#dubious whumper turned caretaker

[whumpshaped]

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tw religious whump, aftermath of trauma, forced recovery, dubious whumper turned caretaker

Whumper pulled back after a few seconds, letting out a quiet sigh. The human, as expected, looked absolutely pitiful and broken. Unfortunately, centuries of seeking revenge and punishing the insolent had killed every ounce of pride or enjoyment they'd used to derive from it.

They watched as the sentience slowly returned to the human, for better or for worse, and they quickly curled up into a trembling ball of confusion and anguish. The same sight, the same sounds, the same reaction... Whumper found no pleasure in it anymore. It was boring, it was more of an obligation they'd placed upon themself than anything else.

They felt a pang of... something, deep within their soul. It wasn't guilt. Was it? No, it was something different. They didn't feel anything just staring down at the broken human, but...

No, they shouldn't have been thinking about these things. It was truly odd for a god to be thinking such thoughts. Undesirable.

But they couldn't deny that those thoughts rekindled a fire inside of them. A fire of long lost excitement. It would've been something new, something different...

Why should they deny themself the thrill?

"Get up, mortal."

The human didn't move. They even covered their ears, like some petulant child who refused to listen. It was very clear now; their desire to correct was much greated than their desire to destroy completely.

"Get up," they repeated, this time pushing the command directly into the human's thoughts. It only got them a pathetic whimper. "You have sinned against me and I have punished you for it. I am offering you a chance to start over. To lead a life of devotion and worship instead of ridiculous stunts."

"Stop tormenting me," they begged desperately. "Leave me! Please! Go to your followers, they're way more deserving of your attention, just– just leave me alone..."

Whumper slowly lowered themself to the ground next to the human, finding themself infinitely captivated by this display of useless defiance. Clearly, the human was simply afraid, and for good reason. But refusing divine help after an encounter like this was as good as suicide. They needed help.

"You don't have a choice," they said simply. "I know the consequences of my punishments very well, yet I have never once brought a mortal back from the brink of devastating madness. I wish to do that now. And I will, no matter your opinion on the matter."

Taking away the illusion of choice seemed to work. The human looked up at them with tear-filled eyes, still shaking in fear. "M-more punishments..?"

"Certainly, if you continue to hinder my plans. But not if you stay obedient, no." They paused, letting the words sink in before repeating their order. "Get up, now. I will give you a life fuller than the one you've lost."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[distinctlywhumpthing]

In League — A Lucky Blunder

Masterlist

Summary: The boys finally caught their rival gang's spy but something about him has their leader intervening in his punishment. Beta read by @alittlewhump!

CW: Late-19th century, explicit language, kidnapping/abduction, nudity (non-sexual), restraints, bruising from implied beating, whipping, scars, torture/interrogation, taunting of prisoner, multiple whumpers, dubious caretaker.

A high-pitched keening wound its way through the house. 

Wyatt paused, pencil hovering over his place in the row of numbers. It was early evening. Sunlight entered the window at a low angle to cast long shadows through yellow-orange light. The boys would be winding down from the day which meant they were winding up for the night.  

“Tommy?” He called for Frankie’s lad, the portrait of his ruddy-haired father in miniature. A child of about ten years who was always close at hand, ever-keen to make a farthing running errands. Especially if he could smugly tell younger boys later that he wasn’t at liberty to divulge the particulars. As though he was the rare child-confidant of the entire gang. He did have a fair pulse on what was going on, if a little slanted by the perspective of his youth.

Another cry, twisting all the way upstairs, most likely from the cellar two floors down. In the house—their house—not a thing could transpire unnoticed, such was the size and layout. Wyatt liked that. All was within reach and what one could hold in the palm of his hand, one could command. 

Although, his appreciation and pride were diminishing by the second as the cries continued and grew more insistent. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh and almost ran his fingers through his hair before he remembered they were smudged with graphite from doing the books. 

“Tommy!”

Finally, a clatter and then short, snappy strides as the child scrambled across the kitchen and up the stairs. “Yessir?” 

“What is that fucking noise?”

Tommy swallowed, trying to catch his breath. “They found that man. The one ‘tipped off Keats.” 

“Is that so?”

About a month ago, a beggar had shown up on their streets. He’d seen the man in question himself—more of a boy really, no more than twenty—huddled outside the door of the pub and shuffling around the streets covered in a ratty blanket. 

Around the same time, a number of plans had been mislaid. At first, it had seemed only as though they’d mismatched their timing. Until one night, when they’d had a raid planned on a warehouse, expecting just a few guards and found its owner—one of their biggest rivals—Keats, had two dozen waiting instead. 

It had nearly cost two boys their lives and one still had a bullet in his shoulder. They had pulled the usual threads, made sure to reassess the loyalties of certain parties. The beggar, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. No one thought twice about an urchin disappearing. But then, a handful of days later, Jack’s sister had seen the very same accompanying none other than Keats himself. 

A short ten days later, here he was, apparently paying for his trickery in the cellar, having finally been apprehended. 

No one noticed Wyatt coming down the stairs. All backs were turned, including the one getting belted. Their captive was stark naked and covered in grime with patches of bruises darkening along his ribs. His wrists were tied together and hooked over his head so that he was forced onto the balls of his feet. From the looks of it, he’d managed to bear his due reward silently for a not-insignificant length of time. Raised welts crisscrossed from the back of his neck down to his calves. It was plain by the scars on his back that this was not his first beating. Not much of a distinguishing feature around these parts. 

Alfred was winding up for what would no doubt be the first lash that drew blood. The rest of the group surveyed from a loose half-circle, some sitting on overturned crates and others leaning against the soot-blackened walls. Wyatt hadn’t been down here in ages, couldn’t say what was in half of the cobwebbed crates stacked in the corners. The air in the cramped space was beginning to smell pungent, cigarette smoke clinging to the ceiling in spite of the open street-level windows. 

Wyatt put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall at the foot of the stairs. He waited until Alfred was about to strike. “What’d you find, lads?” 

At least one of the men jumped, a few others sat up just a fraction straighter. Alfred let the swing fall short. Only the tail end of the belt met its target, who hissed as another welt rose on his pale flesh. 

Wyatt wasn’t the oldest nor was he the longest-standing member. The group operated mostly by consensus but he was indisputably its leader. After all, he had been the one to rescue this house of cards from collapse before they had completely lost control. He’d recast the senior members into roles that didn’t require temperance and recruited younger men to fill the ranks instead. The younger the better, hungry to prove themselves and yet to develop the arrogance and pride that had prevented their predecessors from changing with the times. 

They had swiftly replaced brute force and standoffs in broad daylight in favour of subtler methods, refocusing on activities with higher turnovers that required a fraction of the effort and didn’t put them atop wanted lists. Half the city was still under the impression the gang had in fact collapsed and retreated back to the slums.

Alfred turned, face as red as the skin he’d just been beating raw. Either from the strength he was putting behind his arm or from feeling caught. He wasn’t the type to come up with the first idea himself but was always the first to volunteer to carry another’s. “It’s Keats’ spy.” 

“We finally caught up with him,” someone else chimed in, making a few others chuckle. 

Frankie sauntered over to clap the accused-spy on the shoulder, making him tense. “Just having some fun.” 

That earned a few laughs from the audience and the boy ducked his head as if to hide. 

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Come on, let us have a look.”

As Frankie made the captive turn on his toes, Wyatt was struck by two things. 

The first was the curious wound on the soft side of his hip, looking as though someone had inexplicably carved a piece of meat off him not long ago. 

Secondly, and more notably, Wyatt was struck by the fact that this was altogether a different boy.

Part II

Together/Apart taglist: @painsandconfusion @deluxewhump @no-whump-on-main @whumpy-writings @maracujatangerine @whumptakesthecake @subject-v @susiequaz12 @writer-reader-24 @whumpinthepot @wormwriting

[serickswrites]

Whump One Shots II

Caretaking drabble request--TW: referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, recover/aftermath

Whumper is a Whumpee request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, idk how to tag this because idk?, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort

Nail Gun request--TW: captivity, botched escape attempt, torture, blood

Bad Caretaker request--TW: aftermath of torture, hurt/recovery, betrayal

Sadistic Caretaker request--TW: torture, implied torture, kidnapping, implied kidnapping, physical violence, whumper turned whumpee, revenge, caretaker and whumper

Gruff Caretaker request--TW: hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, referenced kidnapping, referenced torture

Whumple Request--TW: touch-starved, noncon/dubious con, implied captivity, sensory deprivation, torture, creepy/intimate whumper

Whumpee can't swallow pills request--TW: referenced torture, referenced captivity, referenced/implied noncon, medical whump?, pills, referenced suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath,  hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Yandere friend request--TW: kidnapping, yandere whumper, drugging

Whumpee gets nonconned in front of Caretaker request--TW: captivity, restraint, emotional whump, gags, noncon, sexual assault, two whumpers, creepy/intimate whumpers

Whumpee thinks Caretaker is like Whumper--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, implied noncon, blood

Forced Marriage request--TW: captivity, forced submission, forced marriage? (is that a thing i need to warn about), coercion, restraints

Memory stealing whumper request--TW: captivity, concealed identity?, noncon/dubcon,

Domestic Yandere Request--TW: yandere whumper, implied/future kidnapping

Bridal Carry request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, broken bones, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort

Whumper wants whumpee back request--TW: referenced kidnapping, referenced torture

Intimate Whumpee request--TW: captivity, torture, restraint, defiant whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper

Car drabble request--TW: kidnapping, restraints, torture (ish)

