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seetheothersideofparadise · 1 year

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The King Will Bow: Fallen Crown

I asked in a poll what I should write and Whumper Turned Whumpee won so IM DOING IT! Had an idea I was thinking about using and this was just the push I needed, enjoy :)

Summary: Julian is well known and respected for his work in training servants, bodyguards, pets— whatever the client has asked. Cecil is a new up and coming trainer looking to make a splash, and decides his most recent project will be Julian.

Tags for this one are: Whumper Turned Whumpee, Kidnapping, Defiant Whumpee, Talk of Conditioning/‘Training’, Drugged, Bound And Gagged Whumpee, Creepy/Intimate Whumper, Dehumanization, Talk of past and implied future Pet Whump, Blindfolds, Blood, Nosebleed (But Not Broken), A Little Violence, POV Whumpee, and Human Trafficking. Tell me if I missed anything!

Note for the worldbuilding, while the characters act like the whole profession of ‘Kidnapping and Training People For Their Own Gain’ isn’t something to blink twice at, this is because they’re rich assholes. This is a rich asshole thing, not a normalized thing.

—

Julian was very good at what he did.

There were many people in the world who wanted servants, pets, bodyguards— the specifics varied. They needed people who were trained to never disobey them. And Julian? He could provide that.

He didn’t do the dirty work of choosing who was sent to him, or even capturing them. Someone else always took care of that and sent them his way. Someone who wouldn’t be missed, someone who could disappear and barely raise an alarm— someone who could be taken away and molded into someone else. And Julian trained them into their new lives.

Of course, it was forceful, because none of them were too happy about it, but that didn’t matter. They didn’t matter, they were a tool and it was Julian’s job to make them see that, however he saw fit. Once they were ready— obedient and pliable— Julian sent them on their way, or sold them off to the highest bidder. It was out of his hands then, maybe he’d see them around if he was around whoever they were shipped off to, but he never acknowledged them. They weren’t his problem anymore. They didn’t matter.

Julian was a trainer and a very good one at that, respected in his field. Sometimes other trainers coming up and asking him for advice on the process and what he did. There were people who requested a job be done by him specifically, even paying extra for it. He got to go to events with people who controlled whole chunks of the city and sit and chat with them like old friends. Julian was powerful.

He just… Was feeling a bit off at that moment.

Julian blinks a few times fast, trying not to sway at one of the most important events of the year. He manages to make it to his table and take a seat, feeling woozy all of a sudden. He sets his drink down in order to rub his face, wondering if maybe he’s had one too many. He wasn’t counting really— he was to excited. He had been talking to the Maxwell Ravens a few moments ago. To get the respect from that guy meant getting it from everybody. If he could get into his inner circle— be a trainer endorsed by him— it would change everything. His career would skyrocket.

He really didn’t want to go home early but Julian wasn’t seeing many options. The last thing he needed was to pass out at an event like this— people would laugh at him for years to come and that’s the exact opposite of what he needed.

Julian groans into his hands as his vision sways harder. The lesser of two evils it is.

Doing his best to walk straight, Julian makes his way across the room and over to Maxwell himself, flashing an apologetic smile. Those who were talking to him a moment before flash looks at Julian before shuffling away when Maxwell murmured something that Julian didn’t hear. It was getting hard to think but he forced the words out anyways. “Hey, I would love to talk with you more about business and pleasure and everything in between but I got some loose ends I need to take care of in the morning so I gotta jet! Get a good night’s sleep y’know?”

Maxwell regards him calmly. It’s hard to get a read on the guy— his ‘I think I like you’ face and ‘I think you’re a bug beneath my shoe’ faces are disturbingly similar. But he smiles politely all the same and nods. “Another time then.”

“For sure.” Julian agrees. “You got my number right? Anytime you want my services, I’m there. I would be such an honor that I’d do it for free!”

“I’m aware.” Maxwell says. There’s a flicker in his eyes— darker, Julian thinks?— but it’s smoothed over so quickly that he’s not certain. “You’ve sent several emails with the same message. And told all my associates how much your work could benefit me.”

