down with a knee between his shoulders.

Nat however didn’t need to be cuffed. Nat was already shackled by their own fear.

They’d known. Just a split second before their vision had gone dark and the hood was forced over their head. They knew it was Eric and they knew they couldn’t do a thing.

Now Jeff, he’d fought. And fought. Until Eric himself had to step in and crushed him into a wall. There was no need to knock him out. All he had to do was keep him in place, whisper something in his ear and cock his head towards the kneeling, blinded Nat, to whom a gun was slowly being leveled to the back of their head. And Jeff too had crumbled to his knees with a whimper.

Easy.

“It’s so good to have you both here again,” Eric clapped his hands and beamed at the two. “After the events of last time, I believe we have some… unfinished business.” He turned to Nat, who just stood nailed to the ground and he said in a hushed voice: “After all, Nat, I don’t think you and I were quite finished yet.”

Nat let out a whimper and seemed to deflate a little. Eric reveled at that, he’d missed this. But the moment was tainted by—

“Don’t you touch them! Don’t you dare!” Jeff raged behind them.

Eric merely turned his head slightly towards him and without his eyes ever leaving Nat’s, he just said: “Gag him.”

While Nat’s horrified expression was a treat in itself, Eric couldn’t resist turning to Jeff to see him struggle against Kyle. He watched, with just a sly and calm smile, as Kyle forcefully spun the man over. Jeff of course refused to open his mouth now, but even teeth clenched as tight as a vice would part to let out a scream of pain. Kyle stuffed a piece of cloth into his mouth and quickly followed up, making use of the daze of pain to force his mouth shut with duct tape.

The pain and rage was reduced to nothing but guttural grunts and a first hint of despair glinted in Jeff’s eyes when his gaze shot back to Nat.

“Now, that’s better,” Eric crooned at the angry but softer grunts. “Now we can talk things out. Because Nat…” his eyes snapped to Nat and they stopped breathing. “You shot me,” he said in a horrible hushed and accusing whisper.

Nat backed up a step, lips trembling with fear and half-prattled pleas that never quite finished as they weren’t sure if they should beg or apologize.

Eric shushed them and stepped closer, standing right in front of them. He brought up a hand, just to see Nat flinch away, but slowly brought it up to his own chest, fingers disappearing under the blue lapel of his suit jacket and rested over his shoulder. “Right here,” he said, demanding eye contact. “I can still feel it.” He pressed lightly against the scar under his shirt. “Do you know how much that hurt, Nat?”

Then his hand reached behind his back, under his jacket. Nat’s eyes widened when they saw the gun pulled from his waistband and nearly buckled when he pressed it right against their shoulder. “Would you care to experience how it feels?”

He pulled the hammer back, soundwaves of the soft menacing click resonating right through Nat.

“No… no please,” they whispered.

“Or…” the gun pulled away and slowly he aimed at Jeff.

“No!” They snapped forward at that, brought to a stop by a hand to their chest.

“Maybe your accomplice should pay for your mistake.”

Nat was going out of their mind with fear, their whole body shaking like crazy. “P-pl-please, Eric, I—”

“Where are your manners, Nat?” Danger seeped into the voice as it dropped an octave.

Nat sobbed and swallowed hard. “Sir, please, I… Please, I’m sorry! I… I didn’t—"

“You didn’t mean to?” he said in that same calm voice but his lips turned up into a wicked grin. He pulled Nat closer with a deceptively gentle hand to the neck and whispered in their face: “I believe I taught you not to lie to me.”

Nat completely froze.

“Do you remember what happened last time? When I had to remind you not to lie to me?”

Their shoulder blades tensed, pressing together against the scars of last time and Nat swore they could feel that same deep pain cutting right through them again, swore they could hear the whip cracking in the back of their mind.

“Yes, sir,” they quickly whispered in an attempt to play by the rules.

“Do you? Need a reminder?”

“No… sir.” A single tear slid to their chin.

For some never-ending agonizing seconds, Eric just stared at them, considering. “No…” he echoed and Nat relaxed for a split-second until the next spoken words: “You’re right. Not yet. Can’t render you out of the game yet. We’ve only just started.” He placed the gun back against their shoulder, pressing hard. “But, you still have to apologize.”

That Nat could do. “Please, I'm sorry, I really am. I just—” they hiccupped, “I meant to say… that I didn’t—” their mind raced for an alternative, “I didn’t think, and I—”

Eric just looked at them expectantly, fond expression on his face as they prattled on and on.

“And—” Nat took a deep breath and their frantic rambling calmed down to something that they hoped would convince him. They looked up, right in those awful cold, grey eyes and said: “I am really sorry. Sir.”

A wrinkle of amusement softened his eyes. “Aw Nat. I believe you. Thank you,” he emphasized with a dramatic hand over his heart.

The gun pulled away and Nat just nodded, relief searing through them.

But the gun didn’t click back to safety yet. “Now what about him.”

Nat’s eyes followed the path of the gun as Eric re-aimed at the figure on the ground. “What?!”

“He owes me an apology as well. For stomping on my wound,” Eric said, matter-of-factly, and walked over to Jeff. He lightly turned him over onto his back, applying a little pressure to crush his bound hands against the hard floor. Then he raised the gun and aimed at Jeff’s shoulder. “So what do you say? When I remove that duct tape, can I expect an apology?”

