#Whumper will hate Whumpee 1

[shywhumpauthor]

Today is a “tell myself I’m going to write but never actually commit to writing” kinda day

[reds-whump-prompts]

Underrated Hostage Tropes

1) The “You’ll do” hostage Whumper has come to target one of Caretaker’s loved ones, but finds Whumpee instead. “Not who I was looking for, but you’ll do.”

2) The ‘grabbed in the heat of battle’ hostage When Whumper grabs Whumpee and holds them at weapon-point, a furious battle slams to a halt.

3) The unaware hostage Whumpee trying desperately to act normal and not give the game away, knowing that Whumper can hurt an unsuspecting Caretaker any time they choose.

4) The ‘maybe I don’t hate you’ hostage Whumpee and Caretaker have been at each other’s throats from the second they met, only for Caretaker to be unexpectedly panicked when Whumpee is threatened.

5) The self-sacrificial hostage Whumpee holds themself hostage, knowing they have information that Whumper can’t afford to lose. 

[whumptea]

so sick and tired of people hating on lady whump. give me your lady whumpees slouching against a brick wall, drugged and dazed as they try to make their way home. give me girls covered in blood — whether it be their own or someone else’s. give me lady whumpees who thrash and scream and fight against their restraints. who spit poison at their captors. who cry and beg and plead and kick. i’m so goddamn tired of women in whump either always 1. being the whumper, or 2. being forced into these soft, docile stereotypes that prevent them from expressing anything but. give me more lady whumpees or give me death.

[serickswrites]

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait II

Part 1 Part 3

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, wounds

The only thing that kept Whumpee from passing out was the scream that ripped from their throat. "GOD, PLEASE!" Whumpee screamed, no longer caring if Whumper thought that was boring. They needed the pain to stop.

Whumper chuckled. "You think that's going to stop this?"

Whumpee was shaking. They were pinned to the chair by nails through both hands and their right shoulder. "I....I...I....," they swallowed. They couldn't think straight. All they could think about was the pain and the blood rolling down their body. They weren't sure they could hold on for Caretaker.

"Tell you what, Whumpee. I think one more nail will hold you. But that would be boring. And you know what will happen if I get bored."

Whumpee swallowed and nodded. "I'll...I'll...b-b-be torrrrt-t-tured-d-d."

Whumper beamed. "Exactly. You were listening. Good on you." Whumper lowered the nail gun. "But I think if I add another nail or two before your shoulder, or after, then I won't be as likely to be bored."

Two more nails. Two more nails besides the one more already promised. Whumpee closed their eyes and breathed through their nose sharply as they willed themself to stay fully conscious. "Where?"

"I was thinking I could nail your feet to the floor here. It's wood, so the nail will go through. What do you think? I don't have to, but that would be less entertaining."

"O-O-Ok." Whumpee whispered. They just needed to buy Caretaker more time. More time. Or at least a painless death. Either were fine by Whumpee at this point.

Whumper raised the nail gun once more, positioning it over Whumpee's foot. "Remember, Whumpee, I'll make your death painless if you don't pass out."

Whumpee nodded and gritted their teeth, bracing for the pain. But as Whumper squeezed the trigger and the nail went through their foot, Whumpee realized there was no way to brace for this pain. "PLEASE!" They shrieked.

Whumper frowned as they lifted the nail gun. "Don't be boring, Whumpee. Begging is boring. You would hate to find out what I have planned if you bore me."

Tags: @theelvishcowgirl @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @lil-klaus

[a-living-canvas]

Heyy!! I wanted to ask if you could maybe write a part two of absolute obedience? It was the first post of yours that I saw and I love it.

If not that’s totally fine I love all of your writing you’re amazing. I hope you have a wonderful day or night <3

I hope you enjoy this! <333

Part 1

Absolute Obedience II

Whumpee kneeled on the floor, chin resting on Whumper's lap as Whumper carding their fingers through their hair. They weren't really focused on the television, their minds were full of thoughts. About work, family and…Whumpee.

Their loyal pet.

Whumper felt content with Whumpee's obedience. But something had been missing since they started behaving nicely. The torture, the adrenaline rush, and the blood. Whumpee had been too good for Whumper's liking. Their fingers were itching with desperation to hurt.

"Whumpee?"

Whumpee immediately looked up at Whumper, hands on their lap as they waited patiently for Whumper's command. They were ready to please them. So so ready that it made Whumper's eye twitch in frustration. "Yes, master?"

Whumper thought for a moment, they patted Whumpee's head. "You are so obedient to me. I like that about you." Whumper pulled their hand back. "But that's also the very same reason why I started to hate you now."

Whumpee's eyes widened. Their mouths parted slightly in disbelief. After all this time they obeyed Whumper…it's all for nothing?

"H-hate me, Master?"

Whumper nodded. "Hate you. So if you want me to love you again, you need to be an insolent brat so I can punish you."

That doesn't sound so bad. "W-what should I do, Master?"

Whumper pondered for a moment before leaning down and opened the lock on Whumpee's collar. They took it off from Whumpee's neck and chuckled at the sight of a dark ring forming on their skins.

Whumpee looked up at Whumper again, confused by their actions. "Master…?"

Whumper leaned back on the couch. "Go, pet. Go escape."

Huh?

Whumpee stayed still, not moving even an inch. They were still confused, what did they do wrong that made Whumper want to kick them out like this? They didn't understand…

"Didn't you hear what I just said?"

Whumper asked, slightly annoyed. They peered down at Whumpee, their big puppy eyes staring back at them. Whumper huffed out a sigh, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Whumpee scooted closer to Whumper, rubbing their cheeks against their legs. "Master…" They whined.

Whumper's frown deepened. "What are you doing? I asked you something earlier, right?"

Whumpee shook their heads quickly, hugging Whumper's leg. "Don't wanna…don't wanna go…I wanna stay with…Master…" Whumpee took the collar off the ground and tried to wrap it around their necks again when Whumper snatched it from their hands and pushed them away.

They stood up, their gaze hardened at Whumpee. "What is your problem, huh?"

Whumpee flinched at their cold voice. They backed away as Whumper slowly walked towards them. "Can't you even do a simple task?" Whumper cornered them against the wall as he crouched down in front of Whumpee, tipping their chins up.

 

"Why won't you leave me? Why won't you escape?"

Tears rolled down Whumpee's cheeks as they stammered out. "I-I don't want to leave..I-I love…m-master…"

Whumper scoffed in disbelief. They released Whumpee's chin, looking at them carefully before letting out a soft chuckle. Whumper shook their heads.

"Does it feel good being mine?"

"Y-yes…! Yes…"

Whumper hummed. They thought for a moment, poking Whumpee's chin with their index finger. "You know what? I just realised I don't have to find a reason to punish you. I can just do it because you belong to me."

Whumper tugged Whumpee forward, whispering right beside their ear. "Do you want me to punish you, pet?"

Whumpee nodded without hesitation. "Y-yes…"

"Beg."

"P-please…punish me, Master…"

Whumper grinned in satisfaction. They stood up, holding Whumpee's hand as they brought them to the restroom. "Let's start with something simple." Whumper said, pushing the restroom's door open as they both stepped in.

Whumper opened the toilet lid and pointed their finger to the floor at Whumpee. "Kneel, pet."

The latter obeyed instantly, letting their knees touch the cold tile floor as they were facing the toilet seat. Whumper stood behind Whumpee, and before they could ask a question, Whumper grabbed the back of their heads and shoved it inside the toilet bowl.