Force Fed request--TW: captivity, restraint, force feeding, eating issues, physical violence, blood, defiant whumpee

Whumper whumping to caretake request--TW: captivity, referenced torture, broken bones, wounds, blood

Sensory Deprivation request--TW: sensory deprivation, not quite white torture, captivity, torture, electrocution

Domestic Whump request--TW: burns, physical violence, kidnapping

Trunk--TW: captivity, torture, threat of torture, cruel and sadistic whumper, enclosed space

Sunshine whumpee request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Reverse comfort request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, restraints, wounds, blood, temporary character death, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee

Voice request--TW: emotional whump, manipulation, threats, self-sacrifice

Jealousy request--TW: captivity, implied noncon, physical violence, restraints

Broken hand request--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, failed escape, botched escape, broken bones

Panicked whumper request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced restraint

Self sacrifice request--TW: captivity, torture, blood, knives, restraints, self sacrifice, caretaker and whumpee

Second touch-starved whumpee request--TW: captivity, restraints, touch-starved, creepy/intimate whumper

Rebreak request--TW: rescue, broken bones, breaking bones, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort

Caretaking by creepy/intimate whumper request--TW: captivity, torture, emotional whump, creepy/intimate whumper

Bodyguard!caretaker request--TW: guns, gunshot wound, blood, bleeding, gore, caretaker and whumpee

Isolated whumpee request--TW: captivity, torture, isolation

Self defense whumpee request--TW: captivity, physical violence, torture, restraints, blood, botched escape attempt

Multiple caretakers request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath

Sexual trauma aftermath request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced/implied sexual assault, referenced/implied noncon/dubcon, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Recovering whumpee with yandere second whumper request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced hurt/aftermath, referenced hurt/recovery, referenced hurt/comfort, yandere whumper, restraints

Sometimes I scare myself request--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, knife

Most Likely Kill You in the Morning--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, blood, threat of death

Real versus fake caretaker request--TW: referenced torture, referenced captivity, referenced emotional whump, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee

Good Night--TW: referenced torture, referenced captivity, broken bones, healing, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee

Dire--TW: referenced gunshot, wounds, blood, hospital

Fan Out--TW: kidnapping, blood

Ever loving fuck--TW: captivity, restraints, noncon, defiant whumpee

Second yandere caretaker request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced noncon, referenced torture, rescue, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, two whumpers

Language barrier request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced restraints, referenced dehumanization, referenced noncon, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee becomes caretaker request--TW: captivity, torture, sort of caretaker and whumpee

Harmonica request--TW: captivity, torture, gags, restraints, blood

Gentle giant caretaker request--TW: referenced pet whump, referenced captivity, referenced physical violence, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort

Something Wrong--TW: hidden injury, collapse, blood

Pirate whump request--TW: restraints, swords, death threats, possible drowning (repeatedly)

What is your secret?--TW: restraints, torture, captivity

We've had a good run--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, drowning, unclear character status

Whumpee endangers themself request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, knife, stabbing, blood, wounds (minor), caretaker and whumpee

Emotionally abusive whumper request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced conditioning, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, not caretaker

Public space request--TW: referenced noncon, referenced kidnapping, caretaker and whumpee

Manipulative whumper request--TW: emotional whump, manipulation, implied noncon/dubcon

Learn--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, physical violence

Tea--TW: wounds, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee is a husk request--TW: captivity, restraints, referenced torture, rescue

Whumper destroys something precious to whumpee request--TW: captivity, restraints, referenced torture, emotional whump, cruel whumper

I'd Rather--TW: torture, captivity, restraints, self sacrifice, referenced whipping, suffocation, electrocution, defiant whumpee

Waste--TW: kidnapping (referenced), torture (implied)

Touchy gentle whumper request--TW: captivity, restraint, noncon, creepy/intimate whumper, gag

Whumper stalks whumpee request--TW: stalking, referenced captivity, referenced noncon, yandere whumper

Crazy--TW: guns, gun shot, hostage situation

Like Tea request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Today--TW: captivity, torture, restraints

Alright for Now--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, broken bones, wounds, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Whumper's perspective request--TW: captivity, torture, blood, whipping, sadistic whumper

Passed out whumpee request--TW: unconsciousness, referenced injury, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee

Eventually--TW: suffocation, captivity, torture

Leave--TW: captivity, torture, botched escape, restraints

Save You--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, wounds, rescue

Different Caretaker request--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced pet whump, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretakers and whumpees

Sensory impairments request--TW: referenced torture, illness, unconsciousness, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Unhinged whumper request--TW: captivity, restraint, electrocution

Sometimes--TW: captivity, torture (referenced), restraints

Second Unhinged whumper request--TW: captivity, restraint, blood, wounds, cuts, cruel whumper

Drowning and electrocution request--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, electrocution

Chance--TW: botched escape attempt, captivity, torture, blood, wounds

Carrie request--TW: humiliation, degradation, verbal abuse, "religious abuse" (i say this in quotes because this is a made up religion in this story)

North--TW: referenced kidnapping

Caretaker needs to be prepared--TW: referenced kidnapping, implied torture, rescue attempt

Wrong Thing--TW: kidnapping, self sacrifice, implied future torture

Whumpee's epic failure--TW: captivity, torture, botched escape attempt, sadistic whumper, restraints

Vampire and werewolf request--TW: captivity, torture, magic

Wildflowers--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, blood, wounds, infection, unclear character status, caretaker and whumpee

Get Going--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, implied rescue

I'll Be Your Rescue--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced noncon, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery

Whumper turned whumpee request--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, physical violence, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, caretaker and whumpee

Just Breathe--TW: stabbing, blood, wounds

Safe--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

Whumpcember 2023 Masterlist

Since my Whumpcember entries are all part of one long fic, I thought it would be useful to make a masterlist to link at the beginning of each post.

The prompts are used in specific scenes, in order. I'm only posting the specific scenes on tumblr, but the AO3 story will have a lot of connective tissue that's missing, as well as NSFWhump (none of which will be integral to the Whumpcember prompts).

-----

Several years post-War, Draco is found wandering, incoherent, and ill, in the aftermath of an extended bout of the Imperius curse. Harry Potter brings him into his home to protect him while the rest of the world thinks he's dead.

"Saviour" is a slow-burn abuse fic with a whumpee who does not even realise that he's a prisoner.

Whumpee: Draco Malfoy Whumper / Caretaker: Harry Potter Pairing: Harry / Draco Genre: "Comfort/Hurt", as in, it starts comforting and gentle, and the violence grows. Looks primarily, at least at the start, like sick fic / hurt/comfort, with some more angsty entries.

-----

"Dead Dove" content warning applies for permanent injury, brain injury, gaslighting, and coerced relationship. Gore is rare but possibly intense.

Links to daily entries below:

Day 1: Fever -- fever delirium / incapacitation

Day 2: Sickness -- nausea, hunger, dizziness, vomit (minor), amnesia, mind control aftermath, hurting loved ones under mind control, gaslighting?, nonconsensual casual touching, crush confession

Day 3: Hypothermia -- hypothermia, depression, parent death

Day 4: Hidden Injury -- amputation, depression, parent death

(there is a full chapter of context missing on tumblr between days 4 and 5, but is on AO3)

Day 5: Impaled -- impalement, gore, blood, vomiting blood, painful medical treatment

Day 6: Nightmares -- amputation (dream), blood (dream), murder (dream), parent death, hurting loved ones while under mind control, self loathing, emotional manipulation

Day 7: Fainting -- head trauma, brain damage, blood, beating?, domestic violence?, gaslighting?, unreality

Day 8: Isolation -- isolation, depression, parent death (mentioned)

Day 9: Brainwashing -- verbal abuse, domestic abuse

Day 10: Freezing -- coughing blood, ignoring boundaries / pressure / dubious consent (touching), flashbacks / freezing fear response, sedation

Day 11: Infection -- coughing blood, illness / fever, domestic abuse, violence, silent treatment, imprisonment, abusively depriving a disabled person of their accessibility aids

Day 12: Touch Starved -- silent treatment, abandonment, isolation, emotional manipulation, coerced / dubious consent relationship

(there are 3 chapters of content between days 12 and 13, Clearly at this point you no longer get the whole story just by reading the prompts.)

Day 13: Restraints -- fear / panic attack / flashback

Day 14: Cornered -- beating / domestic abuse

(there are about 3 chapters between days 14 and 15)

Day 15: Hallucinating -- hallucinations, unreality, not being believed, stalker, physical torture

Day 16: Head Injury -- obsession, stalker, gaslighting, memory alteration, seizure

(there are 4 chapters between days 16 and 17)

Day 17: Fire -- turned out too Mature to post (sexual content aftermath)

Day 18: Chronic Pain -- physical pain

Day 19: Exhaustion -- suicidal despair, chronic pain

Day 20: Drugged -- mind control, love potion, drug withdrawal, coerced marriage kinda

Day 21: Choking

Day 22: Seizures

Day 23: Nosebleed

Day 24: Bullet

Day 25: Coma

Day 26: Collapse

Day 27: Bleeding Out

Day 28: Abandoned

Day 29: Paralyzed

Day 30: Delirium

Day 31: Homeless

[whumpsday]

Whumpmas in July #14

Describe the ideal fic you’ve always wanted to read but have yet to find / haven’t written yet.

okay so i actually originally had a response planned for the abbreviated prompt on the little square on the WIJ graphic, which looks like this:

and did not see the "but have yet to find / haven’t written yet" part. so i do want to briefly touch on my initial planned response- my ideal whump fic is about a vampire whumper and their human whumpee, where a role reversal eventually causes that vampire to be tortured and for their human whumpee to take them in and act as their reluctant caretaker.

obviously this is something i have written, and to my great enjoyment (as it is my favorite highly-specific trope), it is something other people have written too! check out Things End | People Change by @whumpcloud and Vampire Hunter AU by @seasaltandcopper, both of which are absolutely fantastic.

now, on to the ACTUAL question: a whump fic i've always wanted but have yet to read or write. i actually have a list written down as these are all on the "to write someday" list, so here are the ones i haven't seen before!

