#childlike whumpee

[whump-on-a-string]

Doodle inspired by @mj-iza-writer's comforty whump story because it's so cute. ;_; Caretaker gave them ice cream and a big ol cozy blanket and is so nice and aUAGFDSBJKGHFD MY HeaRT

[whumpinthepot]

@medwhumpmay day 1. Under Anesthesia

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

whunmpee that breaks my heart the most isn’t whumpee that is terrified, but whumpee that is happy — not a feisty kind of happy where they laugh and mock whumper, but an innocent, childlike and naive kind of happy where they don’t know what is about to happen to them. they still think that they are safe, even when they’re held captive by whumper, because they are so pure and innocent that they don’t know there are bad people in this world.

they don’t understand what they did wrong when whumper tortured them. they don’t understand why any of this is happening. they were literally smiling innocently when they were escorted to the room in which they’d be tortured.

this literally fucks me up. I need caretaker to come save them asap :(

[whumpsoda]

I have this scene of Marshall deeply enthralled but still remaining defiantly quiet until eventually a Dr starts talking to him like he’s a scared child and a part of him opens up

Like “close your eyes if you don’t want to see the needle, love” or just explaining what everything they’re doing to him like “this won’t hurt you, see? you wanna touch it?”

he does so, and eventually once or twice asks a distant “what is thaaat?”

As of now this is not canon to the story, just a fun little extra :3

cw: vampire whumpers, multiple whumpers, vampire whumpers, hypnosis, hypnotized whumpee

——————

Marshall blinked, gradual and slow, the world blurring around him. He frowned hard, slouched down in his seat upon the table with his arms crossed like an irritated child. 

Seated beside him, Evangile rubbed her thumb over the skin of his shoulder in sweet, soft, circular motions, accompanied by the subduing dizziness of enthrallment. She ever so often supplied little whispers of calming, hypnotic nature, ones that were working toward quelling his ever present temper.

“It’s just a regular old shot, okay my dear? Nothing to be afraid of.” She gave him an unwelcomed scratch below the chin, Marshall’s muscles much too weary under the weight of enthrallment to escape her touch.

“Shh… shot…?” Even through the heaviest weight of a daze he recalled not wanting to go to another new doctor - or any doctor at all for that matter - but a shot? The fact only made the tense in his stomach churn worse.

“Yes, a shot.” Her gaze was fixed on the clock, watching and waiting for their appointment to begin. “It’ll be so quick and easy, you won’t even feel it.”

“Hmph.” He dug deeper into his seat, his expression of displeasure deepening.

“Well hello there!” The door swung wide open, the frame of a tall and lanky doctor striding in. They walked right up to Marshall, flashing a fang toothed smile, prompting him to take his sluggish limbs and shift away from them as much as he could. “A new thrall of yours, I presume?”

“You could say that.” Evangeline returned their grin.

With bright and excited energy their focus popped back to Marshall, spinning the thrall’s head in circles. “You can call me Dr. Belle, I’ll be taking care of you today. And your name is?”

He was already well aware his tongue didn’t work well under enthrallment, slow and weighted that turned his words to slurred mush. “Muh… mmm… Mar… shall…”

“A lovely name!” They exclaimed, rummaging through the tools they had brought along with them. “Now, I’ll go nice and slow for you okay? I can tell you’re a bit closed off, and I understand completely. I promise to tell you just what I’m doing, understood?”

Marshall nodded, studying the plate of mysterious tools he’d never become familiar with.

“Here, first I’ll wipe off the area so it’s nice and clean, okay?” They brought along in their fingers a white blob he failed to recognize, and Marshall promptly recoiled just a smidge.

“Wha’s thaaat…?” He pointed, an expression of innocent fear with a tinge of curiosity creeping over his face. 

“Just a wipe. Would you like to touch it first? It won’t hurt you, it just might be a bit chilly.” Marshall’s face reddened, shaking his head as he blushed with embarrassment. How was he so stupid?

Marshall sat quiet and calmly as the doctor cleaned off his skin, just until a jar sat across the room caught his eye. “That… is… ‘s that a lolli… pop…?” He gestured toward it, eyes sparkling with childlike wonder.

“Why, yes it is! I give them to my best patients. All the good thralls get one.” 

“What… about meee…?”

Doctor Belle booped his nose gingerly, a kind gesture that sent his mind reeling. “I guess we’ll have to see how well you do, don’t we? If you’re a good boy I guarantee you’ll be deserving of one.”

“Oh- okay. Okay.”

“Now, I’m going to do the shot, alright? It’ll only hurt for a second, just a little pinch, like this.” They held his skin tight between two fingers, just for a second, mimicking the feeling of the aforementioned shot. “Is that okay?”

