#intimate whumper cw

[redd956]

Characters Holding Each Other In Whump

This is my demand to see more characters holding each other in whump, but also my opportunity to go on about characters holding each other in whump.

I need more of it, it's so warm, and great when it's characters dependent and safe to one another. Or it's creepy and harrowing when it's between whumper and anything.

I need more of

Caretaker finally reaching whumpee, and pulling them to their chest. Now that they are within each other's arms Caretaker is not letting go.

Multiple whumpees who cannot see each other directly, but hear their voices and reach their hands just far enough to feel each other's touch. Maybe they're reaching out between cell bars, perhaps there's a hole in the walls of an enclosure, or an open slot to a lab. Either way, they've found a hand to hold.

A distraught whumpee crawling over to their only friend, and waiting to be pulled into someone's lap.

When a known threat (whumper) approaches and a protective character pulls another into their grasp to shield them.

Two shivering characters latched onto each other, removing as much space between themselves as possible. After all, what if someone separates them again?

Whumper holding whumpee from behind, swaying them back and forth, listening to the subtle sounds of fright.

Two words: Bridal Carry. Whumpee nuzzling their face into caretaker's chest for bonus points. For extra bonus points, latching onto to caretaker's clothing despite being carried.

Whumpee trying to escape from a whumper they've pummeled thoroughly, only for the half-conscious whumper to grab whumpee one last time. Is it a pleading? A don't go? Or just a final act of terror?

Caretaker sitting on the bed next to a whumpee, and bringing them into their grasp as they whimper.

#caretaker #caretaking #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whump prompt list #whump drabble #whump things #hurt/comfort #whump ideas #whump prompts #whump stuff #cw captivity #cw violence #creepy whumper #intimate caretaker #intimate whumper

[whumperful]

More creepy/intimate whumper things

Part 1 can be found here! Happy Valentine's Day!

Cleaning Whumpee while they're tied up in bath

Playing with Whumpee's hair before roughly pulling it

Nuzzling Whumpee or possesively putting an arm around them while they're in public

Groping Whumpee in public

Holding Whumpee's face to examine them

Forcefully kissing Whumpee and biting their lip until it bleeds

Calling Whumpee pet names and refusing to use their actual name

Forcing Whumpee to undress Whumper

Making Whumpee sleep in the same bed as Whumper (tied up or not)

Forcing Whumpee to pretend they're in a romantic relationship with Whumper (in front of Caretaker)

Touching/kissing Whumpee while they sleep

Hand-feeding Whumpee

Whumper forcing their fingers into Whumpee's mouth

Whumper filming/taking pictures of Whumpee while they're in a compromised position

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #noncon touching cw #noncon kissing cw

[kabie-whump]

Hi! I started following you recently and I LOVE your writing!!! May I make a request? I'd love to see your take on a yandere vampire whumper keeping a darling human whumpee in captivity. Maybe they see Whumpee as both a bloodbag and a companion/pet?

Only if you want to!!

Thanks so much! I'm sorry this took so long but I finally found time to come back to this! All hail spring break!

Content: hypnosis, ex-vampire hunter whumpee, pet/bloodbag whumpee, intimate whumper, vampire whumper, memory loss, gaslighting

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

"Is there someone outside?"

Surprised, Whumper glances down at Whumpee, who blinks groggily as they wake. They usually stay out for longer after Whumper feeds on them. Maybe the noise woke them.

Whumper runs their fingers through Whumpee's hair. "Yes, darling. Someone's trying to take you away from me again. But don't worry - my hounds are taking care of it."

There's a distant, muffled scream. Whumpee flinches, their eyes going wide as they sit up. They'd left a dark patch of drool in the fabric of Whumper's pants, but Whumper doesn't mind at all.

"Wait... I know that voice. Who's out there?"

Whumper acts quickly, grabbing Whumpee's face and turning them to force eye contact. They can't let their most treasured companion remember that those humans used to be their friends; that Whumpee used to be a vampire hunter along with them.

"No one important," Whumper insists, pouring a sprinkle of magic into their words. "They're bad people. They want to take you away and hurt you."

It's always so cute to watch the effects of the hypnosis weigh Whumpee down, relaxing their anxious mind. Their pupils dilate until the color of Whumpee's eyes shows in only barely visible rings. Their breathing slows down. Their shoulders slump.

"'Kay," Whumpee whispers. "Sorry. I... got confused."

Whumper presses a kiss to their forehead. "It's alright, pet. I'll take care of everything. No need to worry. No need to even think."

Whumpee nods sleepily, allowing Whumper to pick up their wrist and examine the fresh bite mark. It's already scabbing over nicely. Whumper doesn't like biting their wrists, but their neck is so covered in marks now that they'll have to wait for some of those bites to heal before they can make more.

"Does it hurt?" Whumper asks as they kiss right next to the wound.