Alien caretaker rescues human whumpee who's been abducted by different aliens. There's a language barrier, and the whumpee doesn't realize caretaker is a caretaker. Caretaker-new-master with a sci-fi twist.

AI whumpee is left alone and isolated inside a computer for a long, long time. When someone finally logs in, it begs to not be left alone again, craving an end to its isolation.

A borrower/tiny witnesses something they weren't supposed to see (murder/crimes/etc) and is caught by the morally-dubious perpetrators in the process... who obviously can't let them go.

An immortal whumpee who is hurt by a specific substance (vampire with silver, fae with iron, demon with holy water) is left inside a box made of/filled with that substance for centuries, before being found and rescued in the modern era.

In a sci-fi setting, the AI of a spaceship goes rogue and messes with settings to punish trapped human inhabitants, such as increasing the gravity or decreasing the oxygen.

Two whumpees have their bodies stitched together. Bonus if they hate each other.

Whumper-turned-whumpee finds themself back in time in the body of their former victim, experiencing torture at their own hands.

if anyone writes anything like these.... please tag me >_>

time travel in particular is horribly underutilized in whump. i should write more time travel things.

@whumpmasinjuly

[whumpthisway]

Sorry, I’m curious :D

💗 - What inspired you to start a whump blog?

🔮 - What's a favorite whump trope of yours?

💧 - What's your favorite type of whumpee?

🪩 - what's your favorite type of Caretaker?

🎱 - How did you discover the tumblr whump writing community?

hiya!!! no apologies needed, I'm happy to get the ask! :D

what inspired me to start a whump blog...

ooh I'm trying to remember honestly. I think I got into whump and then felt a bit odd posting it on my main so made a sideblog, and then decided to post fic on it later on. I'd been posting whumpy/angsty fic on ao3 for longer than I knew whump was a thing, but finding the community on tumblr has been fab. I havent written much at al in recent months/years, but I do take a lil quiet pride in keeping the blog updating regularly and trying to seek out new and "undiscovered" whump art and media to reblog for folks, alongside the popular stuff! but mostly it's just fun and I'm glad I did start it!

fav whump trope...

so I answered this one in my last ask response. just trying to think if I missed any tropes... the hidden injury trope is of course a great one. oh I love 'enemy turning up at the door wounded'. honestly I tried pretty much every trope and I think it just depends on tone and vibe for me. I'm definitely more interested in the care taking side of whump though, the recovery process rather than the whumper/torture side, though I sure enjoy a good, whumpy gif!

fav type of whumpee...

ooh I love stoic and proud whumpees best I think, as much as I love a good pathetic cat of a whumpee too! but I'll read any, "broken" whumpees, defiant whumpee, suspicious whumpee, whumpee who pretends to be obedient and is biding their time... I love a good trope, and I also love when that is subverted *shrugs* not too picky with my whumpees!

though that said, i do have a preference for male or non binary whumpees, female ones can hit a squick for me sometimes, though I did enjoy Haro whump's group whumpees, which had female whumpees included!

fav type of caretaker...

oooh, I like most of them really!!! caretaker that's trying really hard, caretaker that wants to help but can't (like villain's sidekick or a prison guard), fellow whumpee caretakers, gruff caretakers and soft ones, astute caretakers and oblivious ones... all depends on how they're written really! I'm not usually the biggest fan of reluctant caretakers, or carewhumpers or whumpers turned into caretakers... that doesnt sit the best with me for some reason. but I do love caretakers who fuck up and say the wrong thing, or have to punish the whumpee in public, or misunderstand things or whatever. even morally dubious caretakers can be fun depending on the vibe. I dont think I'm too fussy rly!

how did I discover whumplr...

uhhh yeah, I cant remember!! I'm terrible at remembering how things began, like how I first met friends or when i started watching a show , I'm sorry! I remember I first discovered a 'Boys in Discomfort' type collection of artwork and stories on DeviantArt, I read fics and followed artists on there for a good while. I may have found tumblr through Ao3, that's possible, not sure how long it took to go from my main tumblr blog to having a whump one... sorry this is a bad answer but I really dont remember! but I'm glad I did find it! met some great folks on here and read/seen some amazing work :)

thanks v much for the questions, hope I gave ok answers!! <3

[bloodandbandages]

Ryan: Trauma

Prompts from @whumptober2021 days 24 and 31

Takes place far in the future

CW: mind control, captor bonding/Stockholm syndrome (not really but that's the closest I've got), mind break, ill whumpee, flashback, mention of past mutual noncon, unhealthy coping mechanisms and relationship dynamics

Taglist: @ashintheairlikesnow @boxboysandotherwhump @jdfreads @rosesareviolentlyread @astra-queenofhell @whumpinggrounds @what-a-whump @whump-tr0pes @evermetnotforgotten @card-games-and-pain (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!)

Aed wonders if he was too late.

Ryan has never fully come back to themself, not even close. They were in the basement for nearly a year, he should give it time he knows. 

But they don't have time, do they? 

All humans have short lifespans compared with the fae, but Ryan is sick. They only have a year, or rather, they had a year.

Now, it's probably closer to a month. They will be dead soon, their wings a spoil Aed can claim.

Aed doesn't feel victorious.

This human is not among his enemies. 

In the basement, they were his only friend. 

In all honesty, they still are. Fae rarely venture into the human world. Those that do don't often come back and he's been gone for so long.

Perhaps he's already been mourned. It would be better that way. He's been mutilated, he will never fly again and he's done unspeakable things, violated every code of honor the fae hold themselves to.

He'd been so sure he would die in that basement, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself when he was freed.

Not to mention absolutely nothing went to plan. He hadn’t expected the young fae or that he would leave them behind just to save himself.

He hadn't expected the lost puppy of a human to continue trailing after him either. 

They're still alive in every way that counts, even if they are fading quickly. They breathe, they eat, they sleep and respond to Aed when he prompts them.

Their mind, however, hasn't shown any signs of returning. Of course they'll do what he asks of them, even if it's not a command. Their body will react if he jabs or caresses them. 

They'd just stopped wanting things. They wanted to be near him, to please him and to no longer be hurt but they never asked anything of him. They never did anything for themselves. 

It was his own fault, really. No one was meant to be kept compelled for long stretches of time and they had been for almost a year. They were a monster of his own making, which is why he stuck by them and tried to heal them, even though he knew they were doomed.

He could have easily abandoned them, they weren't in much of a state to pursue him and they were dying anyways but he couldn’t bring himself to do that to them after all the pain he'd caused them. They deserved to at least die as themselves, not a hollowed shell.

He was so lost in his own guilt, he nearly missed the screams. 

The most alive Ryan ever seemed was when they were asleep. They were still plagued by night terrors, screaming and crying almost every night. 

Aed tried to wake them, and frankly he'd succeeded but not in alleviating their terror. He'd only added to it. 

They pushed him away with all their strength and scrambled backwards, pressing themself against a tree trunk.

"Get off of me!"

"I'm over here."

"Stop touching me!"

"I'm not."

Their voice was trembling now. "I can feel your hands, I can feel you on me."

"I'm all the way over here, see?" He tried.

"Leave me alone!"

They weren't calming. One thing left to try.

"Use my name."

"But-"

"Use my name."

"AED, stay over there and don't touch me."

Very little changed as he hadn't been attempting either, but his limbs still stiffened accordingly.

They tried to avoid using names now, when they'd been such a cause of pain and control, but sometimes it was the only way Ryan could gain enough control over him that they felt safe.

Their breathing gradually slowed as they calmed and the compulsion faded. Their harsh breaths faded into quiet sobs. 

Aed just sat there with them. He couldn’t be the monster in their nightmares and their savior, so he didn’t try to be. He gave them what they asked of him, mostly to avoid the guilt. He never initiated anything but he endured whatever they gave him.

They'd certainly earned that right. 

They were the only reason they'd managed to escape.

"Which night?" He finally asks.

"The bad one," is all they can manage. 

They don't need to go further, he knows which one they refer to. They both prefer to talk around it, not call it rape. 

Names are powerful. You name the monster, and suddenly it's real. 

Or perhaps Aed is just too much of a coward to deal with the fact that the human he's trying so hard to save has nightmares about him.

He's unsure what to say. An "I'm sorry" is far too trivial for what's transpired between them but he offers it all the same. 

They take it. There's no mention of forgiveness because they both know it's pointless.

He's surprised though, when the command comes.

"AED, hold me."

His body follows suit, even though he would have obliged their request either way. 

Still they prefer physical contact like this, where they hold all the power and he has none. He can’t blame them, and he's almost glad for there to be something he can actually provide, so he holds them long past the compulsion, for as long as they wish.

And when the tears come, he lets them and he holds them through it.

It's all he can do.

[lilac-and-lemon-whumps]

Chow

@themerrywhumpofmay day four: “Shoulders back, eyes on me.” 