“Y- yes. Mhm.” Marshall knew he’d been through many before in his lifetime, but in such a state a foreign kind of wariness was seeping through him. “Can… can you count…?”

“Oh, of course. Ready?” Marshall nodded, turning away drowsily to look at Evangeline, whose vampiric aura was tenderly strengthening its hold over his mind. “Close your eyes if you don’t want to see the needle, love. Now, one, two, three.”

Marshall sipped in a filling, woozy breath.

“Oh, how wonderful! Practically no squirming, and none of that terrible screaming some of my other clients enjoy. Such a good boy you are.” Marshall blinked in surprise as the vampire patted his head, barely having felt any sort of affliction at all. His head swam with the two vampire’s mixture of hypnotic bliss, a small smile forming over his lips.

“You should see him out of enthrallment.” Evangeline remarked. 

“What’s that I hear? Are you naughty in your normal state?” Doctor Belle placed their hands on their hips in a disapproving motion, and Marshall quickly and lazily shook his head.

“N- no! No! ‘M… ‘m a good boy…!”

“Well you were very good for me.” They skipped over to one side of the room, picking up the jar and returning to flaunt it in front of Marshall. “Which flavor do you like? Watermelon? Bubblegum? Cotton candy?”

“Cottonnnn… candyyyy…” he slurred, ensorcelled happiness clogging up his brain as he popped the candy into his mouth. “Thank youuuu…”

“You’re very welcome.” They said, with one more pleasurable pet to the head.

——————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @justletmereadmywhump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @thelazywitchphotographer @whumpin-on-a-prayer

@legokiwi

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[seth-whumps]

something about naive pretty boy whumpees. walking into a situation with stars in their eyes, enthusiastic and young and childlike. the brave face when things start turning. realizing they knew so little of what they got themselves into. the sudden, crushing knowledge when the rug is ripped from beneath their feet. the fear, the hyperventilating, the confusion, the loneliness, no one to look to, no one to lean on, no one to help them. the stifled, quiet crying, cursing themselves for their own childishness in the hopes the admittance would just let them go home.

[mj-iza-writer]

Oc in three

Thanks again to @writingphoenix.

Rule: introduce a character with three images.

I won't tag anyone this round. If you want to do this do it.... it's fun.

Sp Special Containment: Jaimie.

Jaimie has two personalities that keeps Mcgee on her toes.

One is super girly and bubbly. She is quick to switch though. She is very deadly and tricky though.

Aramais says she is a little devil, but he still wants to take care of her.

Still not sure if I'm supposed to share what the pics mean but you know I have to.

Ghostly person standing on field: Jaimie was kidnapped at young age by the Human Weapon organization. Because of her disappearance she wouldn't feel comfortable going home, and she doesn't quite feel visible tobthe real world.

Heel on hand: Jaimie was raised by the facility and in turn they were able to shape her into the perfect assassin. She always feels better in heels though.

Bloody person holding Teddy bear: because of her being kidnapped at a young age, she lost a lot of her childhood. She resorts back to having a childlike nature when she feels safe to do it. I like to think Jaimie has stickers all over her holdings cell because Mcgee brings them in.

☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

I'm going to do Whumpee's as well. This will b3 Whumpee from Sp Special Containment.

Just a reminder Whumpee is genderless.

Whumpee is baby... and everyone but Mitch would agree. A dangerous baby, but none the less.

Not much is known on how Whumpee ended up becoming a human weapon, they barely remember what happened.

They were so lucky to get Mitch as a trainer. That impatient ass was told to break Whumpee any means necessary. Whumpee had worked so hard to hold onto what little they had left.

Honestly Aramais doesn't even know what Mitch did to Whumpee, but Aramais will protect Whumpee at any cost now.

Pic time:

Person with shadows: Whumpee has severe mental health problem thanks to Mitch. They have been known to lose control of their survival mode when having an episode. Their inner world is brutal.

Patient being helped: This made me instantly think of Caretaker. It was the best move for Caretaker to take over Whumpee. Whumpee needed the patient understanding love from him to help them get settled into the facility.

Holding a Teddy bear: Whumpee is still young, the organization ruined a lot of Whumpee's childhood as well. They love these soft objects so much, and it makes it so much better to hug one.

Should I do the Director and four caregivers next?

[jump-in-the-whump]

HI!!! I hope your day's going well!!!

I have a shorty whumpee (Yugi Muto to be precise). Could I get some whump and/or fluff prompts for him and his "stepfather" Kaiba? The stepfather is slightly stoic, but has softened a little over the course of the story.