Whumpee gurgled and thrashing desperately, fingers gripping tight on the sides of the stool. "Mmh…mmh!"

Whumper chuckled, they pulled them to the surface for a second before pushing them back in. "How about you get a little taste of it, pet?" Whumper inquired, a smile on their faces.

"O-okay…"

Whumper hummed in approval as Whumpee started drinking the water in the toilet bowl. "Keep struggling, pet. Keep struggling…"

~

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @htavin87 @risk606 @heyyitsworld

[silencedvoices]

June of Doom Day 1

"Help me." | Failed escape | On the run | Fetal Position

Cw: medical whump, needles, restraints

Whumpee contently sighs while slowly opening their eyes, squinting at the bright hospital lights. Their eyes widen as they see an IV sticking out of their arm.

Nononono. This cannot be happening again.

Whumpee starts hyperventilating, tears welling up in their eyes. Without a second thought they reach to pull the needle out, but their arms won't move. They look closer to see they are tied down to the bed. They start thrashing around frantically trying to escape the restraints.

"Where am I?" They couldn't possibly be back with whumper. "Help me!"

Caretaker comes running into the room. Their heart drops as they see whumpee thrashing around with a look of pure terror on their tear streaked face.

"What's wrong whumpee? You're in the hospital, you're safe." Caretaker runs over to whumpee's bedside gently pushing the hair out of their face.

"W-why is there an IV? Why am I tied down?" Whumpee's voice breaks, trying but failing to hold back their tears.

Caretaker grabs whumpees hand, gently rubbing circles on their palm. "I know you hate needles, but you need the IV to stay healthy. I didn't want to have to tie you down either, but everytime you wake up you keep trying to pull the IV out and escape. Don't worry. It's for your own safety ."

"So you're sure you're not drugging me or anything."

"No whumpee, of course not."

"I promise I'll be good. Just- take the restraints off. Please? It... reminds me too much of whumper."

Caretaker's heart breaks again at that. They don't understand what kind of monster could hurt whumpee like this. "I'm sorry but the doctor said to leave them on until we can be sure you won't act out. Can I trust you won't try to run out again?"

"Yes. I won't try anything again."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

Caretaker sighs, "Okay."

Whumpee calms down quickly as caretaker undoes the restraints. Whumpee is still frightened by the IV, but they tell themself they'll get used to it eventually.

"Thank you caretaker," whumpee says with a wobbly smile.

Caretaker smiles back warmly.

Whumpee curls into a ball under the sheets, careful not to mess with the IV. Caretaker stays by their side running their fingers through whumpee's hair until they fall into a peaceful sleep. This is going to be a long recovery, but caretaker promises to be by whumpee's side every step of the way.

[whump-mania]

Alright, here's my idea.

A whumper couple "fighting" over their whumpee, both of them wanting to torment them in their own ways (one can be a brute force trauma type whumper and the other can be a more creepy mind games whumper, i like that pairing) and Whumpee cant figure out if they're glad that they're being "saved" from the other or if they're more terrified that they're being fought over since the whumpers are getting increasingly violent and theyre afraid one might kill the other to keep them forever, and if that happens than it'll be a nightmare either way cause both whumpers are awful

(Thanks for the request!

TWs for cursing, fade to black beating/torture, mentioned drugging, creepy whumper (sfw))

“You’re putting too much thought into it. Just beat them,” Whumper 1 complained in an annoyed tone.

Whumper 2 circled Whumpee’s unconscious form like they were prey, thinking of all the ways they could make their life miserable. Many of the ways didn’t even involve touching Whumpee at all.

“You’re never any fun,” Whumper 2 chided. “You’re not considering how satisfying it is to play into fear,” they said cooly.

“We’re not here to play,” Whumper 1 said gruffly. “We’re here to retrieve information.” They pushed past Whumper 2 and kicked Whumpee in the chest, rudely waking them up. Whumpee coughed and groaned at the force of the kick. They were still a bit weak from what they’d been drugged with.

Whumper 1 stepped forward again to continue the assault, but Whumper 2 stopped them. “No no—let them wake up all the way. We want them to experience all of this.”

Whumper 1 rolled their eyes in frustration and turned around to look for something to hit Whumpee with in the meantime. While they were gone to the other side of the room, Whumper 2 smirked and knelt down next to Whumpee.

“We can make this so bad for you,” they whispered, taking a fistful of Whumpee’s hair and pulling. “You’ll be telling us what we need to know very soon. And after that, you’ll be begging us for death.” Whumper 2 leaned in closer so that their lips brushed Whumpee’s ear. “And we won’t give it to you.”

Suddenly, Whumper 2 was pulled away by the collar of their shirt and up to face Whumper 1, who glared at them dangerously. “That’s enough. You’re wasting time. Use your fists, not your head.”

Whumper 2 looked back at Whumper 1 smugly with no fear. “You don’t want to get in my way, friend.” They pulled a small pocket knife just barely out of their pocket, flashing it. “I can dish it out just as well as you can. I just prefer not to.”

“Is that a threat?” Whumper 1 growled, pulling Whumper 2 closer. The two were in a standoff.

Whumpee, who was just waking up still, managed to push themselves away a little bit. They were honestly relieved that the two were fighting—it took the attention off of them. Meanwhile, they couldn’t imagine being left alone with one of them. They balanced each other out. Whumper 1 could kill them just with their fists if they were alone with them too long, and Whumper 2 would make them wish they were dead with the psychological torment. They didn’t know which they hated most.

Slowly, they scooted themself to the corner to get away from the two as silently as possible. Upon doing this, Whumper 1 turned their head and dropped Whumper 2. “The fuck you think you’re doing?”

Whumpee whimpered and pressed themselves against the wall. They should’ve just stayed where they were.

“Listen…I think we should compromise here,” Whumper 2 said with a grin. “You do what you’re good at, and I’ll do what I’m good at. It’ll be so much for the poor thing. They’ll have to confess what we need eventually.”

Whumper 1 crossed their arms, thinking on it for a moment. “…Fine. But you don’t get to touch them. I want all their bruises to be mine.”

Whumpee shrunk in terror as both tormentors approached them.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumptember Day 1

"Don't leave me." | chains | failed escape attempt | abandoned building

CW: captivity, torture, superpower whump

As the iron manacles lock tight around whumpee’s wrists and ankles, claiming him once again as a prisoner, his exhausted mind races in time with his pulse.

Shouldn’t have tried…impossible…can’t ever escape…hopeless…

It was a mistake. The whole thing was a mistake. A waste of time and energy and what remained of his life. Because here he was, back again in whumper’s clutches, the way he always would be. Hopeless.

A second pair of manacles click shut around his ankles, chaining him to the wall. Whumper crouches and leans close, staring at whumpee while his gloved hand trails idly down a section of chain.

“I do hate seeing you like this, whumpee,” whumper croons with feigned sympathy. “You could be so useful to me. But you just can’t seem to understand the truth.”

Whumpee flinches back, away from whumper’s sour breath. He should keep his mouth shut, bite back the retort burning on his tongue, but it tumbles out anyway, two words that he immediately regrets.

“The truth?”

And just like that, whumper’s face changes. False sympathy gives way to cold ferocity. His gloved hand flashes upward and closes around whumpee’s throat.

“Yes, whumpee. The truth,” he growls. His hand tightens. Whumpee splutters and chokes, chains clinking together as his own hands scrabble at whumpers’s grip. “You can never escape from me, no matter how hard you try.”

