#unsuspecting whumpee?

[generic-whumperz]

This one’s for all the unsuspecting Caretakers out there 🥂

[generic-whumper]

Favorite Whumpee and Caretaker scenes? Idk man, but I’m a sucker for a bath scene where Caretaker is washing the blood and filth out of Whumpee’s hair, and then gently detangles their knots with a wide-tooth comb- being extra careful as to not pull Whumpee’s hair.

I’m a sucker for Caretaker cautiously washing Whumpee’s wounds and carefully scrubbing dried blood and smeared dirt off their body with delicate and attentive hands.

I’m a sucker for Catetaker tending to Whumpee’s wounds, applying ointment and bandages to cuts and gashes, paying extra attention to any that may be infected.

I’m a sucker for Caretaker helping Whumpee dress into some comfy jam-jams and tucking them into bed with a mug of hot tea and some painkillers, and maybe even a melatonin gummy to help Whumpee sleep though the night.

I’m a sucker for Caretaker staying with Whumpee until they fall asleep and holding their hand in an act of comfort and support if they want or need it.

I’m a sucker for a Caretaker doing Caretaker things because it’s just so wholesome and endearing and I think we could all use a little more care in our lives.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1014

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

Drugging drinks is one of my favorite whump tropes, but how about drugging ice cream? Whumpee goes to get ice cream, unaware the the person running the store is either a villain or just a jerk. How will the poison work? Does it work immediately? or does it start in a few hours?

[reds-whump-prompts]

Underrated Hostage Tropes

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

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

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

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

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

[crowzwhump]

Tw: Vampire Whump | Vampire Whumper | Kidnapping | Noncon Vampire Feeding | Stalking (let me know if I need to add any!)

The city was bathed in the soft glow of the full autumns moon hung high in the sky, the soft glow of streetlights, casting long, eerie shadows across the empty sidewalks.

In this urban labyrinth, Whumpee, a young and unsuspecting individual, hurried through the narrow alleyways, unaware that they were being stalked by a predator of the darkest kind.

Whumper, a modern vampire with a taste for the thrill of the chase, had spotted Whumpee earlier in a bustling cafe, their heart racing as they sensed the sweet aroma of innocence that clung to their chosen prey.

As Whumpee turned the corner, they were startled to find themselves face to face with Whumper, who had been lurking in the shadows, just out of sight, now stepped into the dim light, a charming smile playing on their lips.

"Lost, are we?" Whumper purred, their voice as seductive as a siren's song.

They moved closer, their eyes locking onto Whumpee's, holding them in a captivating gaze.

Whumpee, disoriented and slightly flustered by the sudden encounter, stammered, "I… I wasn't expecting to run into anyone here."

The Whumper's smile widened.

"Well Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, Doesn't it?" they mused.

"In fact, I could use your help with something. You see, I'm looking for a particular place, and I seem to have lost my way. Would you be so kind as to assist me?"

Whumpee hesitated, their guard slowly lowering in the presence of the charismatic stranger.

"I suppose I could help you find your way," they replied cautiously.

Whumper's smile only grew, "Wonderful!" They said, "I do appreciate your kindness, truley."

As Whumpee turned their attention to giving directions, the Whumper's predatory instincts sharpened as the conversation continued, their words a hypnotic melody that dulled Whumpee's senses.

But as Whumpee's back was turned, Whumper finally saw their opportunity.

In a swift and shocking move, the vampire lunged forward, wrapping their cold, strong arms around Whumpee.

"W-what are you--!?" Whumpee gasped in surprise, the realization of their peril sinking in too late.

"You're too trusting, my dear," Whumper whispered, their breath sending shivers down Whumpee's spine. "But don't worry; I promise to make this encounter unforgettable."

Terror seized Whumpee's heart as they felt the fangs graze softly their neck, Their eyes widened while their breath quickening as panic set in.

"No, please, don't!" Whumpee begged, their voice quivering with fear. "I'll do anything, just let me go!"

"Anything, you say? How intriguing," Whumper purred, their grip tightening around Whumpee's trembling form pulling them closer against them. "But I'm afraid it's too late for negotiations, my dear."

Whumpee's breaths came in ragged gasps as they struggled to comprehend the nightmare they had been pulled into.

"What… what are you?" they stammered, tears welling up in their eyes.

The Whumper leaned in, their lips brushing against Whumpee's earlobe, sending a shiver of dread down their spine.

"I'm a creature of the night," Whumper hissed, their tone both seductive and menacing. "A vampire, if you will, and you, my dear, are about to become part of my world."

