#going back to the whumper

[justbreakonme]

Whumpee liked many things about Caretaker.

They had a soft, kind voice, with soft kind hands, and even softer, kinder eyes.

They laughed a lot, and made him laugh too, and didn’t seem to notice when he laughed too long or too loudly or too gracelessly.

They gave him food, nice things, and clothes that fit, and a bed (a real bed, just for them!), but… There was one thing in particular that Whumpee liked the most.

See, Whumpee had never needed to be broken. They’d never dare intentionally step out of line, not even in their wildest dreams or most terrifying nightmares. But, they were flawed. Deeply. And made many mistakes.

But, where Whumper had attributed those mistakes to malice, Caretaker merely corrected him, forgave him, helped him.

He remembered fondly (oh how strange to remember anything fondly) the day Caretaker first brought him home. He had tripped over the edge of the welcome mat, and fell hard, knocking the coat rack down with him.

He had been braced for blows, or at best the yelling and screaming that always reduced him to tears, but, instead, Caretaker had crouched down and asked if he was okay. He had stared, blankly (stupidly), at them, covered in coats and scarves, until Caretaker had moved to help him. He’d flinched, and Caretaker still hadn’t struck him. Instead, they offered a hand, and helped him up.

Caretaker smiled, awkward and toothy and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen, and apologized, (apologized, to him, of all things!) making a little joke about how welcome mat wasn’t very welcoming.

Whumpee had stared for a moment more, still braced for this all to be a trick. Then, it was like something inside him broke, like a rubber band snapping, and he laughed. He’d laughed, hysterical and ugly, till tears came to his eyes, and then couldn’t stop them.

He’d begged through tears that he was sorry, that he was trying to be good (an old habit that had still never died, despite having every reason to), but Caretaker still didn’t raise a hand against him.

He didn’t remember all the details, after that, only that Caretaker had brought him into the kitchen, and given him a mug of something warm and sweet, and sat down across from him. And had let him cry, only interrupting to assure him that he was not in trouble and to hand him a tissue.

Yes, Whumpee liked many things about Caretaker. Their heart most of all.

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #whump writing #lil Drabble #conditioned whumpee #thinking caretaker is their new whumper #whumpee thinks caretaker is new master #whump prompt #whump scenario #pet whump #also hi #I’m not dead or anything #things are going well #it’s just very busy #and I’m working on a lot of different stuff #but I’m trying to get back on here more

[befuddled-calico-whump]

alone at last // Wildefire Masterlist

can't say if this scene is an AU or not, because I'm still tinkering with where the story goes, but I really wanted to draw it.

After the team breaks a disgraced Uriah out of prison, they end up on the run again. Through an unfortunate turn of events, Uriah and Alexei end up stranded together, and Lex soon finds that while it feels good in the moment, trying to take physical vengeance against Uriah just makes him feel like shit.

Wildefire Tag List:

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , and @turn-the-tables-on-them and @whumpwillow some Uriah whump lol

#wasn't expecting to detail the background but i love a good night scene stars are my fave #cant say lex is in the right but he's definitely justified in being angry and feeling like the whole situation is unfair #feat. uriah in street clothes because hell no they're not going back for the suits/neat casual options #whump art #wildefire #uriah fox #whumper turned whumpee #whumpee turned whumper #villain whump #beating #blood #whumpy art #whump comic

[oddsconvert]

How would Felix react to Josh getting stuck in a coma? (Probably from Felix's punishments)

Ohmy, I LOVE this question!!! 👀😍

Pure panic. He'd be stuck in the the in-between of unadulterated terror and crippling denial.

For a day or so, he'd try and nurse Josh back to health. Felix would be perched by Josh's bedside night and day. Tucking him in, holding his hand and whispering sweet nothings, begging him to wake up. Felix wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat - he'd just watch Josh and try over and over to wake him.

Then desperation would set in. When he realises Josh isn't waking up and that this time, it's deadly serious. He'd call for backup - his goons friends. He'd be left with no option but the hospital, but how could he ever do that? He wouldn't be able to stay with Josh. Eyes would turn to Felix the second he carried Josh in, just skin and bones, littered with bruises and scars. And how could he ever think of abandoning the love of his life?

So, I think either Felix's hubris would get the best of him, and he'd refuse to get Josh medical help and would keep him...no matter what happens. Or maybe he would dump Josh at the hospital, possibly with the intention of snatching him back down the line 👀

#this is SUCH a fun thought #and now I'm imagining Josh waking up in a hospital all alone and so out of it and lost and confused #Felix planning how he's going to get Josh back 😈 #nehehehe #thank you for this ask!!!!!! 🫶🫶💕🫶💕💕💕🫶 #play pretend #josh barlowe oc #felix conner oc #coma #whump #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity #yandere whumper

[whumble-beeee]

The Man in the Sweater Vest

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 7

Content: attempted noncon, threatened mouth whump, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, scissors, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, noncon touch, past captivity references, graphic threats, blood, crapton of whump. As a treat :)

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[Inevitably, there will be disagreements on how you should treat your captured hero. One villain might want to just hold the hero hostage long enough to finish their dastardly plans. Another will want to break the hero’s will entirely! Or anything else in between! 

But when working together with other villains, bounty hunters, henchmen, etc, it is crucial that everyone is on the same page about how your captured hero is to be treated, lest your hero end up with a few less limbs than you meant them too, or your months of breaking down the hero's fragile mind is undone by a single nice gesture.

Always communicate effectively, your hero will thank you for it (or curse the day you were born)!]