He lets go abruptly and straightens, turning away as whumpee slumps back, gasping.

Hopeless…I can’t escape…I can never escape.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Whumper turns to face whumpee again, a smile pulling at the corner of his thin mouth. “I have a present for you.”

He snaps his fingers, and just like that, pain shoots through whumpee’s body, a thousand miniscule needles piercing the flesh of his wrists and ankles. He can’t breathe, can’t move. A single, desperate plea dies in his mouth as a wave of terrible weakness overcomes him.

…can never escape.

“…my special ability,” comes whumper’s voice. “For every hour of your captivity, these chains will drain a little more life from you until there’s nothing left. Perhaps then, I can finally use you.”

@whumptember

[ashintheairlikesnow]

All We Have Is Each Other

CW: Intimate whumper, captivity, defiant whumpee, biting, creepy whumper, obsessive whumper, noncon kiss, vague noncon references, drugging. For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 1: Duel

The Motherfucking Gallaghers Masterlist

Takes place during Jax’s second captivity. As always, Jax is used with oversight and permission from @comfy-whumpee)

-

Savvie rolls dice every time she uses the mortar and pestle in the kitchen to grind up one of her collections of pills and mix it into Jax’s drink.

She’s always gambling with the drugs. The first part of the game is seeing whether he’ll drink it before he realizes there’s something in it. If she doesn’t mix it well enough, he’ll see the cloudy bits floating around in the glass and look at her with terrible sad eyes. Sometimes she can’t take it. She just takes the drink right back out of his hand and pours it out, makes him a new one. 

Other the other hand, sometimes his sad voice and sad eyes piss her off worse than anything else could, and she just tips it up until he chokes and makes him finish it anyway. Or shocks him, pressing the button to the remote and watching his muscles lock up, knowing he’ll look sweeter once he’s fighting the way his muscles jerk afterward, the unconscious twitches he can’t quite get rid of as the aftermath works its way through him. 

Sometimes he even looks scared. Those nights are some of her favorites. Savvie never loves Jax as much as she does when he is scared of her. 

But... she can’t keep him scared all the time. What kind of marriage would they have if she did that? No, the drinks aren’t to scare him, they’re just to make… to make things easier. And she doesn’t always do it! She doesn’t always drug him, but it’s enough that he never trusts her. She knows that. He doesn’t… trust easily. 

That’s okay. 

Their relationship got off to a rough start, that’s all, what with Jax starting off as one of the staff, bought and paid for. Plus, Jax’s dad convinced him Savvie was evil, once upon a time when he ran away from her. Taught him to hate her. She had to have her uncle fly all the way to England to bring Jax back, and it’s taking years to undo all the damage that stupid old man did. 

That’s okay. He’s getting better, he’s definitely getting better. He is. He has to be getting better. 

Still… he’s not an easy man to be married to. Not with having to keep an eye on the remote to his shock collar so he can’t take it off and try to run away again, not with the way he watches her sometimes like he wants to dunk her head into the toilet and hold it there until she drowns. Putting stuff in his drink just lets Savvie be able to relax. 

She doesn’t have to worry about what he might do when he’s so high he can’t do much of anything. Besides, it’s only like one out of every ten nights, sometimes twenty, sometimes she even goes for a month or two without doing it. 

She really doesn’t even want to. If he would just learn to be happy without it, she wouldn’t have to keep drugging him, would she? If he’d just stop being so difficult about being her husband… but that isn’t fair. He can’t be any better than he is, not really. Jax just… isn’t wired that way.

So she has to help him a little, to make it so he can have nights when he can’t stay mad at her. Or at least nights when his anger isn’t able to simmer in there behind his eyes while he says Yes, Miss Savvie or No, Miss Savvie like there’s a gun to his head. 

Still. Trying to give him these evenings where both of them just relax… it’s always a gamble. 

Even if he drinks whatever she makes without realizing it’s spiked, he doesn’t always react the same way. If she’s lucky - if her dice rolls well - the drugs make Jax… softer. He’ll lean against her when some of his strength slides away, not seek out touch but loathe it less. Those are the nights she can coax a sound out of him that isn’t clipped or tense. She still thinks about the night she gave him a back rub and he genuinely fell asleep sitting on the floor between her knees, his head drifting until it rested on her leg, the knots of tension slowly loosening beneath her kneading hands until she got distracted by the movie and forgot what she was doing. 

Sometimes he smiles, when he’s blurry and unfocused. Smiles, enough to show teeth even… God, sometimes he even laughs at some of Savvie’s jokes. It’s rare, but it happens. She loves those nights the best. Those are the nights that their marriage almost feels normal… if she just ignores the dilated pupils and the way he can’t stand up on his own. 

Sometimes he gets so foggy he can’t stop laughing, which is irritating but at least adorable to watch and take videos of to make him look at later on the next day when he sobers up again. Sometimes the side effects make him too scared to smile, his eyes darting nervously everywhere watching the movements of shadows he swears are watching him. She… tries not to give him those pills anymore.

The nights tend to end with her telling him to take off his shirt so she can enjoy the view, or even his pants, too. She usually waits on that, though, because it doesn’t matter how good the drugs are - he always hesitates when it comes to taking off his pants, as soon as his fingers touch the boxers with their oddly rolled waistband. 

It reminds him he doesn’t want to be here. Makes his addled mind come back to the collar he wears around his neck, to the reality of the life they’re living, the marriage Savvie has built all by herself whether he wanted to or not.

And he… he didn’t want to. 

So normally she waits on the getting naked bit until they’re in the bedroom and what he wants matters so much less that neither of them think about it any longer. The drugs, at least, make it harder for him to slow her down in there. 

Savvie tries not to think about that, because she doesn’t remember it that way. She likes the nights best where he doesn’t even try to fight, just lets her pull him upstairs and she gets to bury her hands in his hair and tell him what to do and have him, languid and loose-limbed, follow every command without the tension and misery he usually carries into their bed. 

She doesn’t always roll well. 

Sometimes, she rolls snake eyes… and she gets this, instead.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jax groans, words slurring around the edges, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He pushes clumsily away from her, nearly falling off the couch before he manages to catch himself. “For… f’r fuck’s sake, Savvie, what the fuck.”

His wedding ring glints, light from the TV bouncing off the deceptively plain platinum band. She’s hit all over again with a wave of love for him, for the life she’s built after he was brought back home to be hers forever, just like he always should have been. She’d been an idiot not to see it, not until he was gone and she spent years in prison dreaming about getting him back. 

“Fuck’s sake what?” She asks, voice light, smiling at him and poking him in the shoulder where they sit on the couch. 

He doesn’t slap her hand away, but she sees him look at her and… he wants to. His expression is dark. The light is bouncing off his hazel eyes, too, giving them a strange sheen of white that wipes out the color, obscures even his dilated pupils slowly taking over the iris. “What the fuck was it?”

“What was what?”

“What the fuck did you give me?” He goes to push himself to standing only to have his knees buckle beneath him, crashing him to the floor, barely catching himself on his hands. Savvie’s mouth waters, and she swallows, trying to ignore the flutter of fascinated interest in watching his fingernails scrape the rug as he tries to steady himself. “What the fuck is it, Savvie?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She answers, without changing her own tone, leaning forward with her arms resting on her thighs. Her hair falls in heavy waves down her back and over her shoulders. “It’s not anything that could hurt you.”

This time, he doesn't say Miss Savvie or try out the sad eyes. Instead, he looks away. She can nearly hear his teeth grinding. “Yeah, but once I’m all fucked up, you will.”

