#torture and obedience

[hyewka]

imagine dominating a yandere soobin

warnings. dubcon/NC, sub soobin

yan!soobin who has you pinned down to his bed his hold unrelenting against your wrists, no doubt creating red marks around them, the intensity of his ramblings increasing and increasing by the second that it scares you shitless, frozen under his looming figure. “you know im doing all of this because i love you right? i love you for fucksakes. i love you.”

you shake your head timidly because this wasnt love, any sane person knows that—no, everyone knows that, even soobin. he knows it isnt love.

when he leans down closer to your face, trying to kiss you, you kick him again, still attempting to struggle out of his hold but that only serves to press against the tent in his pants, soobins breathing hitching—suddenly getting heavier to your horror. “soobin. let…me…go.” you try to keep your breathing in control, not letting your voice break, pleading.

he shakes his head, eyes crazed and desperate. “no, no i wont. i wont. i love you. i cant. ive—ive done… everything for you, i-”

the moment you feel his hold weakening, you yank your hand, immediately going to strike his face—out of pure outrage, the fact that he has even an ounce of audacity to convince you that hes somehow doing you good, that he’s owed anything for his insanity. but then you regret it. so deeply. seeing his bangs fall over his eyes with his head turn to the side and his cheek flushed red, your hand shakes, your whole body trembles at what he might do to you now. he looks even more deranged.

but when he turns to face you again, his expression is totally different from what you expected to be met with. his brows pointed up, eyes clouded, and lips apart, panting.

lust. its lust.

“do anything, do everything. i don’t care.” he picks up your hand up to his cheek again, smiling—smiling. “use me, be angry, slap me, bite me, its okay baby i can take it.”

[echoingalaxies]

Content: self-punishment/injury, conditioned whumpee, trauma

Whumpee got up before dawn to prepare breakfast. For so long now, it had been their routine, something they'd gotten used to doing no matter their condition, no matter the amount of pain or exhaustion weighing them down. Coffee with two sugars, and three fried eggs, would have to be ready to be served precisely at 6, and Whumpee would carry them to Whumper's room where he would still be sleeping, wake him up, and stand there, head bowed, wait until he finished his meal and then take the dirty dishes to the sink.

The few times Whumpee had missed the 6 am mark, even by a couple of minutes, hadn't ended well. Whumpee ran their fingers over the scars they'd received for those mistakes, wide and raised under their shirt, as they waited for the food to cook. They kept glancing at the clock, anxiously, shivering at the thought of being late, but they also couldn't hurry too much because the punishment for undercooked eggs would be just as cruel.

At 5:58, Whumpee had everything set up, and taking the plate and the large mug of coffee in their hands, they started to head toward the stairs, moving slowly for their aching body. Whumpee had become really good at counting in their head, so they knew they were right on time, as they balanced the mug on the plate for a second to knock on Whumper's door.

They pushed the door open, flicked on the lights - so much brighter than Whumpee remembered... He hadn't changed the lightbulb, so had Whumper had to do it himself? How come hadn't he told Whumpee to do it? - and went next to his bed.

"Your breakfast, sir," they said, trying to sound chipper but gentle, humble and happy to be there. "Good morning, sir," they added quickly after, almost having forgotten the proper way of greeting. What has wrong with them today?

Whumper, usually waking up to their voice and demanding to have the food immediately, just pulled the duvet to his chin, face deep buried into pillows. He grunted something inaudible, and Whumpee was left standing there, unsure what to do.

"S-sir? It's morning, sir, time to rise. Are you feeling ill?"

"Shut up," Whumper growled, and his voice was odd, but Whumpee pressed their lips together tightly, afraid to make a sound. "What the fuck are you doing, it's so damn early..."

The plate and the mug were shaking in Whumpee's hands as they began to breathe heavily, panicking. They'd been on time, but they'd made a mistake. They'd made some kind of mistake. Whumper was upset, and oh, when he'd wake up, hell was awaiting for them...

"Please," Whumpee whispered. "I- I'm so sorry. So sorry, sir..."

After a few mess-ups, Whumper had introduced Whumpee to an alternative option when it came to punishments of slipping off schedule or not completing their tasks just as Whumper had told them to. Quicker, easier, and for Whumper, even more fun than getting to carve marks on Whumpee's skin.