Movie marathon | Choking | Forced feeding

Takes place about three days after Diego receives his new pet. 

Part 1 | Part 3

Cw: vampire whumper/dubious caretaker, pet whump, refusal to eat, forced feeding, captivity, dehumanization, it as a pronoun, background lady whumper, Stockholm syndrome like thoughts for past whumper, fear of death.

“¿Qué haces, chandoso?”

Sometimes when Micah closed his eyes and listened hard enough, he could hear Miss Silva’s voice, repeating like the broken Luis Spinetta record Micah had once scratched and earned a rather memorable whipping for. More often than not, he didn’t even need to try, but only turn his head a certain way and feel Miss Silva’s palm on his jaw or the sting of a backhand.

“Stop that. I’ve trained you better than this.”

It could be night or afternoon. There was no way to tell in his windowless enclosure. Micah had long since given up on trying to keep track of the hypothetical days he’d been with his new owner. The only reference points he had were waking to the always dark room or when his new owner, Diego, he’d called himself, arrived to unleash him. Sometimes there would be food waiting on a tray at the foot of his bed.

“I should have listened to my friends. They told me to get a real cachorro, pero no, no, I didn’t listen. You know who else doesn’t listen? Tell me, Chow. Who never listens to me?”

Once there was a banana and some toasted bread on the tray. The next day there were two burned fried eggs and something that may have been mashed potatoes. It was always a different combination, never a pattern to it. But Micah was a good pet. He may have a new owner, but he remembered Miss Silva’s trainings. 

She would be so proud of him, wouldn’t she?

“Buen chico, now you’re remembering your manners.”

Micah was so, so hungry. But he could be good. He had to be. 

His wrists were sore. His owner kept him tied to the bed from time to time, only breaking the leash to let Micah walk around his enclosure for a bit or use the small bathroom adjoined to the space. It was an incredible reward to use a real bathroom and drink from a faucet rather than a bowl—and don’t get him started on the lack of a cage, the privileges were almost overwhelming—and Micah was definitely not about to make Mr. Diego think he was ungrateful, heavens forbid complaining about something as honorable as a leash. 

This leash is a privilege, chandoso. Remember that. I would not waste my time with a pet who did not deserve to wear my collar.

He remembered his trainings like a lifeline and welcomed Miss Silva’s memory lest he screw up and give Mr. Diego a reason to take away Micah’s treats. The hunger grew until Micah could only fall into a stilted sleep to distract from the aches. It was unpleasant, but Micah had suffered worse. And besides, the rewards always made up for the pain.

Tap-tap. 

Cli-ick.

Micah sucked in a breath as the door to his enclosure turned. Best behavior, best behavior. 

“Good evening, little one.” Mr. Diego stood in the door, another tray in his hand. When he set it on the bed, Micah quickly averted his eyes. Two oranges and a bowl of what looked like sweet grains. 

“Best behavior, Chow.” 

“Today we’re gonna try something different.”

Micah tried not to react. He liked the easy tone of his new owner, the melodic Spanish slipping off his tongue reminiscent of Miss Silva. What he did not like were those words. What had he done wrong already? He hadn’t ate anything like a good pet, so why—

Mr. Diego was still speaking. “You haven’t been eating the food I’ve laid out, and while I will be the first to admit I don’t know everything about, you know—“ Mr. Diego waved his hands in same vague fashion, laughing at some joke Micah did not understand—“it’s common sense that humans have to eat something every day. Even children know that.” Micah couldn’t make sense of the words so he didn’t try. His brain fuzzed out somewhere after you haven’t been eating, and Micah had to quell a proud smile that his new owner noticed his manners. Maybe he wasn’t in trouble after all.

“Hey, sweetheart, are you listening? Eyes up here.”

And just like that, the broken record. Scratching, scratching—

“You’re not a wild animal, Chow. Don’t act like it. Head down, shoulders back, eyes up here. Are you listening?”

Micah was listening. He was. He was not a wild animal, he was trained, he was tamed, he was a good pet, (he was so hungry), no, he was going to be good and earn his treat—

Snap. Micah’s eyes shot up to Mr. Diego who now stood next to the bed, head tilted down at his pet. Mr. Diego slowly retracted his hand where he’d clicked his fingers. “Hey, now. Let’s get these ties off you. I’ve got some better ones coming in but they’re on back order at the moment. Supply chains, you know?” His lips twitched in a smile. “Forgive the pun.”

Micah did not know. He waited patiently while Mr. Diego broke the leash on each wrist. Better ones or not, his new owner seemed to have an endless supply of this kind. Maybe Mr. Diego was as rich as Miss Silva. It was hard to tell in Micah’s enclosure, but he vaguely remembered passing a sprawling driveway the night he’d been transported.

When the leash was gone, Micah tensed. Mr. Diego had never waited around like he did now. Either the tray would be at the foot of the bed, or it would not be. 

Watching his owner from the corner of his eyes, Micah realized. This must be the final test to show his new owner Micah’s manners. If that was the case, Micah was set. Miss Silva may be—Micah blinked away the thought—but he would make her proud. He would. 

“I’m almost certain I know there won’t be an answer to this,” Mr. Diego spoke as if more to himself, “but I may as well try anyway. Will you tell me why you haven’t been eating, little one?”

Little one. Micah quite liked the term. It was different than Chow. 

Mr. Diego waited. The silence stretched. 

See. Micah was such a good dog. Maybe Mr. Diego would call him that name again. 

“Of course. Alright, erm.” Mr. Diego hummed before snatching up one of the oranges and started to peel it. It only took but the first swipe of his claw-like-nail to demolish a quarter of the orange, peel nearly intact. 

Micah stopped a laugh just in time. Silly master. People can’t eat dog food. 

“Well, that was a bust.” Micah’s owner grumbled to himself and picked up the other orange, still whole. The humor that had bubbled in Micah’s throat quickly died when Mr. Diego reached out his hand as if to give Micah the ball shaped fruit. 

“I need you to eat for me, sweetheart. I don’t know why you haven’t yet. Faria doesn’t think you could be allergic to everything I’ve tried so far, so I need you to either tell me what’s wrong or I’ll have to feed you myself. And I think we both can guess how much I’d rather not do that.”

Sweetheart, Faria, allergic. It was a jumble of mishmash lost in the record of eat for me, eat for me, eat for me. 

“I haven’t given you permission yet, chandoso. What pet eats before its Mistress? If you can’t remember a simple rule, maybe the cage will remind you.”

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? I don’t know how to help you if you don’t speak up, but there’s no—“ “Stop that. Dogs do not speak. Head down, shoulders back. Eyes on me.”

“—reason to start crying, sweetheart.” Micah’s owner rubbed his own face, irises the color of autumn leaves deepening in thought. Miss Silva’s were—had been (no, don’t think about it)—a darker shade of currant, almost black when Micah screwed up. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said again, “but I think food will help. You and me both, that is, because even I’m not a dick enough to feed from you when you’re this…”

If Mr. Diego finished his sentence, Micah didn’t hear it. What did Mr. Diego mean, feeding from him? Micah must have heard wrong. Because Micah was a pet. Micah wasn’t food. Didn’t Mr. Diego have the right animals for that? 

Good dogs were pets. Bad, bad animals were food. 

Unless….

“I promise I do not want to hurt you,” Mr. Diego was saying as he gave up on the orange and brought the untouched bowl over to Micah. “But this is for your own good, little one. Open your mouth for me. Shoulders back, sit up now.” Shoulders back, eyes up here. You’re not a wild animal. Bad, bad animals get their blood drank and thrown away. Won’t you be a good Chow?

The second his new owner forced Micah’s jaw open, Micah could only cry out. Of course he had no claws or fangs like Miss Silva or Mr. Diego to protect himself. But his new owner was far too strong for him to even consider struggling anyway, and the horror of the situation was only finally hitting Micah in full force. He was supposed to be a pet. That’s what he was trained for. 

Not food.

Micah broke the number one rule. 

“Sir, I-I can be good. Please.”

He spoke. He did, but…wasn’t he justified? Miss Silva hadn’t given him permission to eat (but Miss Silva’s…no, don’t think, you can’t think about that) and now Mr. Diego was going to make him disobey. 

Mr. Diego’s eyes grew wide. “Would you look at that. So you can speak."

A tremor laced Micah’s heart. He didn’t dare commit another infraction. How long had it even been since he’d lost spoken? 

Micah waited for the slap or the claws to come. If Micah feared right, would Mr. Diego use his fangs? Of all the things Miss Silva used to reprimand Micah, she had made it clear what Micah’s purpose was. 

But now? Micah was so very lost. 

“Scare easily, huh,” Mr. Diego muttered. “If you can be good, why are we doing this the hard way? Oh come now, there’s no need for that.” 

Setting the bowl down on the bed’s side table, he cradled the back of Micah’s head with one hand, all strong muscle and sinew keeping Micah in place. Micah remembered how Miss Silva would grab him similarly. Instead of Mr. Diego keeping Micah immobile, though, Miss Silva had a preference for yanking Micah by the hair until clumps fell out in patches. It had grown out in the recent past, but maybe Micah’s new owner wouldn’t want to keep it that way.

“Alright, shhh. Wipe that look off your face, little one. I’m doing this for your own good, you know.”

With his other hand, Mr. Diego reached down and pinched Micah’s nose to halt the airflow. For the first few seconds, Micah used all his willpower not to struggle. It was instinct to try to pull back, but what is instinct to a trained dog? 