Tears streamed down Whumpee's face as they whispered, "P-please, there mm-must be another w-way. I don't ww-want to die."

The Whumper's eyes gleamed with an unholy hunger as they gazed into Whumpee's tear-filled eyes.

"Oh, you misunderstand me," They murmured. "I won't let you die. No, I intend to keep you alive, to make you my Blood Bag."

With a gentle but firm grip, Whumper lifted Whumpee's chin, exposing the pale, vulnerable curve of their throat while the moonlight danced upon the delicate skin, emphasizing the pulsing vein beneath.

As Whumpee's trembling body was held firmly in the Whumper's grasp, the vampire's fangs pierced their delicate skin.

A sharp, exquisite pain shot through Whumpee, followed by an intense sensation of pleasure that was impossible to resist.

Whumper's venomous saliva mixed with Whumpee's blood, igniting a euphoria that left them weak at the knees.

Whumper fed with a calculated rhythm, their lips pressed against the wound, their tongue dancing over the puncture marks, savoring every drop, and as the first drops of blood touched the their tongue, a shiver of pleasure coursed through their body.

Whumper's hand, cool and gentle, caressed Whumpee's cheek, guiding their face to the side to allow for better access to their throbbing vein.

The Vampire's tongue flicked over the wound, lapping up the crimson nectar that flowed from Whumpee's neck.

The taste was intoxicating, like the finest vintage wine, all while whumpee's heartbeat echoed in their ears, the rhythm of their life force lulling the Whumper into a hypnotic trance.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as Whumper fed, savoring every drop of precious life essence.

Whumpee's breaths grew shallow, and their vision blurred, the world around them fading into obscurity.

Finally, once Whumpee's body had grown frail and their breaths dangerously shallow, Whumper withdrew, their lips stained crimson.

They watched with a cruel satisfaction as Whumpee slumped forward, unconscious and utterly helpless.

With a predatory grace, Whumper gathered Whumpee's limp form into their arms their pulse had grown feeble, and their body had become a mere vessel, emptied of life.

Whumper's eyes glittered with triumph as they turned away from the moonlit alley, disappearing into the night with their newfound Blood Bag.

[cyberwhumper]

"Not the brightest decision on yer part, right?" The man laughs, guiding his captive through the seemingly endless crowd of people. All wrapped up in their own distractions, lost in a world of their concerns and tasks and appointments, not a single person seems to pay the two of them any mind. Not that, to them, there would be anything perceived as amiss anyway.

Pulled taut behind his back, restraints sitting so flush they bit into his skin, Whiskey's arms are sore and pained. This wasn't far from the reality of what happens when a mule is caught transporting illegal goods, but these people are supposed to be on his side. There's only one possibility in his mind that could lead to him being treated like this: Baxter thinks I snitched. Fuck.

A whole group of them had ambushed him outside an apartment building and roughed him up quite generously before Whiskey managed to slip away. Running had not gotten all of them off his trail, however, and when he was inevitably caught again they were all very eager to beat him up further for daring to escape. He's pulled up to his feet, unsteady and disoriented, restrained and redressed, dragged around like cattle through the parade of unsuspecting people.

The ritual humiliation is frustrating, sure. But being unable to do anything about it is nothing short of infuriating.

Realistically he knows what will happen to him once they reach Baxter. The man will string him up, beat him within an inch of his life, leave him there for someone else to cut down. Make an example of him. Torture recorded for later showings, abuse carved into the very essence of his being. Every step is another step in the direction of his demise.

When faced with the gallows, what other option did he have but to face it with his head held high?

In the hours that follow, as his flesh is pummeled and bruised and cut and burned, defiance serves as very little consolation.

But it sure makes Baxter mad.

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[em-writes-stuff]

Killing in Self Defense

day 10 of @febuwhump

whumper and whumpee

287 words

warnings: cursing, non con touching,

~

Whumper presses the barrel of his gun against Whumpee’s throat, “I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

Whumpee whimpers and swallows thickly. He shakes his head and tears well in his eyes.

“Please-” he’s cut off by Whumper’s other hand trailing its way up his stomach over his shirt. “Stop.” 

Whumper tilts his head and frowns, “You don’t like it?” 

Whumpee starts to shake his head, but freezes when Whumper’s hand stops right above his heart. 

“Do you realize how…easy it would be for me to just-” Whumper squeezes his hand over Whumpee’s chest, bunching the material of his shirt in his fist, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. 

Whumper stares into Whumpee’s eyes and tilts his head again, “Aw, are you scared?” 