Jeff glared up at him. He refused to look at Nat, who tried to signal to him to please just to do as he says; he knew he’d break if he looked into their eyes. Instead, he kept his attention on the threat. Then, very slowly, he lightly shook his head.

“Suit yourself.” Eric shrugged and without hesitating, he pulled the trigger.

The bullet ripped right through Jeff’s shoulder. His eyes bulged. His back arched. And his screams were stuck high up in his throat as he writhed on the floor.

Muffled though they were, agony and fear seared through his cries and Nat snapped forward in alarm. But Eric stopped them, merely holding out an arm to block their way, and shut them up with a withering side-glance before they could even finish the word ‘please’. Their knees couldn’t hold them anymore and they crumpled to the floor in despair, tears staining their cheeks as they could only watch how their friend twisted and coiled in pain.

Jeff’s suppressed cries died down to groans and he fought against the duct tape, taking desperate deep but shuddering breaths through his nose.

Eric stepped forward, shoe now resting on Jeff’s heaving chest, inching up and closer to the bullet wound.

“Last chance, now,” he teased.

He got all but a roar in reply. The words remained stuck in his throat, but the ferocity behind the muffled vowels could only mean one thing: it was an unmistakable ‘fuck you!’.

And so Eric replied by stomping hard right onto the bullet wound.

Blood splashed under his shoe and Nat had to look away. The howling sound tore through them, though, shaking them to their core. Eric just watched on in uncaring glee.

“Apologize, detective. Or I will fire another round into your partner and stomp the blood out of them until they drop unconscious.” He ripped off the duct tape and Jeff gasped hard for air when the gag was pulled from his mouth.

“Also,” he followed up in a lighter tone, “Do note that I only have one medic in my employ and he can’t patch you both up at the same time. From what he told me, bullets to the shoulders are tricky.”

That seemed to do the trick; the brutal logic of the threat of one of them bleeding out seemed to bring Jeff back. And he refused to let Nat go through this awful pain, so… he relented. He groaned and stammered, still gasping for air and trying to calm his breathing to get the words out.

Eric slowly pushed his shoe down once more, lightly, just squeezing more blood out of the wound, but knowing it still hurt like a bitch.

It brought out another cry and Jeff practically screamed “I’m sorry! Okay?! God, I—AagHh! I’m sorry!” He gasped in relief when Eric backed away.

“Thank you,” Eric said sweetly. “I have to admit, that was cathartic. Wasn’t it good to get that out?” He backed up and stopped next to Nat, swirling a hand through their thick hair, slithering down and gripping their chin, slick with tears, to force them to look up. He felt them nod against his grip and they both watched as Jeff still writhed in the afterglow.

“Good. Kyle, escort the good man to the doctor, please.” He turned to Nat with a wolfish grin. “Then I’ll keep our friend company.”

-

Continued here

Tagging, it's pretty much a continuation and I might write more so: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @hurtmebeautifully @im-just-here-for-the-whump @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion

Lemme know if you want on/off.

[whumperofworlds]

Whump Dialogue

"Help me!"

[whumpycries]

Whumpy dialogue prompts

1. "I... I don't understand."

2. "I can be quiet. I'll be quiet."

3. "Are you sure?"

4. "I don't believe you."

5. "You've done enough."

6. "What do you mean you don't remember?"

7. "It's alright, I've had worse."

8. "You're being ungrateful."

9. "You don't deserve this."

10. "But you told me..."

11. "It's cute that you think I care."

12. "Oh it hurts, does it?"

13. "Was it worth it?"

14. "I'll let you breathe once you've earned it."

15. "This is for your own good."

16. "Just a break, please."

17. "You're going to kill me!"

18. "Shh, you don't want to make it worse."

19. "You're insane, you're fucking batshit crazy, you're out of your goddamn mi—"

20. "Th- thank... thank y-you, sir."

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

Me when first writing whump: Ok so this is the bubble of personal space, bad guys will not cross it.

Vs

Me now: Imma pop that bubble in the first paragraph, just you watch

[whumperly]

Thinking about restrained whumpees + knives again.

Specifically the way their belly flutters and tenses when whumper gently drags the tip of their knife over the soft parts of their abdomen.

[whumpypepsigal]

The Winchesters s01e09: “John, please don’t leave me. Please.”

[trust-me-i-just-get-weirder]

Chilchuck is blorbo. I love this poor little guy.

[lthrboy]

Warning: movie spoilers below

So I was just watching The Man From U.N.C.L.E (2015) on an airplane and hooooly shit there's a scene that almost made me go feral. Giga whumperflies below ❤️

Protagonist codenamed "Solo" gets caught and tortured for fun by a minor antagonist called Uncle Rudy. He had such a sick and twisted and beautiful monologue about his love for torture, especially electrocution. The torture chamber, Rudy's scrapbook of torture photos, the smoke wisping off Solo's body, absolute perfection! I think I've rewatched this scene 4 or 5 times now.

Too bad the good guys broke in and saved Solo, putting Rudy in his own chair and electrocuting him to death. He kinda ended up being a pathetic whumper and sold out his organization before he died. I felt like that was kind of a generic end to that scene, being fed to his own machines. I feel like torture for fun is more enjoyable than torture for revenge, it's prettier too.