lonesome--hunter

[lonesome--hunter]

Things that are whumpy if you play it right

Boots

Content: beating, restraints, multiple whumpers

Stomping whumpee's chest until they gasp out all their air

Using whumpee's bootlaces to tie their feet together without even having to take off their shoes

Boot on face as a threat to break whumpee's neck

Whumpee, beaten on the floor and unable to move as whumper walks up and their boots come into where whumpee can see them, stopping ominously in front of their face.

Heeled crotch-stomp.

Threatening whumpee by raising a booted foot and making them flinch back, afraid to be kicked

Whumpee flat on the ground, pinned. Boots crushing and scraping skin off whumpee's wrists and ankles by the goons that are holding them down for whumper to beat them.

[lonesome--hunter]

the thing is that boys belong in cages. people will try to tell you there are other places you should keep your boy but they're wrong. boys belong in cages. it's their natural place. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[lonesome--hunter]

More NSFWhump dialogue prompts

Again most can be for other things, but I had noncon in mind

"Eyes on me, sweetheart."

"I can make it feel good, if you let me."

"Pretty little doll."

"Shh... don't fight it..."

"I only need to squeeze a little harder, watch the life drain from those pretty eyes..."

"I will make you scream for me to stop. And I still won't. Because you belong to me, and I decide when to stop."

"The sooner you learn your place, the easier this will be."

"I should have you on your knees more often. It suits you."

"Smile for the camera."

"You look beautiful in these pictures. It would be a shame to keep them all to ourselves, wouldn't it?"

"Wear this for me."

"No, please don't show them! I'll- I'll be good, just please don't..."

"People love you. Let's keep this up, hmm?"

"What do you want to play with tonight? Go on, you can choose. Or I will, and you won't like it."

"I just can't make up my mind. How about we try all of them?" "N-no please-"

"I- I think I'm bleeding..." "Good. Maybe that means you've learned your lesson."

"Aw, baby don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

"Put on a show for us, darlin'."

"No no, don't try and stay quiet... I want to hear every pain, every pleasure."

"Are you all right?" "Don't- don't look at me!"

"If I wanted to fuck a corpse, I'd kill you. I'm giving you the chance to enjoy it, but I'll make you scream if I must."

"My friends are coming over later. I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

"Please, I'm so tired..."

"We made a deal, remember? Now get on your knees. Or I'll take more than we bargained for."

"Can we at least do it on the bed...?"

"I want you sober for this."

"Haven't you taken enough from me?"

"I've learned my lesson, pl-please, I- I'll behave..." "If you had, you wouldn't be talking to me like that."

"Over here, now. You don't want me to drag you."

"They sang like this too, you know."

[lonesome--hunter]

🥰 Whumpee who lets themselves be restrained 🥰

When they obediently cross their arms behind their back, and don't fight back as Whumper ties them together, even as a lone tear slips down their cheek. When they outstretch their wrists for Whumper to lock the cuffs around. Slacking their jaw and opening their mouth for the gag, or closing their eyes as the blindfold slips around their eyes...

...Yeah 🫶

[lonesome--hunter]

whumper dialogue: forced to watch trope

To a character whose loved one has been missing: "What is it you said - the worst part has been the not knowing? Not knowing what's happening to them? That must have been so hard. Well, now that you're here, I'd be happy to show you."

"Can you guess what's about to happen? Hm?"

"Come on, Whumpee - let's give them a show."

To a character begging to be hurt instead - “Don’t worry, you’re still gonna get what’s coming to you. But you’re gonna watch this first.”

“I’m choking them. And I’m not gonna stop until you look.”

to a character who physically cannot reach their loved one and whumper knows this - “You hear that? You hear how scared they are? I bet they want you to come save them. Why don't you come help them, huh? That’s what you wanted to do, isn’t it?"

Also - "Look at you, so useless. They need your help, Caretaker, and what are you doing?"

“Huh….I guess you can’t stop me.”