He opens his fist and smooths the material over Whumpee’s chest. “It’s alright if you are. I just want to know. You’re putting on such a brave face for me.” 

Whumpee bites his cheek and looks up to keep the tears from falling. Whumper grabs his chin and pulls his face down to look at him. “I asked you a fucking question, Whumpee. Are you scared?” 

“Terrified.” Whumpee whispers. 

Whumper chuckles and lowers the gun. “Good.” 

In one swift movement, Whumpee reaches for the gun, pries it from Whumper’s unsuspecting hands and points it at him. 

“What about you?” Whumpee says, finger on the trigger. “Are you scared?” 

He rolls his head, “Come on, put the gun down. I was never going to shoot you. It was just a game, Whumpee. Give me the gun.” 

Whumpee scoffs and shakes his head, pressing the muzzle of the gun against Whumper’s temple. “I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

And before Whumper can respond, he pulls the trigger. 

[letstalkwhump]

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host today. 

Here today to talk all things whumpy is the brilliant @whumpcereal!

It’s great to have you here! Let’s start with a fact or two about yourself  like your favorite color or favorite animal? 

My name is Kay, and I’m a high school teacher in my 30’s. Besides whumping unsuspecting gentlemen, my hobbies include reading a lot, belting out showtunes, cooking for people I love, hitting up new bars and restaurants with friends, and traveling. And since you asked–and as a teacher, I hate unanswered questions–I’ve recently realized that orange might be my favorite color, and I love gorillas. 

What does whump mean to you?

 It’s the sort of pressing-on-a-bruise feeling that is wrapped up in watching someone suffer and then be comforted. It’s the need for vulnerability and human connection. It’s watching Prince Philip get chained to a wall and not understanding why you find it so magnetic, but you do, haha! 

How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I was writing for the Newsies fandom (I know) during the pandemic, and one of my favorite authors tagged her epic work with “whump.” I clicked the tag on tumblr, and I found @lonesome--hunter’s Ezra almost immediately; I fell down the rabbit hole and never came out. After Ezra, I spent a good long time with @ashintheairlikesnow’s Danny and then @galaxywhump’s Wren. I realized that a lot of what I was putting in my own writing could be classified as “whump,” but I wasn’t sure how to join in the fun. I lurked for a while and then beta-ed for @darkthingshappen before I got brave enough to post my own stuff. But part of what motivated me to start posting was just how supportive and welcoming the whole community is. On AO3, you can get tons of hits but almost no real engagement; with whump, that’s totally different. It makes my little dopamine receptors ping. 

The whump community is amazingly supportive! Do you think your view on or the way you consume whump changed since you joined? 

 I am definitely a hurt/comfort gal. I can’t do the hurt without the comfort, and I need my whump to be strongly oriented in the characters’ feelings, whether we’re talking whumpers or whumpees. I struggle when a character is just getting the shit kicked out of them endlessly; I want them to have some relief, even if the relief is bittersweet or painful in its own way. I also find it easier to whump an OC than I do a fandom character, just because if they’re mine, I can build the kind of backstory that makes the whump reasonable. 

And your favourite whump trope?

 I do like noncon. Whump is a genre where I’ve really been able to explore scary things that have happened to me, and when a whumpee has an honest (and not needlessly gratuitous) nonconsensual experience, I gravitate toward it, especially if they’re allowed to explore the aftermath and how it makes them feel. I also love a mute whumpee–probably because I watched The Little Mermaid too many times growing up. Something about the helplessness of being trapped in your own body and at the mercy of others–hey, whumperflies! Captivity whump too, especially anything in the BBU. The BBU was one of my favorite discoveries when I found the community. It provides such rich opportunities! 

Captivity whump is so good! Would you mind sharing a favourite piece you've written? (the following pieces may contain non-explicit nsfw references)

Ooooh. Well, I guess I’ll choose one from each of my series. For Jack, my first and forever whumpee in Behavior Modification, and his caretaker, my wish-fulfillment fake husband, Joe, it’s this piece with their little girl. It’s something that I wrote in basically a single stretch one afternoon last summer, and I’m proud of it because it shows both how far Jack has come in his recovery and how much everything he’s gone through is still affecting him. It also shows how fierce of a protector Joe is, even though Jack’s got strength of his own. Plus, Hallie, their little girl, was super fun to create. She’s a feisty little thing, and I liked the idea of looking at such a dark, violent system through a child’s eyes. 