“Don’t be rude,” Savvie chides him, but she doesn’t move. He looks good, on his hands and knees on the floor. Well, he looks good all the time, really, but he looks even better on his hands and knees. She knows the physique he’s built with the workout routine she makes him do, knows the muscles there hidden beneath the green sweater and jeans he’s wearing. “You’ve been stressed all week. I’m just trying to help-”

“Fucking shit, the hell you are!” He manages to sit back on his knees, then collapses back until his back hits the edge of the couch cushions, upright through sheer force of will and a bit of good luck. His hands lay limp at his sides, now. When he turns to look at her, his eyes don’t focus quite right - but the fury in them is clear.

Well.

Tonight’s not going to be the best night for them, then, she supposes. She feels the edge of a headache starting up, and sighs, looking mournfully at the movie she’d pulled up for them to watch. Another night, then. A night when the gamble pays off and doesn’t backfire. A night when he can’t remember how to be angry at her.

“Fine,” She says, heavily. “I’m not trying to help you. I’m trying to help me.”Her own voice changes - drops almost a full octave from her usual carefully constructed diction and sweetness to something sharper. “I’m making tonight easier on me. Making you less… less-” She can't think of a good way to end the sentence, so she just lets it hang there between them. 

Jax snorts, looking away again. His head keeps lolling forward until his chin nearly touches his chest before he jerks it back again. “Yeah, I fucking know,” He manages, but his slurring is getting worse. “Shit f’r brains.”

Savvie sniffs, but the fake tears aren't coming as easily as they usually do. She probably accidentally gave him too much again. It’s just sometimes so hard to remember exactly how much the dose is supposed to be…

“I don’t enjoy you being cruel to me any more than you enjoy it when I do it to you, you know,” She says, suddenly… so tired. She spends so much time and effort creating a marriage herself out of a man her uncle bought for her once and abducted for her the second time, and she’s doing this all on her own - no one helps her, not really. And Jax never gives up.

She’d been sure he’d start to settle in and understand by now, but he just… he just doesn’t. And she’s so tired. Her fingers toy with the little black remote to his shock collar. Maybe she should just… just give up on having a good night and punish him for the cursing until he just bites off his stupid tongue. 

No, wait. 

She likes what he does with his tongue, when she gives the order. He’s so good with it now. Maybe… maybe just a small shock. Just to remind him he's hers. She takes a deep breath. “Jax… get on your-”

“On m’knees f’r discipline?” He starts laughing before she can finish, cutting her off, letting his head fall totally back against the arm of the couch until he’s staring at the ceiling. He sounds wild, almost like an animal. Her quiet watchful husband is feral, and Savvie resolves never to give him the pill she gave him tonight ever again. “Yeah, fucking… fuckin’ do it. Second I don’t play along, there y’go. Bzzzt.” He cackles, a cracked bark of laughter she’s never heard him make before. “Shut me up so you don’t hear me say it.”

Savvie’s heart twists. “Say what?”

The laughter dies in him as suddenly as it appeared. He turns his head, or tries to - it mostly just falls to one side until he’s looking at her. Their eyes meet, his all black pupil and hers with nearly no pupil at all. “How much I fucking hate your fucking guts.”

“You don’t hate me.” She says it firmly, as if he’s being ridiculous. “Don’t be mean, Jax. You don’t hate me at all.”

She takes a deep breath. Married couples have fights, even ugly ones sometimes, and they work it out-

“Yeah. I… I really do.” Disgusted, that’s the tone in his voice. Disgusted with her. “I do. I hate you.”

“Why do you hate me?”

The look he gives her is such a blatant are you a complete fucking moron that she can hear his voice even though he doesn’t say a word. 

“No, hold on.” She waves one hand, dismissing her own question. His eyes briefly follow the movements of her fingers, distracted by whatever the drugs make him see there. Trails of light, maybe. It’s probably beautiful. “Hold on. I know why-”

“Do you?” His question is sharp, snapped, even as his every muscle can barely tense enough to move. “Do you fuckin’ really?”

“Yes. I do.” Savvie’s too tired to talk him in a circle tonight. She’s just… too exhausted by her bad gamble, bringing neither the snuggly Jax or the scared one, but this angry, vengeful animal instead.

Her headache is getting worse. 

She grabs her glass of wine off the coffee table and chugs it so fast a little drip escapes the corner of her mouth and runs down her chin. She has to wipe it away, wincing at the… at the idea of how that looks. Her mother would have had a fit about it. If she hadn’t died years ago. “Because I had you kidnapped.” 

Jax is silent, for a beat. He squints at her. “Fuck… what’d you say? Might be hearin’ shit.” 

She laughs, softly. Not her usual laughter, crafted to fill up a room and put all eyes on her. This laugh is barely there, but far more genuine. “No. You're not hallucinating, that shouldn't happen with what I gave you tonight.”

“Oh, good, not this fucking drugging, then, jussss-” His head falls too far to one side and he forces it back up, groaning. “Jusss… others.”

“Only one of the pills does that. And you were cute when you thought there were monsters in the bathroom.” She gets that flat stare from him again and this time she can't hold eye contact, looking down and away, still fiddling with the remote to his collar. “I just. I do know what I did, Jax.”

“Yeah, I fucking know you know-”

“I had you kidnapped.” She takes a deep breath. It feels oddly good to say, like a scene in a movie confessing to a priest. A foul-mouthed priest she’s been sleeping with for over a year. The thought makes her smile, just a little. “My uncle had people watching you, and when I was ready, he knew where you’d be and he abducted you for me. I know that. I know that you’d run, if you could. I’d take your collar off right now if I thought you’d stay without wearing it.”

Jax is silent for so long she briefly wonders if he's flat out forgotten how to talk. Then he shrugs - or tries to, his arms don't quite follow his commands. “You’d find somethin’ else, some other reason for shit ‘round my neck. You fuckin’ like it.”

For the first time, she doesn't deny it. “I do.” She laughs at the way he looks almost comically surprised, unable to keep his usual closed-off expressions in place with the drug coursing through his veins. “What? Can't a girl have a kink?”

“Sure fuckin’ can, but you… you don' have a kink, you got… goddamn victims.”

“... I… yeah. But it-... that's not my point. It isn't about the collar, Jax. Your wedding ring does it for me, too. I could barely wait to get you home after we signed the marriage certificate.”

The glare is back. His hatred is blistering her skin. She watches him try to stand, making it nearly upright before he falls back down again with a heavy thump. 

Her mouth twitches. “You want help, sweetie?”

“Ffffuck you.” 

“Well, I mean, if you’re asking so nicely.” She giggles at her own joke. 

He mumbles something she can't quite hear, trying to stand one more time but quickly giving up. He makes it onto the couch, at least. Savvie stands, turning to grab his ankles, shifting so he’s lying on his back, head and feet each cushioned by the arms of the comfortable, overstuffed couch. He struggles weakly, and it's hard work, but she gets him where she wants him. She barely breathes, taking in his chest rising and falling under his sweater, how his inhales are coming more sharply. 

She can't help herself. 

Savvie climbs on top of him, like she’s done a hundred times. She straddles him, sitting on his hips and leaning down to kiss his neck, nosing under his jaw. At first, his head tips back in resignation - but then he curses and pushes at her weakly instead. “Don’t.”

She grabs his wrists and shoves them above his head. He’s so weak, the drugs have taken all that muscle and made them… useless at holding her off. There’s a shiver of excitement down her spine. “Uh-uh, sweetie. You’re the one who said to fuck you, remember?”

