one day, by chance, hero runs into villain's civilian identity. villain doesn't recognize them. seeing this as an invaluable chance to get more intel on their enemy, hero befriends villain.

Chapter 2

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cw: burn torture, forced to hurt, whipping, intimate/possessive whumper (contains suggestive comments but there is no intent or action beyond a kiss)

Quill steps down the stairs the next morning, smirking at the glare given to him by his newest catch as he sidles up to the gleaming silver bars. “What, didn't you miss me?” he asks her. Hopefully, a single night with his pet was enough to give her a glimpse of what her future might look like. Maybe it’d tamp down on those defiant urges he knew she’d be having.

Valeria rolls her eyes at the comment, not bothering to even laugh in mockery.

“It puts something of a dapper on your charm when you lock me in a cell for hours with a kid you traumatized. What were you expecting, Muscles?” she sneers, her ice green eyes never leaving her captor’s.

“Hmph.” Quill takes a few steps to the right, placing himself in front of them. His eyes narrow in on the boy—his pet, how dare she—in the woman’s arms. “I hope you know what a fool you look like, clinging to that thing. Your bleeding heart will be fun to break.”

“Funny how you seem to be all bark and no bite with me,” Valeria replies coolly, then, digging in where she knew she'd hit a nerve; she continued, “I mean, your confidence is starting to look rather fragile.”

Quill’s eyes sparkle with something dangerous, and she smirks slightly. “Fragile?”

Calix wakes to the sound of a familiar voice. A very familiar voice. He jerks upright, back screaming in agony at the sudden movement. He looks up through the bars at a leering, horrifying face, heart rapidly speeding up. Calix lets out a terrified noise and clings to Valeria, ducking his head. Any chance, any hope that she’ll– that she cares enough to– “Please, please,” he whines, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Mhm, almost like you're scared I’ll prove you wrong. And I wouldn't expect that from your attitude. To be afraid of someone a lot smaller than you...you're not afraid of me, are you, big boy?” she asks, flashing a grin at his expression, which is slowly growing colder. She’s testing the waters, now.

Quill bristles at the words, but keeps his charming smirk in place. He instead focuses on the weak little thing sniveling and crying for the girl to protect him. Quill tsks, unlocking the cell and entering. He only has eyes for his pet. In two quick strides, he grabs Calix’s ankle, dragging him away screaming from the girl. “I thought I'd taught you better than this, sweet thing,” he murmurs to the crying boy on the floor. And then the girl speaks again.

“Coward.” Valeria sneers, locking eyes with her captor. “You're scared. You have to pick on someone you already know is afraid of you. So I guess it's not just your confidence that's fragile, huh? Scared I'd break you instead?"

Quill drops Calix's ankle. The boy curls up on the floor and cries softly. “What, girl?” he spits. The charming smile finally falls. “You cannot break me. I am stronger than the strongest of metals. You are nothing but a child with a bratty mouth. Do you want me to put you in your place? Are you asking for it? Because I will give it to you.”

“Put up or shut up then. Prove it, because I. Don't. Believe. You,” Valeria tells him, already bracing herself for the pain she knows will be coming. “I dare you.”

What Goes Bump in the Night

just some good ol' Villain angst and aftermath

Hero hadn't expected the screaming when they walked through the glass doors.

They didn't know what they had expected from the Rehabilitation Center for the criminals with gifts.

Certainly not the stale walls, with the texture of vomit, or the long, empty halls, lit with clinically fluorescent lights.

Certainly not the receptionist with a dead gaze and nails that tapped, tapped at the keyboard. They sounded like insects scurrying over the tiles.

And certainly not the screaming. The muffled screaming burned through the walls and spilled into the entrance.

Some flowers would be nice. Or sunlight. Or a splash of pastel paint.

Hero clenched their jaw. They were fine with the screaming. Fine, fine, fine. It was just...unexpected.

"I'm here to see Villain," Hero told the receptionist. Their teeth ached from how tightly they had bitten down. Their skin was crawling, something alive and twitching along their muscles.

The receptionist stopped clicking. She looked up at them, blinked, then resumed typing.

Hero wore their suit, but no mask. They rested their hands on the clinical desk and leaned forward earnestly, "Villain? Where is he?"

They didn't have a fingernail on their right pointer finger, and several were crooked. Their smile was tired and uneven, giving them a lopsided, careless appearance.

Mostly, they looked anxious.

"Down the hall, to your left. One-eighteen, laddie," she laughed internally, at their cowardice. This was the big, bad hero of the city?

Hero smiled a thank you and vanished.