You don' t have to know or have watched the show, would just like some shorty whumpee x slightly stoic caretaker prompts!

Just trying to get ideas for part 2, ty!

Hello!! Thank you so much for the ask! I'm doing well and I hope you too <3

Not knowing the show, I’m really generic on this, but here’s something for you, I hope you like these!

______________________________________________________

Whumpee laid in bed, their features drawn and pallid, their teeth chattering because of the fever. "I understand," They replied softly, their voice tinged with resignation. "You don't have to stay. I'll manage somehow."

Caretaker sighed, running a hand through their own hair as they paced the room. "Ah… it’s just that… I mean… I told you to take care of yourself…” Caretaker hesitated as they looked at Whumpee, who looked even smaller wrapped in the thick blankets, and then sighed again.

"I'll stay," Caretaker murmured, their voice barely above a whisper. "But only for a little while."

They ended up staying there the whole day.

______________________________________________________

Whumpee, blood pouring from their wounded leg, staggered beside Caretaker, their breaths labored and their steps unsteady.

Caretaker, towering over them, grumbled, their voice tinged with frustration as they glanced back at their injured friend. "Whumpee, come on…"

Whumpee winced, their face contorting with pain as they struggled to keep pace. "I'm trying, Caretaker. But it hurts like hell," they replied through gritted teeth.

Caretaker sighed heavily, avoiding making direct eye contact with Whumpee, but then they caught a glimpse of their leg. Whumpee was losing a lot of blood. Caretaker stared at Whumpee for a while and then closed the distance between them. Without warning, Caretaker picked up Whumpee effortlessly, since they were so small and weak.

"W-what are you…?" Whumpee tried to ask, but Caretaker interrupted them. "I can't wait for you all day, can I?" They answered, trying to mask their concern, but failing.

______________________________________________________

"Can I hold your hand?" Whumpee's voice broke as they asked, their figure appearing fragile and delicate in the soft light. Caretaker hesitated, ready to decline, but when their gaze lifted, they saw Whumpee's hand trembling, reaching out tentatively towards them.

“Alright…” With a sigh, the Caretaker relented, their own hand enveloping Whumpee's smaller, sweaty palm. The size difference was stark, and despite the initial hesitation, a pang of concern washed over Caretaker as they felt the tremors in Whumpee's touch.

Caretaker squeezed Whumpee's hand. "Hey, it'll be fine, you'll see..." the Caretaker replied softly, their voice carrying a tenderness that wasn't there before.

______________________________________________________

"You should've learned basic first aid, Whumpee," Caretaker muttered through clenched teeth, the frustration evident in their voice as they glanced at the makeshift bandages already stained with blood. With a begrudging sigh, Caretaker continued, "I’m no expert too, you know?” their words laced with irritation, yet their hands moved with unexpected delicacy as they attempted to stop the flow of blood, the crimson staining their fingertips.

A heavy silence settled in the room, broken only by the rhythmic sound of Whumpee's strained breathing, their form appearing almost childlike as they lied on the messy bed.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you played nurse…" Whumpee chuckled weakly, a feeble attempt at lightening the mood. Almost unwillingly, Caretaker cracked a smile.

"Don't get used to it!" Caretaker retorted, their tone softened. “I'm only doing this because I don't want to see you pass out. That must really be a sorry sight!” they added with a hint of wry humor.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

I notice many pieces of writing in which whumpee is so heavily conditioned or just so naturally shy that they have almost no personality or assertiveness - their only clear trait seems to be vulnerability. They constantly stutter, they're unfamiliar with the very concept of kindness, they struggle with basic tasks, they may even act childlike, etc. This might be the most common kind of whumpee that I see, especially in pet whump. I can see the appeal of a whumpee who's as timid and fragile as that (it makes every wrong done to them seem all the more heartless, and never takes focus away from the whump itself). But I can also see the appeal of a whumpee with a more rigid personality, with more agency, and with fleshed-out personal goals, beliefs, and memories (which add conflict and make the character more relatable). So, I'm curious:

[sideblogformindtrash]

Here's a test drabble I suppose.

Cw: whipping, multiple whumpers, threat of noncon, defiant whumpee, threat of murder, cheating

For a moment, there's only the sound of panting, the chains rattling on the rhythm of Crows breathing. 

His arms are spread open, his knees on the cold floor, already bruising, jaw aching as he grits his teeth, trying not to scream. 

It's not the first time he's been in such pain, but it's been a while. Although battle wounds are nasty, you don't quite feel them in the heat of the moment.