She feels a thrill at saying fuck, like she’s still a kid sneaking swears in her room when her parents won’t overhear. 

“Don't,” He groans. “Sav-... Savvie, stop. G’t off me. I hate you.”

“I know.” She smiles down at him. His eyes meet hers, tired and bleary. Furious and almost resigned. “I know you hate me, Jax… but I love you.”

She leans down, her hair a waterfall curtain, blocking them both off from the world. She can smell the cologne she buys for him, blended with her own pricey perfume. His wrists jerk against her grip and she digs her nails in until he grunts in pain and the skin gives beneath. 

“Savvie,” he whispers. 

“Sssshhh.” She lets go with one hand, shifting both his wrists to her other one, and presses a finger against his lips. “I love you so much,” She whispers. “And I don't need you to love me back, sweetie, I don’t. I just need you to lie for me.”

 She kisses him, then, pressing her lips firmly to his. For half a second, his mouth is slack and unresisting even as his body shudders with disgust. He’s warm, his skin burning up beneath her. Her mouth moves against his, trying to get him to answer her, to open up.

His lips gently part. For a brief moment, Savvie feels the rush of victory.

Then he bites.

Pain blooms in a sudden flare as his teeth bury themselves into her lower lip and he jerks his head to the side, sensitive skin tearing.

“Shit!” Savvie jerks backwards, staring down at him wide-eyed. She can taste her own blood in her mouth. It’s smeared on his lips and his teeth like badly-done lipstick as he gives her a smile that's really a snarl. “Oh my God, Jax-... how dare you-”

“Fuck you! Don't fucking touch me!” He gets his arms more or less under his own control and shoves her off of him. She crashes into the coffee table, the legs giving out, tumbling her to the floor. Pain spikes hot and demanding along her hip where she hits the hard angle of the corner and she finds herself the one lying on the floor, while Jax slowly sits up, wiping blood off his lips. 

Her blood. 

Savvie pulls her fingers from her mouth and gasps. There’s a smear of red, bright and vibrant, the unmistakable sense of blood trickling down over her chin. She tongues at the wound, then winces as the pain flares bright, like he’s bitten her all over again. She considers tears - looks at the loathing in his eyes, the absolute rage written in the lines of his face - and then decides they’re wasted on him tonight. Instead, she just shakes her head. “That hurt.”

“Good. Don' like bein’ the one fucking bleeding for once, huh?” His eyes drift closed. He struggles to open them again, to keep his eyes on her. “Shit feelin’, isn't it?” 

“God.” She swallows. Blood on her tongue is making her feel nauseous and she gets to her feet carefully. Her mouth and hip throb. She’s going to be so bruised tomorrow, going to ache so much. “You’re awful sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He grins. He hasn't bothered to try and get the red off his teeth. “I know. So… so fffffuckin’ get rid of me, then.”

Savvie snorts, limping a little as she moves to pick up the spilled wine bottle from the floor. She could shock him now - that’s what she would usually do. Or call Isaac and have him carted off to spend another month locked in the kennels with the dogs. He… probably doesn’t care about that, though. Anything to get away from her. Anything is better than her, to him.

“Get rid of you?” She drinks the last swallow in the bottle, washing blood down her throat with the wine. “Then what, Jax? I should just… live here alone, without you, for the rest of my life?”

“Fucking-... yes, or go fucking die. I don't fucking care.” The flush of hot anger bleeds away, his voice softening a little. “I don't… don' care, Savvie. I don’t care about you.”

“No. You do.” She feels a burst of desperation to make him understand. “You hate me, right? That’s caring about me, still.”

“Savvie-”

“No. I love you. You are mine, and I am keeping you. This is love, Jax. What I feel for you is true love.” 

He shakes his head, swaying a little where he sits. He tries to push her away again as she takes him by the arm but his burst of energy seems to have used him up. He lets her, in the end, get him onto his feet. She leads him on his unsteady legs out of the room, and he stumbles along with her. 

“S'not love,” He mumbles. She keeps an arm around his waist to help him balance. “Fucking… fuck you. Let me leave, Savvie.”

He doesn't have the strength to push her away, not anymore. He has to use her to stay up as they take the stairs one at a time, although after three or four he jerks away again and uses the railing, leaning heavily against it as he drags himself upwards, inch by inch, step by step. 

She lets him pull away, watching his determination to not need her, how badly he doesn’t even want her. There’s a canyon inside of her, something dark and deep that hurts so much worse than her hip or her torn open lower lip, threatening to claw its way out as she watches the man she has forced to play the role of her husband do anything he can to avoid her touch. 

Her jaw sets. “It is. It is love, and you know what? It’s all the love you’re going to get. Ever. No one else will ever love you.” Savvie’s voice stays low. “You’re not… you’re not lovable, Jax, but I don’t care, I love you anyway. Nobody else would. No one is ever going to even want to love you but me.”

He slumps. The fight’s all gone out of him, for now. Her gamble failed tonight and Jax is buckling under the weight of what runs through his veins, the heavy expectations in her eyes and her smile and her devotion. 

“Fuck,” is all he says, barely a whisper under his breath.

Savvie sighs, touching her fingers to her lip again. The bleeding has slowed but there’s still a spot of red. “Goes both ways, though, I think.”

He doesn't look at her. “What?”

“This… how much you hate me… how I had to kidnap you, and put that thing on your neck to keep you here, how you wish you were anywhere but here with me… you know, I, I get it.”

He has to stop at the landing and lean over, resting his forehead against the wall. 

She lays a hand on his back, leaning over to speak right against his ear. “I get that your hate is all the love I’m going to get, too, Jax. Nobody else will ever love me, either.” 

Her throat feels tight, and she can’t tell if she really feels the twisting nerves in her stomach, the sense of dread, or if it’s part of her act for Jax. Sometimes even Savvie isn’t sure when she means the things she says. Sometimes, even worse, she really does.

“All we’re ever going to have is each other.”

He doesn’t answer her. But when she takes his arm in her hand, he allows himself to be dragged along towards her bedroom. The fight might be gone, but so is the feeling. There’s nothing in his eyes that shows he even heard her.

That’s okay. She can be honest, in the dark, in the middle of the night, knowing that he’s too drugged to remember anything she said when he wakes up again. She’ll lie to herself again by morning. So will he.

She just needs him to lie. 

-

@whumpyourdamnpears consider this my evil savvie gift to you

[whumping-in-the-dark]

Drabble #1- Mistake

Instead of using the usual whumper and whumpee placeholders for characters, I decided to give them names to try and connect with them more. I doubt it'll turn into a coherent story since atm I don't plan to connect all the drabbles but let's see how it goes. Also, I don't feel brave or knowledgeable enough atm to write noncon but hope to get there sometime in the near future. So any tips are welcome!

CW: sadistic whumper, pet whump, dissociation, suicidal thoughts, electrocution, implied noncon

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Theo lay huddled in the corner of the basement, clutching the thin sheets close to himself.

Marlon tsked. "What have I told you, boy? When I come downstairs, I want you on your knees, ready to accept my gifts for you."

Theo curled further into himself, eyes screwed shut. "Please..."

"Please, what?" Marlon huffed out. He'd kick Theo straight in the ribs- except that might just kill the pathetic thing. He hadn't been all that harsh with him either and yet he had come apart in a matter of weeks.

"I wanna go home... let me- let me go..." And of course, he was a whiner. "Please please pleeaasee-" His voice broke off with a quiet sob. Marlon hated whiners.

