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Hand stomp for Icarus?

With Bloody Outstretched Hands, Part 12: Hand Stomp

Thank you for your patience! Have Luke having a bad day.

CW: hand whump, prejudice against fictional group (superpowers), prejudice-motivated violence

Masterlist

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Luke was halfway through his PT exercises when Zera came into the gym like a stormcloud. He watched as they all but stomped their way over to the wall of gear while they roughly tugged off their mask. Zera ran one hand through their bright blue hair before donning a pair of boxing gloves, stalking to one of the punching bags, and beginning to attack it like it had insulted their entire family.

#with bloody outstretched hands #whump writing #hand stomp #hand whump #bad things happen bingo #bthb #hand stomp bthb #bthb card #bailey aka poppet #zera aka foxfire #bailey the villain #zera the hero #icarus the hero #luke aka icarus #hero villain whump #hero whumpee #villain whumper #all is not as it seems >:D #(to the characters. yall readers know what's up)

It was cruel but dramatic when Sissy stomped on

Geneva’s hand to make her fall into the pit on Blorgonnon.

#Inspector Spacetime #The Magician's Assistant (episode)#Hand Stomp (trope)#Hand Stomp #I Meant to Do That (trope)#I Meant to Do That #cruel but dramatic #Geneva Stilton (character)#Geneva (character)#Constable Geneva (character)#Geneva's hand #to make her fall #into the pit #fall into the pit #not the pit!#on Blorgonnon #Blorgonnon

Aesthetic: Hand Stomp

Fingers reaching desperately for a weapon. Fingers clutching frantically at a ledge. Fingers lunging towards a phone, a lock, the big red button on a ticking bomb.

A booted foot lands heavily, crushing fingers, a ragged scream torn from bitten lips.

A heel grinds down on broken fingers, a piercing wail, a grip slipping.

Another stomp - blood and blooming black and blue and bones twisted out of alignment. A final shriek, cut off by unconsciousness.

#whump aesthetic #hand stomp #imagine them crawling #imagine that last desperate lunge #and imagine the boot coming down with a crunch

Talvos, kidnapped I

@badthingshappenbingo ‘s Trope: Hand Stomp | Fandom: OC | Splatters = requested, checks = completed

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Usually, when people see Iesin and Talvos, their first reaction is to the fae. Talvos rarely merits more than a second glance, if that. Sometimes, pity is in those glances, regret for the human thralled by the wild fae. More often, it's hatred they give him, lumping him in with the creature he travels with.

So when the hand tugs at his elbow, one evening in another nameless village where he and Iesin have ventured in to buy supplies, Talvos turns sharply, hand dropping to his knife. The older man lets go of Talvos, but doesn't step away, instead leaning even closer and speaking quick and low.

"It's alright. You don't have to speak, just nod or shake your head. Do you want help getting away from that creature?"

Talvos pulls his head back and steps away, glancing up the row of stalls to Iesin, who peruses a selection of breads under a baker's narrow gaze. There's no need to upset him by making him aware of yet another human assuming the worst of him. "No," he says firmly. "I don't need any help. We're just passing through, please don't try to make a scene." For once, can't they just buy some food and keep moving?

The man nods sadly and steps away. "Alright," he says, words heavy with a meaning Talvos thinks he's supposed to read, but can't quite manage to unravel. "I understand." He moves away, giving Talvos a lingering look as he goes.

Talvos suppresses a shiver and quickens his pace to catch up to Iesin. He pays for the bread and for a stalk of brussel sprouts, swallowing the weary ire at the way the price rises for the trouble of selling to a fae, and splits the food with Iesin as they continue on out of the village. They can usually tell, by now, which towns would not tolerate them trying to get lodging for the night, and this is one of them. Besides, Talvos thinks as he packs his nearly-empty coin pouch away, if the price of food was any indication, they wouldn't have been able to afford a hay loft, much less an actual room.

Iesin picks the crust off of his half of the loaf as they walk, eating the crunchy exterior that he likes better first before he ventures into the softer middle. He sniffs the sprouts once, and makes a face as he offers them back to Talvos. "If you make a fire, I hunt," he says.

Talvos glances up at the first stars beginning to appear above them. "It's getting late, do you really want to tonight?"

"Hungry," Iesin says shortly. He glances over as Talvos' stomach growls audibly, and smiles, baring pointed teeth. "Greens for prey. Not enough for hunters."

Talvos laughs a little. "Alright. Let's find somewhere to camp, and I'll eat my prey food while you hunt."

A clearing soon provides an opportune spot, and Iesin helps set up their tent before lifting his wings and jumping into the sky. Talvos busies himself with building a ring of stones for a small fire, and then frying the sprouts in a little oil and salt.

The twig snapping is his first and only warning before they swarm out of the trees, three men and two women, and tackle him to the ground. Talvos kicks out against their weight, scrabbling for his knife.

"Hush, quick, come quietly!" someone hisses above him, even as a hand paws over his face, covering his mouth.

Talvos' fingers close over the hilt of his knife, and he yanks it up to bury it in the thigh straddling his waist. Someone shrieks and falls away. Another hand grabs his wrist and slams his hand against the ground. Talvos clings to the knife, fighting the grip. They slam his hand again, and then a boot stomps and two fingers crunch. This time when they grab for the knife he can't keep his grip.

"Stop fighting, this is a rescue!" There's a face above him, worried and angry. "We're getting you away from that creature!"

Talvos glares over the hand on his mouth. He doesn't want or need rescuing! Pain throbs hot and bright across his hand. This feels like an attack, not aid. He bucks under the knees and hands pinning him down again, listening to the moans of the one he stabbed with vindictive, petty satisfaction. He didn't ask for this - they should be grateful Iesin's not here.

The man trying to convince him huffs impatiently. "He's still thralled, get him up, we've got to get away before the fae comes back."

They flip Talvos over and bind his hands behind his back, muttering apologies that Talvos ignores. His hand spasms around the broken bones. He fights the gag they cram into his mouth, but they get it in anyway, and then they lash his ankles and knees and pick him up between two of them like an unruly sack of grain. Talvos searches the sky in vain as they carry him out of the clearing and into the trees. No sharp, tapered wings cut through the star-speckled sky above. No screech of outrage slices through the air in preface to Iesin's murderous descent. His beloved won't know where he went, won't know that he was taken. The trees swallow the sky, and Talvos' captors hurry deeper into the woods on their self-appointed mission of mercy.

#bad things happen bingo #whump #whump drabble #broken fingers #hand stomp #kidnapping #whoop here we go #mistaken rescue #with a lil slice of life preface #talvos #iesin

TFW you know something happens offscreen in your WIP, but then someone inspires you, and you have to write it anyway.

(Ahem @straight-to-the-pain this may be relevant to your interests.)

~~~

A was out of patience.

“Put him there and hold him,” he snapped, pointing down. B struggled against the men holding him, even after they’d kicked his feet out from under him, and one put a knee between his shoulderblades.

“I need you to tell me where it is,” A said with studious calm.

“I need you to go fuck yourself,” B retorted.

A sighed almost regretfully. “I don’t want to do this, but you’re not giving me much choice.” At a terse instruction, one of the men stoically forced one of B’s arms out to the side.

A leaned down and tapped B’s clenched fist. “Put your hand flat on the ground for me.”

B thrashed uselessly against the hands holding him, and his knuckles whitened.

A went to one knee and laid a hand on B’s head, ignoring his attempt to jerk away. “Here’s the thing, friend. If something hits your fist hard enough, it’s not going to break clean, is it? Those little bones are going to shatter. Might pop a few knuckles out of joint. That’s not getting fixed without surgery. Is that what you want?”

When there was no response, he deliberately closed his own fist in B’s hair and pulled up and back, until a strained, guttural noise forced its way out of B’s throat. “This question’s not a hard one. Is that what you want?”

“No,” B choked out through gritted teeth.

“Are you going to tell me where it is?”

B drew a shuddering breath. “No.”

“In that case,” A said softly, “you’d better put your hand flat on the ground.”

He stood up. Sweat beaded on the back of B’s neck. Slowly, his hand uncurled, to lie quivering on the floor.

“Wise choice,” said A, and slammed the heel of his boot down on the unprotected fingers.

Then again.

And again.

His men tightened their grip and leaned in harder as B screamed and writhed. A waited. When the screams had died down to pained, halting gasps, A spoke again. “Where is it, B? Where did you hide it?”

B’s face was an unhealthy pale splotched with red, but he blinked open glistening eyes and tilted his head to look up at A.

“F-fuck. You.”

#whump scenario #interrogation #defiance #hand whump #hand stomp #this is still going to be offscreen in my WIP #since it's a 1st person POV and my narrator isn't there #but now if you eventually read it you'll catch the reference #and yep i'm being vague about what A wants #spoilers etc

For BTHB, hand stomp? I'm a sucker for hostage situations with this trope tbh

Hi there! Here’s ‘hand stomp’! This features an OC I wrote about earlier, Carria, as well as a new one: Dossiel. This is the closest thing to a hostage situation I could come up with, so I hope you like it!