Julian winces. Maybe he went a little hard on the sell there but— Maxwell could really change things, he had to shoot his shot. He laughs, albeit awkwardly, and holds his hands up. “I’ll chill out on that— sorry, you’re just— it’s an honor to even be in the same room as you!”

Maxwell’s expression doesn’t change. Julian supposes he probably hears that a lot. He’s basically a modern king— the way people talk about him sometimes sounds like he’s being worshipped, and for good reason. Maxwell controls the fate of the entire city in the palm of his hand.

Nonetheless, Maxwell continues, looking down at his drink and taking a long sip before running a finger around the rim of the glass. “I’m sure it’ll happen again sooner or later, and I’m sure one of these days, I’ll find a way for you to… Benefit me.”

Julian’s heart skips in excitement but he holds back his enthusiasm. He’s struggling to maintain the conversation at all— he better go. Julian dips his head and murmurs one last goodbye and thank you before heading for the exit. He feels eyes on him when he leaves but doesn’t dare turn back.

Julian allows his efforts to drop as he makes his way to the garage. He can feel a headache coming on from his effort, and it only gets worse from there. By some miracle, he makes it to his car without tripping over his own feet, finding they’re heavier than before, but just before he opens up the driver’s door, he realizes there’s no way he can drive without crashing. He’s barely even standing— he feels worse than before— and nauseous. Like his limbs are weighing down on him.

“Had too much to drink?” A voice asks from behind. Julian jumps, spinning around. He’s able to identify the person pretty quickly— Cecil Winters, a trainer like him. He got into the business just two years ago— Julian was surprised to hear that someone who hadn’t been around that long got into an event like this that quickly. It took five for Julian had to get invited— how’d he get picked so quickly?

Cecil looks him up and down, almost amused. Julian rolls his eyes, turning back to his car. “‘m fine.” He spits out. His words slur a bit but it doesn’t matter— Cecil might be a rising star but if it’s Julian’s word or his, Julian is pretty confident people will believe him. This damn newbie isn’t gonna ruin his reputation, no matter how fast he’s moving.

Julian refocuses his attention on his car, trying to think of a way he could get home. He could call a professional driver— or would that tip people off? Damn it, why wasn’t he paying attention to how much he was drinking?

Out of his rear view mirror, Julian sees Cecil stroll up to him, though not quite face-to-face. There’s something about the way he’s moving that’s so— off putting. Julian doesn’t understand it.

“Or maybe,” Cecil grins a little wider and Julian ignores how it creeps him out, “It wasn’t about the quantity of what you drank, just what was in it.”

Julian stops at that. It’s… Wrong somehow. Sends alarms in his head. Why is this little punk freaking him out so much? Is he high? “‘he fuck are ‘ou talkin’ about?” He slurs, sending Cecil a side glance. The world goes fuzzy at its edges.

Cecil laughs at him this time, openly. A bitter and furious feeling hits Julian— how fucking dare he? Does he know who he is?

“You’ve lasted longer than I gave you credit for, I’ll give you that. But there’s no way you’re driving home like that.”

He rolls his eyes at that, anger burning at the edges— who the hell does he think this guy is? “I told ‘ou—”

He doesn’t get another word out. In the blink of an eye, Cecil rushes him, grabbing him and wrestling him into the ground. Julian immediately shouts and fights back, but his limbs don’t quite hit as hard as he would like. Cecil wastes no time slamming him into the ground, knocking the wind out of him, and pinning him on his stomach. Julian attempts to thrash and kick him off but suddenly there’s a hand gripping his hair, pulling his head back, then smashing his face into the floor as hard as he can.

Julian gasps in pain, blood oozing from his nose. He’s taken hits before but not like this— not this brutal. The stars in his eyes take a while to fade and Julian wants to struggle but the hand in his hair lets go and he can’t keep his head up. His faces hit the ground again, lighter this time but with his new injury it feels just as bad, and Julian chokes on his pain.