For The Kennel, it’s this piece which immediately follows my boy Will after his best friend Tommy is forced to assault him. It’s got the aftermath of noncon, plus it includes a lot of world building for my scary whumper, Doc, and his particular set-up. It really sets up the horror of the situation in which Will and Tommy have found themselves and also emphasizes the stories of other whumpees whose stories I’d love to explore (Justin and Tony, I’m looking at you). Plus, it gives Annie–who’s technically the caretaker in this story, even though she’s been abused herself–a chance to think about how she’s been raised and the way her father treats people. My favorite moment is when Will just breaks down completely, because we haven’t seen him do that yet. It’s a human moment, and he’s feeling so much less than human that it’s almost cathartic. 

And then, honorable mention to this piece where I crossover my two stories and let Jack help Will as his post-rescue counselor. I had so much fun with that reveal! 

Oh wow, I love the Kennel piece! You’ve broken my heart with Justin and Will! Would you like to share your writing routine  with us?

 I’ve actually been riding a bit of a block lately, but typically, I am an evening writer. No drinks or snacks, but usually movie scores that match the mood of what I’m writing. On good nights, it’s big blocks; on others, it’s just a sentence here and there (that’s been where I’m at lately). I try to write a little every day, but again, it’s been rough lately. Being a teacher at the end of the year is just as hard as being a student, haha. 

I can only imagine! Are some things easier for you to write? Anything you struggle with writing?

 I have an easier time writing recovery than I do straight whump, which is sometimes a bummer, because the whump community doesn’t seem to like recovery quite as much. So, I’ll pour myself into a recovery piece I have big feelings about, and then it won’t get quite as much traffic and engagement as when I’m roughing up the boys. I am very careful about how I write noncon. I think I do a decent job, but I try to approach it from a place of sensitivity to the person who is suffering versus engaging through violence alone. That can take a lot of time and thought and big feelings. 

And is there anything you're working on at the moment? 

I do have a fantasy crossover miniseries with Jack, Joe, and Ivan and @oddsconverts’ Josh and Felix that I’ve had a really fun time working on. I need to write a little intro before I post it. I need to go back to Jack and his intimacy consultations at WRU, and AU AU Joe and his reaction to the Drip. Poor Will and Tommy are in desperate need of attention; I need to get Will sold away so all the drama can increase. Maybe during summer vacation? 

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today? I am only funny on accident. Just ask my students. ;-) 

Do you have any writing advice you’d like to share?

I’m great at giving advice to others, but absolute shit at following that advice myself. For instance, write for you. Don’t write for hits, likes, reblogs, etc. Just write what you want to read. Write as often as you can. During the pandemic, what got me back into writing after years of thinking about it was trying to write a little every day. Find you some writing friends who will get excited with you when there’s something you can’t wait to write about. 

Finally, would you like to give a mention to some of the amazing people in the whump community?

I already mentioned some of my favorites, but shout outs to @hold-him-down (whom I was lucky enough to eat very expensive risotto with this spring and whose Leo is one of my very favorite whumpees), @peachy-panic (58 Days is one of my VERY favorites), @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump (whose Wyatt has my whole heart), and @squishablesunbeam (I mean, Jesse? Come on!). My first friends in the whump community were @darkthingshappen (creator of my Benny baby), @oddsconvert (whose series are all so beautifully written that I can’t choose a favorite–she even made me like vampire whump–and who is my wonder twin forever), and @sparrowsage (go check out his new stuff!). 

Thank you so much for joining us, @whumpcereal ! It was a pleasure to have you here! 

And to all you lovely folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Content: Stress positions, multiple whumpees, public whump, talk of beatings, human furniture (sort of?), [multiple] whumpee-turned-whumper.

Whumper is the owner of a popular clothing shop, but their main attraction is the lifelike mannequins that are placed by the windows and around the shop each day. With chillingly lifelike features, they've managed to capture the attention of many customers who come there purely to gawk at them.

Little do they know that Whumper's little mannequins are victims they've caught over the years. Victims that believe they have no right to speak up about the beatings and the awful conditions in which they are kept in behind the scenes. Whumper circles the store each day, keeping an eye on everyone as they go. No one is to blink when someone is looking at them, and no one is to move even an inch from the position Whumper has chosen for them. If so much as one does, all of them are punished - no exceptions.

It kills them to know that they are so close and yet so far from safety. One day, they might find the courage to move from their spot. To beg an unsuspecting customer to help them and all the other people Whumper has victimed--

--but until then, they choose to stay complient and good. They can't risk it, because they've never been sure which is worse; the beatings everyone gets from Whumper whenever someone messes up, or the beating all the whumpees give the one who messes up after the lights are out and Whumper is gone for the night.