* * * * * * * *

Sweater-vest stumbled back, reeling from the punch and clutching his face before pulling his hands down and gawking at the blood staining his hands.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!!” Stan screamed. 

An intense elation washed through his chest despite the surprisingly sharp exploding pain that crackled up the very bones of his arm when he punched the man, and the now freshly ripped open scabs and bruises from where he’d forgotten to account for the handcuffs and yanked on them violently, streaming new ruby red over dried light brown that already carved down his arms; 

Because he'd got him. He'd got him! Punched him, made him back off! Stan did that! He'd finally managed to actually do something about the atrocities being committed against him and it was so, so sweet. 

Relatively short-lived, though. 

Vaughn, the sweater vest man, started to giggle to himself as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose onto his sleeve. Elation gave way to tentative confusion. Then a sinister seed started to take root in Stan's gut, the roots already reaching out and tightening around his body.

“You-...” Vaughn giggled some more. “You– you think–?...”

He started fully laughing, speech overtaken by an apparent hilarity that Stan must’ve just been too shocked by the sudden mood change to understand. He was cackling. Then practically shrieking, crazy, loud, heaving laughs.

He must be crazy. 

Insane. 

Well and truly insane, the way he was shriek laughing into his shining red-stained hands.

His gaze snapped up to Stan, and Stan could practically hear the horror movie crackling effect with how fast it snapped up, crazy maniacal shudders still overtaking his body, piercing gaze turned wide, animalistic.

“You think you can HURT ME?! HURT ME?! AHAHAHAHA!!”

Suddenly Stan slammed into the wall, cuffed wrists pinned above his head, chest to chest with the crazy man and staring up into his crazy bloodshot eyes.

“You can't hurt me,” he growled into Stan’s ear through gritted teeth. ”I don't feel pain. I carved that weakness out a long time ago, my brain doesn’t register it anymore! And I did it so I could deal with horrible little brats like you–” he slammed Stan's wrists into the wall, “--however I see fit! So I could do whatever I wanted to them. So that even if they fight back, they always, always, always lose.”

He pulled back and leaned into Stan's face, staring the captive directly in his glaringly defiant, wide and shining eyes. Hot shaking breaths misted surprisingly minty breath onto Stan’s cheeks, nearly overpowered by the metallic tang of blood that still poured down his face.

“Always submit. Just like you're going to.”

Stan pulled down hard against Vaughn's grasp, struggling and wiggling and tugging and screaming and kicking and doing every single little thing he could to, if not escape, at least make this as difficult as possible.

“Get away from me!" He cried. "GET AWAY FROM ME, get OFF of me, I’m not gonna let you do this you sadist, you can’t do this to me!! LET GO–!”

A punch to the gut. Stan tried to double over and wheezed as much as he could with his arms pinned up, which delivered him right into another punch to the face.

 Then something cool and sharp stabbed into the soft underside of his chin, straining his neck with how far his head pushed back into the wall.

“This is why I like to keep my victims gagged,” Vaughn gritted. “That bounty hunter of yours never does it, no matter how I tell him to. Always has to do stuff his own way, never listens. All he does is talk talk talk, always has a retort for everything. So defiant, and so is every single subject he brings in.”

A dull aching throb emanated from where Stan’s head pressed into the wall. Black spots dotted his vision. 

“You–... y-you can't–”

The scissors pulled back and dove toward Stan's mouth, eliciting a loud cut-off scream of revolt as he cowered and squeezed his eyes shut from some vain, animalistic instinct to protect himself. 

Then he pried open his eyes again, confused when no cutting metallic pain ripped through the fragile flesh of his face.

The handle of the scissors were fuzzy, too close for his eyes to focus.

They weren’t that far into his mouth.

Just enough that if Stan tried to close it, his teeth would clip on the tip of the metal blades instead. 

The scissors lifted slowly, tapping on his top teeth, tilting his head up until he stared into Vaughn’s metallic blue eyes once more.

“I could always prep your throat with these if you like,” he drawled softly, letting go of Stan’s cuff chain and instead lightly grasping his thumb and forefinger under Stan’s chin, forcing his mouth open further. A small sob crackled out from Stan’s throat. 

“It would be so easy… I could just–” 

The scissors lurched further into Stan’s mouth, and Stan let out another involuntary squeak and an open-mouthed, unintelligible pleading of “no, no, no, no…” as tears started to sting at his eyes.

But he let him do it. 

He even still held his arms up, because surely if he tried to fight back now, with the scissors in his mouth quite literally pinning him to the wall… He didn’t even want to think of the consequences.

“Careful, dropje. Wouldn’t want to cut yourself. Be quiet, be still, be good for me, right? You can be good for me? You can finally shut the hell up. No more fighting.”

He let go of Stan's chin and let his hands wander lower, caressing Stan’s sides, the curve of his waist, making his entire body tense and shudder. His breathing turning loud and shallow as he cringed away. 

Vaughn just giggled.

“See? Isn’t this better? You’re not getting hurt, you’re doing what I say…” His fingers slipped under the waistband of Stan’s pants again. Slower this time. More deliberate. 

It took all of Stan's willpower to not start hyperventilating at what he knew was about to happen. He knew. It was always this, wasn’t it?

Vaughn’s voice lowered as he leaned closer, pressing his body into Stan’s. He could feel the fibers of the stupid damn sweater vest against his stomach, deceptively soft, almost pleasant. The hard blade of the scissors tapped on the tip of his nose. “Because you physically have no other–”

BANG!!

Stan screamed. 

Vaughn screamed. 