"Come on, Raine. Isn't that enough?" Wolf's voice sounds muffled, rough behind the bone mask. He's panting too, sweat dripping down his bare chest, the whip hanging from his hands. Crow would find that exciting in the right situation, but this ain't it. 

"Don't call me that during work, Wolfie!" When he talks, the Lamb throws his voice a pitch higher than it should be, curls his tongue, and wiggles his body around, a little pout in his face, almost childlike "Besides, what type of ruler would I be if I made empty treats??"

"Hard to he worse than you already are" Crow tries to laugh, but it hurts him badly, and throws him in a cough fit. The chains rattle widely, and the movement shakes the cuts upon his back. He spits blood. 

The Lamb just stares, wiggling around, hands behind his back, his little fluffy tail shaking. He looks innocent and adorable, and Crow hates him for it."

"You are too coward to hurt me yourself" Crows stares, hoping his eyes show how angry he feels. 

"Guiltyyyyyyy~" The Lamb sings and dwells into a giggle "But you were warned. So you don't you don't get to complain now"

"Baby… you are right… but… he's so hurt already" the Wolf says, his expression might be hidden under the mask, but the concern leaks through his voice. 

"Oh wolfie" the Lamb curls forward, swinging back and forth on his heels, thar same undisturbed smile "Do you really think that or are you worried cause you sleep with him behind my back?"

Crow does his best to stay neutral, but he's exhausted,  and his expression betrays him. Not that it matters, the Lamb isn't looking at him.

The Wolf has his mask and yet, Lamb reads him perfectly - the tensing up of his shoulders, the harder grip on the whip, slowly forming drops of sweat. 

"Did you reaaaallly think you could hide that from me, Wolfie?" 

The wolf takes a tiny step back, trying to calm himself. 

"I- Lamb I- you always said it was okay if-" 

Lamb silences him with a gesture. He leans against Wolf's chest, tracing it with his fingertips, exploring the little scars on his chest. 

"Yeah yeah of course~ you have needs, that's so so okay" he purrs, nuzzling "But you shouldn't sleep with someone who wants me dead"

"What, no no no. Come on, it's not like that- he doesn't wish you harm"

"...I very much do" Crow says. He knows it isn't helping but, its ridiculous to even try and deny it in this situation. 

"Is he really that good?" Lamb pouts, crossing his arms and staring at the mask "Maybe I should fuck him too??"

"I'll bite your fucking dick off" Crow growls, the idea of being Lambs plaything making him sick. 

"You'd have a hard time doing that I'm afraid"

The Wolf tossed the mask aside. It's pointless now, messy hair drenched in sweat, gripping around his face. 

He takes Lambs hand, makes him spin, so they are facing. Nuzzles, rubs his teeth around his neck. 

"I'd never let them hurt. Or anyone for that matter. Not even yourself" he kisses his neck just slightly, Lamb shivering and losing some of his posture. 

"Are you really trying to protect me… or are you protecting him, Wolfie?" For the first time, Crow notices the pain. 

Sometimes, when Lamb's posture cracks just a little… there's so much pain there. An entire ocean, inside a fragile shell

Crow would feel bad for him, in different circumstances. But the world was kind to no one and they were all rotten inside, no one in this room was worthy of pity or mercy. 

"Alright" Lamb finally says, after the tense silence. He lets Wolf have the key "Drop him at the border. And, you, Crow. Stay out of my fucking business. Next time I catch you snooping, I'll feed you to the generator"

He was preparing a snarky comeback, but he kicks Crow, making him curl up and in turn, tug at the wounds again. The only sound is a little grasp of pain. 

The Lamb disappears into the spiral staircase, and he's left with the Wolf. 

"I'm sorry- Crow I-"

"Shut the fuck up. Just get me home" he yelps through the pain, and the Wolf gives him this cold resigned look, as he opens the shackles. 

Crow falls, blood returning to his arms and making them hurt worse than his back. He moans, curling up, as Wolf helps him back to his feet. 

"...Do you hate me?" Wolf whispers, taking him out of the stupid dungeon. 

"There's not enough hours in a day to hate every motherfucker who wronged me in this town" Crow says, giggling bitter. Wolf seems to find that comforting. 

[whumpshaped]

Strength

Dollhouse Masterlist

patrons got this chapter a whole week early !! if u wanna get the chapters as soon as they come out, u could totally sign up for just one or two euros per month !

trigger warnings: lady whumper, lady whumpee, restrained, multiple whumpees, mention and aftermath of noncon bodymod, defiant whumpee, shocked with stun gun, self-sacrifice, mention of noncon drugging/amputation, dehumanisation

“That’s it, slowly.”