[whumpbump]

Whumpril day 17

Cw: self-treatment, panic, cursing, resetting a dislocated joint

Caretaker’s cellphone rang, Whumpee’s name flashing on the screen. Unsuspecting of what was about to occur, they picked up and cheerily answered.

“Caretaker?” Whumpee asked in a small and breathless voice immediately cluing Caretaker in to what the call was about.

“Yyyyeessss?” Caretaker responded slowly.

“I uh, I fucked up. I fucked up bad.” They wavered.

Caretaker’s heart rate picked up.

“How bad?”

“Um…”

“Tell me. Please. In detail.”

“I dislocated my knee and I’ve spent the past 30 minutes trying to reset it and I can’t,” Whumpee’s voice broke, “it hurts.” They were crying now.

“Ok, ok, it’s going to be ok-“

“How do you know thaaaat?!”

“Because we’re going to go to the hospital and make it ok. I’m going to pick you up, where are you?”

“My house, bottom of the steps. The door is unlocked,” sniffled Whumpee.

[rainydaywhump]

Reed - Pt 14: Unlucky, Pt 3

Several hours ago, Dylos was still a smug, arrogant trafficker. Scum, sure, but rich scum. Now, however? He's collapsed in a cellar, surrounded by the aftermath of his latest sale's protector.

Last part about Dylos. Then, back to Reed.

Taglist: @i-eat-worlds @pigeonwhumps @den-of-whump @generic-whumperz @turn-the-tables-on-them !

CWs/themes: whumper turned whumpee; caretaker whumping whumper in order to save whumpee; gore; major injuries; vomiting mention; future amputation mentioned; noncon drugging; restraints; blunt force trauma; torture

Dylos wasn’t a medical expert, but there were several things he was sure of.

For one, his intestines should be completely inside his body.

Two, his leg wasn’t supposed to be a bloody, pulpy mess of hammer-smashed flesh and bone.

Three, the fact that he was drifting off, his world literally fading to black, and unable to feel pain anymore except for a dull throb in his ribs was…probably concerning.

He blinked hazily, slumped on the cold, grimy stone floor of – gods, he didn’t even know where that bitch had brought him after she drugged him. Drugged him! Dylos was supposed to be the one drugging other unsuspecting people, not the other way around! He blinked and blearily looked around, a very distant part of his mind cataloging what he saw: his own vomit and blood splattered on the cobblestones, and again, he was no medical expert, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t good either.

Gods, he was losing it.

When he’d first woken up here, he was bound tight to the wall and Cervine was carving miniscule lines into his bare chest. She’d just nodded when he opened his eyes. “Oh, good. I want to get this over with.”

Dylos blinked in confusion, then awareness, then alarm. “What the fuck are you --!”

He jerked at the chains, but they held fast. It was then that Dylos began to comprehend his situation: he was restrained, stripped to the waist, had no idea where he was, had a pounding headache from his drink, and was at the mercy of what was apparently a madwoman.

His gaze fell to the twin blades hanging from her belt, and it all came back to him.

She was the one who’d massacred those soldiers. Not the scrawny spy he’d nabbed – if he even was a spy, really – but her. He’d captured and sold an enemy, no doubt, but he’d gotten the wrong target. He’d been tricked. Tricked! That damn spy never told him he wasn’t alone! And now his devil of a girlfriend or whatever had captured him, and Dylos was not supposed to be a fucking captive!

“I don’t have ‘im,” he growled. “You got the wrong guy, too.”

“Then I hope for your sake that you know where he is,” she said coldly.

“Pfft. You heard me back in the tavern, sweetheart. I don’t give away my business secrets for – AAAAAAHH!”

Cervine had plunged her dagger into his gut and twisted it with all her might. Dylos screamed and saw white as his eyes rolled back into his skull, muscles spasming in agony.

“Stop! Stop it!” He yelled. “You fucking bitch, how dare you?!”

“Arrogant ass,” came Cervine’s voice, and she withdrew the dagger only to plunge it into the other side of his stomach, this time dragging it up his torso. “Who did you sell him to? Give me the name.”

Dylos couldn’t – couldn’t speak – could only wish to cover his ears to stop the sound of his own dreadful keening from overwhelming his mind.

“The name, Dylos,” she demanded.

“Gods, you fucking psychopath – okay, okay, here’s the name! Calac Strongson! Now lemme go!”

“Lying won’t help you,” Cervine said coolly, and his heart sank as he stared at her in shock. How did she know?

“You’re an ass and a moron,” she continued, and she – she – gods – Dylos howled in indescribable pain and horror as she reached into his savaged flesh and tugged at his innards.