The ghost of the gunshot echoed off the cinderblock walls. 

Vaughn also nearly fell backward, pushing off of Stan just in time for Stan to fall to the floor in a duck-and-cover position and pray to whatever gods would listen that his last day on earth wouldn't have been spent dealing with two of the worst people he'd ever had the displeasure of being kidnapped by.

Wait, scratch that, his knee reminded him. He'd had worse.

His heart threatened to jump out of his chest completely, but he finally realized that in fact, he was still alive. So he opened his eyes to what he never thought to be one of the most beautiful sights in the world;

Deeby. 

Gun pointed to the sky and streaming a light grey smoke into a small puff of explosion that hadn't had time yet to dissipate. 

“What in the ever-loving SHIT are you doing?!” he shouted.

He was completely maskless, face now on full display, fiery eyes matching his equally fiery sneer. The sudden absence of the mask almost scared Stan more than the gunshot, the sight making his heart beat in his throat.

Then, for just a split second, Deeby's enraged eyes met Stan's stare. His eyes scanned down his body, looking him up and down, his face changing ever so slightly when his gaze caught in Stan’s chest. A slight crinkle of the eyebrows, a small tilt of the head. Then his eyes widened in some sort of realization, and Stan felt his heart turn to ice. 

Recognition.

No. 

He couldn't have realized who he was. 

Just because of the binder?!

Stan choked on his own throat as the collar suddenly constricted once more and he was dragged violently forward to his knees.

“Your fucking dog punched me in the face!” Vaughn shouted, jangling Stan around enough that he had to grab the collar just to gain back his breath.

“Just because–!” 

Vaughn jolted Stan's collar back hard and cut him off with a violent gag.

“I was disciplining him.” Vaughn narrowed his eyes at the mercenary. “Like we're supposed to.” 

Deeby’s jaw set. And still, he managed to find a slight smug smile within his fury. “That why your face is gushing blood, then? Disciplined him too hard?”

Stan didn't even realize when they started, but tears were practically streaming down his cheeks now, chest heaving in panic. “Deeby, Deeby, he was gonna–”

“Shut up!”

A kick this time, straight to the back of his spine, and Stan's throat strained hard into the collar before breaking free of Vaughn's grasp and nearly face-planting into cold concrete. He scrambled to get up, but the same foot planted on his back and slammed his chest right back to the floor, grinding the heel of its shoe into the captive’s spine. Stan clutched at the ground, screams barely bit back by force of sheer willpower.

“Christ, man! Stop it, get off!” Deeby yelled with uncharacteristic urgency.

The force pinning him down suddenly released, followed by the scattered footfalls of someone catching themself from nearly falling over. 

Stan just lay there limp. Heaving and shivering. He couldn't move. His limbs felt like heavyweights, the world tilted on it’s axis, and he was sure that if he lifted his head up, he would lose every last morsel of that protein bar he'd shoved down earlier.

But at least now no one was methodically turning him into a fine red mist anymore. 

Deeby stood between the two of them like an impenetrable stone wall, hand resting on the unlatched holster of his gun and pointedly ignoring Vaughn’s stuttering disbelief as he patted at the pockets of his jacket, pulling various probably very sharp things out and shoving them into his pants pockets.

Protecting him.

“You– You just–...” Vaughn finally composed himself. “You pushed me off! You're saving him? He needs to be taught a lesson!”

Stan tried to push up despite the dizziness. “Only–... D-Deeby, he was trying–”

“Shut up, Stan, I know, let me handle it! Here.” Deeby slid his jacket off and dropped it practically on top of his captive’s head, never once letting his gaze slip from Vaughn. Stan shakily pulled the brown leather of the jacket over his shoulders before he had time to think better of it, doing his best to just enjoy the show and not think about the implications of what was currently happening.

 “Because he wouldn't let you put your dick in him without a fight, right?” The bounty hunter said sarcastically. “Or– or– or because he wasn’t gonna let you mouth-gore him without complaint? Let you ‘teach him a lesson?’ Yeah, I am stopping you. Piece of shit.” The bounty hunter grabbed the scissors off the floor where they landed when Vaughn dropped them after the gunshot. Then he used them to point sharply at the door. 

“Get out.”

Vaughn scoffed and melodramatically rolled his eyes.

“You got the message from Lana then? Is that why you're acting like such a belligerent wittle babeee?” Vaughn posited in his most obnoxious baby voice.

Deeby bristled. Stan could've sworn for a moment he could see the man shaking. 

“Yes,” he said, slowly. “I talked to Lana. Your useless job is done. You can go back to being an even more useless sidepiece now.”

Vaughn’s shoulders tensed, and he laughed.

“Good! And I’ll make sure to tell Lana all about you taking the side of the disobedient dog of a test subject–”

“Yeah, go cry to your girlfriend about it, he's under my jurisdiction and I'm not gonna let you fuck that up because you feel the need to live out your perverse power fantasy with the helpless people you kidnap and torture. As if it isn’t torture enough to have to be in the same room with you at all.”

Vaughn clenched his fists at his side and forced on the worst imitation of a smile Stan had ever borne witness to.

“You better watch your tone, Deathberry,” he said, sickly sweet voice doing nothing to mask the hissing rage. “I could have you in the same spot as him in ten seconds. Don't ever–” he jabbed Deeby in the chest. “–forget that. You're only allowed to be out here roaming around with your fancy gun and your fancy cowboy boots because you're useful, otherwise you'd be locked up with the rest–”

Vaughn had just started to reach for the holster on Deeby's belt when, faster than Stan could perceive, a flurry of movement between the two men, a cry of surprised fear, the shuffling of feet and spinning of bodies and suddenly Vaughn was pinned back first to Deeby's chest, a wire that Deeby pulled from somewhere stretched taut between his fists and pressing a hard line directly under into the skin of Vaughn's throat.