"Yeah? You're the little bitch who approached me; begged me to take you in. You said you would pay me back in any fucking way." It was true. They both knew it. "And now you have the audacity to be ungrateful?"

Theo pressed his palms into his eyes, shaking his head. "No- no, sir. I didn't know that's what you meant. I made a mistake. I was wrong. Please, no-"

Marlon took in a deep breath. He had to control his anger unless he wanted to kill his favorite pet. Crouching down, he reached over to stroke his hair. Theo flinched.

Marlon growled. Enough. He grabbed his pet's matted hair, wrenching his head up and forcing their eyes to meet. "It's too late for that now, darling." Without warning, he shoved the previously hidden tazer deep into his ribs, turning it on high. A sick grin spread across his face as he twisted it in, relishing in the way his pet screamed and thrashed around.

Theo scratched his throat raw as he cried out from the flashing pain. He knew it was bad for him to resist his master but he couldn't help but try everything in his power to escape his iron grasp. When Marlon finally let him fall back to the hard ground, he was left whining for breath- for any scrap of mercy from his master. There was none to be found.

In one swift move, Marlon had zipped off his pants and-

-when Theo finally returned to true consciousness he was left trembling on the floor, the sheets tainted red.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

FNV Companions (+Victor and Yes Man) Ranked From Best to Worst Yandere's

➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » Yandere Themes, Stalking, Manipulation ➼ Genre » Romantic/Platonic, Yandere, Whumpee/Whumper

1. Yes Man wouldn't ever dream of doing anything that you'd dislike. He's always at your beck and call, waiting for any orders he can carry out for you. He's complacent, understanding, and very loyal to you and whatever cause you're aiming for. That alone makes him the best on this list, only downside is that he’s wayyy too obsessive and worship-y.

2. Veronica is so head over heels in love with you that it's almost wholesome? You won't even be able to tell that anything wrong due to how gentle she is with you. She's always getting you gifts, taking you out on dates, and if you ever talked to any of the other Brotherhood members, they'd roll their eyes and say that 'of course they know you, Veronica never stops gushing!'. The only yandere aspect about her is the slight stalking she does whenever you do anything without her.

3. Cass might have a bit of a jealous streak, but she means well. She'd never dream of harming you or anyone you're considerably close to, she'd hate if you had to lose someone you cared for. Instead, she normally relies on her louder personality to scare off any 'competition' she might have. She's more of a bodyguard than a threat, only wanting your safety in the Mojave and you'll sure be getting that when you travel with her.

4. Victor’s honestly pretty chill. The only reason he’s below Cass is that he’s way more likely to ‘get rid’ of someone for your sake. He also, by default, has to be a lot more obsessed with you as he needs that extra motivation to override parts of House’s programming to be able to act in the ways he deems necessary. Such as wandering the Mojave with you instead of staying at his post, and shooting his rockets on his own accord.

5. Arcade isn’t violent, but he is manipulative. The others above him are way more relaxed than he’d ever be, which is why he’s been placed 5th. He’ll always make remarks about how you’re ‘friends’ are all fake, and that he’s the only one you could — the only one you should ever trust and confide in.

6. Raul manages to convince himself that what he's doing is in your best interest, and that's what makes him so dangerous to be around. Everything he does is justified in his mind and he won't be willing to compromise. Everything is on the table with him, whether that be making threats or full-on murder. He's done this all before and he refuses to lose you like he has everyone else, even at the cost of his own life.

7. Lily’s schizophrenia mixed with her fear of losing another one of her grandkids causes her to become incredibly controlling and overprotective over you. She’ll constantly be asking where you’re headed or who you’ve been talking to, worried that you’ll somehow be harmed or corrupted in some way or another. Leo doesn’t help either, in fact, he encourages her behavior because a part of it makes him stronger.

8. Boone doesn’t care how you feel about what he’s doing, he’s still gonna do it. He’s the lowest on this list for a reason, and that reason is he’s the quickest to act with violence. There’s nothing that could ever stop him from pulling out his rifle and taking out whoever it is he wants. He’ll isolate you, injure you, try and keep you complacent with horrific stories. As long as you’re alive, Boone is happy, but that state you’re in doesn’t matter.

[whump-about-it]

Red Alert/ Distress Call/ Panic Attack

@whumpril day 1 (few days late)

CW: panic attacks, brief mention of blood, implied suicidal ideation, concern about self harm, dissociation, PTSD 

Caretaker knew something was wrong as soon as they saw Whumpee’s name pop up on their phone. Whumpee never called. They hated talking on the phone. Even when something actually warranted a call Whumpee was more likely to send a text. Which more often than not Caretaker wouldn’t see for hours. 

“Whumpee?” They said a little too loudly when they picked up the phone, causing a few of their co-workers to look up at them annoyed. On the other end of the phone Whumpee didn’t respond. All Caretaker could hear was heavy, ragged breathing, like Whumpee was running from something. 

“Whumpee?” Caretaker repeated “Whumpee are you there? Is everything okay?” 

“Caretaker.” Whumpee finally spoke. They sounded out of breathe and their voice lacked its usual force “Caretaker. I - I” They paused for several breathes as Caretaker held their phone in a white knuckle grip, trying not to speak over Whumpee. Trying to let them get the words out on their own.

“Red” Whumpee finally said with a gasp. 

Caretaker was up and moving before Whumpee had finished the word. Rushing through their office and towards the exit. 

“I’m on my way. Where are you?” 

Whumpee wasn’t good at talking about their feelings. Even before Whumper it was something they didn’t like doing, and preferred to keep an emotionless mask at all times. Since Whumper though, holding that mask had gotten harder and somehow more important to them. When they couldn’t hold the mask anymore though, and it cracked, Whumpee struggled to explain what was going on. Their emotions came out in violent outbursts and debilitating panic attacks that they couldn’t control or explain. Overtime Whumpee and Caretaker had managed to come up with a code that Whumpee could use to explain to Caretaker what was going on inside their head. 

Green meant everything was okay, and Caretaker was misinterpreting the situation. Yellow meant Whumpee was on edge, but still in control. Orange was for panic attacks. And red? Red meant Caretaker needed to drop everything and get to Whumpee quick. 

“Whumpee? Where are you?” Caretaker repeated when Whumpee didn’t respond to them the first time. 

“I’m sorry” Whumpee gasped, their voice was sounding more and more distanced, like they were falling into a trance. Caretaker began to panic a little, imagining Whumpee lost someplace and totally dissociating. Doing something stupid or dangerous, and Caretaker not being able to get to them in time. 

“Just tell me where you are Whumpee” They insisted in a forced calm voice. 

“Home.” Whumpee said and Caretaker breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Okay. I’m on my way. I’m already in the car. Just stay on the phone with me okay?” 

“I broke the mirror.” 

“Alright. We’ll deal with that. Are you hurt?” 

“I’m sorry” 

“I don’t care about the mirror Whumpee. Did you hurt yourself?” There was a long pause. before Whumpee responded. 

“I don’t know.” They breathed “There’s blood” 

Caretaker’s heartrate leapt. 

“I’m five minutes away. Just hang on and stay on the phone with me.” 

Whumpee didn’t respond. Caretaker kept trying to talk to them but they feared Whumpee wasn’t hearing them anymore. 

Caretaker finally pulled into the driveway and jumped out of their car, running into the house. Thankfully they found Whumpee exactly where they thought they would be. 