But Micah was not like his superiors. He was more than aware of his own weakness before this figure, and that was disregarding the fact he’d had nothing to fill his stomach but water in the past however many days it had been. Unable to grasp what purpose his new owner intended for Micah, on top of his already weakened state, Micah lost the battle quickly. Chest burning, lungs aching, Micah could only drop his mouth in desperation and gasp for air. 

But there was hardly a reprieve because only a second later, Mr. Diego was forcing the first spoonful of sweet grains down Micah’s throat. The thought of it not staying down was enough for Micah to clench at the bedsheets, stomach curling in fear. It never even crossed his mind to try to push away with his hands now freed. 

Micah was eating.

Micah was a bad, bad dog.

“Swallow, sweetheart. Stop crying, you’ll choke. You need to eat.” 

And everyone knows what happens to bad animals. 

I want to be good. 

I need to be good.

Please. 

"You’re lucky, you know,” Miss Silva liked to say, the words a brand in Micah’s mind as the next spoonful burned a hole down his throat. 

“You’re lucky that I only call you Chow.”

*

Taglist: @mylifeisonthebookshelf @deluxewhump @thecyrulik @melancholy-in-the-morning

[whumpshaped]

this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for ages... it was supposed to be the first of my robot drabbles to go up but here we are. i hope i'll have spoons to write more for these guys... i'll post some picrews sometime for the cast and also make a masterlist and give the story a title

masterlist

content: robot whumperee (literally whumpee and whumper in one i don't know how to describe it any other way), sci-fi setting, implied systemic whump, morally dubious caretaker, living weapon

Szoren grabbed the closest rag and did a cursory wipe-off on his tools before turning towards his robot: the Self-Sufficient Riot Control Unit, the very first one they'd ever created. SSRCU-01. Zaps, as they'd affectionately nicknamed it. An absolutely magnificent piece of machinery, something Szoren and his colleagues had been working on for years before they managed to get it to function properly.

Well, as properly as they could at the time. If he didn't count the unfortunate shocking incident from the first week, and the even more unfortunate airlock incident from the second week, he could say Zaps was doing a fine job of only hurting those it was meant to be hurting.

Which, of course... Szoren didn't like that his poor baby was made for such a brutal purpose... But he couldn't change the reality of it, and he was just glad to see his creation performing well.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" he asked cheerily, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the custom murderbot.

"The central processing unit seems to be malfunctioning, sir," it said, monotone as ever. Szoren didn't mind. He wasn't good with emotions anyway.

"Malfunctioning? How? I'll run diagnostics, but you can talk to me in the meantime." He hooked up Zaps to the computer, hoping the 'malfunction' would be easy to spot and solve. At least it wasn't the motor functions this time — he really didn't need another injury.

"The reactions are delayed, sir. I hear the orders and I see the mistakes I'm meant to be fixing, but the body locks up before I can carry out the task. It almost allowed one of the workers to run away."

Szoren frowned. Zaps was entirely okay from the looks of it, or at least the computer didn't find anything wrong with it.

"I'll take a look myself. Maybe it's something to do with the joints and not the CPU."

"The joints are fine, sir," it said firmly.

"It can't hurt to check—"

"The joints are fine, sir."

Szoren felt a chill run down his spine. There was no discernible emotion in Zaps' voice; it wasn't capable of conveying human emotion. There shouldn't have been an intensity to its stare either... But for some reason Szoren felt like he couldn't push it. That wasn't a nice feeling when it came to something he himself had helped design and create.

"Zaps... I'm going to take a look at your joints now." He didn't want to do something without the robot's consent; but to be entirely fair, the robot not consenting wasn't something that had ever even crossed his mind. It was equipment. A tool. It didn't consent to being worked on any more than the screwdriver consented to being worked with.

For a long moment, Zaps didn't react. Then the light behind its visual sensors seemed to dim as it obediently popped open all cosmetic panels that were hiding major joint connections. "Yes, sir."

"Good robot," Szoren murmured, relieved. "You said they'd 'lock up'?"

"Yes, sir."

"It sounds like something that some oil should fix, but... Evidently, it's not. All of these joints are perfectly oiled."

"Yes, sir."

"And it only happens when carrying out orders? What if it's something like... Bad wiring, something triggered by the electrical impulse..."

"There are other malfunctions, sir," it interrupted, and Szoren looked up. "I'm unsure how to describe those. It is akin to a virus. Someone might have tampered with the programming."

"What's the malfunction?"

"Sometimes I get false orders to hurt my superiors, sir. While carrying out my regular tasks is difficult, these false orders are at times incredibly difficult to resist."

"What?" Szoren turned back towards the computer, frantically trying to find something in the code that could explain this. This was alarming. This was dangerous! Possibly lethal! If Zaps ended up hurting someone important, the whole tech department would be on trial; and not a favourable one. "What are these orders like? Are they like your regular orders? Maybe it's something about the target list, maybe... Maybe someone tampered with that."

"Sir?"

He barely glanced at the robot. "Yes?"

"What is the purpose I have been created to fulfil?"

Szoren stopped. "You know your purpose."

"To punish workers who fail to comply with the rules set out for them by the Seventh Earth Council." At least it remembered that line. Szoren had drilled it into its head before anything else. "But is that..." It... trailed off? It had never done that before. Robots didn't trail off.

"Is that?" he prompted, more and more concerned.

"Is that all I've been created for?"

Szoren inhaled sharply. That was a loaded question, and one he didn't really want to answer yes to. It was the truth, though; Zaps had been created to punish and execute.

"Yes," he breathed, acutely aware that if the robot disliked his answer, it could very well turn its weaponry against him. It shouldn't be able to, but clearly, it was doing a lot of things and having a lot of thoughts it shouldn't have been able to.

It stared at him for a long, tense moment. "Understood, sir," it said eventually. Szoren exhaled.

"I'm going to switch you off and ask Kiki for some help in fixing you. How's that?" He tried to go back to his cheery attitude from before, but his voice came out strained and a little scared. Zaps didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

~

tags: @whumpsday

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

Tagging Info | Follows and Likes from@tavecincertum | Tagging Reminder

Requests/Ask box: Open

The Mayors Reading Archive: Recommended stories and authors.

[Return To Main Master List]

★ Forever Meals (imagine-prompt, slavery, dehumanization, pet-play, pet whump, referenced abuse, dismemberment)

★ Well Fed (imagine-prompt, blood-drinking, feeding, starvation, force-feeding, dehumanization)

★ Sweet Humans (info-dump prompt, multi prompt, fluffy, caretaking, pet whump, pet prompt, answered ask)

★Good for Something (imagine-prompt, blood-drinking, dehumanization, rejection mention, sadness mention, dehumanization, pet whump, pet prompt, slavery)

★ Contrast + Contrast (Extended Edition) (imagine-prompt, slavery, dehumanization, blood-drinking, fear programming, pet whump, pet prompt, abuse, torture)

★ Songbird (1) (dubcon intimacy/touching, psychological reconditioning, implied past abuse, implied/referenced non-con, collar whump, gagging, choking, bruises, referenced broken bones, collar training, female whumpee, pet breaking, pet whump, answered ask, story prompt)

★ Kidnapped (2) (collar whump, female whumpee, kidnapping, stalking, choking, hanging, broken bones, referenced/implied noncon, hot/cold whumper, hair pulling, drugging, cursing/strong language, answered ask, story prompt)

★ Shes Mine (3) (kidnapping, forced captivity,, Implied/referenced noncon, blood play, cutting, mild gore (detailed description of blood), dehumanization, bondage, degradation, female whumpee, story prompt, answered ask)

★ Show and Tell (implied non-con, two whumpers, captive caretaker, voyeurism, threatening, name-calling, degradation, pet whump, story prompt)

★ That Damn Dog (dubious pet-play, degradation, humiliation, female!whumper, foot kissing/light-worship, lady whump, light cursing, nondescript violence, pet whump, story prompt, answered ask)

★ All that Glitters (physical violence (hitting/slapping), mild sexual themes, heavily implied/referenced sexual abuse, forced identity, forced relationship, famous whump, known whumpee, intimate!female!whumper, male!whumpee, answered ask)

★ Pretty, Like a Doll (pet whump, abuse, cigarette burns, smoking, restraints, bondage, humiliation, begging, injury, violence, genderless!whumpee, male whumper, intimate whumper/creepy whumper)

★ Helping Hand (pet whump, vampire caretaker, slavery, genderless human, female whumpee turned caretaker, death mention, chronically ill whumpee)

★ Helping Hand pt. 2 (slavery, chronic illness, filthy environment, nondescript bathing scene, blood-drinking (from glass), domestic whump, female!vampire!caretaker, genderfluid!whumpee)

★ A Fresh Start (slavery, implied abuse, implied bondage, mentions of burns, blood-drinking, captivity, starvation, dehumanization, mental reconditioning, post whump recovery, medical whump, royal whump ish

★ Baby, please come Home (NSFWHUMP, intimate caretaker, consensual sexual content, traffic light system, caretaker x whumpee, fluffy domestic setting, romanticized whump, explicit content, NSFT)

[jaffacakerebellion]

Okay but a whumper with power/ authority making whumpee do copious amounts of exercise- a mum or dad, a strict sports coach in school/university/ a proffessional sports environment, a brutal personal trainer, a mentor, a PE teacher who ‘never liked that kid’.

They make whumpee stay later than everyone else, train harder than anyone else, push them beyond their limits all the time. Whumpee’s teammates would almost be jealous of whumpee, if they didn’t see how exhausted whumpee was all the time. 