Vaughn's hands quickly flew up to the wire to try and pull it off his throat, then just as quickly let go when he realized the wire would sooner cut through his hands before it would be pried off.

Stan couldn't help but stare.

“You're just about at the end of my rope, Verhulst,” Deeby growled, accent fully presiding now as he stepped backward and pulled Vaughn toward the door. “Don't you ever put your filthy hands on my gun.”

A slight rasp to Vaughn's voice was the only thing that denoted anything was amiss. “You sure this is about the gun, Deebs? Sure you're not taking your frustrations at Lana out on me?” 

“Trust me, if I was takin’ my frustrations at Lana out on you, bud, you'd be dead.”

Vaughn's eyes shot to Stan, and his smile broadened. 

“Ohhhh, I see. So what then, you are falling for the captive? I'm sure Lana would love to hear about how you're going soft, how you miss her, and how spectacularly you're failing at finding someone better so you have to–”

A small gurk finding its way from Vaughn's throat as he was pulled to a sudden stop.

“You know what, maybe I am. And maybe you should use your mouth to do something not completely useless for once.” He spun the both of them around to face Stan again. 

“Apologize to ‘im.”

What?

Vaughn stared at Stan, apparently more stunned by the notion of apologizing than the motion of having a garot wire to his throat. Stan… honestly had to agree.

“Come again?”

“Apologize to Stan. For tryin’ to rape him. It's the least you could do.”

“You want me to… apologize?? To the test subject? You really are losing it, Deathberry, let me go.”

The wire dug into his throat more. “Say sorry, doctor.”

Vaughn glared at Stan. Stan glared back as well as he could.

“I can't feel the pain of this, you know,” Vaughn's voice came, even raspier. “You're not doing anything.”

“You can still bleed out from a slit throat. Still drown to death in your own blood as it slowly fills your lungs,” Deeby dismissed lightly. “Still bleed out. Very quickly. I wonder what would happen if I hit your carotid–

“And I wonder how Lana would feel about you slitting her head scientist and boyfriend’s throat.”

“Probably call you a little bitch boy for invoking her name every time you need to defend yourself like a spoiled toddler ‘steada bein’ a man about it and defending yourself. Or maybe not. You’d never know, you’d be dead.”

“You wouldn't–”

Deeby twitched the wire across Vaughn's throat and a line of red bloomed across the light tan of his neck. Vaughn's face grew just a little bit paler. He brought his hands up to graze across the wire and felt the warm wetness smear across his fingertips.

“Apologize.” Deeby growled. “Now.”

Vaughn's eyes flitted back to Stan, fully appraising the wonderfully wide-eyed mess he'd had pinned against the wall only moments before. 

He narrowed his eyes. 

Took a deep breath. 

Stared daggers directly into Stan's soul.

“Sorry.”

Oh you bastard.

“Go jump off a cliff!” Stan yelled, erratically reaching into the jacket pocket he'd seen Deeby pull the protein bar out of earlier and luckily finding many more, one of which was immediately thrown directly at Vaughn. He couldn't even attempt to dodge it, and it hit him directly in the chest. 

The mercenary let out a singular loud laugh and spun Vaughn back around, letting the wire retract into what Stan now realized was a little housing box on his weird arm sleeve thing and shoving Vaughn at the door as hard as he could.

“Guess he doesn't forgive you. Better luck next time!” he laughed. Stan genuinely thought (and hoped) Sweater-vest would fall flat on his face, but he managed to grab the door and right himself before that happened. Shame.

“Now get out.” Deeby said.

Vaughn glared with a literal snarl, jaw half a second away from cracking in two. Right before he took a slow, deep breath and reset his features to a forced neutral. Then an easy smile. “As you wish, my liege.” 

He bowed exaggeratedly low in a show of mock respect, retrieving his scissors from the ground in a surprisingly graceful sweeping motion as he went. Deeby just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and Stanny?” He drawled, peeking back from the door as he left and pointing his scissors directly at Stan's face with a flourish. “I look forward to seeing you soon~.” 

“Get outta here!” Deeby yelled with a threatening stomp toward the door, at the same time Stan stuttered out a very surprised and agitated “In hell!”

The door slammed shut. 

Stan could swear he could still hear Vaughn's deranged laugh echoing through the room even as an eerie silence fell over them.

He was finally gone. Finally.

See you soon.

He didn't completely understand why his breath continued to quicken. He'd won that encounter, right? Or… well, Deeby had. But still.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

He felt dizzy. More than the concussion could have caused. This was different, made him feel like he was suffocating, even though Vaughn was no longer here to strain the collar against his throat. Yet he could still feel the knuckles digging into the back of his neck.

I look forward to seeing you soon. In hell.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything | @paperprinxe

#whump #heroes and villains #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #captivity whump #trans whumpee #disabled whumpee #(un)official guide #attempted noncon #noncon undressing #IT'S BACK BABYYYY #GAH I've been so excited to post this #I missed this so much #extra long and extra whumpy for all your waiting #whos idea was it to let me go on an accidental month long hiatus #WHO WAS IT #anyway I'm going into tech week irl for the musical i'm in #so I might not get to the next chapter next weekend #I'll definitely try to tho #I genuinely missed writing and posting this story too. I've got so much more of it to tell #anyway I hope you like this chapter it was a bitch to wring it out of me but I did it #and its glorious #Also vaughn is such a cringefail I love him so much #and we've got some secret hidden Deeby lore sprinkled in there! #making this like an easter egg hunt #did you find it?