He'd love to watch Whumpee be humiliated.

"I don't want to waste my time on you when I have better things to do," Whumper had once said. "Make it simpler for the both of us. You know when you mess up. Why not get the consequenses out of the way? Use whatever's available, as long as you clean up the blood."

Whumper was still under the covers, perhaps falling back to sleep. Whumpee was still confused by the situation, but it seemed like he should've somehow known to not bother him this morning, oh no, they'd done gravely wrong, and there was only two ways out...

And they'd made their choice which route to take.

Whumpee set the plate on the nightstand, and closed their eyes, when with trembling hands, they took the mug of still steaming coffee above their head and spilled it all over themselves. Even as cried out in agony, they kept reminding themselves whatever Whumper would have done to them would've been worse, and with any luck, this would be enough.

Whumper was once again woken up by Whumpee's cries, and bolted up from the bed like he'd been electrocuted. Whumpee felt a sting in their heart. Of course they'd want to watch. Why would they miss the show? Maybe they'd be unsatisfied with their pain and make Whumpee throw themselves down the stairs for good measure.

Whumper cursed loudly and grabbed Whumpee's arm, pulling them out of the room and to the nearest bathroom. He shoved Whumpee under the shower and turned it on, turning the temperature cold. He squeezed Whumpee's arms, shaking them lightly.

"Oh god, Whumpee, why would you do that? What were you thinking?"

Whumpee coughed, the water getting into their mouth. They shivered, from cold and from fear.

Another mistake.

Nothing made sense.

Why was whumper helping him? What was all of this?

Whumpee tried to pry themselves away from Whumper's grip and out of the shower, but Whumper held them still.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry -"

"Wait," he said, sounding concerned rather than angry now. "Oh shit, Whumpee, no, stop that. Look at me. I'm not him."

Whumpee did as they were told and raised their gaze to meet the eyes they expected to be gray and cruel, and was shocked to see hazel, and nothing but kindness.

"I'm not him," he repeated, and Whumpee blinked a few times, letting their eyes take in the rest of the person's face. "Everything is okay. You're home, remember? Safe."

The person had dark circles under their eyes. They had a friendly face, although right now, they wore a worried expression. Whumpee wiped water from their face to see better... their eyes must've been lying to them...

"I..." Whumpee begun, stammering. "S-sorry... I should've let you sleep... I didn't know... I'm sorry..."

"Whumpee, shh." The person reached to turn off the shower and then let go of them to grab a large, thick towel they spread on Whumpee's shoulders. "Don't, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realise it was you. You shouldn't even be walking! I thought it was Teammate just annoying me, I was barely awake, I didn't mean to be harsh towards you."

Whumpee pulled the towel around them, turning their head to look around. They knew this bathroom. They'd been patched up here many times before, years earlier. It was Caretaker's.

They looked at the person in front of them. They knew them. It was coming to them slowly, but they knew them better than anyone.

"Caretaker?"

They smiled. "Yeah. It's me. It's okay. You've been home for a few days now, remember?"

"I... guess."

Caretaker helped Whumpee out of their wet clothes and let them shower privately, washing the coffee off their hair and ease the pain in the burns on their scalp, their face, their shoulders.

When whumpee was ready, they opened the door to let Caretaker in once again. Caretaker sat them down on a little stool and started to treat their injuries, talking in a calming matter throughout the process. Whumpee was still feeling lost, his brain struggling to understand what was real and what was not.

"I'm still so sorry, Whumpee," Caretaker said, spreading something soothing over his burns. "I never should've allowed things to go so far that you'd do this to yourself."

"I didn't want you to hurt me," Whumpee said quietly. Caretaker stilled for a second, then continued rubbing the lotion on Whumpee's skin. Whumpee bit their cheeks. Caretaker, and everybody else, didn't know much about what he'd been through with Whumper. They hadn't had many opportunities to talk that much yet.

"I would never do that." Caretaker leaned in and pressed an unexpected kiss on Whumpee's forehead. Whumpee blushed, though they were grateful it probably was hidden by their already reddened face. No one had done that for... Whumpee didn't even know how long. "No one will ever hurt you here. And you never have to hurt yourself, okay?"