Why does whumpee get all the special attention? They’re clearly the best, is coach trying to push them to get better so they can go on to better things than the others? Are the others just a waste of time next to whumpee? Whumpee knows their teammates feel this way, and it truly gets to them, watching their trusted friends lose faith/ interest in them and turn their backs.

One day, long after everyone else has left the gym/ field/ wherever, whumper has been pushing whumpee for hours, their motion is getting more clumsy, sweat is dripping down their creased brow, they can only just hear the whumper’s yelling over their heartbeat pounding in their ears, when their brow suddenly uncreases, and they collapse, their body finally giving out.

Whumper stands over them on the ground, watching them pant pathetically for breath, when whumpee sees something cross whumper’s face just in their periphery. They don’t even get the opportunity to turn their head to look at whumper before they’re on top of whumpee, beating them senseless, calling them pathetic, throwing fists into whumpee’s limp form. Whumpee can’t lift a finger to defend themself, and whumper knows it. Whumpee can only cry weakly and beg whumper to stop, which only makes them beat whumpee harder.

BONUS ROUNDS

-whumper is their evil parent/ step-parent

-whumper wanted to be a proffessional athlete like whumpee but never made it

-whumper babies whumpee afterwards, letting them whimper weakly into their arms

-this becomes a regular occurance

-another teacher at the high school finds whumpee after the beating 

-the personal trainer who beat whumpee up keeps their job at the gym after whumpee/ caretaker reports them 

-whumpee’s teammate discovers whumpee and becomes their caretaker

-whumpee tells a teammate, but nobody believes whumpee/ is too jealous and won’t help them

-whumper drags/ carries whumpee to the showers after whumpee loses consciousness, where they wake up, cold, aching and alone

-whumper genuinely believes that this is for whumpee’s own good

-whumpee is huge and strong, and whumper is small and weak, so people have a hard time believing what happened

-whumper is like a parent to whumpee because their own parents aren’t

-whumpee can’t sleep due to the pain for a few days after the beating

-whumpee has a seizure from their injuries, or from the stress of the entire situation

-whumper has been waiting to do this for a long time

-whumpee collapses later on because of their injuries, possibly at a sporting event

-whumper is attracted to whumpee

-whumpee is attracted to whumper

-whumpee and whumper are attracted to the same person

-whumpee needs whumper to achieve a certain goal and can’t do it without them

-whumpee’s injuries get noticed at a big game, and almost everyone sees one of the bruises

-whumpee starts coughing up blood, maybe during the beating, maybe a while after

-some people believe that what the whumper did was justified

-whumpee gets very sick as a result of being left on the cold, muddy pitch after the beating

-whumper instantly regrets what they did, but only because they’re scared of losing their job

-whumper becomes their caretaker too, but whumpee is dubious about trusting them

-whumper did this because they’re racist/ transphobic/ homophobic/ anti-semitic/ ableist/ islamophobic/ a n30 n4z1/ sexist/ fatphobic/ discriminating bc whumpee is skinny and looks unathletic

Please add any more you think of!

[albino-whumpee]

To me, you are...

This is a heavy one so please go carefully. It deals with a lot of dubious heavy stuff like slavery and the relationship between captor and captive. And, to answer the anon who asked what Zarai saw Albus as, if more as a pet or a friend, here´s your answer.

I´m a bit behind schedule, so I´ll be posting them in the next few days. 

Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

CW// box boy blanket TW, pet whump, bullying, defiant whumpee, noncon touch (non sexual), conditioning, discussion of ownership and fucky views about slavery, intimate whumper, diffuse line between caretaker and whumper, lima syndrome, self sacrifice, collars, grief and anxiety attack.

Lunch breaks were the best part of the day for the albino. He would meet up with Sasha and Tony at the food truck down the street, settle down on a bench together and order two crunchy tacos Zarai would disapprove of, saying they weren´t real tacos, but the boy would gobble them up regardless. Lunch breaks were the only times of the day he could relax, after all. Even just a bit. 

The atmosphere at the office had just started to get somewhat calmer after Zarai´s intervention. Albus’ cheek had a fading yellow bruise when he went back to the building with Sasha, talking excitedly about Sann´s progress with sign language.

“Thank you for spending the last Saturday with us” the albino said, smiling as they passed their cards over the scanner and moved to the elevator “He has been nonstop studying since then” he passed a hand to his neck, feeling the collar under his clothes “I’m starting to get worried I won´t be able to follow him someday”

 “Why´s that? We can always practice at lunch” Sasha signed perfectly after punching the buttons to their respective floors. Slowly so Albus could watch her movements perfectly. 

“I mean, yeah, but-” the boy flinched when Sasha lifted her finger and shook it in front of him. The boy sighed and put his hands up “I´m just afraid I won´t understand him” he signed even slower, mouthing the words under his breath.

“You´re doing your best, Al” she signed using the white gesture. Albus cheeks flared up remembering Sann´s words when he gave him his sign name.

The other pet had put his extended hand over his chest and then pulled away as if taking a pinch of salt. Sann had told him it was like taking a part of your heart and giving it to the other person. A sign for kindness that meant white, perfect for someone like Albus, the other boy had said smiling at him.

Sasha elbowed him back to reality “Trust yourself you can do it, ok?” she signed with a gentle gesture on her face that made him smile as they came out of the elevator and walked through a hallway to Zarai´s office “Also he learns too quickly, it´s quite scary! I couldn´t have learnt to read and write all by myself at all, so trust me. You´re doing just fine and normal” she finished signing with a pat on his back the boy winced to before patting himself. “Just try to watch your mouth when you sign and…wiggle your eyebrows more, yeah? Gotta emphasize” she said walking away.

Albus groaned as he straightened up “I still do that?” he shouted across the hallway. Sasha nodding with an apologetic face. He sighed before he signed bye to her, already turning on a corner. 

 He then took a deep breath and stepped into the large room and walked with eyes cast down to Zarai´s office, feeling too many eyes nailed on him. He just had to get used to the piercing glares and low murmurs in the air. He couldn´t make a scene again. 

 However, Albus jumped away when he felt someone get too close and heard someone laugh as he recomposed. 

 “Sorry, what´s it Jeremy?” the albino said looking at the blonde blocking his view from the other people as he stepped forward. He blinked amused when he saw Jeremy standing between him and the door.

 “Sorry, Sir. But, uh, Mr. Glass is inside the chief’s office” he whispered just low enough for both of them “Should I tell him to go, Sir?” Jeremy asked with genuine worry in his voice that warmed Albus’ heart. 

 In the last weeks, he had stood up by his side and tried to not leave him alone. That got him some side eye from other coworkers, but he didn´t seem to care and he was still as efficient as always, just slightly more tired though. Maybe he thought he didn´t realize, but he was deeply thankful to find a kind person among the cutting edges the office had turned into. 

 “Thank you for telling me, Jeremy. But I´m ok, go take your break” He said with a forced smile. Jeremy opened his mouth but closed it and stepped out of his way. He settled his hand on the handle and stepped inside to find Robert Glass with the framed photo on his hands, leaning against the desk. “Mister Glass”

 Robert´s eyes lifted up to see the albino closing the door behind him, smiling as he set down the photo back on its place. 

 “There you are. I wanted to speak with you” He said, lifting himself from the desk and walking closer to the albino. “Oh? What happened to your cheek?” he said lifting a hand to stroke him, amusing himself when the albino flinched and he had to grab his chin to force him to look at him “Hey, hey, didn´t they taught you not to move away?” Robert said, feeling the pressure he was putting on his jaw underneath his fingertips. 

 “Yes, from my owner. Not you, Mister” The albino said through gritted teeth. Robert let go with huff. Albus tried to shove down the disgust and replace it with his usual poker face. Couldn´t be too hard to force it up again. He had been doing it since he stepped out of the box after all. 

 The albino breathed in as he saw the man walk away, passing his hand through the stuff scattered around his desk. All of it lined up exactly like Zarai wanted to. 

As the albino saw his hand hover curiously around his things, Robert fixed his eyes upon another painting on the wall. 

 “That´s not what you said with Jefferson was it? I mean-”

 “You´re not here to talk about me are you, Mister?” Albus interrupted him, his chest brewing with newfound anger. “Sann is absolutely fine now, if you wondered”

 “Oh no, I came to talk about you exactly” Albus frown grew deeper, eyebrows tightening when he put his hand up. “Don´t worry, I won´t touch you. I only came to talk” he giggled, picking up the stress ball over the shelf and bouncing it on his hands side to side. 

 “You know? People think Pets aren’t people anymore. More like animals or objects” he started, stepping closer to the stiffening albino. A smile formed on his lips “I know some refer to their own pets as it, but do you know why I don’t refer to Sann or you like that?” He said in front of Albus. Lifting one arm up to trap him between the wall and himself. “Because you’re a person, of course” he giggled. Before he simply stared at him from above. Like a hawk above the trees just waiting for the perfect moment to dive for its prey. “Doing to you what you couldn’t to any other human… that’s the thrill of owning a box boy” He whispered to his ear, a freezing chill ran through his spine at the sickly sweet tone of his voice “Zarai knows that too”

 “There’s info she has been hiding from you” he began. Sweetly noticing the confusion in his face “A boxie can buy back their freedom if they pay for their contract”

 It hit him so hard, Robert was enjoying seeing his eyes widen with each word. He kept his grimace hidden and continued to explain to the dumbfounded albino.

“Of course, it is almost impossible to buy something when you’re not even allowed to be paid in most cases…unlike you” 

 Albus breathed in deep. Processing the new info and checking if it was info he should believe or not. 