[a-whumped-tea]

Whumpee, after trying for so long to gain Whumper's trust finally has it. Or at least some of it.

It's all going so well, things are so much better now.

Until Whumper walks in on what looks like an escape attempt.

#Whumpee falling to the floor #gripping locks of their hair in anguish and anger as the security system of the house goes off #They just ruined their only chance at trust with Whumper #It's all going to go back to the way it was #Whumper's not going to believe that they weren't trying to escape. #They fucked up #anyways #I live #a whumped tea #whump writing #whumpee #whump #whump community #whump scenario #whump prompt #whump ideas #whumper #captivity whump #whump idea #writing prompt #i forgot how to tag lol

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

The Whumper knows exactly where Whumpee is hiding, but they pretend they have no idea.

The thrill of the chase is half the fun, to catch Whumpee scrambling from one place to another out of the corner of their eye, to see the traces left behind in the form of open vents and bloody smears that create the perfect path to them. Whumper always makes sure to linger just in front of where they've tucked themself away, calling out to them, checking every nook and cranny except the one they know contains Whumpee.

And as soon as they leave, as soon as Whumpee dashes out of the compromised room for a new hiding spot, the hunt is on again to be as prolonged as Whumper desires.

#like i dont think you understand how much i love chase/hiding sequences #i go feral for them every time and ESPECIALLY when its just a game to the whumper #who's cooing to whumpee all the while and trying to entice them to come out on their own #the game only ends when whumper gets bored and needs to put whumpee away again #suddenly slamming their hand on the other side of the glass #yanking open the door #crouching in front of the cupboard #ripping back the curtain #all with a condescending grin and a taunting 'i found you~' #[chefs kiss] #love this in g/t fearplay as well that shit is top tier

[baughtio]

Falling into Honey

tw: violence, eye injury, implied suicidal thoughts, creepy whumper

Whumpee lay on the floor. Through the foggy mush of their mind they could hear the Hero thrashing about, pleading under those black polished shoes. The shoes glimmered in and out of focus like the blade of a knife swinging tauntingly before their ripped eye socket. Who knows what Whumper was doing to them.

By the time Whumpee had propped themselves up to a sitting position, Whumper had already left. It'd been a peaceful day, just lying about for hours with their back on the cold floor, rusted with their blood. The long gash on their torso still dripping with blood was their perfect excuse for not being a well-functioning adult who contributes to society. If only they could slide down a little more into the dark bliss of pet life; if only Whumper would pull hard enough on the chains around their neck, then nobody could blame them for falling even deeper into a selfless state...

"Go away..."

Whumpee opened their remaining eye at the sound of the Hero mumbling to themselves. Despite their gooey vision, they could feel the Hero glaring intently at the basement door. They still had both of their eyes which were glowing a brilliant gold. Pulling vivaciously against the heavy chains, they seemed to be taking a stand, as if the light in their eyes alone would burn this institution down. Whumpee gazed at the Hero, holding their breath as the gold jumped into their eye and flickered against their grey pupils.

"Die."

"Die..." wheezed the Hero.

Then they collapsed into fitful of wet coughs and the chains easily brought the Hero bowing on their knees. Whumpee blinked as the gold disappeared from their eyes. They'd turned back into the two puddles of honey which Whumper loved to let spill and feast from.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Click. Four cartridges left.

Whumpee bit their lips as they saw the bullet rip into the Hero's shoulder. The scalding metal crunched the bones above their palpitating heart.

"You take it very well honey."

Hero let out an agonising groan.

"It's honestly a bummer," said Whumper as he stroked the revolver, "that it fired when we were still on the second round. I wanted to build a bit more tension..."

Hero tried supporting their broken shoulder with their right arm, but the chains just dug deeper into the wound.

"...because it's fun seeing you scared like this. You know what? I'm going to get another one of these toys and let Whumpee over here pull the trigger for me."

Whumper threw the empty revolver at Whumpee's head.

"If you don't Whumpee, I'll drop you off at the company. And what will they do with a useless body that can't even speak, huh?"

And just like that, Whumper twirled around and left Whumpee stealing concerned glances at the whimpering mess of Hero. Whumpee wanted to comfort Hero, but even a broken Hero might not want to associate with them. They thanked the chains for making the choice to do nothing for them. They despised themselves for it.

"Die..."

It was Hero's voice again.

"Die..."

Whumpee closed their eye this time. Maybe Hero was telling them to die and that could come true if they kept lying in the pool of their own blood.

"... kill... "

How long had it been since the dreams of those sleepless nights had become their reality? Once dreams are fulfilled, the night becomes void.

"Go kill..."

Whumpee sat in the shadows of a beach. The empty revolver lay with them. Before them was the sea in its golden hour, dark waves flapping beneath an incandescent surface. They couldn't tell if the sun peering just above the horizon was rising or setting. When they blinked it blinked with them, and just for a moment, Whumpee felt like falling into its golden embrace.

#whump #multiple whumpees #exhausted whumpee #intimate whumper #captive whumpee #conditioned whumpee #I don't know where I'm going with this #but it's longer than I thought it'd be #complacent whumpee #pet whump #maybe I should think of a back story

[whatiswhump]

I just love insanity whump so much because there are two EXCEPTIONAL options to start with:

There are whumpers who can take advantage of the situation, maybe even mAke someone ill or brainwashed, but there's also underlying mental illness, and its just so tragic and messed up...