The door was gated with an electrical lock.

#118

It glowed blue, as serene as starlight in the painful brightness of the passage. Except here, neither starlight or sunlight ever reached the prisoners.

More screaming-- from further down the hallway-- cut through the silence and Hero's own sharp breathing. The hall smelled of ammonia or iron. Both bitter and bright, if smells had color.

Then the lock clicked green, opening partially of its own accord.

Hero shut the door behind them. By now, all thoughts of gloating had turned to uneasiness.

"Villain? Villain--"

Oh.

Oh god.

Villain swung from the ceiling, wrists twisted at odd angles, head drooping. His bare feet barely touched the concrete.

In the middle of the room was a drain.

Smeared bloodstains on the walls. How did blood get on the wall?

The smell of iron was much, much stronger in here.

And Hero could only stare.

Villain slowly, slowly glanced up. His face looked like it had been deconstructed and then rather badly put back together. One eye was sealed shut.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice was a rasp, rather than a taunt, and blood dribbled out with the words, staining his chest.

There.

Some of the old banter.

This, Hero recognized.

This, Hero knew.

"You mean what's left of it?" They circled Villain, then drew up sharply. They recognized some of their old work-- the fist-shaped scars on Villain's ribs and the one splitting his ear, but a lot was new.

These were raw and infected and brutal.

Then.

Hero's expression twisted like they were about to be sick. Their hands shook as they ghosted over an old brand on Villain's hip, half-covered by his pants.

Villain laughed at Hero. Laughed. It came out as a rattled cough instead. "You think you're the only one who liked to pummel me every night?" He took a shallow breath. "Idiot. Not everything's about you."

Hero threw up. They barely turned to the side in time to avoid throwing up all over Villain.

They wiped their mouth with the back of their hand. All humor was gone. They asked one question. One question and that was it. They forced it through clenched teeth. "Who?"

"Supervillain." He blew a piece of hair out of his face. The temperature always seemed to be set five degrees above what he could bear, making everything clingy and humid. Adding discomfort on discomfort until he fucking snapped. "Nemesis dear, you're going to have to get in line."

They hadn't cut his tongue out yet

The whumperflies this gave me

Whumpee on their knees.

Whumper pushing whumpee down by their shoulders to their knees.

Whumper kicking whumpee's legs out from under them to get them to their knees.

Whumper pulling whumpee up from their belly to their knees.

Whumper grabbing whumpee by the collar and forcing them to their knees.

Whumpee bound up in a kneeling position.

Defiant whumpee finally, shamefully kneeling in front of whumper in defeat.

Broken whumpee eagerly falling all over themselves to kneel before whumper.

Whumper grabbing a kneeling whumpee's face and pulling it up to look at them.

Whumper standing menacingly over a kneeling whumpee.

You're a Car Crash, And I Can't Look Away

So, I got this idea from a post talking about a whumpee calling their whumper by their name, and I had to write a short version of it.

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

enemies to lovers prompt where one of them accidentally goes too far and nearly kills the other.

the thing is that they always wanted to hurt them, always wanted to see their archenemy on their knees, bruised and bleeding in front of them.

until they go too far and their archenemy might actually die, and that's when they realize they can't live without that man they hate the most.

— from this fic.

when a powerful figure is reduced to kneeling. when the lord is forced to bow. when the exile stumbles into an unwelcoming bar. when the “beast” is chained by their horns. when a god is dragged behind their enemy’s chariot, a captive and trophy. when the loyal “guard dog” character is muzzled and the silver-tongued thief falls silent in horror.

that’s the shit

it’s about the contrapasso. the reversal of roles and the sudden, plunging terror of being unable to hide.

hear me out, that moment when a character, who was known to be invincible and cold blooded, closed their eyes when they realized they were defeated and the killing blow was about to be delivered and kill them for good. after they looked up at their archenemy from where they lay on the floor and realized they had lost. when they closed their eyes when their archenemy pointed their gun at them because, as brave as they thought they were, they couldn’t look.

and when their archenemy pulled the trigger and the gun shot blank because the archenemy never actually wanted to kill them to begin with, they flinched because they expected a bullet to their skull, but the impact never came.

and the second they carefully opened their eyes again, after several seconds of utter silence went by, the fear was so clear in their eyes.

no matter how strong they were, they flinched and were scared.

and they didn’t think their archenemy would spare them after what they did. deep down, they knew they didn’t deserve to live, and they were terrified of death, but at the same time too prideful to beg.

they thought their enemy would kill then. and they were left trembling when their enemy spared their life in the end.

then they realized they were, after all, capable of being scared.

this. right. here. thank you.