Dusk had been blindfolded with a soft ribbon, the same one used to tie his hands behind his back. He was then led into another room, presumably, since Grace warned him about the threshold, and now he was being gently guided deeper inside the mystery space – the torture chamber, for all he knew.

“What’s going on?” he asked meekly, utterly out of character for the fiery young man he’d come here as.

“I want you to meet someone.”

Dusk swallowed thickly. He’d met people here before. He’d met Grace, first and foremost, the sadistic but somehow also wildly childlike puppet master of the dollhouse. That had already been a bad start to this experience. Then he was told to get acquainted with some of the… dolls.

Dottie and Basil freaked him out. One of them was clearly 90% artificial and plastic, while the other was drugged out of their mind, unable to even move. Muffin and Berry were even worse, the twins with their mouths sewn shut, in their freaky, matching outfits, god, Dusk wanted nothing to do with them. Honeydew seemed… normal, at first glance, until he realised that she was completely out of her mind, obsessed with pleasing Grace. He could understand it, really. He just didn’t like the fact that she represented a very plausible future path he might’ve been heading down on.

There was one named Pepper, he knew it in the back of his head. He’d heard them scream and yell at Grace on multiple occasions while he was lying on her carpet blindfolded, gagged and restrained. He’d always flinched, but then he found himself rooting for them. They seemed like someone he could get along with, maybe an ally, a friend. Someone he could imagine helping him escape.

He didn’t know any of the other dolls. He didn’t know how many more there were, but he was now sure that he was about to meet another one. The seventh. God, how many people was Grace keeping in her house? How did no one know about it?

“Alright. Ready to meet my sweet Ginger?”

“I, I don’t know- why did I have to be blindfolded?”

“Ginger has just had surgery not long ago,” she murmured, uncomfortably close to his skin. “You know, when I pick people from the street, it’s because they have potential. They’re far from perfect. I had to alter her body a little, and I didn’t want you to panic at the sight of some blood and scarring.”

Dusk suddenly felt faint. Surgery… body alteration… Grace might alter his body without ever consulting him about it beforehand. Without him having a choice. What was it? Taking out a rib? Cutting off limbs, like she’d done with Dottie? He couldn’t even imagine.

Grace untied the ribbon and pulled it away, letting Dusk finally open his eyes and observe his surroundings. The room was bright and pink, just like everything seemed to be around here. There was nothing but a bed in there, with a fragile looking girl on top of it, her thin, boney ankle chained to one of the legs. Dusk could immediately see why her name was Ginger.

Her long, naturally red hair fell around her body like a protective shield as she sat there with her knees pulled up all the way to her chest. She was hugging her legs close, and Dusk couldn’t ignore how thin those arms were, he just couldn’t ignore how thin the entire girl was. He knew from experience that Grace liked to starve her dolls, but somehow even the ones he couldn’t picture being capable of eating looked like they were in better condition than her.

“Ginger, dollie, don’t make a fuss. Look up here.” Grace snapped her fingers, as one would do with a dog, not a human being.

“Go to hell.”

Dusk flinched back from how determined and strong her voice sounded. From such a broken body… He couldn’t help but feel adrenaline wash over his entire being. Yes, Ginger was quite right. He couldn’t just give up either. If she could still find the strength to talk back like that, he could certainly afford to be a little less compliant and pathetic.

He straightened his back and looked at the woman beside him, waiting for a response. Grace merely smiled.

“Are you still upset about your surgery?”

“I’m upset that people like you can walk this earth freely!” she snapped, finally raising her head. Her green eyes bore into her captor’s, staring her down with such intensity that Dusk was sure Grace was about to back down. He would’ve. But of course, a person like him would also not keep eight people captive. Eight and counting.

“How unfortunate that a pretty face like yours should be contorted with rage. How… ugly.” She grabbed Dusk by the chin unexpectedly, squishing his cheeks and turning his head towards Ginger. “Look here, how calm my little Dusk is. Such a pretty doll, isn’t he?”

“I don’t care!” She was shaking with helpless anger, but she didn’t move an inch. Dusk had a feeling that the chain would’ve stopped her just before she could get her hands on Grace. Maybe he could’ve pushed her towards the bed, and maybe then-

“Don’t get any funny ideas.”

Dusk came back to reality, a shiver running down his spine when he realised Grace was staring straight at him. She couldn’t read minds, right? “I’m n-not.”

Ginger scoffed, and Grace hummed approvingly. He wanted the earth to swallow him whole. He could afford to be a little less compliant. Right. It had sounded nice in his head, before the time came to actually act on it.

“Good. See, I think you two would make an adorable little couple. Like Coral and Anise, have you seen how cute they are?”