And in this.. the whumpee's worst enemy can just be themselves.

#MAYBE a mix of both >:) #mental illness #psychiatric whump #psych whump #whump #emotional whump #I love when even the whumper realizes that what the whumpee is doing to themselves is worse than what they could dream up #maybe they smirk and siit back and watch #maybe theyre worried #maybe the whumper had plans to brainwash them unaware that kidnapping them and taking them off their meds would make them go haywire anyway #so many possibilties

[obsessedwithegos]

Regardless of who held them, one of two notions stayed the same. Either their wings were to be left undamaged or they were threatened to be removed to keep them in line.

Their wing instinctively tries to flutter as they grab onto it. They no longer hesitate digging their nails into the membrane, ripping through it and the veins within with ease.

The bulk of their wings were easily to shred, despite the pain pulsating in their back. Though it wasn't enough, they wanted to rip off as much as possible. They didn't want to take a chance of their wings being used against them.

They would never give anyone the chance again.

I'm thinking about Kira directly after they escape Key <3333

general: @emmettnet @blackberry-bloody

kira taglist: @whumpsday

#owe art #my art #kira tag #kira writing tag #<bc it has a snippet of writing; one day I'll write the actual escape fic but today is not that day <3 /lh #whump #whump tag #whump art #wing whump #fairy whumpee #fairy whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #<bc kira is a vampiric fairy #self harm #burns #<on their wrists. neck. and the earring hole from iron #yall I had so much fucking fun drawing the blood on this <3 easily that's where most of the time spent on this went other than figuring out #the arm posing (though that was still p quick cause i took a reference pic jdfgjhjdhfgjk) #i would tag this as recovery arc but uhhhh Kira never recovers they go back to being a whumper to try to cope

[painonthebrain]

Also, bonus question, does what role the character play affect how you feel about their death or if they were to die? For example, a whumper dying vs a whumpee dying or a caretaker dying

#tw death #cw death #death #whump poll #idk im just curious #personally for me it depends #ive been experimenting with whump concepts in my head that involve death #like zombies immortals who die and ressurect themselves #stuff like that #‘came back wrong’ trope etc #of course it still depends to me like. certain ways it plays out are fine but others go outside of my comfort zone #like i was reading a pretty gory whumper turned whumpee fic #and im not saying its bad it was pretty good #just not for me personally #i think it was called red room? or smth like that #the whumpee was torturing their whumper #and then at the end they killed them #i dont remember the names or pronouns bc it squicked me out a little so i think i forgot about it #im not sure how i feel about permanent death in whump fics #like sure ive got zombies and people who can ressurect or vampires who can heal #but i dont think i like to read about humans dying? #idk idk

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Wildefire: The Worst Thing

cw: discussed/referenced prison whump and abuse; manipulative whumper, bluntly discussed noncon

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

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"What's the worst thing they did to you, Alexei?" Uriah was standing behind him, unwelcome hands light on his shoulders. The muscle there still ached from his most recent punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lex's answer was automatic. Flat words with no emotion behind them; flat hope that Uriah would let him walk away from this conversation.

"Of course you do," Uriah pressed, amusement in his voice. "You spent a year in the Tower. I want to hear about it. I want to know what you're so afraid of."

"Why?" 

"When I ask you a question, I want an answer without having to explain myself."

Lex grit his teeth. "Why?" he repeated. He already knew the answer. Because I want to use it against you. Because I can.

Uriah clicked his tongue. "You won't like my answer," he said. "Or maybe you will. I think sending you back is too dramatic for a first offense, so I want something else. Something I can do to you when you step out of line."

(Brine, mine, spine.)

Of course Fox had the audacity to ask him to name this future punishment. Because why else would he bring it up, if he wasn't planning on using it? Lately it seemed like he'd been watching Lex like a hawk. Waiting for a slip up. A mistake. Defiance that was a shade too dark.

Uriah gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Alexei? I'm waiting."

"Beatings," he muttered, hoping it would be enough, knowing it wouldn't. 

Sure enough, Uriah didn't relinquish his grip, instead giving a squeeze and letting out a short chuckle. "Really? Is that what you're so afraid of? Is that what's keeping you behaving? You're afraid to take a beating?" He leaned in. "You come back from half your assignments black and blue and unbothered. Tell me the truth."

(Booth, forsooth, uncouth.)

The truth. What the fuck was he supposed to say? There were worse days than others, there were worst days, but there was nothing about the Tower itself that could be replicated in a single punishment. It was the tiny, dark, empty cell. It was the guards, who could barge in at any fucking hour and do whatever they wanted to him. It was the uncertainty brought on by each day, not knowing if he was destined for a beating or a showing or being hauled blindfolded down the stairs to be abandoned with a rich stranger. It was the damned silence.

"Rentals," he tried again. It was close. It was vague. It was enough that Uriah could fill in the blanks and take his own fucking pick without dragging Lex into it.

"Rentals, hm?" Uriah said. "I know the program well."

No shocker there. Lex wouldn't be surprised if Uriah was one of the many shareholders who got a cut of Rentals' profits.

"What did you hate about Rentals then?"

"Blindfold," Lex answered shortly. (Cold, sold.)

"Only that? I suppose I understand it, but it's hardly enough to act as a behavioral deterrent." His mouth was millimeters from Lex's ear now, words hot on his skin, insistent. "And I don't believe you. Tell me."