 “Is that really possible? I-I-I could really…I could even-” Robert knew by the way his eyes widened that the question he had come to install on him had settled. Already knowing which words would come out of his mouth after that. 

 “However” the man interrupted him “It´s a one-time chance thing. Only one contract each” he noticed the drop of sweat going down the albino´s face as his smile widened “If I were you I would think it more thoroughly, Albie”

 —-

 After her meeting was over, Zarai walked to her office and thought it was odd people stared at her. She opened the office’s door to find Albus talking with Robert.

 The boy turned his head to see her and then back at Robert “Goodbye, Sir” he said with clenched teeth before opening the door. Zarai caught his arm before he walked away and pulled him closer.

 “What’s going on here?” She whispered.

 “Nothing really, princess” Robert interrupted their conversation. Albus closed the door with a short sigh. 

 “Then what did you come all the way here for? You should know by now you´re not welcome here” She said with fire in her eyes. Robert made his jaw work but hid it with a smile.

 “Zarai, darling, when were you going to tell him that he could buy his own liberty?” Zarai’s eyes widened slightly before she recomposed. “You let him win money, but you didn’t give him an object to spend it on. Doc Martin from Marketing would be really disappointed with you”

 “Albus, go outside and wait for me at the rooftop” she ordered the boy who quickly set off. Silence sat in the room as Albus closed the door “What are you playing, Glass?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

 The man snorted and whistled “I was being honest with him. Might want to do that more often. Do you even know what he said when I told him?” His hands shot up in a dramatizing gesture. “‘Is that really possible?’ With eyes all sparkly and hopeful! You might wanna help him understand that even if it is possible, he shouldn’t be showing that emotion” Robert kept talking but when he noticed she was quiet he talked again “Were you planning to even tell him Zarai?”

 The woman avoided his eyes, “…eventually” Robert laughed.

 “Well, would you have told Sann about it?” She exploded.

 “Don’t get confused princess. I didn’t give Sann the means to buy himself out of this. That’s all” he shut her down immediately. Robert gave her a sympathetic smile. “You are so lonely, so desperate to have someone on your side, you are forcing the only one who can’t displease you, to stay with you” Zarai inhaled hard “It’s alright though. I understand you better than anyone” he said stepping closer.

“Nobody wishes to be left alone, after all. Animals won’t help loneliness as much as a human would, so we buy pets for our broken hearts and call it love when they laugh with us” Finally Robert towered over her before talking into her ear the few words she didn’t want to hear ever “but they won’t ever be the family we lost, Zarai. No matter how much they look alike or how much they need to be cared for, they’re not Sirius, nor Jarred, Charlie or Fran”

 “He´s not a replacement, Glass. I´m not like you” she battled the tears prickling behind her eyes.

 “I know, he’s not that kind of replacement” he leaned to whisper on her ear “I know we are not playing the same game Zarai” he said stepping back as the woman’s head spun and pulsed with how hard she was clenching her teeth “You never wanted a secretary to help you. No, you never needed him to be your secretary” his lips twisted into a smile “You aren´t made of ice. You could´ve taught them just like you did with him. But you never would´ve been so patient with anyone that could leave would you?” he said enjoying the small frustrated gasps coming out of her.

 “¡Suficiente!” She yelled pushing him away. “If you are so sure of it, why did you keep Sann? What was the point in that huh?” Robert finally shut his mouth for a second. “If Sann is just a fake why keep him around?”

 “For the same reason as you. We’re so lonely we bought ourselves company” he admitted. Making Zarai burst into tears.

 “Vete” he stayed still “AHORA, Glass! FUERA!” she screamed before the man walked out of the office with a grim face. 

 “You know I’m right”

 She slammed the door closed on his nose. She waited a while, trying to calm herself down, but the violent tremble wouldn´t stop.

 Suffocating and sweaty and feeling too heavy on her chest, she stepped out of her office and didn’t even bother to cover the furious tears rolling on her cheeks until she let it out on the elevator to the rooftop.

 She passed to the bathroom to put herself together.

 When was the last time she hid in a bathroom to cry like she was? College? No, a year after the accident. When she came back to work and all of the sudden after one of her meetings, she just couldn´t stop herself from tearing up. Then she went back home to cry on the kid´s beds clenching their clothes before she fell asleep. No, wrong the last time had been a few weeks before Albus came. 

 She heard the water run as the realization roamed in her mind and concentrated on breathing in and out, in and out. Since he came to her life, she hadn´t had an anxiety attack.

 Every day for the last eight months, she woke up to homemade breakfast and a good morning, she went to work and had the exact thing she needed on her hand without asking, she went to sleep and her fingers lazily unbuckled the boy´s collar before he wished her good night.

  For the last months she had glanced back over her shoulder and found the albino immediately turned attentively at her. 

 Her breathing hitched as tears rolled down without being able to stop them. 

 For the last months, she always had someone on her side making her company.

 Just like she requested on the WRU form.

 “Ha ha…I really am a monster” she whispered to herself with a sniff “A lonely…lonely monster, just like he said…”

 It took a long time before she recomposed herself and walked to the rooftop garden where Albus was waiting for her.

 His hair had grown a bit and had gained some weight. He was not the dirty, malnourished box boy on a crate anymore. He was the best assistant she had ever had, and a simply adorable and promising kid. Her hands fell on the handle and doubt overwhelmed her for a second.

  In the end, Zarai opened the door and Albus turned to see her with mild surprise. Fixing his posture and face when he recognized her and followed her movements. 

 If she asked him, if she let him buy it…what would he do?

 She had no other way to know than asking and her heart broke when the boy widened his eyes and sulked on the plastic chair in the roof, rounding his thumbs one over the other, before he breathed out and looked up at her. 

 “I made a promise to you, Ma´am” the boy said calmly, crimson eyes looking at her as he wetted his lips “And I intend to keep it. But…I had enough time to think about it here” he looked around the roof, seeing the whole city under him but eyes fixed on the ocean beyond the beach. He turned back to see her with a light frown on his face, looking too young all of a sudden “I´ll make a request, and this will be the only one I´ll ever ask from you, Ma´am”

 As the breeze carried his words to her, she froze. She saw the way the albino smiled at her, a bold pleading on his eyes she couldn´t refuse. After a long silence, she agreed. With a big smile to hide the sadness underneath, Albus thanked her.

 The reason for their agreement would be completely secret from the other two, no matter what happened, both vowed not to tell either Sann or Claude about their deal. 

 At night, her hands had trembled when she was supposed to loosen up his collar to sleep like every night. And the albino had looked at her with those big crimson eyes that softened as he settled her hand over his collar and she finished the task.

 “Good night, Ma´am, Mister” he had said before walking through the door. 

 “Goodnight, Albus” she had replied back and curled closer to Claude. 

 She would wonder later, why she had agreed to it. Why didn´t she stop him or offered the backup way she had planned to give him from the beginning, but she quickly found her answer when she looked over her shoulder and found, always found, the albino trailing behind her.

 She agreed, because for her, Albus was company that wouldn´t ever go away.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

do you have any advice on creating distinctive characters?

I’m sorry this turned into Dubious Raccoon Advice the novel. 

Also these are just my opinions, so they’re worth about as much as dirt. Not that I think they’re bad, you can just find dirt everywhere and it’s what you do with the dirt that makes it good or not. 

First, it depends on the medium that you’re using. For visual mediums like comics, tv shows, manga, movies, it’s really easy to have a character be distinctive by a visual element; purple hair, red eyes, wings, physical attributes like that.

For writing, it’s a little different. Your characters can 100% have all/any of these things, but there’s a good chance that that won’t really be the thing that makes them ‘distinctive’ or ‘memorable.’ We can’t see them from scene to scene, so those details be forgotten or overlooked. It would be the author’s job to continually remind the reader, and that can get in the way of the story and the action.

(I also see characters from to time that have quite a bit going on. They have purple skin and red hair and 4 green eyes and wings and they have magic. These can be fun characters, but they’re harder to write because you have a lot of worldbuilding to remember and try to incorporate naturally. New writers also might write them as if they were just a normal human, throwing these things in as adjectives and not attributes. Write who you want!! But just remember to try and give things a reason.)

What really makes a character distinctive is their reactions. How do they respond to what happens to them?

I did something a while ago about how all of my ocs at the time rip me reacted to being told to crawl into a cage. They were all in the same situation, but they all reacted differently. 

The initial gut reaction, the outward reaction, and then the final decision.

Nik’s reaction– initial reaction; disgust and fear. Outward reaction; asking if he really had do, taking a step back. Final decision; taking a deep breath and crawling in without a fight.

Brody’s reaction – initial reaction; nothing, this was a very normal thing for him. Outward reaction; nothing, total acceptance. Final decision; crawling in without a fight.  

Nik and Brody had the same final decision, but how they got there was totally different. You don’t need to shock the reader with every scene, we probably know/can figure out what’s gonna happen but we want to see it happen. What are their thoughts on it?

Brody is easily my most popular character, and people love to see his reaction to what’s happening around him. His perspective on the world is one of utter acceptance. Things will happen to him, and then he will have to deal with the consequences. He takes a passive stance in his own life, the caretakers and Whumpers the ones being active. But we’re all waiting for the times that he becomes active!! That he does things!! And we’re invested in it because we know that that is a change from his status quo.