He barely registers that his arms are being messed with until something tightens around them, forcing them to be folded behind his back. The fog in his head makes it hard to think but Julian tries to brute force his way out of whatever has his arms in a hold. It doesn’t budge— he’s weak and it strikes fear in him when he realizes it. His arms are restrained by something tough, and his years of experience of using very similar restraints tells him it’s leather. He can move and jerk all he wants but it only serves to tire him out. Julian is trapped.

Rage finds him easily. “You fucking—” Julian seethes but is abruptly cut off. Thick cloth is shoved into his mouth and tied around his head. He struggles as hard as he can, trying to buck Cecil off of him and not freeze and panic like his thumping heart wants him to but he doesn’t have the energy. He’s so drained, and it doesn’t help when something is strapped to his head that blocks out his eyes, plunging him into darkness. It only makes him feel more tired, eyes drooping.

Julian bites curses out, muffled through the gag but it’s all he has. He’s panicking now— terror and anger mixing until he doesn’t know what is what anymore. Cecil ignores him, humming as he seems to swap his position, now pinning his legs down and beginning to strap them together too. No amount of kicking does anything— his attempts are pitiful at best and before he knows it, there’s two straps on his upper and lower legs, giving him very little room to work with.

“There we go.” Cecil says at last, satisfaction and pride in his voice. Julian finds it hard to focus, sleep pulling him in, but the terror and fury just barely keeps it at bay. “I know you can’t see it right now but you’re a work of art. In fact, I think you look better like this.”

There’s a brief pause before there’s a hand grabbing his chin, forcing his head to move one way, then the other. Julian shouts angrily, muffled but hoping it gets his point across. Cecil doesn’t say a word to acknowledge it, still humming to himself.

“Yeah, lots better.” He can hear the grin in Cecil’s voice. He runs a thumb over the gag and Julian tries to snap at him but it doesn’t really work. “Someone needs to be muzzled.” Cecil laughs to himself, and Julian’s anger boils over even more. “I’ll get one just for you. But we have to get going— after all, you do have a busy morning ahead of you.”

Cecil lugs Julian over his shoulder like he’s a fucking bag of flour. Julian shouts curses into his gag, swearing vengeance and threats that are never heard, and the wind is knocked out of him again when Cecil throws him onto a cold, metal floor. Julian figures out pretty quickly that it’s a van when it starts up.

He tries screaming and fighting but he’s rapidly running out of energy. Everything is getting so heavy and Julian can’t stand it. It’s clear to him now— something he drank wasn’t right, meaning— meaning Cecil planned this. He wanted to do this all along and was just biding his time.

Julian doesn’t know what the hell is going on but he’s betting on hostage negotiations or— something of that nature. He has the money, that status— kidnapping him has a lot of uses. But it doesn’t matter— Julian is gonna get out of this and ruin Cecil. He doesn’t care how but he’s gonna make sure his career ends here and now.

The drugs wear him down bit by bit by the second. Julian feels his eyes grow tired and tries desperately to stay awake and not miss a thing, but it’s a losing battle. He’s too tired to move anyways— better to sleep the drugs off and deal with in the morning.

The second he stops fighting it, Julian passes out.

—

That’s the first part! Julian is about to find out really quickly that it’s not a hostage negotiation in the slightest, and get a taste of his own medicine along the way.

Hope y’all enjoyed!! Been wanting to do some Whumper Turned Whumpee stuff and just got the perfect excuse to :)

#atlas writes #The King Will Bow Series #whumper turned whumpee #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #blood #nosebleed #drugged whumpee #bound and gagged whumpee #blindfolded whumpee #dehumanization #kidnapping #defiant whumpee #pet whump

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painsandconfusion · 2 years

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Bigger Fish

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Twenty One

(tw: electrocution, stabbling, knife, blood, dislocation, unintentional self harm, nosebleed, death mention, murder mention, beating, some seriously sketchy and inadvisable dangerous diy jobs (do as Nate says not as Nate does, kids))

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Nate watched as Ethan sauntered to the knives. Since when did this bitch saunter? Level up - he must have been paying attention in class. Not that he really needed to, the guy was a giant. Just standing next to someone made him a threat. Still, he wore the added pomp well.