“Didn’t I tell you, no one can save you? I was right, huh? They're right there, and they still can’t stop me.”

When Caretaker tries to tell Whumpee everything will be okay - “Now, don’t lie to them. What about this is okay? Hm?"

“What a nice little reunion this is.”

“Not feeling so tough anymore, huh? Well, maybe if you ask me nicely enough, I’ll stop.”

"Now, Caretaker, calm down. Whumpee and I are just trying to bond."

[lonesome--hunter]

you know how when you struggle to write a chapter and it gets to the point where you can't even tell if it's any good?

well, i'm trying to put a cushion in between "alive" and "party" because when ur reading it as a single book and not just getting updates every few days, it is a pretty jarring shift, and there's not room for the aftermath of all the trauma buck just went through.

thomas pointed out that i can post it and see how people respond, which is true. i've been trying not to post everything so there's some incentive to buy the book if i ever get it published but also....... you've read the story already lmao.

anyway this is that, here it is. let me know if it's shit for realsies i need to know.

Buck stayed in his room so long the next day that Fletcher ended up bursting in without knocking. 

He had been lying on his back in bed, trying to move as little as possible, but the sudden intrusion made him jolt upright, causing a stab of pain in his side.

“Oh,” Fletcher said, stance relaxing slightly. “I got it in my head that you might have died.”

“What?”

“Delayed drowning, or slipped into a coma from a concussion,” Fletcher shrugged.

With an exhale, Buck resumed his position, lying flat on his back with his hands folded over his stomach. Fletcher studied him for a moment.

“You good?” they asked.

Buck paused before responding, “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Fletcher grumbled something unintelligible under their breath and left the room.

Buck spent the next two days much the same. Sometimes he read a book, but often he couldn’t find a comfortable position, nor focus on retaining the words. Sometimes he stood and paced the room just to move, but he tired of that quickly. Mostly he just stared at the ceiling.

Fletcher came in again, this time offering the briefest of warning knocks.

“Do you want to die, Buck?”

This made Buck sit up quickly, the pain in his side a slightly duller thud.

“No,” Buck said urgently.

“Then why are you acting like you’re dead?” Fletcher demanded. 

Buck sighed and laid back down.

“You haven’t left your room in days,” Fletcher said.

“I’ve left my room,” Buck countered in a small voice.

Fletcher’s features twisted in frustration.

“I wasn’t being fucking literal,” they growled. “I would hope not, anyway. I haven’t seen you out of your room in days. Are you eating?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“At night.”

“Are you only eating once a day?” Fletcher asked. “Or are you stashing food in here?”

Buck tapped his finger against the back of his hand nervously.

“Is that… not allowed?”

Fletcher made an exasperated noise.

“I don’t care, as long as you don’t get ants. Look. You gotta get up,” they said. “I’m not making you do chores because I know you need to recover, but it’s not good to waste away in bed either.”

You didn’t seem concerned when you had me chained up in here, Buck thought, but didn’t say. 

“Come with me,” Fletcher ordered.

With great effort, Buck forced himself out of bed and followed Fletcher through the house. They passed the trainees in the living room who were sitting around a pile of locks, racing to see who could pick them the fastest. 

Fletcher led them to the kitchen, where an array of jars were set out, most of them filled with dried plant material.

“Help me make tea blends,” Fletcher said. They took a seat and gestured for Buck to do the same. “Do you drink tea?”

Buck settled into the chair with some hesitancy.

“Mm, not really,” Buck said. He picked up one of the jars that looked to be filled with dry flower buds. There was a piece of masking tape on the glass with “chamomile” written in marker. 

“Just pick flavors you think will go together,” Fletcher said. “Black teas are caffeinated, green teas are less caffeinated, herbal and fruit are not. Chamomile makes you sleepy.”

Buck sifted through a few more jars. Some of them he did not recognize.

“Uh, I don’t really know…”

“You can ask me what they are or what they taste like,” Fletcher said, already scooping the contents of one jar into another. “Just have fun with it; don’t worry too much about it. Oh, but write down what you’re using.”