Whump Dialogue

"Strip."

A hero being forced to talk to reporters about the Hero Academy they went to and being told under no uncertain terms that they are not allowed to say anything bad. They just have to sit there and get slowly triggered by the constant references to their old instructors while they smile and nod and say those were the best years of their life.

today I offer you: hiding injuries!

consider, however: whumpee isn’t hiding this injury because they don’t want their team to find out they’re hurt, but because they’re afraid of what whumper will do to them if the extent of their current injuries is revealed. whumper can find them anywhere — that much has been made quite clear by now. no matter how far they run, where they try to hide, there’s nowhere that they can truly escape from whumper.

their injuries are bad enough as it is. smaller wounds, of course, nothing that can’t be hidden under loose clothing, but it’s enough for them to feel the sting of the cuts and bruises every time the skin around their joints stretches. it’s enough that they can’t escape the feeling of the wounds on their skin even days later. it’s enough that they have to put in an effort, consciously remind themself that no, they can’t go to the infirmary, because if they do it will be so much worse.

so they hide it. they stay quiet, they patch themself up as well as they can (but never too much, lest whumper suspect they had help), while the secret slowly eats them from the inside out. they can see the concerned glances from their friends, but no one will say anything to whumpee — not when the slightest question of are you okay has whumpee snapping and storming off.

(they know their friends will find out far too easily if they don’t.)

and so they hide, as slowly, not slowly enough, the injuries start to get worse. they’re harder to hide, going further down their limbs and taking longer and longer to heal each time, until finally, whumper decides it’s time to go for the face. now, whumpee is faced with a decision: how on earth are they supposed to hide the wound this time? it’s a huge bruising slice, right down their cheek — their hair can cover a good bit, but not enough to conceal this. the best they can do is put a patch over it and hope that no one asks.

but of course someone asks. of course someone corners them in an otherwise empty room, backing them to the wall with an expression of so much concern and worry in their face. of course caretaker just has to reach up and tug the edge of the patch up, just enough to reveal the edge of the barely-scabbed-over cut running down the length of whumpee’s cheek.

and of course whumpee can’t stop the tears from dripping down as caretaker holds their jaw so carefully and whispers, what happened to you?

because now that caretaker knows, whumpee knows it’s going to get so, so much worse.

Experiments, pain, and the same cold cell- this had been the whumpee’s entire life thus far. The whumper was cruel as well, sometimes performing particularly cruel experiments out of pure boredom. The whumpee never begged for mercy though, as this was their normal, they had never known anything else.

characters in the spotlight » john murphy : his wardrobe

Murphy : You have to go! Emori : Shh! Shut up, John! My answer's yes...I will love you forever, even if we die today.

john murphy » portrayed by richard harmon

NSFWhump idea

More Whumper Lines

In honor of my first Whumper lines post getting over 1,000 notes, here’s some more! And in some fun categories!

Tag me if you end up using any!

~

Playful/Cheery/Lighthearted

1. “Aw, that was cute. I almost felt that excuse for a punch. Why don’t you try again?”

2. “My favorite part is right before you lose consciousness.”

3. “Caretaker, you know how to do stitches, right? No? Oh well.”

4. “Hm. Your blood’s darker than the last one’s was.”

5. “Sounds like Whumpee’s having fun in there…would you like to go join them?”

Dark/Violent/Rough

1. “Get the fuck over here or I’m dragging you.”

2. “Look at me. Look at me while I hurt you.”

3. “Nothing you say is going to stop me. I have a job to do, and I don’t give a shit how it happens.”

4. “Don’t you get it? I’m not being careful. I want this to hurt you.”

5. “Stay still, you motherf—Stay STILL!”

Creepy/Intimate

1. “Come on, scream like you mean it…there we go. Much better.”

2. “It’s so cute when you fumble with your keys everyday when you come home.”

3. “Your pretty little screams are only for me to hear, understand?”

4. “It’s a shock to me that you’ve never considered modeling. I mean…red just looks so good on you.”

5. “Ah, you remember this scar, don’t you? The day we met…god, what I’d give to break you like that again.”

Reluctant/Hesitant

1. “Look, I’m—I’m sorry, I just need to get this over-with. Bite on this.”

2. “They’ll check for bruises. I have to.”

3. “I’m sorry, boss, I’ve…I’ve never done this before. I-I’m trying.”

4. “Don’t look at me like that when the others are here. Please. They’ll know I’m faking it.”

5. “I’m sorry, I had to say it—you know that’s not how I actually think of you, right?”