Nate let his fingers unwind from Elias’ hair enough to ruffle it playfully. “For the record, I don’t blame you for wanting to skip to the blood. I think everyone here appreciates it. No hard feelings.”

He stood, relishing the shiver Elias couldn’t quite cover as Nate trailed his fingertips across his shoulders, heading toward Ethan.

Nate folded his arms, looking over the rack, trying to guess which Ethan would pick. “Aww, are you going for the knives because you know I like them? You’re a sweetheart, thank you.”

Ethan didn’t respond, but his jaw tensed - Nate just knew he was glaring at the wall.

He smirked at that, head tipping to the side to try to crane his neck around. See that grumpy little face of his. “Choose carefully, a knife says a lot about a man.”

Ethan groaned, picking one out - a small one. Sharp. Controlled. Standard switchblade. Metal handle. “They say more to a man.”

Nate’s grin faltered for a moment. “Like what?”

Ethan turned, slowly and deliberately pressing the tip of the blade to the hollow of Nate’s throat. “Like ‘shut the fuck up’.”

And Nate was smirking again. “Funny. Very clever, very nice - but don’t you think you want to use up the good lines on him?” Nate jutted a thumb over his shoulder toward Elias.

Aaaand now the blade pressed in a little closer, not quite enough to break the skin, but enough that Nate could feel each heartbeat press against it. Ethan looked annoyed at best. “You say that like you practice yours in front of the mirror or something.”

“Well only because I’m too damn handsome to stay away from mirrors.”

Those dark eyes bored into him. Trying to tear him apart. Make him flinch. He was hungry, Nate could see it.

But so long as Ethan had bigger fish to fry, Nate was safe.

So he didn’t waver. Didn’t even consider letting the grin drop.

Eventually, the knife slid up his throat and away as Ethan stepped past him toward Elias. Time to fry the Bigger Fish, he guessed. Nate allowed him the slightest touch of control, tipping his head back to avoid the blade’s bite as it flicked past his chin. Keep Ethan happy. Very fun, but becoming a full time job. The balance was hard to strike - even harder to maintain.

But still.

Fun.

He turned, eyes following Ethan to see what he’d do. Nate started pacing - feet refusing to hold still as he was left on the sidelines to watch as Elias started to tremble. He shoved his hands in his pockets, refusing to fidget.

Why did Ethan get to have all the fun? Nate’s workshop. Nate’s knife. Nate’s plan. Grrrr.

He forced his steps slower, prowling around the kneeling man as Ethan crouched in front of him. Nate’s eyebrows furrowed as Ethan plunged the knife into Elias’ leg. Elias didn’t quite scream. More a grunting wail, really. But. Close enough. They’d loosen up those vocal chords in no time. Seeing him convulse around and away from the knife was good enough for now.

The blood started seeping into his jeans. Slow. Dark. Intoxicating.

Then Ethan just…..stood up??? Stepped away??

Nate raised a brow. “Well at least twist it or something.”

Ethan barely threw a scowl over his shoulder as he approached a shelf of tools nearby.

He selected a car battery, dragging it up and off the shelf.

Ah.

A man with a plan, after all.

Nate chuckled as Elias’ breath caught. Then came a little faster.

His hands started twisting against bruised and bloodied wrists, tugging against the cuffs that locked him to the ground.

Nate stepped closer behind him, ruffling the man’s hair - scratching away tufts of matted blood. “Aww, don’t like the zappy zappy?”

Elias wrenched his head from Nate’s grip, snarling, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Ooooo, scary.” Nate leaned down next to him, lips at his ear. “Do you think you’ll still have that mouth on you after we get you screaming, or will you be too shy?” He feins a pout.

Pain exploded across his cheekbone and nose, blasting back through his sinuses - pressing and burning hard up under his eyes.

Nate snapped back, stumbling away as thick, hot blood wound down his nose and dripped over his lips. A few oily drops seeped between his fingers as he stared at it - almost disbelieving.

Elias just…..headbutted him??

Nate huffed out a half-amused snort. “Well that was stupid.”