Dusk’s stomach churned. Grace wanted to control even that? She wanted to couple them up? Just based on… who knows what? Her own skewed standards of what was cute? Not to mention Coral and Anise were both names he hadn’t heard before. That meant there were two more dolls he had never met, bringing the doll count up to fucking ten. Ten captives, forced to act like dolls in a dollhouse.

“I’ll starve myself to death before I stand next to a coward like him.” Ginger’s words cut deeper than Grace’s medical scalpel ever had before. Dusk could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Was this how Pepper would’ve reacted to him as well? Maybe he was looking for friends in the wrong department. Maybe he should’ve stuck with the weird ones, the cowards, the ones that were apparently more like him.

No. No, this was perfect. Ginger was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in ages.

“Your stupid artificial relationships do nothing but show how pathetic you are,” Dusk blurted out, and he could feel his throat seize up immediately, like a late warning. Ginger’s eyes lit up at the unexpected defiance.

“Oh, wonderful! You’re already acting like a little team!” Grace brought her hands together with a sharp clap, in an expression of pure delight. “I knew this was going to be absolutely perfect!”

Dusk had no time to react before she grabbed him by the arm and pushed him towards the bed, and with his hands bound behind him, he almost fell on top of the fragile doll - thankfully, she was faster, pushing him to the side and making him land on the uncomfortable bed. He scrambled to get back on his knees so he could move away from her, but just as he straightened his back, he felt something press against it. Something that eerily reminded him of the feel of Grace’s stun gun.

“Not so fast, my little Prince Charming. I gotta see how you two look together before I commit to this.”

For the first time, Ginger seemed scared. Her knees weren’t pulled up against her chest anymore, and Dusk caught a glimpse of the bandages that were enveloping her chest and torso, keeping whatever injury she’d sustained hidden from the outside world. There really was no other way to describe her: she was fragile. Delicate. Dusk felt like any violating touch would make her shatter and turn to dust in his hands.

But then the fear passed, and her expression went back to that determined one. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she wasn’t going to let them betray her and trickle down her pale cheeks. She looked up at Dusk, sending a very clear message with those sharp eyes. You can prove yourself now. But even if you fail the test, I won’t. Even if you end up caving and hurting me, I won’t just break like you did.

He wouldn’t break for Grace, he decided. She might’ve thought he was just about the perfect doll for her by now, but she had been wrong. Because even if he hadn’t been able to stand up for himself, his own sanity, and his own autonomy, he wasn’t going to back down when it was another person’s life on the line.

“Whatever you want from me,” he started quietly, pressing further back against the stun gun, “I won’t do it. I’m not touching her.”

“Are you sure?” she purred. “I can’t zap her with that fresh wound. And she would take it anyway, with that willpower of hers. You’re not that strong.”

“You’re the weakest link of this entire princess castle.” His voice shook as he said it, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t as strong as Ginger, he had deduced that already. But her show of strength and ability to ignite some fire within him did make him realise one thing - anyone carrying on inside this hell was stronger than Grace could ever hope to be.

“You’re gonna be so much fun when you’re finally included in some real play sessions.”

Pain rippled through his body like lightning, making him scream. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever experienced, but it was definitely up there. By the time Grace pulled the device away, he was hunched over and panting, tears hitting the mattress under him like in quick succession. Drip. Drip. Drip.

“I just want a little kiss. A peck on the lips. I’m not asking for much, not yet.”

“I’m asking you to go and fuck yourself,” he croaked out, and the pain started up again.

During the small breaks he was getting, he was able to get a look at Ginger’s face. It reminded him of all those times he’d heard the other dolls screaming but still cussing Grace out. And in that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that this time, they were rooting for him.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @lonesome--hunter @reblogging-whump @panic-and-chaos @damienxozmoze @kim-poce @uwu-scraptrappy @mikaelaix @whumpinggrounds

[triforce-of-mischief]

hihihi this if for the ask game!!! Are there words, phrases, mannerisms or scenes you tend to use a lot? I love Overcome so much dhjsndnsnssnsn

helloooo! hmm this could be a good exercise for me, i usually try to ignore how much i overuse things out of Shame but this is fanfiction blah blah blah i can do what i want

~words~

(off the top of my head...) sigh, hum, whimper, whine, fidget, scared, choke, sob

~mannerisms~

legend fidgeting with his clothes/jewelry, people hyperventilating when they panic, red acting almost childlike but still emotionally mature, warriors being hesitant to touch unless he has to, EXPRESSIVE EARS

~scenes~

ok so this is actually something interesting i noticed and want to analyze sometime- a very common pattern in my fics is that something will go wrong, causing whumpee to be stuck in bed or similar. caretaker leaves for a few minutes and we get some of whumpee's pained and scared internal monologue. then caretaker returns for reassurance, healing and cuddles. this happens in sicktember 11, trust fall, sicktember 12, and probably some more i'm forgetting because I'm Just Like That. something about being vulnerable and alone but then their trusted one comes back... i like it :)

[whump-on-a-string]

I'm so weak for soft/comfort whump with childlike whumpees. My traumatized ass brain loves that shit.