Whumpee wished they could keep that promise. But who was to say what happened this morning wouldn't happen again?

"Yeah," they said. Caretaker's touch was gentle and comforting, and Whumpee remembered them as a trustworthy person.

Only it all wasn't up to Caretaker.

And it wasn't up to Whumpee. They didn't decide to forget they were not living in that nightmare anymore.

But if things were to be like this, would they ever truly get out?

[greenbirdgreen]

i very much enjoyed @elreyciervo 's bleach x mha fic Death, Erasure, Voice and so i drew ichigo from it!!

[astrowhump]

Junior #4

flash back- a gloomy morning

TW: mentions of abuse, broken bones, blood, implied murder, stockholm syndrome, angst

[previous chapter]

“…are you okay?”

One harsh glance is enough to make Junior stammer.

“s-s-s-sorry m-m-as-ster-r…” his head droops down to avoid the angry gaze.

Alexander is in a gloomy mood today; he spent a good few minutes just staring out the kitchen window with an empty expression. Junior wrestled with himself for a while before he decided to speak up. It’s very unusual for Master to be grumpy so early in the day; he knows Alex is an early bird, religiously bound to his hour-long morning rituals. No, something special must be going on today.

Alexander is in no mood to be disturbed by the pesky pet; he considers gagging and locking him in the basement. But then he’d be bored out of his mind all day, he isn’t in the mood for that either. He weighs up his options. Finally, with an intentionally long sigh, he decides to open up. Afterall, why shouldn’t he? This boy will be dead and dumped in a landfill eventually.

“It’s my father’s death anniverssary today.”

Junior didn’t expect a soft tone out of that miffed face.

“Oh! I’m s-sorry m-master.” He gathers all his courage to put a reassuring hand on his master’s elbow. His right hand never lost the tremor even after his broken wrist healed.

Alex bursts into an unlooked-for fit of laughter, loud and terrifying. Junior immediately withdraws his hand, but his master doesn’t even notice, howling with laughter until he’s out of breath.

“Sorry? Oh no, little pet. Today is a jolly jolly day. It’s the anniverssary of the day I got rid of that good-for-nothing piece of garbage.”

He turns to face his boy and Junior’s eyes go wide. His master’s face has turned a bright shade of pink with how hard he’s smiling, like a child excited for a trip to Disneyland. It’s never good when Alex is excited.

“I think we should celebrate.”

Junior has a good guess what ‘celebrating’ translates into in his dictionary. He takes a step backwards, not really hoping to get away, but to delay the inevitable ‘celebration’ for as long as he can.

“You know he was the first person I ever took the life of. Well-deserved I’d say…”

Alex’s predator spirit is back, he backs the boy out of the kitchen step-by-step, into the living room.

“It was a beautiful sunny morning. I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming…that poor woman.” Something similar to sorrow takes over Alexander’s expression for an instant and disappears in the blink of an eye.

He keeps his eyes glued to Junior’s dilated pupils as he follows him, dragging out each step, fully certain that his boy has nowhere else to run to.

“I walked in on him beating my mother to shit right there in the living room, under our family photo…You could say my father wasn’t really a morning person.”

He pauses for a second, trying to recall everything in vivid detail.

“Do you know what I did, Junior?”

Junior only shakes his head no; internally scolding himself for asking, regretting every single choice he made today.

“Do you?” Alex shouts. His raspy voice, his creepy smile, how he slowly crouchs like a beast ready to hunt, and that hair-raising glint in his eyes; they all come together to force a stream of tears down his boy’s face.

“…n-n-no m-m-master…” he’s nearing the sofa, a dead end; he doesn’t want to know what happens when he runs out of room to get away.

“I grabbed the telephone…” he says as he reaches for the antique phone sitting uselessly on the coffee table. The back of junior’s knee hits the sofa.

The chase is over, here comes the pain.

“And I slammed it right into his disgusting head.” He swings the phone at the boy’s face and it lands right below his eye. Junior lets out a blood-curdling scream as he crashes to the ground.