Ethan apparently finally caught on. He was grinning at Nate - laughing softly. “No no - you look good like that - I personally think you should be bleeding all the time.”

Nate narrowed his eyes at Ethan, flicking the blood in his direction - a few flecks landing on Ethan’s jeans. “Bitch.”

Ethan’s smile didn’t drop as he turned his attention back to the battery, familiarizing himself with the external dimmer’s controls.

Nate gave up trying to stop the flow in favor of I-don’t-even-fucking-care-anymore and just letting it stream down over his chin. There was blood on his shirt already, anyway. Whatever.

He barely caught a glimpse of Elias’ ducked smirk before sinking a foot in the man’s side.

Elias sputtered, doubling over and coughing, writhing against the handcuffs to try to protect himself better.

He couldn’t.

Nate hit him again - higher this time. He felt the ribs give way under the force of the kick, cracking in place. Elias was wheezing before the third kick ensured they were fully broken.

Elias was on his side again, gasping. Legs curled and tucked up against his chest as unsteady and shallow breaths shuddered in and out of him. Nate ground a foot against his impaled thigh, leaning down over the shivering man - letting the blood drip slowly across his neck.

“Was that worth it? Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Ethan chirped from behind him. “That’s the most fun I’ve had in years, actually.”

Nate twisted just enough to send a dead-eyed glare in Ethan’s direction. “Do not make me kill you early - I like you.”

Ethan grins up at him - suddenly somehow looking so much younger than before. “You won’t - you’re having fun, too.”

Nate rolled his eyes, twisting his heel a little deeper into the marred flesh, drawing a wheezing whimper from Elias’ throat before he finally pulled back.

He reached over Ethan, grabbing the jumper cables and ramming his own pocketknife further down Elias’ leg - only a little pleased that he missed any major veins and arteries. He would have been just as pleased if they hadn’t missed the important bits.

He barely even stopped to appreciate the strained, panting grunts that followed as he snapped the clamps into place - one on each blade. The weight of the cables pulled and tugged the knives against muscle, twisting free more space for the blood to flow out and drawing little mewling pants from Elias.

Nate figured he was done being tough now, then.

He cranked the dial on the dimmer up to seven.

Ethan raises an eyebrow at him.

Nate shrugged. “Scale of ten. Made it myself, so there’s no numbers. Set that, then switch turns it on.”

Ethan hums, standing with the dimmer and stepping back. “Alright. Ready, Elias?”

Elias twisted - horrified eyes snapping between the two of them. He stammered, drawing up the words. “B-uh - bu-but what if i-t kills m-e?”

Ethan looked to Nate.

Nate looked to Ethan.

Both shrugged.

Ethan flicked the dimmer up to 10 and slapped the switch on - hungry eyes not leaving Elias.

But Nate…..found himself unable to look away from Ethan.

Ethan didn’t blink as he watched. Nate could have hit him over the head with a baseball bat, and he wasn’t sure Ethan would have flinched. He was fixated. Wholly transfixed and enthralled as Elias’ screams and gagging, panting breaths filled the room.

Nothing bothered Ethan anymore.

He was so much bigger than before. Stronger. Harder. Hungry as Elias’ arms wrenched from socket. As his blood spilled onto the floor. As he choked on the blood his teeth drew from his tongue.

Ethan didn’t waver. He just twisted and danced the dimmer dial back and forth, blindly drawing out the best responses without looking away for a moment.

When it finally ended, Elias was limp on the ground. Either dead or unconscious. Muscles still spasming, but that didn’t mean anything.

Ethan stepped forward, nudging Elias with the toe of his shoe, drawing out no response.

Nate followed, pressing two fingers to his throat. The pulse was sluggish and thick, but still there.

He gave Ethan a single nod.

Ethan shrugged, pulling the hose from its place on the wall.

“Let’s wake him back up, then. I’m not done.”

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(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @paleassprince @jadeocean46910 @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @cryptidhongo @pickywhumpreader @cursedscribbles @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @shelfsdesires) (idk why that last one isn't working?)

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