They pointed at a roll of masking tape and a couple markers sitting on the table.

Buck picked up a jar of dried orange peels, holding it dubiously as he scanned the other options. There was a jar of vanilla pea pods. That would be good, right? Like a creamsicle. He slid that jar over to him as well. That wasn’t exactly tea, though. He hesitantly picked up a jar labeled Darjeeling. That was… a tea. That’s about all he knew. It appeared to be a black tea; would that be too strong? Would a green tea be better? What tea flavors go with orange?

“Um, what do you… think I should make with orange and vanilla?” Buck asked.

“It’s an experiment, Buck,” Fletcher said without looking up from their work. “Just make a small batch and try it.”

Buck took out a few of the orange peel pieces and dropped them into an empty jar, along with a full vanilla pod. He took a scoop of the Darjeeling, then paused. There was a jar of what looked like grass clippings. He unscrewed the lid and took a sniff. It was labeled sencha. Probably green tea? He added a scoop of that too, to balance out the black. Because why not. 

Buck shook the contents of the jar and examined it. He added a few more orange peels, then a cinnamon stick. It didn’t exactly look like tea. 

“Is this, um..?” 

Buck held the jar up for Fletcher to see.

“Sure,” they said. “What’s in it?”

“Uh…” Buck gathered the jars back up and read off their labels.

“Hm.” There was a hint of a smile on Fletcher’s features. “Make sure to label it so we don’t forget.”

Buck scribbled down the ingredients, putting each one on its own strip of tape in case something got swapped out as the recipe was refined. He watched Fletcher as they mixed their ingredients with confidence.

“You clearly know what you’re doing more than I do,” Buck said. “So, maybe it’d be better if I, um, didn’t interfere.”

Fletcher looked up at him. “Are you asking to go back to your room?”

Buck swallowed and nodded.

Fletcher blew a breath out their nose, turning their attention back to their work.

“Fine. Get some food first.”

Buck [grabbed food and went back to his room] [obvs i gotta write this better you can only ask so much of me rn it's a draaaaaaaft]

Buck jumped when he heard a banging at his door. 

It wasn’t too loud, or too angry, but it was different than the normal knock. Deeper and… lower?

The kicking came again.

“Buck, open the door,” Fletcher called to him. “My hands are full.”

Buck scrambled up from the bed to let Fletcher in. They were carrying a steaming mug in each hand.

“I made a tester of your tea,” they said, walking in past him. “And for fun, I made a variation of it that I thought might work better. This one’s yours.”

They held a mug out. Buck took a trepidacious sip. It was… a lot.

Fletcher laughed under their breath at Buck’s grimace and swapped mugs so he could try their version. This one had a much smoother, balanced flavor. Ultimately, to him, all tea just tasted like tea. But he could still find the taste of orange, vanilla, and cinnamon. He took another sip.

“Not bad, huh?” Fletcher said.

Buck nodded and waited silently. Fletcher looked over the contents of the first mug as if debating what to do with it, or as if they needed something to do with their eyes and hands.

“Is there a reason you’re being nice to me now?” Buck asked. “After you nearly killed me?”

Fletcher shrugged and said easily, “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

Buck tapped his fingers against the side of his mug. 

“Hard to keep up with,” he muttered. 

“Well, when I stop beating up on you, that means I’m done being mad,” Fletcher supplied helpfully. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Buck said, not meeting their eyes.

“I’m serious about you not wasting away in your room,” Fletcher said.

“I understand that I’ll still have chores,” Buck responded. 

“I mean in general. You’re allowed to watch TV and shit. Go read a book outside or something.”

Buck shrugged, keeping his gaze down.

“Weather’s not too good for it anymore.”

“Oh,” Fletcher said, as if remembering something. They left the room abruptly and returned a few minutes later carrying a heavy work coat, which they held out to Buck.