Whump where whumpee is drugged/hypnotized/brainwashed by whumper to be easier to handle and work with, but also to keep them like their new pet or kid to take care of. Maybe carewhumper. Whumpee can be comfy and have lil toys and treats when they're behaving and be a good bean & not worry about normal adult life shit.

Slightly potentially fucked up/soft escapist comfort whump. o|-<

Like pet whump but in a more "human respectful" soft flavor.

[whumpcloud]

The God of Isonmore

content: god whumpee, genderless whumpee, defiant whumpee, winged whumpee, stress positions, whumpee unable to disobey (through magical means but they're mad about it), child caretaker, royal whumper

"That's a god?"

Alios does not speak. If they do, their ears will ring with the force of the blow they will receive. That's the fun of it. Lyell could easily command them unable to speak, and yet doesn't, for an excuse to hurt them if they disobey.

Still, all pain is the same to them. It's a sensation they haven't grown accustomed to since losing their Source. They didn't know that it would cause them to learn what pain was. How could they? A god has not lost their Source for eons.

"The god of Isonmore," Lyell says, that smug, stupid smile on his face. So proud of himself for ensnaring a god. "They make a wonderful trophy, do they not?"

A trophy of war. Is this what they are reduced to?

The little girl looks up at them. "...but isn't it wrong to keep them?"

Yes, they want to say. Yes, little girl, this is wrong. Please don't believe the words of a man who would strip away the will of a god.

"Of course not, Cecile!" Lyell smiles at her, and lifts her up into his arms. "Not when I'll rule over Isonmore soon."

Their arms and wings are tired of holding this position.

"Why don't they just leave?" Cecile asks, childlike innocence in her expression.

"They can't," Lyell says, and pulls the jewel hanging around his neck out from under his shirt. "Because I have this."

It sparkles in the light, shifting colours and shapes contained within the infinite transparency. Their Source. A symbol of the power the gods wield, power that should never be in mortal hands. Power that will corrupt, though, Alios thinks bitterly, it's not as if Lyell needs help in that regard.

They want to take it back. They will themself to reach for it, but their will is not their own, anymore. What is a king to a god? And what is a god to a king with more power in his hands than he can fathom?

Cecile brushes her fingers over it. "What does it do?"

"It means they have to do what I tell them to," Lyell says, then looks towards Alios. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," they say, as willed, and then nothing is binding them. "Do you not get tired of puppetry? In front of your daughter, no less."

They are suddenly willed to drop from the position they have been forced into for the past few hours. They gasp in relief, and at the new pain this has caused them. Every muscle seizes. This is why they never take mortal form. Why they never should have done so in the first place.

"Cecile," Lyell says softly, "go do something else for a little while. I'll come find you."

Cecile huffs, but she leaves. Lyell turns to Alios, still shaking on the floor, and grabs them by the chin. He doesn't bother commanding them to stay still. He knows they couldn't move even if they wanted to.

"Don't speak to me that way," Lyell says, nails digging into Alios' jaw. "And do not speak about or to my daughter."

"You could have stopped me," Alios spits.

Their teeth cut a bloody line in their lip when Lyell slaps them.

Alios wipes the blood from their face, eyes closed, trying to avoid looking at such a clear sign of their current predicament. Blood. They hadn't ever bled before their capture.

"I can easily be an outlet for your sadism without the games," they say quietly.

"Oh, but the games are what makes it interesting." Lyell is letting their Source hang in front of them, dangling it so tantalisingly close. "I want you to choose to be obedient."

This is beneath them. Mortal games, the way they parade prisoners as trophies, their wars and their power trips and their unadulterated violence. They abandoned this world for a reason, and now they can't escape it.

"I will never willingly be obedient to a king," Alios says, forcing their voice to stay steady.

Lyell laughs. "You will. There's plenty of time for that, yet."

"My siblings will come for me." Alios doesn't truly believe that, but they want to. They need to. "You're only cursing yourself."

"You must know your reputation," Lyell smiles. "You've been missing for the last few thousand years. Isonmore hasn't believed in you for the last two hundred. I would be surprised if even your siblings still did."

Alios wants to scream. They only wanted to step in to protect their people in battle. An idiotic, emotional part of them cared for once, and this is what they've been given in return. They should've stayed isolated, emotionless, above everyone and everything. That is their place as a god, though they know and ignore that their siblings would disagree.

But they are on their knees in front of a king they are unable to disobey, and the anger they are unused to feeling has nowhere to go.

"Did that finally stun you to silence?" Lyell straightens up, and tucks their Source back into his shirt. "How peaceful."

"I am a god," Alios hisses. "Do not forget that."

"Don't think I have!" Lyell grins and turns to leave. "Stay as you are."

Alios cannot even clench their fists or wrap their wings around themself to block out the world. They are trapped on their knees, gaze tilted to the floor, and they are seething.

They can only hear, not see, the tiptoe of a child out from behind a pillar when Lyell exits the room. Cecile silently approaches Alios. She must have been hiding here the entire time.

She seems nervous, fidgeting with her fingers when she comes into view. Then she suddenly reaches out and touches Alios' wing.

Alios is incapable of recoiling, and snaps instead. "Don't touch me!"

Cecile jumps back. "I-I'm sorry!"

Alios exhales, and does not look at her.

Biting her lip, Cecile steps in front of Alios, and kneels down to look at their face. "Are you hurt?"

"Yes, I am." Alios can't reign in their harsh tone. "Well done for noticing. You aren't a total imbecile."

Cecile frowns, and folds her arms. "You're not very nice."

"You're expecting me to be nice, Princess?" Alios snarls. "Would you be nice, in my position?"

She flinches. "My tutors say you should always be nice, even if you're mad…"

Cecile is only a child. She hasn't learned the apathy and hate of humanity yet. She will, but Alios cannot blame her for what she does not know. And they breathe in, and breathe out.

"They are right," Alios says, softer this time. "I… apologise."

"Thank you for apologising," Cecile says, and it's obviously a learned phrase, but it's sincere. "I'll… be back."

She runs off, and Alios mumbles a prayer. They don't think their sister will hear them. They don't think she would listen if she did. But they are in her kingdom, among her people, and the part of them that they've tried so hard to lock away knows any hope is better than no hope at all.

Cecile returns, a little bowl of water and a cloth in her hands. She dips the cloth into the water, and very gently dabs at Alios' bleeding lip, trying to wipe the blood away. Alios flinches, but lets her, with what little choice they have.

"There," she smiles, drying where she's washed. "I hope you feel a little better."

Alios doesn't say a word.

"You know," Cecile pouts, "you're supposed to say thank you when people help you."

"...thank you," Alios mumbles.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Hello! Long-time lurker, first-time caller. I would absolutely adore any thoughts you may have on the innocent/naïve whumpee? Hope you’re having a nice day. You’re awesome! 💛

one of my favorite types of whumpees besides 'villain turned whumpee' type of whumpee.

but when I say innocent/naive whumpee, I don't mean 'whumpee that won't stop crying and begging and hiding away in a far corner' type of whumpee, I mean 'whumpee that is so innocent they don't know there's cruelty in this world, whumpee that is so innocent they don't know there are bad people capable of violent things in this world, whumpee that is so innocent they don't know they are going to be tortured even when they're already captured by whumper. whumpee that is so innocent they still have that childlike smile on their face as they're being led to the room in which the torture will take place. whumpee that is so innocent they don't even hate whumper for hurting them. whumpee that is so innocent the only things they feel are fear and confusion (why they're being hurt, what they did wrong, they don't understand why they're being hurt), whumpee that is so innocent that — after caretaker rescued and nursed them back to health — they can still give caretaker that same, old childlike smile; because despite what they went through, they didn't lose that innocence within them' type of whumpee.

also thank you for the kind words, anon. I hope you have a lovely day too!

[anigst]

Hi friend. I have a question. Any recs for anime’s that use the amnesia trope? I love a good “who are you?”/“who am I?” Panicked whumpee and all his friends are freaking out lol

heyy<3

sorry the only anime that comes to mind is Bleach. in ep 194 it's revealed that Nel is one of the Espada, but she forgot her memories and her body regressed to a childlike because of Nnoitra's attack. there are also instances where Ichigo forgets what he's done when Hollow takes over his body, ep 272 for example, when Ichigo finally wakes up, he's horrified to see that he stabbed his friend Uryuu and cut off the arm and leg of Ulquiorra.

this's a really good trope I'd like to see more of it!! anyone would like to recommend me and anon more anime with this trope?<3

[boxboysandotherwhump]

Had a ton of fun drawing @ashintheairlikesnow merboy. Poor baby misses his family soooo much 💔