The guts themselves didn’t feel much, oddly enough. That didn’t matter to the nerves around them. Dylos thrashed and screamed oaths and curses and pleas in every language he knew to every god he had a passing relationship with, and the whole time, his torturer just watched with not an ounce of satisfaction.

It wasn’t enough for her.

“Three years ago, I found my teammate dead by the hand of scum like you.” Her words wove in and out of the upper limits of his consciousness. “I vowed to myself that I would never let something like that happen again. One year after that,” she continued, “I was forced to watch as my mentor was put through torture so horrific and humiliating that he left the service he’d dedicated his life to. I saved him, but he was still dead. I can still remember exactly what was done to him. It’s burned into my mind. Don’t you see?”

Dylos moaned in answer – it was all he could do.

“My point, slaver,” she spat, “is that I have a vested interest in finding Reed, and I also have a vested interest in repeating whatever sick tactics were needlessly used on innocents on you so I can find him.”

She sheathed her blade and retrieved something from the corner.

It was a hammer.

…

She was gone.

Dylos had talked.

His stubbornness had been for nothing.

Even if he had kept Ilde’s name a secret, it wasn’t worth it. He would never recover properly from this. He couldn’t hunt people with one leg. He had thought she would believe his lie or give up before hurting him too badly, and he was wrong. His refusal to talk, his arrogant confidence that she’d leave, had pushed her over the edge to the point of no return, and he had paid the price for it.

He couldn’t survive this.

Cervine had tossed the bag of medical supplies at him, but merely opening it took all of his energy. Dylos collapsed on the blood-and-vomit covered floor and stared at the clean white bandages and bottles of poultice fell out inches from his face.

The world went dark for the second time that day just as he heard, from somewhere up above, “Hey! Anyone down there?”

[generic-whumper]

Caretaker & Whumpee Introduction Ideas/ Prompts (Stranger Edition): Pt.1

Instances where Caretaker stumbles upon a poor little helpless whumpee, what will they do?

Whumpee is afraid of Caretaker and thinks they are Whumper (or a new/another Whumper), so they cower and bow their head as they tremble and softly whimper to themself when Caretaker enters the room.

Caretaker is equally terrified.

A wave of different scenarios play out in Caretaker’s mind all at once when they see a beaten and bloodied stranger chained to a wall- does Caretaker decide to quietly leave and possibly come back once they made an escape plan? Or, do they not think that this is their problem and do they promptly get out of there and try to never think of Whumpee again? Or are they a good samaritan who acts first (help Whumpee immediately) and thinks later (formulate a plan as they go)?

Caretaker thinks they are a good samaritan…

[thatmultifandomchick]

Meet Cove! Or as I like to call him, Unsuspecting Whumpee!

He just found out the plant he's been watering for years is fake. He can't do addition without counting on his fingers. He is experiencing seemingly prophetic nightmares about an eldritch terror lurking beneath the waves. But he's not going to let any of that stop him from becoming a marine biologist!

Right now, though, he's just a librarian.

More under the cut!

Bonus hairs:

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[pigeonwhumps]

Game ideas for whumpers, whumpees, and unsuspecting caretakers

CWs: Drinking games, brief mention of forced self-harm

Never Have I Ever. A group of Whumpers get together and talk about how they've whumped people. Alternatively, a group of Whumpees/former Whumpees drink about how they've been whumped (nevermind a group of Whumpees, even with only one this is also a great way for an unsuspecting Caretaker/Friend to find out about whump – "oh no-one will get this one, never have I ever been kidnapped– wtf Whumpee" as they chug their drink)

Strip poker, except each Whumper brings a Whumpee and they're the one who loses clothing. Potential for a non-competitive Whumper to lose on purpose to show off Whumpee.

Watch Whumpee through a camera in their cell and take a shot every time they scream etc.

Truth or Dare. On Whumper's turn, dare them to do something horrible to their Whumpee. On Whumpee's turn, force them to reveal a humiliating secret or dare them to do something to themself or another Whumpee. Or serve Whumper in some way. Really bad forfeits.

Russian Roulette. For obvious reasons.

Using your Whumpee as a bet in a card game.

Two Truths and a Lie. A good one for an unsuspecting Friend/Caretaker and a Whumpee who doesn't realise what they've gone through is wrong.

Bingo. Multiple Whumpers again. Instead of numbers, it's methods of whumping that they've used. Do they need proof that they've done all these things (with showing Whumpee's body or photos or whatever) or not?

Twister. Forcing Whumpee to hold positions, harsh punishments if they fall. Great for stress positions!

I'm sure there's more. But I can't think of any rn.