Lex inhaled, hating the way his breath shook. He could lie. He could find something easier and hope Uriah took the bait, but deep down he knew it would never be enough.

"I think you know," he said hoarsely. "I think you already know. You just want me to fucking say it."

He swore he could feel the smile that crept across Uriah's face. "Maybe I do."

Lex swallowed. He felt like a statue, hard and frozen, muscles so tightly coiled he might explode. And that was exactly what Uriah wanted. Something he could punish. Because he liked the rush that came from flaunting his power over Lex, or because of pure sadism. It didn't matter. He wouldn't give the other man the satisfaction.

"They touched me," he spat. "Held me down when I couldn't fucking fight back." (Crack, hack, lack, track, smack.)

Uriah was silent, breath in his ear, hands still firm on his shoulders. Waiting for him to continue.

"I was whipped and then raped," Lex finally said, and even just the word felt like a razorblade on his tongue. That was what Uriah wanted. To force him to acknowledge it, to remember it, to understand what the threat was. To prove that he held all the power, even in conversation.

"And that was the worst thing?" Fox murmured, though satisfaction was plain in his voice.

"What do you think?"

A hand slid down his back and lifted his shirt. Lex tensed, but Uriah only hmmd.

"I don't see any scars."

"They had to bring in a healer. Thought I wasn't gonna make it. Don't know why they bothered."

At last, he felt Fox pull away from him, cool air on his back in the man's absence.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" Uriah was beside him now, taking slow steps until he and Lex were face to face. And then he stood there. Two feet away. Pristine suit and tie, hands clasped casually behind his back, eyes bright and malicious. The pressure building in Lex's chest, the fear he was trying to ignore, had built into something heavy that pounded against the inside of his skull.

"Well. There you have it. Push your luck too far, and I won't send you back to the Tower. Not the first time." He reached out, curling a finger under Lex's chin, and it took everything he had to not recoil at the touch.

"But I don't want you thinking I'm afraid to go as far as they did if you ever defy me again."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

tag list:

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes

#uriah is fun to write because of how horrible he is #the most violent he's personally been with lex is just a slap but he can order someone else to do it just like *that* #and the threat of going back is enough to manipulate lex into pretty much anything #and he thoroughly enjoys every bit of power he has #ill probably let lex kill him someday #as a treat #wildefire #alexei wilder #whump writing #assassin whumpee #tw manipulation #creepy whumper #tw noncon mention #prison whump #heroes and villains #noncon touching

[echo-goes-mmm]

We don't have enough vampire caretakers in whump

Think of the possibilities! Sure they may or may not feed off of whumpee, but that's a very small price to pay for safety in a thoroughly hurt whumpee's mind

Vampire Caretakers can tell with a taste or even smell that whumpee needs more calcium or iron in their diet

Vampire Caretakers can use their Charm ability to help soothe whumpee

Vampire Caretakers who have all the time in the world with many resources to make whumpee as comfortable as possible

Vampire Caretakers that no whumper would Dare cross bc Caretaker could CRUSH them

Vampire caretakers Will Kill for their whumpee and god help Whumper when Vampire Caretaker gets ahold of them

Idk I wanna see a person capable of great harm being the kindest, gentlest person in a whumpees life

And maybe Vampire Caretaker has been lonely for far too long and now? A Friend! And they Will Love and Cherish their new companion damnit

#whump #especially if whumper is human #like imagine if you (whumper) somehow lost whumpee and you track them down and HOLY SHIT THATS A VAMPIRE #how the fuck would you get whumpee back?? your only hope is to convince the vampire to share #surely a vampire would have fun with whumpee just like you did right? #BUT NOPE OH MY GOD THE VAMPIRE IS IN LOVE WITH WHUMPEE SHIT SHIT SHIT #also tfw you (whumpee) stumble into a seemingly abandoned gothic castle to hide from whumper #and then you stumble upon a friggin vampire #like youre bleeding already and totally done for right? this is your new hell or you are going to die right now #but. the vampire cocks their head at you. and leads you to a very cozy drawing room (with a roaring fire and /very/ comfy couches) #and yup. new whumper. #but then the vampire guides you to lie down and gently wipes away the blood off your back #they bandage you up #and suddenly you feel relaxed for the first time in years #and oh. this is nice. you decide to stay #its the best decision of your life #my stuff

[charcoalsketches]

A scene from my Whumpuary Series found here

Cw: guns

#ignore how I can’t draw hands. like at all. #I was going to color this but I got lazy #I might go back in and add a lil shading just to give it dimension or smth #whump #whump community #whumpblr #whump art #my art #it’s me coal #coal drew something #whump sketch #whumpee #whumper #spy whump #gun whump #whump blog #whump prompt #whump prompts #I used like twenty different references from Pinterest to get the bodies and faces and hair right #hhhhhh #whumpuary

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

Thank you to the lovely people who sent me asks for this ask game <2 but tumblr decided to suck so I gotta put my answers here

@emcscared-whumps @another-whump-sideblog

3. What are your favorite tropes?

I could talk about this for days omgggg

I think my favorite trope of all time has to be whumper turned whumpee/villain whump. If there is a guy in a story who hurts people and then gets hurt I am pretty much guaranteed to love it!!!

It adds a lot of flavor to stories I think. Complicates the usual whump dynamic especially. There are so many interesting things you can do with it!!! How does the whumpee react? Do they treat the whumperee with compassion despite how much they were hurt by them? Do they treat the whumperee with (honestly justified sometimes) scorn? Maybe they’re the whumperee’s whumper!!!