“And I kept striking blow…” the phone hits the untouched side of Junior’s face and he feels his jaw crashing under the force.

“…after…” another hit to his broken cheekbone.

“…blow…” Junior hardly comprehends anymore; his vision starts going black, but not quite enough to stop the feeling of pain, just enough to make his eyes burn and his ears ring each time the handset bashes him in the face.

“…until his obnoxious fucking brain was all over the floor,” He says that with a prideful smile as he lands his final blow on the almost-unconscious bloodied mess on the floor. Junior yelps, not quite present enough to do much more, fractured skull sending wave after wave of pain through his nerves. He keeps his eyes shut, begs his brain to shut down and let go of this agonizing consciousness; but the ache keeps tapping on his window the second he starts drifting off, bringing him back to the present moment.

Alex’s smile slowly fades away as flashes from the past make him feel nostalgic. He places the blood-stained landline phone back in its place and collapses on the sofa right above where Junior lies sobbing.

The birds chirping ouside and the sunlight luminating the room is a delight to the captor and headache-inducing to his prisoner. It’s a beautiful day and blood is in the air, exactly as it was years ago.

“This just might be the best anniverssary I’ve spent so far. Stop ruining it with your annoying weeping.”

Junior doesn’t have an ounce of force in him to respond; he just lowers the volume of the whimpers to avoid getting on his master’s nerves.

“Come on now, Junior. It’s not that bad. Go clean yourself up.” He nudges at his side with his foot.

The boy tries, he puts all his energy into it but his brain is just too weak to order his limbs to move. He wants to sleep so bad. He rolls to his side and coughs out some of the blood that’s started pooling inside his mouth.

“Ah goddammit!” He stands and lifts the drowsy boy up by his arms, putting a firm hand behind his back to keep him still. Even though he’s obviously irritated, his touch is gentle.

“Man up, Junior.” It’s Alexander speaking, but those aren’t his words. Deep down, he’s just a cheap impersonation of his father.

He helps the boy toddle back to the kitchen and wash his face in the sink. The cool water helps soothe the constant burning in his jaw.

Junior’s head is still spinning. His fingers unclasp from the edge of the counter as his vision goes black. For just a second, he loses his balance; but to his dimay, he doesn’t crash to the floor, instead he lands on a warm chest and Alexander’s hands wrap around his shoulders. His tormentor holds him as he cries, lulling him into a sense of care, however false or temporary that might be.

“I’m sorry…sorry…” Junior whispers between his sobs as he sinks his face in his master’s shirt; too over-whelmed to know what he’s even sorry about.

“shhh it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay…” Alex cooes in his hair as he presses soft kisses to the crown of his head.

Basking in the peaceful moment, they remain still, enjoying the warmth of each other’s embrace, for as long as it lasts.

taglist (tell me if you wanna be added) @ladygwennn @darkthingshappen @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @thelazywitchphotographer @horribleauthortm @angelwhump @hiding-in-the-shadows @oddsconvert @gala1981 @there-will-always-be-blood @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumperfully @pigeonwhumps @cc1010fox

[venusararara]

@hotpinkmoon ... you opened pandoras box, not my fault!!! srry, gatherine took him when i wasnt looking!!! she has obtained the throat goat

[coldresolve]

How would you tell the difference between obedience and following orders to avoid being hurt? How could you portray this? Torture can’t make people “obedient”, but it can make them do whatever they think will end their suffering.

Is it too unrealistic to think a torturer would see them reluctantly complying with their orders and think they’ve made someone obedient even if they actually haven’t?

i genuinely don't know why tf people are so hung up on the obedience thing. it's just not how human beings work. it's not even how dogs work ykwim

torture breeds resentment and hatred, it radicalizes people. defiance always gets portrayed as this rare thing, but in reality it is the norm, by far. lying, attempting to escape, fighting, sabotage, malicious compliance, etc etc. this is the most realistic thing you're going to get out of torturing someone. compliance would likely be a way to bide time to attempt an escape or mount up a decent resistance. it's going to look very, very different from obedience, even just at a surface level, they're not even comparable imo. and there will be things people aren't even willing to do just for show. people get stubborn like that

a torturer is realistically not going to think they've made someone genuinely obedient by torturing them, unless they are delusional. and i don't mean pop culture delulu, i mean they'd have to be experiencing clinical delusions. which is a route i'd personally be careful going down, because schizospec people are already dealing with enough stigma as is, so like. ehh

[coffeeangelinabox]

Febuwhump #4: Obedience

Whumper paces around the room. His soft shoes whisper soft against the tiles. "You will learn," he says.