[whumpurr]

Wreckx part 2

cw: unlikeable whumpee, stalking, creepy whumpee, male whumpee, autistic whumpee (written by autistic writer), cyberstalking, self hatred, unreliable narrator

masterlist

--

Wreckx, the loser that he was, had to take the bus to get to the diner. Of fucking course he didn’t know how to drive. He tried once, got too frightened behind the wheel, and swore off it. The black backpack on his lap had everything he needed for the job. 

A camera with high zoom, his phone, and his cyberdeck. The cyberdeck looked like a bluetooth keyboard to any unsuspecting citizen, but using it, he was able to hack into whatever he needed to. Within reason, of course. 

It was an external interface for his internal systems, a sort of brain chip put in his head that let him see into the digital space. It depicted lines of code as a branching node graph that he could navigate, and through that, he would be able to hack into any CCTV cameras in the area, and follow Rei Khan on her trip back home with them.

He got out of the bus at the nearest stop to the diner.

The street was still shiny and wet from the rain earlier today. The air was heavy with humidity. The pavement caught the bright lights from the street lights, but this part of town was far quieter than where Wreckx lived. Less bustle and neon, fewer cars passing by him. He didn’t mind it. 

The walk to the diner was quick, but littered with glances over his shoulder. With the streets as quiet as they were, there was never anybody behind him, much less following him. He walked for a handful of minutes before coming up on the diner. It was old, nostalgic, metal with red and blue neon lights on the outside. Through the window he could see the warm lights and the red booths, and inside, an attractive woman in a yellow shirt and red skirt, hair tied up high behind her. She matched the photos on social media that Wreckx had stalked through beforehand.

He found a grimy, disgusting spot nestled between two dumpsters beside the diner (it’s where he belonged). He wasn’t likely to get spotted there, so he went ahead and tapped into the camera feeds inside the diner. 

She was tending to the few patrons who were still there at such a late hour, her dark ponytail swaying with her walk. She really was attractive. Somebody Wreckx had no hope of ever being with, so what did it matter if something unsavory happened to her? She would just turn him down and call him a creep anyways, so that meant that she was a bad, cruel person. One who wouldn’t even give him the time of day-

Wreckx stopped his mental tirade and refocused on the cameras. When he was tapped in like this, because his cyberdeck was hooked up to his brain chip, it projected over his actual vision. He wouldn’t be able to see someone sneaking up on him so easily, so he really had to stay focused so he could get the info he needed without having to make a second attempt.

Her shift wrapped up as the minutes ticked by and she left the diner. Wreckx seamlessly swapped from the diner’s security cameras to the CCTV footage dotted along the street. She boarded a bus, and Wreckx followed along with the bus’ interior security cameras. She eventually disembarked, and walked ten minutes down to her house. It was small, but kept up well enough. It looked like there was nobody else home. Better for him.

The distance from his camp out spot to the house made it a little harder for him to keep the connection steady, but he managed. The footage became grainy or distorted at some parts, but thanks to her having a doorbell camera, he caught her entering the house.

He wasn’t sure if that would be enough for his benefactors, though. They stated that they wanted a photo of her inside the house. He couldn’t fuck up such a big payday.

With a grumble, Wreckx shut down the feed and pulled himself off the floor, grimacing at the dampness of the concrete beneath him. He was welcomed by the familiar head rush of cutting the connection in his brain chip, spots clouding his vision for a moment before he headed for the same bus that she had taken.

He had committed the route to memory. It was simple enough, he just had to hope that there was no neighborhood watch looking out for suspicious individuals (especially losers in black trench coats and face masks). He slung his bag over his shoulder and took the bus, getting off at the same stop Rei had. From there, he just had to cover the walk, and he was greeted by the familiar, small house.

He arrived just in time to see the lights in the last lit up window turn off. He surveyed the area. There was a fence dividing her house from the neighbors’, which made his job a little bit more difficult. On top of that, there was no shrubbery or trees to be seen. So he would just have to crouch at the window and hope that she wasn’t looking outside at that very moment. He’d also have to pray that none of her neighbors see him prowling around.

It wasn’t common for him to take jobs that involved going to someone’s residence. For the majority of his work, he would hack into corporate security cameras, or other posted cams inside businesses. He couldn’t deny the rush he got from this kind of work, though. It made his hands tremble in a way that was entirely counterproductive to him trying to get a clean, steady photo.

He fitted his camera with the medium zoom, night vision lens and turned off the flash, closing in on the window. He crouched, staying low and close to the building’s outer wall. As he made it beneath the window, he hoped that this was her bedroom, and that she was still inside it.