And the caretaker stuff too,,, Idk man it hits different when a characters who isn’t like a paragon or even just good most of the time gets a little comfort for the suffering they go through. (A consequence of my former self loathing, I think.) And there’s so much potential for reluctant caretakers!!!

And okay I love whumperees who get a redemption arc, I will always read stories where that happens, but I love love love it when the whumperee just gets worse. After all people improve despite trauma, not because of it. There is something very fun about a character who has been hurt immensely and decides to lash out at everyone. And I think my favorite types of characters are the ones that are miserable and choose to do bad things, and really they could improve but they don’t, they get worse, and it’s just such a lovely tragedy. I have many of those types of characters.

Um this is actually really long. I did not expect that. I will simply list my other fave tropes:

Immortal whumpees

Whumpee thinking caretaker is new whumper

When the whumpee is really scared of something happening but it turns out it was never gonna happen in the first place

Solitary confinement

Captivity whump

Starvation

Electrocution/shock collars

Whipping

Gore and cannibalism

4. What are your least favorite tropes?

Ummm this is kinda hard to say! Mostly cuz I don’t really have any tropes I particularly dislike? I guess tiny whump just doesn’t hit a vibe for me. I don’t always enjoy eye whump either. I can’t really list much! I mostly encounter tropes I enjoy or am neutral about!

7. Favorite whump writers?

THERE ARE SO MANY and this is only off the top of my head, so I’m probably missing a lot of people!!

@a-crumb-of-whump

@befuddled-calico-whump (and @whumpflash)

@blackrosesandwhump

@brutal-nemesis

@hopepetal

@hurting-fictional-people

@oddsconvert

@painsandconfusion

@purple-heart-x

@secretwhumplair

@turnthetablesonthem

@whump-a-la-mode

@whumper-dumps

@whumpering-heights

@whump-queen

@whumpsday

@whumpwillow

@whumpy-arts-and-crafts

@whumpzone

#kira talks #whump #whumper turned whumpee #I could go on such a tangent for each of my favorite tropes but I must hold myself back for the sake of brevity #thank you guys for the asks btw!! sorry tumblr was being stinky

[cepheusgalaxy]

I had an idea for a story a few hours ago:

(Bbu setting.) Carewhumper is a Pet Owner, who had a stable income and thus could afford one, Whumpee. Onde day, they lose most of their money and are thrown in misery. Almost nowhere to go, no food, no money, just their loyal Pet who is the only thing that they own now, and they can't bring themselves to sell.

The story would be relatively short, with the Owner and Whumpee trying to find food for Owner and Whumpee servicing them loyaly, struggling to survive. In the end, however, Owner doesn't manage to survive and the only one left in Whumpee.

End :D

#the vibes i have for this are a little different than what i usually go for #itd be really really shorter #and their relationship and the two main characters would be the only things with room for exposition and development me thinks #the tone is very different too #but i really really liked this idea #i has the idea because of two things: #i was imagining how much money one would have to have in order to afford a pet in the bbu #and that theyd probably sell them as soon as their budget was to short and they needed more money #but then i remembered a post i saw a while ago #op was talking about “oh if theyre so POOR then why don't they just sell their stuff?” #and they were talking about how poor people deserve nice things. even if its an expensive nice thing #and then i was like: “what IF whumper didnt sell whumpee but kept them with their few belongings #because despiste not having the same money anymore they want nice things“ #and then i also remembered a very very weird anime i saw once with a very semisweet ending i suppose? #one if the main characters died and the other (they were supposed to be “bonded forever” although their relationship was pretty doubious) #survived and went back to her previous life. and then i decided to go with this tone #i dont know if ill write it #but i really really like it #so have it! #whump prompts #whump prompt #story ideas #whump ideas #whump scenario #bbu whump #pet whump #pet whumpee #whumper #carewhumper #box boy

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

Whumper has become ill. Horrifically ill. It started off small enough to just make them a little more irritable than usual, but quickly it spread to having half the strength to throw a punch to completely collapsing from fever in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee has two options at this point: To help Whumper, or to leave them to suffer

Helping Whumper would mean having them regain their strength back in half the time. They would be totally at Whumpee's mercy, depending on them for any kind of care that might shorten the duration of this awful sickness. Even if it would only last a couple weeks, it was tempting to be the one in full control. But anything Whumpee did to them while they were sick would be given back ten times worse once Whumper's body naturally cured itself. So maybe...if they're really nice and caring...would Whumper break out of this fever dream to see the error of their ways? Or would they mock Whumpee for having missed their chance for revenge and escape?

Leaving Whumper behind seemed like the obvious choice, or was it? They had no idea where they were, no idea if they could even escape out of this one room. Whumper had taken "care" of them for so long that they weren't sure they'd be able to function without them, at least not in this prison that Whumper knew the ins and outs of while Whumpee was only familiar with one room. To let Whumper suffer through the fits of illness for weeks sounded blissful, yet...did that make Whumpee any better than them? To enjoy someone else's pain? Sure, it was well deserved, but can Whumpee handle that kind of guilt of not helping someone in need?

It was all really going to boil down to how Whumper felt once they were no longer bedridden and could resume their usual duties

#whump #whump community #whump stuff #whump ideas #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #whumper turned whumpee #whumpee turned whumper #whumpee turned caretaker #whump tropes #whumpblr #whump prompt #sickfic #illness #carewhumper #i love prompts like this that have so many things to take into consideration and so many branches #should whumpee be nice and have it thrown back in their face #should whumpee take advantage and be the cruel one #would whumper start going easy on whumpee after theyve healed up #so many options