Says. Doesn't snarl or spit or sneer. Just says. Calm, emotionless, factual. He may as well be reading out a menu or a directory.

Whumpee stays where he is. He tries to force his mouth into a show of disdain, to slur out some more defiance, but the pain has left his brain detached, like he's floating, floating through a red sea that bit and burned.

He won't give in. What had dad used to say - that he didn't even know the word surrender? And this...this is nothing. Brutal, blunt force. It hurts (the admission almost made him smile. Hurts is a far inadequate word for what he feels) but it's nothing. More trauma. More abuse.

Like he doesn't have practice.

Whumper steps up close. Digs the toe of his shoe into one of the burns on his ribs. The cattle prod, Whumpee remembers as he howls.

"So again, from the top." A deep sigh, like a disappointed teacher and the toe digs in harder, the metal point of whatever he's now holding in his hands trailing over Whumpee's side and the back of his neck and making his breath hitch in fear. "Be a good boy and tell me, what's my name?"

[likeabxrdinflight]

I'm gonna find a way to shoehorn Mary into this good omens fic if it kills me

[sensitivegoblin]

Tied to your own bed and blindfolded, let's see how many hours you can handle soft ticklish torture on one or two spots

Abhfssffffffff pleasepleaseplease 🥹✨🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

[flameleads]

Anonymous might want to run: For someone smart enough to figure out the nation-wide transmutation circle, you'd think Hughes wouldn't have fallen for the simple trick of someone wearing his wife's face?? Such a waste of potential.

Destroy My Muse | Currently accepting.

They dared. They dared to play with fire.

How foolish could one person be?

Silence erupted from the Flame. The lava that formed obsidian eyes began flowing through his veins as his posture stiffened. Trimmed fingernails dug into the palms of his hands as he clenched both of them at his sides---no, that was a lie. One hand went into his pocket, stopping short of sliding into the familiar fabric of his ignition glove. Millimeters away, he knew how to temper himself. He knew when and where to arm himself.

But, he wanted to. Underneath his skin, his blood boiled.

“Don’t say his name,” he spat, voice low and frigid. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep it out of your mouth. Otherwise, you’ll learn exactly what a waste of potential looks and feels like. Because I’ve got a few simple tricks up my sleeve too---like the one where I can turn a human being into ash in seconds. Or make it impossible for them to breathe. Need me to keep going?”

[nobody-cared-then-either]

The biggest complaint I have about my parents is that they're fascists.

[cassael]

Hey so. Is cas being an interrogater apocalypse only or . Because he seems pretty good at it.

[hecksupremechips]

I love me some homoerotic torture 🥰

[sednas]

ও gojo satoru x fem!reader

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 never stops talking. even during sex. hell, he's even more talkative during sex.

and he knows that you're not as chatty as he is. especially when he's buried deep inside your cunt.

"keep talking to me or I will stop, princess." he orders, his blue eyes leaving where your two bodies are connected to meet your face.

"I..."

he raises an eyebrow, inviting you to keep going, his hands tightening around your hips to stop your body from moving. you release a cute whine and he starts rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs on your skin, a soft smile spreading across his handsome face.

"I went to the bookstore this morning and..."

you pause to let out a shaky sigh as he starts to move slowly again, dragging your hips back and forth and your hands find his shoulders to keep you balanced.

"it's okay princess, keep going, I wanna know how was your day." he coos, almost purring against your ear.

and you're too busy trying not to stutter to notice the way his bottom lip is slightly shaking, the way he removes one of his hands from your hip to grab a fistful of the sheets, his knuckles going white around the soft fabric. his cock is still lazily pumping in and out of you and his eyes close for a split second when he hears your voice crack as you try to explain in detail how your day went. gojo has always lived a life of restraint, and his sex life is no exception. he's always gentle with you because he has to, even when you ask him to be rough, he'd break you in two if he really listened. but god sometimes he desperately wants to.

he smiles at your obedience and you keep talking, your hands clutching his chest, your nails lightly scratching his skin.