Wreckx’s boots scraped on the concrete beneath him as he turned and pulled his back off the wall, prepped his camera, and poked up just above the windowsill. He trusted his autofocus enough that he immediately clicked the button and shot back down under the window to inspect the photo, not even knowing what the image captured yet.

Fast fingers tapped at screens and buttons until a photo popped up on the display screen. That was Rei, alright. She was huddled under the blankets, eyes focused on her cell phone, which cast a pale blue light across her face. It made her look even more attractive to Wreckx, to catch her at such a vulnerable moment. It seemed that she hadn’t even noticed him. 

The photo was surely enough for the job. He crept back out towards the front of the house, capturing a few photos of the exterior and taking note of the address for his benefactor (only for his benefactor, of course).

A successful job, just like any other. Wreckx scurried back home to his tiny apartment, ruminating on his actions while he was on the bus ride back. He didn’t want to seem overeager, but against his better judgment, he sent the photos over as soon as he got back to his place.

Around an hour passed before AnonyMouse gave any sort of correspondence back, and when they did, it was in the form of a link to an account where the money was waiting for him. Six grand for one night’s work was dizzying to Wreckx, and he snatched the money up as quickly as he could. The job wasn’t even that hard, and it was only slightly worse than the usual depraved things he did for money.

“I’ll keep you on file in case we need something else.” AnonyMouse said, before the connection was terminated.

He blinked a couple times. AnonyMouse called itself a we. That made a pit form in Wreckx’s stomach. It could have been just a mistake, or a royal we, but it felt bad to him. 

Screwloose, Wreckx’s large, robotic cat, plodded over and sat next to his computer desk. He pet its head as though it had fur.

“What do you think of that, baby?” He asked the robot. Of course, it didn’t respond outside of the metallic whirring off its cooling fans. “Mm, okay, well, you’re gonna get some new upgrades soon.” Wreckx changed the subject as though Screwloose could sense the awkwardness.

The paycheck from AnonyMouse made it easier for him to get through the month ahead. Rent, food, he even had some leftover money to buy things that he actually wanted for once. He didn’t remember the last time he was able to do that. He got some upgrades for his camera rig, and some new cooling fans for Screwloose. He managed to sleep comfortably at night, only occasionally kept up by the sickening thought of what might be happening to Rei right now.

Maybe AnonyMouse wanted to kidnap her. Maybe they were going to give her information to someone who would. 

It might be the dumbest idea he’s ever had, but something about AnonyMouse made Wreckx want to go check on Rei. It was around two weeks after he’d done the job when he got out of bed, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door.

--

Taglist: @whumpinthepot

[whumpshaped]

feel absolutely free to ignore this if you don’t have the motivation or ideas for this anymore. but can i ask for more of the guard dog whumpee? their are one of my favorite pet whump tropes and i am starving for guard dog rescue / recovery content 🥺

not rly a continuation.. i have one vivid image in my head and im just gonna throw it at u

tw pet whump, conditioned whumpee, implied past trauma

Whumpee was acting absolutely rabid. Caretaker had no idea what had upset them so much, aside from the unsuspecting passerby whom Whumpee was now entirely fixated on.

"Whumpee," they called quietly, but the tension didn't seem to leave the pet's body, nor did they stop growling. "Whumpee."

Nothing. Whumpee didn't even look at them, they just kept staring at the person walking away from them, unaware of any of this fuss. Caretaker was beginning to worry that Whumpee was going to run after them.

"Whumpee!" they snapped, finally getting their attention.

Whumpee looked back at them and immediately quieted down, bowing their head to make themself smaller. Harmless. Good. They looked like a kicked puppy, as opposed to the bloodhound from a second ago.

"What's going on, buddy?" Caretaker gently scratched behind their ear, relieved to see them still nuzzling against their hand. They were a bit worried that raising their voice like that would make the poor pet afraid. "You're not usually like this around other people..."

Whumpee shook their head a little, likely agreeing with what Caretaker was saying. They cast a worried look in the direction of the stranger, and Caretaker frowned.

"Do you know that person?" After a small pause, the pet slowly nodded. "Bad memories, hm?" Another nod, and Caretaker sighed. "That's okay. There's a bunch of people I don't like either, but, well... I can't just be going around growling at everyone I dislike."

There was a flash of something in Whumpee's eyes, something almost confused, as though they didn't understand why Caretaker wouldn't do that. But then they settled down, ready to resume their walk around the apartment blocks.

Hopefully, they wouldn't bump into the stranger again. For their sake.

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty