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One of my favorite tropes has got to be a sick villain waking up on the hero's couch, initially calm with the knowledge they're comfortable and being looked after, until they try and move and find their hands cuffed above them

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parasite whump !

this one may get a little intense so bear with me

but ough parasites are so good and also i think underutilized. very big fan of worms but other types of bugs are good too.

just the.. whumper threatening whumpee with it, to varying degrees of effect, from "holy shit they're not fucking around i better obey" to "ummm cool whatever but it could never happen to me" <- clueless

and then they bring it out and possibly scares the shit out of whumpee even more, bonus points if whumpee already hates bugs, and whumper is just revelling in their distress

and then.. the horror of it entering.. can be thru the mouth or skin or ears whatever.. personally a big fan of into the torso.. or even dropped into an open wound.. whumpee straining against their bonds, panicking and screaming

and then having to live with the wound (hurts real bad) and the knowledge that somewhere inside them is another creature who is inside and beneath the skin and burrowing around in there and won't even do whumpee the mercy of killing them, just vibing and eating away at them.. bonus points for weird stuff like the parasite lays eggs in there or it's magic and saps away at their strength they can feel it moving around. that's the good shit!!

have fun :3

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misunderstandings in other genres: 0/10, boring

misunderstandings in whump: 10000/10, perfect, wonderful, best trope

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70 minutes drawing theme eyeball-Ⅱ

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Laid out an article by @cowboy-anon written for @octopus-reactivated 's Pet Paper (which I love. Both the article and the magazine, I adore the whole idea of it). Original article available here.

@bbu-on-the-side

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drabble request: whumpee who doesn't know that their life isn't normal, because it's the only thing they've ever had. Maybe they were born into it or taken at such a young age that they don't remember but either way to them it's perfectly normal. Like they'd tell you in the most regular measured voice Well sure i don't deserve food unless I do good, I'm an object that's how it works. Of course they hurt me, how else am I doing to do better next time. (Bonus points for explaining this to a horrified Caretaker)

content: conditioned whumpee, rocky recovery

Whumpee stared at the full plate Caretaker had placed in front of them in confusion. They hadn’t been given tasks today — why was Caretaker rewarding one of their lazy days?

No, the food was probably not meant for them. Maybe they were supposed to guard it? Maybe Caretaker had placed it there for safekeeping. Maybe they were going to eat it in a bit.

“Is something the matter?” Caretaker asked, and Whumpee snapped back to the present, fully at attention.

“No, sir.”

Caretaker furrowed their eyebrows. “You like the food I prepared, right? Or did I make something you don’t like?”

“It’s perfectly fine sustenance, sir. I would love to earn it sometime, if that’s pleasing to you, sir.”

Caretaker only seemed more confused with every word. “Earn…? Whumpee, that’s yours. I prepared it for you.”

Now it was Whumpee’s turn to be confused. “For me? But I haven’t completed the necessary steps to earn it, sir. I assumed… I know I mustn’t assume, but I— I assumed you placed the food here for me to guard it…?”

“Whumpee, you’re not some dog.”

“Of course not, sir. I would never dream of putting myself on the same level as a beloved pet, sir. I know my place, sir.”

Caretaker swallowed audibly. “I’d like for you to have dinner with me. Even if you don’t think you’ve earned it.”

Whumpee even stopped breathing for a moment. The appetising dinner morphed into a death trap in front of them, and they suddenly felt nauseous. “Sir?”

“Go on. Have a few bites.”

The orders they had received were in clear opposition to their conditioning, and Whumpee would’ve rather killed themself than detangle that mess. Their latest order was always to be obeyed. But their latest order was wrong. It was just so, so wrong.

Whumpee was shaking now. They couldn’t look away from the food. They hadn’t earned it. They hadn’t. They hadn’t, they hadn’t, they hadn’t—

“Whumpee?” Caretaker reached across the table and took them by the hand, and Whumpee flinched violently. “Hey. It’s just me.”

“Yes, sir. I apologise, sir.”

“Maybe we don’t… force the dinner thing tonight. If it’s too distressing for you.”

Whumpee let out a sigh of relief, although their muscles were still tense from having disobeyed an order. It was easier to go against Caretaker than their conditioning. Much, much easier. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do better tomorrow, sir. I swear it.”

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hostage by Stefan Mihai Toma

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Routine

It's late afternoon. Whumper wandered around the mall, grabbed this and that; filling their cart with groceries. Thinking about Whumpee at home too, and what they should cook for dinner. Truly a busy person. Whumper got in line to pay for their things. Scanning all the people inside the mall. Hm, not interesting enough for their liking. Maybe they should stop doing whatever they were doing before—

Oh. A Chinese girl, with her mom. Short hair, innocent face, and a loose…shirt. Her collarbone…she looks vulnerable. Her shoulders must look pretty too…

Okay, stop staring you creep! But maybe, just a little more. It wouldn't hurt.

Aww, she's helping her mother. How kind. The desire to pinch her cheeks…maybe to take care of her too. To make her as vulnerable as she can be. 

Put her in a dress where her shoulders and collarbone and thighs could be exposed. But just that, I'm not interested in other things. Maybe place her on my lap, patting her thighs and playing with her hair. Would she mind? 

Would I prefer her to be silent or giggle during that? It's between that. I want her to stay still like a doll, but at the same time I want her to be alive. Okay, since when have I had these  weird thoughts??

Ah, okay, she's leaving. Bye-bye sweetheart. 

Whumper placed their groceries on the counter. Waiting for the cashier to scan and tell them the price. They flashed a warm smile too, just to be friendly with people. And not just some cold blooded monster who torture someone everyday and night. 

Whumper walked out of the mall. They made their way to the bus station. It's not like they didn't have a car or something, they just wanted to observe people around them. They sat on the bench, waiting for the bus. There's a young man beside them. Whumper glanced at them before they froze. 

Probably in his 20s, brown hair, pointed nose. Short navy pants and a white shirt. And ah, his Adam's…apple. It looks enchanting. Unguarded…exposed…perfect to be licked. Or bite, so so hard until it crush. How would he scream then? What sounds would come out from that pretty mouth?

And the blood. It would slide down across his torso. Soaking his white shirt. What a sight to behold. And oh God, his veins. Spreading from his wrists to his elbows, like tree roots. If only I could—

Oh man, he's leaving! Not fair…

The bus arrived and Whumper waited for the others to get in first. They sat on the last row of the seats. Before the bus could start moving again, someone entered in a rush. Another young man, black hair, white skin. He was shirtless, sweat trickling down his skin. Probably back from the gym. There's no seats left in the bus so he just stood in the middle, fingers gripping hard on the bus holder.

Pretty. Why is he so pretty? The way he's panting. The freckles on his face…it's aching to be poked with a needle. His necklace, how it would be more beautiful with a large collar. And those pretty lips, begging to be kissed and bit. 

Whumper gripped the palm of their hands tightly. They needed to calm down. They have Whumpee at home. Gotta be loyal to them. 

Calm down, calm down, calm—

Did he just wink at me?! Okay, you've got this. Just smirk back at him. Act cool. 

Good. 

Maybe he noticed someone's staring at him. Ah, pretty face, let me stare at you longer. Let me imagine how nice it would feel to grab your hair and yank it harshly. Or how you would scream, the sounds of your pleadings, I want to relish it all.

I want to brand your soft skin, playing with your muscles, seeing them tense up at the mere touch of my hands.

The bus stopped and Whumper watched the young man get off the bus. They squealed silently inside when he waved them goodbye as the bus started moving again.

~

Whumper arrived at their house. Unlocking the door before they passed through the living room to the kitchen. They placed the groceries bag on the table before they got ready to cook for dinner.

"Shh…" Whumper said without looking up at the person who was tied up and gagged on the chair. His quiet whimpers filled up the room. Tears trickled down his face as he watched Whumper with a knife on their hand, cutting down the onions and vegetables.

If only he didn't wink at them.

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That one pet whump trope where Whumpee is renamed by Whumper to something probably cute or just plain stupid, and Whumpee clings to their real name to at least keep a bit of their true identity, but then they end up slowly forgetting their real name over time, and once they finally do they panick about it.

And then maybe Whumpee has been conditioned for so long that Whumper is able to convince them that their name was always whatever they’d named Whumpee.

THATS some good shit right there.

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Whumper testing the limits of an immortal Whumpee.

A cut, then a burn, then a severed tongue. A fatal shot, a cup of poison, the snap of a noose gone taut. Whumper tries all of this and more, but Whumpee cannot die—at least, they cannot seem to stay that way. No matter how much they might want to.

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Whump when it's subtle and all about the small things

Whumpee has been with Whumper for so long, keeping them company it's almost become casual. They sit and watch TV together, talk about their day. But the dynamic is not lost, maybe to an unaware onlooker it is, but the small things are there. Whumpee sitting on the floor instead of the couch. Moving in sync with Whumper, anticipating their needs, they don't even have to command Whumpee to do things for them. Subtle reinforcements worked into casual conversation, Whumper saying no to Whumpee, and they accept it without a question. Whumpee wearing a necklace with a small locket in it, it's almost fashionable. Whumpee making dinner for one with a horribly grumbling stomach. Whumper nonchalantly giving Whumpee permission to do something essential for their wellbeing.

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Idea I've been rotating in my brain nonstop lately is a living weapon and their handler having like a weirdly loving relationship.

Affectionately cuddling but never losing sight of the understanding that orders matter more than wants. Gently tending to their wounds and cleaning them after a battle/mission/etc. but never acknowledging that they might be a person. It's obvious they both care about each other a lot but the handler still calls the weapon "it" and the weapon still calls the handler "sir." Do you see my vision

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absolutely criminal how falling into bad habits is the easiest thing in the world while developing positive habits feels like fighting a literal war

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being aromantic and into whump is like. shoutout to whump for being a great opportunity to engage with stories about intimacy and vulnerability and powerful emotion and physical interactions with other people and intense relationships that are not presumptively based in romance. what would i do without you.

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sensory deprivation..

whumpee is put into a clean sterile white room. there's no sound, there's nothing to or see or sense whatsoever, aside from themselves. maybe they're even given numbing drugs

eventually they get excited for whumper's torture sessions because at least it means something is happening, and maybe the blood is nice because at least it's not white.

or maybe they're blindfolded and given earplugs so they can't even hear themselves scream. maybe for a long time their only experiences are discomfort and pain and they're easily overwhelmed when they get out---even a whisper might be too much for them, and they'll never be the same..

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Alright, pardon me for drawing whump inspiration from weird places like a college lab class, but some types of rock, such as marble, sizzle when they come into contact with hydrochloric acid. Which brings me to...

Whumpee is a sentient marble statue. Maybe they were a person who was turned into a statue with a petrification spell, or maybe they were a statue that was cursed with sentience somehow. Either way, they're trapped in this form for the time being.

Though most people have no clue Whumpee is alive, Whumper finds out and takes full advantage of this, torturing Whumpee with hydrochloric acid. It burns and they can't do a thing to stop it. Over time, the acid starts to wear down the stone, and Whumpee can only imagine what a bloody mess their flesh will be if they are ever turned back.

Or, alternatively, Caretaker is trying to figure out what happened to them, and they use hydrochloric acid to test what kind of stone Whumpee is. Caretaker would never hurt Whumpee on purpose, but they're completely unaware that Whumpee can feel every single drop that touches them. Whether they know that Caretaker means no harm, or think that Caretaker is deliberately hurting them, Whumpee can't help but feel a bit nervous about Caretaker from then on.

Whumpee is utterly helpless, forced to hold perfectly still as the burning liquid is splashed onto them. They can't flinch, can't scream, can't cry. Their face is still frozen in the exact same expression they've always had as a statue. And they hate it.

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🩶Caretaker Forced to Whump🩶

This idea has had my full attention lately.

Caretaker is in disguise, infiltrating Whumper's inner circle to try to free whumpee. Or it's illegal to help someone in whumpee's position. Or they're being watched by Whumper, who will hurt whumpee even more if they think someone had the gall to show kindness to their favorite punching bag.

So Caretaker pretends to enjoy being cruel to whumpee. They torment them, but just slightly less than Whumper would, trying to slip a hidden moment of kindness into the mix whenever they can. Maybe Caretaker hates hurting people, and every moment is tearing out their heart. Or maybe Caretaker has a sadistic side, and would love to see whumpee on their knees in other, more consensual circumstances, but has to keep those thoughts at bay for now. Either way, there's tension! There's inner conflict! There's morally grey decisions being made!

Meanwhile, Whumpee has no idea that Caretaker has any interest in helping them. Caretaker seems like just yet another torturer. Or maybe they have some suspicions - was that whipping less painful on purpose, or is Caretaker just not as good at whippings as Whumper? Or maybe they notice the moments of kindness, but think Caretaker has ulterior motives.

And then, the sudden reveal: Caretaker is actually on their side! But how can whumpee trust them after everything they've done? Sure, it was "just for show," but it still happened, and their body still flinches away from Caretaker by instinct. Or maybe whumpee already had confusing feelings of trust for Caretaker that they couldn't explain, and now everything makes sense. Maybe, now that they're both on the same page and forming a plan, they're an unstoppable pair.

P.S. If you like this idea, you should read my 26 stanza Astarion poem/fic, which no one asked for.