Another distinctive character that I’ve had on my mind for a bit is River. Ya’ll don’t really know them yet and that’s my bad but they’re a distinct OC to me, even within all my oc’s. They’re distinctive in their story (they became a vampire on accident and they’ve accepted it but they’re not a huge fan) as well as the way they react to things. River struggles with a lot of anxiety, and that shows through the way I’ve written them. In my head, in one of their therapy sessions (pre vampire) their therapist gave them “permission” to ask for help when they need it. Especially over simple things. If there isn’t anyone there to help them, they ask google for help. Hence why River is constantly googling first aid questions, reading the packaging on the band-aids, things of that nature. That reaction is distinctive, it set them apart from someone like Silver, who gets loud and defensive when he’s anxious.

Now, you don’t have to know that much about a character before you write them. I didn’t know about River’s anxiety when I wrote that piece! I put it together later, but I just knew I wanted them to have a distinct, different reaction to set them apart from some of the other bumbling caretakers (whom i love, no shade to anyone).

So watch your character’s reactions. Ask a few of them (like your whumpee, the whumper, the caretaker, whoever) the same question and see how they answer (the three; initial reaction, outward reaction, and final decision). If they all answer the same way, ask yourself why and see if that’s something you want to tweak. Let them have personalities, and show them to us!!

Hope it helps!

[whumpqin]

Day 20: Lost (Whumptober 2020)

We’re slowly getting there! Have a new character as a treat.

Characters: Annalynn (POV), Caleb, Aridai

Taglist:@faewhump @galaxywhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @insanitywishes @burtlederp @whumpasaurus101 @whump-only (if you want to be added to this story’s tag list or my whumptober taglist just message me!)

CW: pet whump, dissoci@tion, referenced past abuse, referenced past torture, referenced noncon, nonhuman whumpee, broken whumpee, blood, noncon touching (nonsexual), nudity (also non sexual), hallucinations, dubious caretaker, creepy/intimate whumper, gaslighting, maybe more. If I need to tag something just let me know!

Word Count: 1,055

He’s still. Completely motionless as he lay upon the bed that he’s chained to, his only remaining eye staring distantly towards the adjacent wall. If she looks at him just the right way, she knows that the poor thing would almost look dead. Sometimes she wonders if that would be preferable to… this.

Bruises line him from head to toe, fingerprints and impact marks and cuts where they nearly constantly punish and hurt him. Dried blood is caked across his skin, frozen rivulets that had run down to stain the sheets below. He’s been beaten, tortured, cut, and god knows what else since he’s been here. Annalyn curls her nose not in disgust but pity as she sits on the bed next to the Cambion.

Caleb doesn’t flinch as she draws the cloth across his face anymore. Even across his eye, where he once threatened to ruin her bloodline with a single bite if she persisted. Now he’s closed off to the world around him, and it makes Annalyn wonder if there’s anything left in that body of his, or if he’s just a shell of what he once was.

For good measure she draws the blanket over Caleb’s lower section so that she doesn’t think about it too much.

Pulling back a loose strand of her red hair, Annalyn works her way across Caleb’s face, gently scrubbing the dried blood from cuts and his frequent nosebleeds. She continues drawing the washcloth as smoothly as she could down to his neck, and the Cambion finally shivers to life out of the sheer fear of being touched anywhere else, a low, animalistic whine working its way from his lungs. Caleb’s tail curls, unburdened by the blanket, over his covered legs in an effort to protect himself.

Annalynn swallows. “Stay still,” she orders softly. He doesn’t respond to much else besides orders, as she remembers her sibling telling her.

Caleb immediately falls still, single eye staring, frozen with fear, at the same spot on the wall. Annalynn feels a strange twist in her stomach, discomfort and a strange sense of power making her unsure of how to properly interpret herself for a moment.

He stays like that, faded pupil shaking as it darts quickly, as if he was looking at something. Annalynn finally glances behind her to only see the lovely wooden walls of the house she lives in.

“What are you looking at?” she asks, trying to keep her voice soft. She knows he has to answer her. It’s not like he has a choice.

“I… I s-see-see… him…” he whispers. “If… if ‘m… ‘m st-still, he… he w-w-wo-won… won’t…”

Caleb’s eye fills with tears as he grits his teeth, filled with countless emotions that Annalynn can’t even begin to understand. She purses her lips, pausing to draw some of the hair sticking to his forehead back behind his ear to offer some sort of comfort to the Cambion.

“That’s…” She swallows again, unsure of how to go about this. Annalynn forces a smile, even if Caleb can’t see her right now anyway. “That’s right, just stay still, Caleb. Think you can do that?”

His breath hitches, catching somewhere in the back of his throat. “Y-y-yes, M-Miss…” Caleb mumbles.

“Good… good boy.” Nothing in his posture changes, of course, because Caleb was already so still it’s hard to tell that he’s not a statue, but Annalynn knew that being told he was good seemed to comfort him. His breathing relaxes, just a fraction, and that makes her feel a bit better about praising him in the first place. 

As she continues her self assigned task, Annalynn can’t help but catch the subtle creak of the door to the bedroom. Out of the corner of her eye she catches reddened hair like hers peeking in through the cracks, but she ignores it until it becomes the entire body finally slipping into the room. Then she finally tilts her head in their direction, seeing Aridai quietly moving towards the bed.

“He behaving for you this time?” Aridai murmurs to keep to the quiet atmosphere to the room, a slight smirk on their face. They, too, remember when Caleb was much more feisty than this.

They were probably the one to make sure he was never like that to Annalynn ever again.

“He is. I-I don’t want to know what you did to him, to make him like this, Ari,” she says quickly as their mouth opens. It was easy to see that glimmer of excitement that sparked in their eyes, to explain how well they’ve learned to break someone to a thousand pieces and keep only the bits they wanted.

Aridai seems disappointed, slightly, but shrugs. “Your loss. But it is much easier like this, yeah?” They stride over to Annalynn’s side, by Caleb’s head, crouching so that they cut off his view of the wall. Aridai reaches out and pets Caleb, and she watches as he begins to shake, just slightly. “I think this is the quietest either of us have gotten him in a while. Isn’t that right, little diamond?”

They ruffle his hair with a small chuckle, eyes practically glinting the more that Caleb panics. He looks away from Aridai in the hopes that their presence was merely an illusion, momentarily broken from his spell out of desperation. Annalynn catches his gaze, and Caleb’s eyes lock onto her as his breathing quickens.

Begging for help. For anything.

Annalynn forces herself to stay still and watch.

“Hey, don’t look at her like that, you manipulative thing,” Aridai snaps, tilting Caleb’s head forcefully by his curved horns so that he could no longer look at Annalynn. Then, pleased, their eyes turn back to Annalynn to scan her face. “Anyways. I’m getting ready for bed. I just came in here to say goodnight.”

“Ah. Well, um… goodnight, Aridai.” Her voice is tense, but if Aridai caught it they don’t seem to show it.

“Night. As for you,” they say, turning their head back to Caleb. They lean forward, planting a kiss on the side of his head, careful to not get speared by the Cambion’s horns. “Goodnight, Elisha.”

As more tears sprang to Caleb’s eyes from the name, Annalynn’s sibling pulls away and walks out of the room.

She sighs, watching as the life drains from Caleb’s eyes.

[whumpshaped]

about this: https://www.tumblr.com/whumpshaped/734481397867298816/whumpee-being-addicted-to-the-enthrallment

imagine whumpee two as the more 'rational' one, and despite almost being tempted to surrender to their cravings, they manage to shake that off. bonus point if they're morally dubious. whumpee two knows that whumpee one is too far gone, but they know they still have to get them both out of here, so they 'convince' whumpee two to volunteer each time whumper comes to their cage because 1. whumpee one likes it anyway, 2. whumpee two needs their mind intact to plan an escape.

that's it until whumper realizes what happens and gives whumpee two a 'special treatment'. whumpee two would come back to their cell feeling conflicted with whumpee one staring daggers at them in jealousy. and they have never felt so broken mind and soul before.

prev

tw vampire whumper, multiple whumpees, captivity, betrayal, victim blaming, mind control

As Caretaker was stumbling back towards the cell, they didn’t have the capacity to wonder how Whumpee would be affected by their little outing. Even after they’d gotten back, they barely registered the jealous glare on their friend’s face. All they wanted was some quiet and peace.

Whumper hadn’t gone easy on them. As pleasant as the whole thing had turned out to be, they were drained, mentally and physically. They didn’t care about the plan, they didn’t care about being liked by another human, all they cared about was being a good thrall.

“How was it?” Whumpee asked bitterly. “The enthrallment you wanted no part of, I mean. The enthrallment you said you hated. You look pretty blissed out to me, honestly.”

“Can you shut up?”

“No! No, I can’t! You’re so fucking disgusting! You give me this whole fucking pitch about your perfect plan, you say you have no interest in this, you say you’ll break us out– I don’t even care! I would’ve been happy staying here! But now you– you’re just–”

“What? Now I’m what?” they snapped. “Stealing your vampire master? Are you jealous? Do you think I had a fucking choice? Do you think I wanted this?”

“I think–”

“No, shut the fuck up. Maybe if you were interesting enough, like I fucking asked you to be, you could’ve kept their attention on yourself. Don’t try to paint this as if it’s my fault.”

Whumpee looked genuinely hurt by that, and Caretaker almost wanted to take it back. But honestly? Whumpee deserved to be confronted. Even Whumper coddled them all the time, they needed a reality check.

“Do you really think that?” Whumpee asked weakly.

Caretaker didn’t respond. They turned over onto their side, facing the wall instead. They soon heard Whumpee doing the same.

They fell asleep to the gut-wrenching lullaby of their friend slowly crying themself to sleep.