They were sitting on the floor of the downstairs bathroom with their knees up to their chest and starring ahead of them without seeing. Their back was against the vanity and they were surrounded by shards of glass from the shattered mirror above them. In one hand, they were still holding their phone up to their ear even though Caretaker had hung up when they had come through the door. In the other they were holding one of the shards of broken mirror with such an iron grip their hand was shaking. Caretaker could see blood pooling between their fingers and there was a trail dripping down their wrist. 

“Whumpee!” Caretaker ran into the bathroom and fell to their knees in front of Whumpee ignoring the bits of glass pushing into their knees through their pants. They grabbed both of Whumpee’s wrists and shook them until they dropped both the phone and the glass shard. With their hands now empty Caretaker examined Whumpee’s arms and wrists for injuries. Their fingers and knuckles were cut on their dominant hand from having punched the mirror, and there were deep cuts on their palm from where they had been gripping the shard of glass. But otherwise they were uninjured, and none of the injuries they had seemed to be intentional.

Caretaker breathed a shaky sigh of relief and looked up at Whumpee’s face. They were white as a sheet and Caretaker could see tear stains running down their cheeks. But they were surprised to find that Whumpee was looking back at them with at least some level of awareness that Caretaker was there. 

“Caretaker?” 

Caretaker reached forward and put their hands of Whumpee’s cheeks, wiping away the last of the tears. 

“Yeah Whumpee I’m here now. How are you doing?” 

“Red” Whumpee replied after a moment, and their eyes filled with tears again. Their face twisting to try to keep from crying. 

“I can’t even look at myself” They sobbed. “Why did Whumper do that to me? What did I do to deserve it?” 

“Oh, Honey” Caretaker knew Whumpee would scold them for the pet name later, but now they didn’t seem to notice. Caretaker pulled them into a hug and let Whumpee cry into their shoulder shaking and gripping at the back of their shirt with their non-bloody hand, as they stroked their hair and tried to hold back their own tears.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve this. Whumper is a monster, and they were going to hurt someone no matter what. But I’m so, so, sorry it was you. Never believe though that it was your fault. Please never believe that.” 

They stayed there on the floor of the bathroom for a long time. Whumpee crying into Caretaker’s shoulder and Caretaker doing what they could to comfort them. It had been such a long road for both of them since Whumpee had been rescued from Whumper, and they had a long way to go before Whumpee would even start to be okay again. But Caretaker was proud of Whumpee for today. For calling. For asking for help before they were too far gone. They were glad the code system had worked. 

They would tell Whumpee all this later. But now wasn’t the time. Now Whumpee just needed a shoulder to cry on. 

[treehuggerthegreat]

something i really need to get off my chest even if i just post this privately is That i really dislike ‘caretakers’ in whump writing. or ‘whumper’ i feel like it makes a character (even if they’re just a hypothetical one) feel very 1 dimensional and it makes me so OKAY JUST HEAR ME OUT!!! whumpee i don’t mind much, it makes the prompt or what your talking about a little clearer. But it feels like it’s putting it into a box and making sort of roles which makes it feel less like a prompt and more like we’re in an omega verse fandom and i mean this really lovingly and affectionately and no hate to any of yall. I have a vast amount of characters and i write stories and books and I can say with out a shadow of a doubt, not ONE of them fall under ‘whumper’ or ‘caretaker’ because i develop them as their own individual character. Not even my antagonist are ‘whumpers’

So one of my main antagonists literally burns cigarettes on the MC and abuses the MC. Tries to kill her on her 18th birthday. Shes her mom, and the main character PHYSICALLY cannot leave that situation with out getting the authorities involved until she turns 18. Mom sounds like an ass, she beats ‘whumpee’ up! why would i NEVER call her a whumper? because she’s a whumpee by that logic. Her mom was extremely emotionally abusive, and half the time not fully there. Her shitty ass dad got murdered in front of her when she was just a kid. but Her mom isn’t a whumper either, because she too would be considered a whumpee. She was a world renowned flapper girl, everyone loved her. she LIVED for the fame and her face in newspapers. But behind the scenes she was actively ignoring her distant parents as they continued to try and marry her off. She was then forced into the marriage when she got pregnant with the guy (much so against her will which is why she killed him.) and ever since she’s been delusional and not fully there. It’s generational abuse.

more ramble under the cut + extra clarification on what I’m trying to say

okay but that’s just generational abuse right? There are other whumpers in the real world! Yeah i guess there’s sadists and serial killers, but like, there’s SOOOO much more guys.

I have a mini antagonist, he’s in highschool and he’s meant to be the toxic narcissistic ex of one of my characters. But he’s falling apart trying to get attention, he’s not fully aware of the damage he IS doing. Ass he may be but again behind the scenes he’s constantly fighting with his dad who refuses to do anything around the house and who is also transphobic (she’s bigender but i’ve been using he to make it less confusing right now) and now she has to take care of her little sister and act like a whole ass mom. As a sophomore. In high school. Not only that but her mom died, so she has to struggle with that. She’s just an annoying ass teenager, she doesn’t understand how to treat people or how she’s supposed to be handling what she’s dealing with. But getting attention and being liked at school? now that’s the shit. That’s like drugs for her. But to what lengths does she go to get that extra validation? He uses his boyfriend almost like an accessory. He’s not considerate of his feelings, and most likely doesn’t understand what a relationship is SUPPOSED to be.

Unless you’re making a sociopath character, which i LOVE a good sociopath character, you have to treat them like they also have humanity. Most of the time villains don’t just. Do shit to do it, they have some sort of background that lead up to this!!! And also even then with sociopaths they’re their own individual characters separate from the people they hurt!!! and also NONE of these are end all be alls and all characters must be developed this way!!!!

just my advice and stuff <3 i love all of you out there and i can understand why using certain roles and terms are the go to, and i’m not stopping you!!! i just really wanted to give my two cents so i can possibly help other writers!!!

[serickswrites]

Ready Set Go II

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, suffocation, unconsciousness

Whumpee came to slowly. Their chest burned and their neck hurt. The last thing they remembered was Whumper pulling the bag over their head telling them to make it to a minute thirty. Whumpee knew they definitely wouldn't make it to a minute thirty.

They wondered how long they did make it.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Whumper said brightly. They were wiping Whumpee's cheeks with a cool cloth. "You were out for a lot longer than I thought you'd be."

How long had they been out for? "Pl-Pl-Please," Whumpee said weakly.

"You did so good that time, Whumpee! You almost made it to a minute thirty. You can definitely make it to a minute twenty. Do you think you can make it ten more seconds? I think you can. Do you?"

Whumpee coughed, their chest burning with each breath. They weren't even sure they could make it ten seconds at this point. "I...I can't. Please."

"Nonsense!" Whumper smiled down at Whumpee. They tightened the coils around Whumpee's chest. They double checked the chair was still bolted to the floor. "I think we should give it a shot. What do we have to lose? We have all the time in the world to get you to a minute thirty, Whumpee."

Whumpee closed their eyes as they felt tears welling up in them. They couldn't make it. They wouldn't make it. They weren't making it out of this room. "Please, Whumper. I need.....rest...please."

Whumper's smile dimmed. "But we're just getting started! You can rest when you're dead, Whumpee. And if you don't try any harder, my bet is that will happen sooner rather than later. I would hate for you to die before we reach two minutes thirty. My last friend could only make it one minute forty. I bet you can do better than them."

"Please," Whumpee started, but their words fell on deaf ears. Whumper pulled the bag over their head before they could suck in enough air. As the world narrowed down to the bag pulled tight around their neck and the burning in their lungs, Whumpee wondered how much longer they could last.