"can't... please, satoru..."

you swear you just felt his cock throb inside you and you whimper when he suddenly grabs your face, his large hand covering almost half of your face.

"look at me. baby, you're so sweet, all of you is so pretty, I could keep fucking you like this forever."

you try to look away from his piercing gaze but it's no use with the way he's holding your face. he's all over you, his free hand roaming over your tits, his mouth leaving wet kisses on your neck and his cock bullying your poor pussy.

this sweet torture will last until he gets tired of your whines, which rarely happens.

[moechies]

kissing up on sukuna.｡o○

“what’re you doing brat? stop it.”

your lips assault the man’s face, peppering sweet kisses along his plentiful tattoos. he’s always been sensitive where the black ink littered across the skin of his body, and you figured that out not long after he took you as his dearest wife .

he squirms away from your touch, a light push against your chest, “stop it.”

“what.. you don’t like it?” you purr, rubbing the sticky gloss off of his cheek. he doesn’t answer you, only a petulant frown that paints his face, likely embarrassed of the slight flush in his cheek. you don’t mind.

“can i do it more ?” you ask sweetly , although he’d never ever say no. he does his best to sit below you obediently, but can’t help but grumble when he feels your sticky lipgloss transfer onto his skin. the scent of artificial strawberry is nauseating to him, and he doesn’t get why you like it. but for you, he thinks he’ll deal with it.

for now at least, until he gets so fed up with it he ends up throwing it away. but don’t fret, he’d repay you by buying you a variety of new designer products that would last a life time, just so you don’t complain.

“ do you like me ryomen? “

his eyebrow raises,

“you think i’d let someone i didn’t like torture me like this?” he grumbles, your cheeks in between his fingers forcing you to face him whilst you spoke.

“admwit it, say you wike me pwease.” your voice slurred due to his grip on your face.

“you’ll say it if you weally do !”

“no. you already know that i do. why should i say it?”

“pleaseee , ryomen ?”

he sighs, letting go of your jaw allowing you to rest yourself on his chest.

“i like you.”

“y’ do? really?!”

“you know that! i married you!”

“but you never said it until now! now it feels real.” you look up at sukuna with a dopey smile, eyes bright and so full of love he swears he sees hearts as pupils. he can’t help but crack a smile internally, but in reality he simply huffs.

“tch. i might even love you, dumb brat.”

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Things Dr.Ratio says in bed~

Inspired by @/roseloon and their series

"You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? We'll see how long that attitude lasts."

"What was that? Speak up. I know you have a tiny little brain but even you can string up a sentence, can't you? Oh? I'm fucking you too roughly? Well that's too bad, isn't it?"

"Use. Your. Words."

"Yeah? You like that? Like having my fat cock stretch out your pretty pussy?"

"Over my knee. Now."

"You taste delicious, darling."

"You're going to cock warm me while I read and I don't want a single peep out of you. Understand?"

"Take it- take it- that's it. Good girl~"

"I love it when you're obedient. Go on. Hump my leg."

"How many. Hmm? Oh, you lost count? I guess we're going to have to start all over then." Spank

"Kiss me. Now."

"You're fine. I've used enough lube. Now stop struggling before I make it hurt."

"We'd make very smart children, my love."

"Where do you want it? In your pussy? Of course you do, you fucking whore~"

"Drink my cum and savor it, pet."

"You get one more answer wrong and I'm going to cane that ass."

There we go. A pretty collar for you with my name on it. Just so that poor little brain of yours can remember who you belong to.

"Breed you? Yeah? You want my seed to impregnate this slutty body? Want to have my babies?"

Wait for me in the bedroom. Wear the lingerie that I like. I'll be there in ten minutes and I want you to be kneeling.

"You want to cum? Then solve the problem. You can't? Well, I guess this vibrator is going to keep torturing your clit~"

"Oh baby, you poor ass is so red! Let's make your pussy red too."

"Of course you got the promotion, my darling. Only a genius like you is fit to be with someone like me."