Buck reached out with slow reverence. He ran his hand over the waxed canvas, and his dad’s name embroidered on the breast. 

“Where did you get this?” Buck asked in a low voice.

“Your apartment.”

Buck swallowed. “When?”

“Shortly after you got here.”

“And you just… kept it somewhere?” Buck asked. “Why give it to me now?”

Fletcher shrugged. “I hadn’t made many decisions yet in the early days.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Buck said. It was a familiar sentiment these days.

“Like I didn’t totally know who you were or if it was smart to keep you, but it was a nice coat, so I would have kept it otherwise.”

Buck’s face twitched in anger. It was as much of a reaction as he had energy for.

“It has my dad’s fucking name on it,” he couldn’t help but growl out. His eyes stayed fixed on the coat in his hands.

“Okay? Would you rather it get thrown out?”

That gave Buck pause. He had been holding on to this idea of getting back to his apartment, but he hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences of not being around to pay rent. All of his belongings - had they ended up on the curb? Or impounded as evidence in his disappearance case? What else had Fletcher taken and kept hidden from him somewhere?

Fletcher reached out and poked Buck in the forehead, causing him to flinch back and look up at Fletcher wide eyed.

“Don’t shut down,” they ordered him.

Buck blinked at them. “I thought you wanted me to, like, stop fighting you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t fight me,” Fletcher scoffed. “But the reason I kept you in the first place was because I admired your tenacity for survival. You were doing all the right things despite the pain. Seemed a shame to kill you. But if you give up and waste away then what’s the point?”

Buck looked down again. In a small, half-muttering voice, he said, “If you keep threatening to kill me it’ll eventually lose its effect.”

That made Fletcher laugh.

“Okay, fair. I don’t want to kill you unless you really give me a reason to. Like, if you try to kill me again, I’m probably not gonna let it be a three strikes situation. It’d be pretty stupid of me to let you keep trying, you know?”

Buck bounced his leg.

“You kept me for my tenacity for survival?” he echoed.

“Mhm,” Fletcher responded. No further explanation.

“You… are a very difficult person to understand.”

“You know, I’ve gotten that before,” Fletcher said. “Though less diplomatically. But I feel like everything I do makes perfect sense.”

(just gonna put the ol' taglist here)

@lonesome--hunter @spook-queen @victimeyez @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername

@whump-only @misspelledwitch  @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @whumpinggoodtime @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @pretty-face-breaker

@cursedandtired @aqua-blogging

[lonesome--hunter]

Køter

[lonesome--hunter]

Finder - Vol.10 Ch.3,4 (ch 83,84)

[lonesome--hunter]

[lonesome--hunter]

how r u doing friend?🩷 i have my catholic confirmation tomorrow and i'm really nervous, so that's what's going on in my life lol i'm looking forward to the celebratory dinner afterwards in the italian restaurant next to the church...

Congratulations bb I'm sure you did great!

Oooooo what did you get to eat?

[lonesome--hunter]

can we get some more mer jer stuff before mermay ends 🥺

shipwrecks are usually a good thing for captive mer...

[lonesome--hunter]

[lonesome--hunter]

[lonesome--hunter]

[lonesome--hunter]

barbed wire bindings

the trick is to leave them overnight like this

[lonesome--hunter]

peace and quiet. 🖤

Poll winner was the shock collar~ luckily had this painting sitting around and he’s one of my favorites 🖤

[lonesome--hunter]

"...he knew what they were going to do the moment he laid eyes on the post. He’d seen men be punished there before, but he never imagined he’d be the one pushed to his knees or feel those manacles lock around his wrists. Those feelings though, he could have guessed what they were like. But the whip?

The whip was beyond imagining."

— *Wordless Screaming*

There was no resisting when I came upon this quiet moment of anticipation during my reread, I just had to draw him still covered in blood from his *AHEM* incident, waiting for that first crack of the whip.

Nemi, do me a favor and put Erebus through even more unimaginable pain. The poor, broken little prince deserves it <3