Tags: @rubyjewelqueen @goureblogs @bisexuawolfsalt @1653-archive @whump-allthe-way @forest-theory @echo-of-umbra @ubelkkeit @royc4n @lit-list @mypersonaldarkworld @thathurt-doitagain @orangeduckweed @devourerofcheesecake @whumpthyme @whumperstorm @whumpobsessednarwhal @cuteangsty @whumpitisthen @pigeonwhumps @whumpndump @st0rmm @notsobeautifuldisaester @whumperdumper @wh-wh-whumpified @sink-the-ship @antipsichotic @writinggremlin @whumpsday

[a-living-canvas]

I love your account so much! I’m constantly checking for updates or new stories. On that note, could you, when you have some time, write a sequal to Carmel Curls? The whumperflies from that story!

I'm glad you like my writings! I hope you enjoy this too! <333

Part 1

Caramel Curls II

"There, done."

Whumper grinned sweetly at Whumpee. He lifted them off from the changing table and put them back in the crib. Whumpee's face was stained with tears of humiliation. They couldn't do much when Whumper put the diaper on them. 

And now they were in a cute blue pyjama, with bear patterns all over it. They peered down, noticing the bump from the diaper on their pants. They felt more mortified when Whumper patted right on that spot, looking down at them with a smirk.

"Comfy now~? Baby~?"

Whumpee gritted their teeth, glaring at Whumper as they felt tears welling up in their eyes again. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Let me go! You creep!"

"Aww…don't be like that. What makes my precious baby upset, hm?"

"YOU!"

Whumper chuckled, he took the teddy bear and placed it on Whumpee's chest. "Mr. Teddy wants to help you cheer up a bit."

Whumpee frowned, looking down at the stupid smile on the teddy's face as Whumper guided their tied hands to wrap around it. Now, I'm hugging it. Good.

"Get this away from my face."

Whumper ignored them, adjusting the pillow around Whumpee to make them feel more comfortable. He pulled back slightly, noticing something off about them. 

"Ah! I forgot about the ribbons…"

"Ribbons?"

Whumper walked across the room and tugged open the drawer as he took the ribbons and returned to Whumpee. He made cute little bows on the rope around Whumpee's wrists and ankles while humming softly.

"My baby looks so adorable like this…"

Whumpee sighed in frustration, "Do you think doing that would make me feel better?"

Whumper raised an eyebrow, "Who said I do that to make you feel better? It's for me."

Whumper put his hand on the bump again and Whumpee tensed up. "Get away from me!" They raised their knees to their chests but then Whumper grabbed their ankles and held it in his grip instead.

"Daddy just wants to check on you. "

Pat Pat Pat

"Hmm…is it full yet?"

Whumpee rolled their eyes. "Obviously, no. Now stop touching me!"

"But you said you need to go to the restroom earlier."

Whumpee looked at Whumper in disbelief. "I won't pee in this."

"Why not?" Whumper grabbed the bag of diapers, examining the label on the packaging. "It said here the tremendous absorption capacity up to half a day or 12 hours. And oh! The waistband prevents the formation of red marks on the baby's skin. Aww! It protects your little bum!"

Someone, please, let me out of here.

"I don't care about that! Are you nuts?!"

"Oh, certainly not, dear. But you, holding back your pee isn't very healthy you know?"

Whumper leaned down, and without a warning, rubbing his thumb in circle across Whumpee's lower belly. Whumpee flinched, feeling the urge to urinate coming back again. 

"Come on, let it flow~" Whumper taunted, chuckling sadistically as he watched Whumpee's face change to a look of despair. They both knew Whumpee needed to release it sooner or later.

"Stop…stop!"

Whumpee closed their eyes tightly, the sensation overwhelming them as Whumper played with their belly button, increasing the stimulation. "Just let it go. You would feel better, you know?"

Whumper kept rubbing their lower stomach and belly button, smiling softly as he watched Whumpee slowly crumble. Their faces were red, and they looked like a baby who suffered from constipation. 

"If you behave, I will let you sleep for a while and then we can get you ice cream."

"...Ice cream…?"

"Mhm."

Whumper smiled in satisfaction as he saw Whumpee stopped struggling. Their muscles loosened up and a look of relief could be seen on their faces. He stood straight up again, crossing his arms as he watched the diaper slowly filling up. 

"Good baby. Finally listening to your daddy, hm?

After changing the diaper again, Whumpee slept peacefully in their cribs. They weren't fighting anymore. They were just so tired. And the image of a strawberry ice cream made them feel excited for some reason. Just like a kid would.

"Shh…sleep my little baby. Daddy will protect you."

Yeah..Whumper would protect them right? They were just his little baby. They were supposed to be in his arms.

And in that moment Whumpee couldn't help but feel so…safe.

~

Part 3

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @htavin87 @heyyitsworld @risk606

[montammil]

dark fantasy whump ideas

dark fantasy whump is like my absolute favorite, but i love when it’s like... super dark fantasy. heres some ideas i’m throwing out there because i’m bored. also these aren’t all specifically dark fantasy, some just work really well in the dark fantasy genre. feel free to use any of these, please tag me if you do because i’d love to read it, but it’s not required! 

1. Whumpee is actually a demon summoned by Whumper, but Whumper finds out Whumpee isn’t as strong and notorious as the books all say. So, they decide they’ll make some other use out of their new little demon.

2. Whumpee ends up in a new dimension, and they see Caretaker and are so relieved, because Caretaker died in their dimension. Only to find out Caretaker is actually their whumper in this dimension, and now they can’t get out...

3. Caretaker and Whumper have always been rivals, different leaders of different nations who never got along. When Caretaker invades Whumper’s castle and they find a horrified Whumpee in chains, right at the foot of Whumper’s throne, they start to hate Whumper for a new reason.

4. Whumpee has never had full control over their magic/powers, and eventually hurt Caretaker by accident. Horrified, they run away, convinced they’re a monster. They start to realize maybe Whumper kept them isolated for a good reason, contemplating if they should return to them.

5. Caretaker gets thrown into a dungeon cell for rebelling against king/queen/monarch Whumper. When Caretaker finds a horribly shaken and bruised Whumpee by their cell, they begin to grow close to each other. All Caretaker knows, is there’s no way they’ll let Whumper hurt Whumpee anymore.

6. Whumper finds Whumpee chained outside a house in the woods, cold, starving, and possibly abandoned. They would typically ignore them, but they notice Whumpee isn’t human. They decide it’d be fun to have a little pet.

7. Whumpee is a thief, and one night they get caught by Whumper, sneaking into their mansion. Needless to say, things don’t turn out well, especially when they realize Whumper is a bigger threat than any ordinary human.

8. Caretaker is a hunter and shoots what looks like a deer in the distance. When they run up to it, they find that it’s no deer, but a frail monster-like whumpee who is begging them for mercy. Caretaker feels guilty and picks them up, only to notice they have more bruises and cuts on them than a single gunshot would do, not to even mention their worryingly light weight.

9. Caretaker is a monster who everyone has feared over the past years, kept in a dungeon cell in tight chains. When they wake up to find a shivering Whumpee who was also thrown inside the cell, they immediately grow protective over them.

10. Whumper possesses Caretaker to hurt Whumpee, not letting on that Caretaker’s been possessed. When Whumpee feels so betrayed that Caretaker could do something so horrible, they run away, back to Whumper, who they think had nothing to do with this.