Whumpee shrugs, then nods. "A little," they admit. "I'm dizzy."

"Aw, I'm so sorry. You know I hate having to hurt you, don't you?"

"You'll die otherwise, right?" Whumpee asks hopefully. "You need me?"

"Yes. I need you to keep me alive, and you need me to keep you calm. You're much better off as my companion than you were before."

Whumpee's brow creases. "What was I before? I don't remember."

Whumper hums, pulling Whumpee into a gentle hug. "No one at all, dearest." Definitely not one of the city's most renouned vampire hunters, they think with a smirk. "No one at all."

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

#whump #whump community #whump tropes #whump writing #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump ideas #whumpee #vampire whump #intimate whumper #hypnosis whump #brainwashing #cw blood #pet whumpee #bloodbag whumpee #vampire whumper #whump ask

[goat-boy-sounds]

sorry but a whumpee who's literally backed into a corner... and it wasn't even whumper who put them there...

in their terror, whumpee drifts there all by themselves, sinking to the floor as they curl up with their hands on their head. cowering. shielding their vital areas... instinctually showing how much of a non-threat they are...

whumper silently walks over and crouches in front of them, ready with the handcuffs/knife/noose/what-have-you... and isn't until whumper is too close to let them move, feeling the ghost of whumper's body heat trapping them, that whumpee realizes how royally they've screwed themselves in this position

#whump #whump prompt #cw knife #intimate whumper #have y'all ever gotten cornered while having a panic attack #it sucks

[whumptea]

tw: drugging

a defiant whumpee trying to claw at whumper’s arms in protest as their body reacts to the sedative that was just injected into them. they can only muster aggravated, painful groans and whimpers as whumper cards a hand through their hair.

“shh, my love… don’t fight it,” they whisper, guiding their captive to lay back down.

#whump blog #whump #drugging cw #noncon drugging #whumpee #whumper #whump community #whump prompt #whump writing #kidnap whump #captive whumpee #whump scenario #creepy whumper #whump scenes #whump ideas #intimate whumper #whump dialogue #whump tropes #whump things #//ryns prompts

[whumpanini]

"I know it hurts, I know. You can take it. That's a good whumpee. Good job, shhhh."

#this has been in my head all morning #whump #whump prompt #whumpee #whumpblr #whump writing #whump blog #whump dialogue #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #cw: implied torture

[galaxywhump]

Prompt: Wren doing something that's blatantly stupid/suicidal (like going out into the jungle to pick fights with the wildlife) when he becomes apathetic about his own life, and Daniel's reaction to that?

[SV-240 masterlist]

Thank you for the prompt, anon! Sorry it's so late, it's been in the making for a while now and I finally got the motivation to finish it.

Warning: this is a rather heavy one; it's also not canon.

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, suicide attempt (nothing graphic), depression, restraints, comforted by whumper.

~~~

Wren leaves the house without Daniel’s knowledge.

He still has the tracker, of course, but when he left, Daniel was napping, so hopefully he won’t wake up for a few more hours. Wren just wants to go for a swim in the picturesque pond he remembers the path to. He’s unarmed, without so much as a kitchen knife, but he’s not scared. He’s not anything.

There is an emptiness inside of him that has had a grip on him for several weeks now. It’s the sort of hopelessness he’s been trying so hard to avoid, but instead of making him Daniel’s loving partner, it’s only making him… do this. Go for a walk in the jungle, looking straight ahead, not scanning his surroundings, barely flinching when he hears rustling and other sounds of the dense forest.

He’s had these thoughts a few times before, but now he’s decided to follow them. Not directly, even though he knows there are several options inside the house; instead, he lets fate decide, since it seems to control his life anyway. So he goes for a swim. If fate decides he should stay underwater, he won’t fight it, nor will he fight if it decides not to let him reach the pond at all.

He’s clothed, and yet feels so exposed, a puny human in a jungle full of animals he knows nothing about, having only met one, which tried to kill him. Maybe there are others like it. Maybe one is already stalking him.

Keep walking, not running, walking with calm emptiness. Get away from Daniel’s house, leave his life on the jungle’s mercy. He frowns when he feels a small pang of regret. He should turn back. He should live. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? He’s far enough that the way back would be anything but safe, and he doesn’t want Daniel to question him once he returns. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, and keeps walking.

There are noises all around him.

There’s a noise somewhere behind him.

Soft steps, a low growl. He’s being stalked.

He closes his eyes.

And then there’s a familiar man-made sound, cracking bolts of plasma piercing the air; one followed by the sound of the animal fleeing, one hitting a tree just a few centimeters left of Wren, making him jolt in place.

“Hi there,” he hears Daniel’s voice, almost playful. He swallows and slowly turns around to face his captor, who’s standing still with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

“You missed,” Wren says, lifting his chin, though there is nothing more to his defiance, no spark in his eyes.

“If I wanted to shoot you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” There is no affection in Daniel’s voice, and Wren prefers it this way. “Have you forgotten about your tracker?”

“No.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“What was even your plan?”

“I went for a walk,” Wren explains, looking him straight in the eye; his expression remains empty.

“Good one,” Daniel scoffs. “You know you’d be dead before the day’s over, don’t you?”

“I do.”

The silence that follows is unbearably heavy. Daniel gets it, and for a split second he looks genuinely surprised before going back to his usual unbothered expression.

“Come here. Let’s go home.”

Wren doesn’t break eye contact.

“And if I run?” he asks. “Will you miss again?”

“I’ll shoot, but I won’t kill you. I’ll target your leg, maybe both, and I’ll drag you back. Now come here.”

He does, his head lowered, brow furrowed, mind blank. The jungle around them is bustling with life, never completely quiet, yet the silence between them feels suffocating enough that it could spread over the entire forest, forcing it into stupor. Neither of them says a single word on the way home.

Home. Wren sighs. Home. Daniel’s house is his home now, there’s no denying that. He’s too tired to deny anything anyway, not to mention worry about what Daniel’s going to do to him after his stunt.

They’re still silent when they reach the house and the door closes behind them. Wren follows Daniel to the living room, sits down on the couch, and watches him retrieve two pairs of leather cuffs.

“You’ll have to be restrained more after this, you know that?”

“Yeah.” Wren puts his arms in front, wrists close together, and does the same with his ankles. The cuffs close, a familiar sensation, and he stares down at them, barely feeling anything.

“It’s for your own safety.” Daniel doesn’t crouch down, doesn’t sit next to Wren, still standing in front of him, towering over him.

“Yeah,” Wren repeats, his voice monotone; he only wants this pointless conversation to end, and Daniel can sense it, which doesn’t mean he cares.

“Look at me.”

When he does, Daniel frowns seeing the weary emptiness in his eyes.

“Why did you do it?” he asks, and his accusatory tone makes Wren flinch, like he’s being scolded. It’s the last thing he wants to experience today.

“Take a guess,” he mutters, lowering his gaze, as if even looking up requires too much energy.

Daniel sighs and his frown deepens. He knows the truth, as much as he doesn’t want to accept it.

“I won’t let you do that, Wren.”

“I know. Cause I have nowhere to run, right?” For the first time today, there is something in Wren’s voice, the tiniest of sparks. “I can’t fucking escape you and this-this fucking nightmare, I’m stuck here and you won’t even- you won’t even let me-” He gets choked up, and to his frustration he tears up. “Fuck, just fucking hold me already and spew your bullshit, I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

Without a word, Daniel sits down next to Wren, who leans against him and exhales slowly when Daniel embraces him.

“I’m not going to spew any bullshit. I just…” Daniel trails off for a moment and gives Wren a light squeeze. “I wasn’t expecting this, and it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts you?” Wren laughs in disbelief. “Poor you, the guy you’re keeping captive and torturing is a depressed loser. Cry me a river.”

“It hurts me because I love you, Wren.”

“You said you weren’t going to spew bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit to me, and I hope that soon it won’t be bullshit to you, either.” Daniel sighs, a heavy sigh that makes Wren even angrier, which he knows is, at the very least, better than complete emptiness. Daniel doesn’t have the right to feel and react this way, not when he’s the cause of all of this. “And remember that you were depressed even before I bought you.” He feels Wren tense up at that. “You can’t pretend otherwise, it was right in your file. Depressed, isolated, drinking problem. You were lonely, and that made it possible for Berkeley to make you disappear without raising any eyebrows. Now you’re here, I’m here with you, I know about your problems, and I want to help. On my terms and at my pace, but I do.”

“You’re not helping,” Wren croaks, trying and failing to blink away tears, Daniel’s blunt words feeling like a dagger piercing his heart, over and over again. “I wasn’t- It was better than this, I wanted to get better, I just…”

He just couldn’t, and it was only getting worse, until he started spending entire hours - he was too busy to afford days - curled up in his bed, staring at the wall, questioning the point of it all, and he was alone, completely alone, and-

“On Earth, I wouldn’t have been there to stop you.”

Daniel’s words are like a punch to the face, strong enough that Wren would sway on his feet if he wasn’t sitting down. It’s true, he realizes in horror, and a painful sob reverberates through his body; he slumps in Daniel’s embrace, overwhelmed by the most terrifying what if he’s ever had to consider.

“Shh, sweetheart.” Daniel gently runs his hand up and down Wren’s arm and pulls him closer as he sobs, unable to stop, because Daniel is right, and he was so stupid, and in a twisted way he almost let Daniel win.

What could have been back on Earth doesn't matter anymore. Here, if he dies, Daniel wins. It’s a way to escape, but it comes at too great a cost, and now that he can think more or less clearly again, he can’t believe he even attempted that. So stupid, so stupid, and if it wasn’t for Daniel, the very same person he's fighting against, he wouldn’t be here right now.

He won’t thank Daniel, he can’t, but he leans into his touch ever so slightly, and he’s still crying, so overwhelmed by what he almost did and so relieved that he’s still here, still fighting.

“Cry it out, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

For the first time, though he would never admit it out loud, he’s grateful for that.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

#slavery whump #forced relationship whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #suicide tw #suicide cw #creepy comfort #depression whump #restrained #sv-240 #wren rackham #daniel rooney #my writing #so much time passes between updates i forget all my tags #anyway thank you for the prompt anon i really loved it! #writing this was really cathartic and i hope you enjoy

[whump-card]

Threat 2

@angst-after-dark, @whumpsday

#whump #whump art #intimate whumper #cw knife #aww it's just a lil knife don't even worry about it! #I got Possessed today so you get art #my art

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 153

"What am I?" The hollow clone of whumpee inquired to whumper, analyzing themselves through the mirror.

"You are my love of course. You've simply lost your memory."

"I'm sorry that I don't remember you then.", They allowed themselves in whumper's embrace, resting their head against whumper's chest, and listening to the quickened heartbeat. Even the hum of whumper's laughter was warm and full of vibrations, buzzing against the clone's face.

The clone explained, "I want to love you.", while whumpee could do nothing but watch through the screen, still trapped in their restraints.

#whumper #whump prompt #whump prompts #mini whump prompts #mini whump prompt #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #clone whump #clone whumpee #cw restraints #whump #whump ideas

[livingforthewhump]

For the ask game, could you maybe combine 3 and 5?

from this ask game

3–bridal carry // 5–protectiveness

—

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Whumper’s taunting voice echoed throughout the room. “I’ve got someone here who’s just dying to see you.”

Caretaker bit back the urge to cuss them out. Whumpee. They had Whumpee with them. So close, right there, and yet Caretaker was crouched in the shadows like a coward. They trembled with sheer rage.

Then they heard the click of the safety being released on a gun. Suddenly they couldn’t breathe. Whumpee’s small noise of terror was as loud as gunshots.

“It goes without saying, I should think, that denial of my requests does lead to consequences.”

A startled, pained yelp was wrenched from Whumpee’s throat. Caretaker’s hands tightened into fists. Not yet. They had to wait for the signal, they had to—

“Who was it you kept saying would come for you, little thing? What was that name?” Whumper’s smile oozed into their mocking words.

They sounded on the verge of tears. “C-caretaker.”

“That’s right! Caretaker. Imagine, Whumpee, you spend so long saying they’ll come for you, go through so much just for the hope of seeing them again, and them finally coming—only to let you get shot right in front of them, while they cower in the shadows.”

Some kind of mangled sob split through the air. Caretaker felt numb with fury.

They spoke again, softer now. “And if you’d just admitted they didn’t really care for you we wouldn’t be in this whole mess, would we, now?”

Caretaker hurtled out of their hiding spot before they had a moment to think, shoulders heaving. “Get away from them,” they spat.

Whumper’s smile was poison. “Ah, our brave hero emerges at last.”

Whumpee kneeled in front of them, hands tied, clothes hanging loosely off of their battered form. Tears soaked their cheeks, and Whumper’s free hand was wound tightly into their hair, tugging their head painfully upright.

“Well, Whumpee? Say hello.”

Whumpee’s eyes slowly flickered up off of the floor, taking Caretaker in through a glassy haze. “Careta—” Whumper tugged their hair harshly and they whimpered. “Hhh, hello.”

“Get your hands off of them, Whumper.” Caretaker’s fingers brushed the handle of their weapon, which didn’t go without Whumper’s notice.

“Ah ah ah, let’s have none of that.” Their tone was infuriatingly playful as they shoved the barrel of their gun against Whumpee’s head. “I’m sure we don’t want things to get nasty. In fact, why don’t you put that lovely little toy on the ground in front of you, and I won’t accidentally do something…drastic.”

Whumper caressed Whumpee’s cheek with the gun, drawing out a hard flinch and chuckling at the gasp of pain it caused.

Caretaker’s jaw flexed, but nonetheless they eased their weapon out of its socket and placed it in front of them, stepping away. “There. Now put the gun away.”

Whumper laughed. “Nah, I don’t think I will. It’s just too fun, seeing the both of you all jumpy like this.” They returned the barrel to rest at Whumpee’s temple. “So. Do you have what I asked for?”

Caretaker swallowed. “Whumpee first.”

“How dumb do you think I am?” Whumper quirked an eyebrow. “No. I’ll take the vial first.”

“How can you expect me to trust you not to kill them after I give it to you?”

Just a little more time.

Please.

There was that damned laugh again. “You’ll just have to trust me that I’m a lot more likely to shoot you than my little Whumpee here once I have what I want. Frankly I’ve grown quite attached to them.”

Caretaker’s skin crawled. They weren’t certain if that was better or far worse than what they’d expected.

Whumper’s finger tightened slightly over the trigger of the gun—they knew how closely Caretaker was watching. Knew that that would be enough of a warning.

“Wai—”

A bang! split the room.

Caretaker lunged forward, practically throwing themselves at Whumpee. Whumper crumpled to the floor before they were even close, dark red pooling around them. Whumpee still knelt there, looking numb, almost empty, as blood seeped around their knees. Caretaker had to hold back a cry of relief when they reached them, finally. They had them safe again.

Caretaker wrapped their arms around Whumpee, sweeping them up in a hug. Whumpee took a shuddering breath that had the sound to it of coming awake out of a dream. Or a nightmare. Trembling hands found Caretaker’s torso, grasped loosely at their shirt.

“You came,” Whumpee breathed. They sounded reverent, like they couldn’t have been sure it would ever happen.

“I came. I will always come to find you, Whumpee.” Caretaker lingered on the name. On the sheer elation of being able to say it while holding them, trembling and traumatized and sitting in a pool of blood but okay now.

And Whumpee suddenly wailed. They abandoned themself completely into Caretaker’s arms, curling against them and sobbing. It was all Caretaker could do not to copy them.

Footsteps clattered down an echoey hallway.

“What the hell was that?” Sniper snapped. Whumpee jerked in a harsh flinch against Caretaker. “I barely finished clearing the location and you had already thrown our plan to the dogs!”

Caretaker stood, leaning Whumpee against them and scooping them up into a bridal carry. They weren’t sure how far they would be able to walk, but they knew for sure they didn’t want to push Whumpee until they found out. Whumpee just readjusted their grip on Caretaker’s shirt, eyes drooping. Some kind of adrenaline crash.

“I didn’t have a choice,” they said firmly. Leader and Fighter had walked up beside Sniper.

“The plan was there so you wouldn’t have to make any choices.” Leader had a makeshift bandage wrapped around one arm. They looked more than a little miffed.

Caretaker grit their teeth, pulling Whumpee in closer to their chest. “It all turned out the way we wanted, didn’t it?”

“That’s not really the point. In order to be part of a team—”

“No,” Caretaker interrupted, furiously. “It was either sacrifice the plan or sacrifice Whumpee. They could have died, and none of you have even asked if they’re okay!” They paused for a moment, but no one filled the silence. Another tear slipped down Whumpee’s cheek.

Caretaker started for the door, but no one moved to follow. They turned around slowly. “What are you all doing? We have to make sure they’re not injured.”

Leader’s jaw flexed. “There’s still work that needs to be done here.”

“Whumper is dead!”

“And there are things we must attend to because of that. You can wait with Whumpee in the transport if it will make you feel better.”

Caretaker looked down at Whumpee again. They hadn’t noticed before how pale their skin was, how their cheeks were more gaunt than they’d seen them before. Even if they weren’t injured, they deserved to be put before everything else.

“No.” Caretaker spat the word, decisive enough to stop the team in its tracks. “I’m not waiting for you. I’m leaving, and I’m taking them back to my house. And if any of you decide to come visit them, it’s on you to explain to them why being ‘part of a team’ means you put dead trash bags above your own hurt members.”

Sniper looked furious. “Caretaker—”

“Don’t. talk to me.” They spun on their heel and left without looking back.

—

General whump taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @prettyboysinpain @1becky1 @temporary-whump-sideblog @chartreusephoenix @thelazywitchphotographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf @badluck990 @lockedupuniverse @luna-rein @broadwaybabe18 @pinescales-whumps @silverwhisperer1 @embersalive @the-bloody-sadist @batfacedliar-yetagain @nicolepascaline @whump-angst-fluff-repeat @susanshinning @didieatyourdog @corvid-voidbur @insane-writing-things @thebaffledtiewriter @morning-star-whump

#i feel like this is kinda short #but oh well #content is content #cw death #cw gun violence #protectiveness #whump #whump drabble #emotional whump #gun violence #team whump #umm #rescue #rescue whump #protective caretaker #scared whumpee #creepy whumper #intimate whumper

[astrowhump]

Junior #4

flash back- a gloomy morning

TW: mentions of abuse, broken bones, blood, implied murder, stockholm syndrome, angst

[previous chapter]

“…are you okay?”

One harsh glance is enough to make Junior stammer.

“s-s-s-sorry m-m-as-ster-r…” his head droops down to avoid the angry gaze.

Alexander is in a gloomy mood today; he spent a good few minutes just staring out the kitchen window with an empty expression. Junior wrestled with himself for a while before he decided to speak up. It’s very unusual for Master to be grumpy so early in the day; he knows Alex is an early bird, religiously bound to his hour-long morning rituals. No, something special must be going on today.

Alexander is in no mood to be disturbed by the pesky pet; he considers gagging and locking him in the basement. But then he’d be bored out of his mind all day, he isn’t in the mood for that either. He weighs up his options. Finally, with an intentionally long sigh, he decides to open up. Afterall, why shouldn’t he? This boy will be dead and dumped in a landfill eventually.

“It’s my father’s death anniverssary today.”

Junior didn’t expect a soft tone out of that miffed face.

“Oh! I’m s-sorry m-master.” He gathers all his courage to put a reassuring hand on his master’s elbow. His right hand never lost the tremor even after his broken wrist healed.

Alex bursts into an unlooked-for fit of laughter, loud and terrifying. Junior immediately withdraws his hand, but his master doesn’t even notice, howling with laughter until he’s out of breath.

“Sorry? Oh no, little pet. Today is a jolly jolly day. It’s the anniverssary of the day I got rid of that good-for-nothing piece of garbage.”

He turns to face his boy and Junior’s eyes go wide. His master’s face has turned a bright shade of pink with how hard he’s smiling, like a child excited for a trip to Disneyland. It’s never good when Alex is excited.

“I think we should celebrate.”

Junior has a good guess what ‘celebrating’ translates into in his dictionary. He takes a step backwards, not really hoping to get away, but to delay the inevitable ‘celebration’ for as long as he can.

“You know he was the first person I ever took the life of. Well-deserved I’d say…”

Alex’s predator spirit is back, he backs the boy out of the kitchen step-by-step, into the living room.

“It was a beautiful sunny morning. I woke up to the sound of my mother screaming…that poor woman.” Something similar to sorrow takes over Alexander’s expression for an instant and disappears in the blink of an eye.

He keeps his eyes glued to Junior’s dilated pupils as he follows him, dragging out each step, fully certain that his boy has nowhere else to run to.

“I walked in on him beating my mother to shit right there in the living room, under our family photo…You could say my father wasn’t really a morning person.”

He pauses for a second, trying to recall everything in vivid detail.

“Do you know what I did, Junior?”

Junior only shakes his head no; internally scolding himself for asking, regretting every single choice he made today.

“Do you?” Alex shouts. His raspy voice, his creepy smile, how he slowly crouchs like a beast ready to hunt, and that hair-raising glint in his eyes; they all come together to force a stream of tears down his boy’s face.

“…n-n-no m-m-master…” he’s nearing the sofa, a dead end; he doesn’t want to know what happens when he runs out of room to get away.

“I grabbed the telephone…” he says as he reaches for the antique phone sitting uselessly on the coffee table. The back of junior’s knee hits the sofa.

The chase is over, here comes the pain.

“And I slammed it right into his disgusting head.” He swings the phone at the boy’s face and it lands right below his eye. Junior lets out a blood-curdling scream as he crashes to the ground.

“And I kept striking blow…” the phone hits the untouched side of Junior’s face and he feels his jaw crashing under the force.

“…after…” another hit to his broken cheekbone.

“…blow…” Junior hardly comprehends anymore; his vision starts going black, but not quite enough to stop the feeling of pain, just enough to make his eyes burn and his ears ring each time the handset bashes him in the face.

“…until his obnoxious fucking brain was all over the floor,” He says that with a prideful smile as he lands his final blow on the almost-unconscious bloodied mess on the floor. Junior yelps, not quite present enough to do much more, fractured skull sending wave after wave of pain through his nerves. He keeps his eyes shut, begs his brain to shut down and let go of this agonizing consciousness; but the ache keeps tapping on his window the second he starts drifting off, bringing him back to the present moment.

Alex’s smile slowly fades away as flashes from the past make him feel nostalgic. He places the blood-stained landline phone back in its place and collapses on the sofa right above where Junior lies sobbing.

The birds chirping ouside and the sunlight luminating the room is a delight to the captor and headache-inducing to his prisoner. It’s a beautiful day and blood is in the air, exactly as it was years ago.

“This just might be the best anniverssary I’ve spent so far. Stop ruining it with your annoying weeping.”

Junior doesn’t have an ounce of force in him to respond; he just lowers the volume of the whimpers to avoid getting on his master’s nerves.

“Come on now, Junior. It’s not that bad. Go clean yourself up.” He nudges at his side with his foot.

The boy tries, he puts all his energy into it but his brain is just too weak to order his limbs to move. He wants to sleep so bad. He rolls to his side and coughs out some of the blood that’s started pooling inside his mouth.

“Ah goddammit!” He stands and lifts the drowsy boy up by his arms, putting a firm hand behind his back to keep him still. Even though he’s obviously irritated, his touch is gentle.

“Man up, Junior.” It’s Alexander speaking, but those aren’t his words. Deep down, he’s just a cheap impersonation of his father.

He helps the boy toddle back to the kitchen and wash his face in the sink. The cool water helps soothe the constant burning in his jaw.

Junior’s head is still spinning. His fingers unclasp from the edge of the counter as his vision goes black. For just a second, he loses his balance; but to his dimay, he doesn’t crash to the floor, instead he lands on a warm chest and Alexander’s hands wrap around his shoulders. His tormentor holds him as he cries, lulling him into a sense of care, however false or temporary that might be.

“I’m sorry…sorry…” Junior whispers between his sobs as he sinks his face in his master’s shirt; too over-whelmed to know what he’s even sorry about.

“shhh it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay…” Alex cooes in his hair as he presses soft kisses to the crown of his head.

Basking in the peaceful moment, they remain still, enjoying the warmth of each other’s embrace, for as long as it lasts.

taglist (tell me if you wanna be added) @ladygwennn @darkthingshappen @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @thelazywitchphotographer @horribleauthortm @angelwhump @hiding-in-the-shadows @oddsconvert @gala1981 @there-will-always-be-blood @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumperfully @pigeonwhumps @cc1010fox

#whump #pet whump #whump writing #creepy whumper #whump community #defiant whumpee #intimate whumper #whump drabble #my writing #whump prompt #whumper #whumpee #caretaker #angst #angst prompt #sadistic whumper #torture #cw abuse #obedient whumpee #obedient #stockholm syndrome

[whump-in-the-closet]

What’s Mine is Mine

cw: gore lots of gore you have been warned, kinda lab whump but more just a fucked up situation, intimate whumper? idk

Whumper brushed the tips of their fingers along the leather restraints. “How are we doing tonight?” Whumper walked two fingers down Whumpee’s forehead restraint.

Whumpee whimpered into the gag as Whumper tightened the leather. It may have been a protest, a curse, an indignant snarky retort, but all that came out was a choked, inhuman noise.

Whumper went on, undeterred. “Oh, yeah. Me too. I’m so very, very excited to take back what’s mine.”

Another choked whimper.

Whumper turned and there was the metallic clatter of steel, followed by the sharp smell of cleaning product. When they smiled down at Whumpee, they held a scalpel.

Whumpee jerked against the restraints. The restraints held firm— the vicious yanking reduced to shuddering.

Whumper smiled. They cut away Whumpee’s shirt as if it were nothing.

The cold air on their skin felt like the tightening of a noose. The flash of the blade— a guillotine dropping.

Whumper pressed the tip of the scalpel against Whumpee’s chest. “Your heart,” they whispered, “that—belongs to me.”

The first line brought crimson behind Whumpee’s eyes. They screamed into the gag as the blade drew another sharp line, parallel to the first.

Whumpee locked eyes with the overhead light and let the light burn them.

Burn, burn, burn.

Burning on their chest.

Burning in their eyes.

Fucking burning.

And then the scalpel slid under their skin. White pain slammed into their vision, spiraling into black.

Whumper was talking again— “You know, it’s kind of like peeling a peach. Slice and pull—“

Through the sickening white fog that everything was drowning in, Whumpee managed to put two and two together. They craned their neck upwards— horror blooming into trailing vines that wrapped around their limbs and nerves and muscles and tightened and tightened and—

More burning.

Whumper held up a cut-out heart. A patch of skin, blood still dripping from it.

Behind their eyes, white dots morphed into candy hearts.

#have mercy i’m so tired idk what im doing #if there are any typos please shoot me on sight #i mean. let me know #also if i missed any cws #whump writing #whumpblr #whump drabble #intimate whumper #i never write intimate whumper #im never doing it again #just the gore of this situation appealed to me so bad #gore #whump scenario

[whumpbump]

Baby pt 2 - The bottle

Cw: non-con drugging via eye drops, non-con undressing, forced bathing

Baby? Oh hell no I’m not their BABY I’m their CAPTIVE. I need to get out of here. Whumpee panicked as they began to struggle against the strong arms that elevated them.

Whumper 1 grabbed a blanket and quickly swaddled Whumpee so they couldn’t run. They were certainly small enough to control. That was one of the reasons they were chosen to be “adopted.”

“Now, now, Baby, hold still for us,” Whumper 1 instructed. “You need a bath and dinner. You haven’t eaten in awhile and growing babies need their nutrients!”

“No! Nngh! Ah!” Whumpee did NOT want to be undressed by these creeps but before they could struggle more, their left eye was forced open and something was dripped into it. “WHAT DI YOUH H DH-OOH Hu hhh-“ They were hazily watching the two now carry Whumpee out of whatever holding area they were in before to a clean, warm bathroom.

From here, Whumpee’s memory flew by in clips. They remember hands on their small, incapacitated body. Not in ways that were inappropriate, but more like efficiently working to strip them down and checking on any cuts and bruises. Every time one was found, they were cooed at. “Oohhh that must hurt I’m So sorry Sweetie.”

Their small, vulnerable body was placed gently in the tub as warm water rose. “Hu hhu” Whumpee whimpered pathetically. They didn’t understand what was happening or why but they were wet and naked and scared. They were shushed gently and washed with the utmost care as these strangers wanted only the best for their new prize.

Now dried and warmly dressed in footy pajamas that were suspiciously their size, Whumpee was cradled securely against Whumper 2’s chest - the stronger of the two - and carried to a large high chair. Still in the throes of the eye drops, Whumpee clumsily moved their arms and legs to try and keep from being contained once more. They were neither fast nor strong enough before they were belted in. Almost as if this was not the first time such an action had occurred in that kitchen.

The muzzle was removed at the time of the bath since Whumpee was so anesthetized that they could hardly close their drooling mouth (which was accommodated for by a brightly colored bib.) Whumper 1, the smaller and louder of the two, turned around to face Whumpee and Whumper 2 at the dining area with a large supply cup with something that looked not very appealing inside.

“Uhh. UhhUUHHuhjhhh-“ “Shhh it’s ok Babydoll, this is a special mix we’ve come up with to support all nutrients that you need. It shouldn’t taste too bad either. As good as the breast. Right, Whumper 2?”

“That’s right, now get ready for dinner, heeerreeee it comes!”

#whumpee #whumpblr #whump blog #whump ideas #whump #whump inspiration #whump tropes #whumper #whump community #creepy whumper #defiant whumpee #intimate whumper #multiple whumpers #cw noncon #noncon drugging #forced bathing

[galaxywhump]

if wren started begging for something during a torture session (a small break bc he feels like he's gonna be sick, or some water) would daniel grant that to him? or would it be situationally dependent?

I know you were probably expecting a straightforward answer, but your ask made a WIP happen, so here it is.

[SV-240 masterlist]

contents: forced relationship whump, slavery whump, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, illness, non-graphic emeto, torture, knives, stress position, blindfold, creepy comfort.

~~~

Wren woke up feeling terrible.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary for him, but that morning he felt terrible in a different way. He felt ill; weak and slightly dizzy, shivering despite it not being cold in the house. He didn’t tell Daniel, even though he wanted nothing more than to be given medication, hot tea, and some peace and quiet. No, telling Daniel would also mean him being overly caring and doting, which was the last thing Wren wanted to deal with.

So he didn’t say anything, and then he learned that Daniel was in the mood for some handiwork with his favorite knife.

Shit.

He still didn’t say a word when Daniel closed handcuffs on his wrists and attached them to a chain connected to a hook in the ceiling, forcing him to keep his arms outstretched and stand on his tiptoes. He didn’t say a word when Daniel put a blindfold on his eyes and earplugs in his ears. He just shuddered and gritted his teeth when the knife pierced his arm and was dragged downwards.

Just get through this, he thinks to himself while Daniel makes small, precise cuts around his shoulder blades in a pattern that only makes sense to him and his artistic vision. It’s not the first time.

But it’s the first time when he feels this awful during torture, and the position he’s in doesn’t help. His body is under so much strain, stretched out uncomfortably, he can barely stay upright, his arms hurt, his head hurts, everything hurts, and Daniel’s only adding more pain. He still feels dizzy despite the darkness - or maybe because of it - his face is covered in cold sweat, he starts feeling slightly nauseous. The blindfold is soaked with tears of frustration, he can hear his heartbeat way too clearly, it’s the only sound he hears, he feels horrible, he wants out, he wants this to end, he can’t handle this after all, but that means…

“Stop,” he mumbles weakly, shaking his head and whining when the pain from the cuts seems to intensify now that he’s not fully preoccupied with his illness. Talking with the earplugs in is an unpleasant, almost surreal experience, and he can only hope he’s actually saying something, that his voice isn't too weak. "Please stop."

But this is Daniel, so Wren can imagine him laughing at his begging, making a stupid comment promising that this will be over soon, sweetheart, but this isn't about that. He whimpers when the knife cuts into his back again.

"I'm serious, stop, I-I think I'm gonna be sick, I just need a break."

The knife disappears, and Wren swallows desperately, struggling to take a deep breath.

He flinches when he feels Daniel grip his arm - thankfully an undamaged part of it - and a moment later his wrists are released. Daniel catches him before he can collapse, unable to stay upright after the punishing position.

The earplugs are removed, and the blindfold follows. Wren winces and blinks, and when his eyes get used to something other than darkness, he sees Daniel's face, with worry written all over it.

"Are you still feeling sick?" he asks, and Wren nods.

Daniel wraps Wren's arm around himself to support him and leads him to the bathroom, where the nausea gets overwhelming. Daniel holds his hair back for him, not saying a word for now.

Wren closes his eyes, exhausted, and fuck does everything hurt, but mostly his arms and back now that he's moving again. He's trembling, getting up feels like an impossible task, and he's still crying, from pain and from his awful state, and he's not even mad at himself for it.

"Better now?"

"I think so," he mutters. Daniel lets go of his hair.

"I'll get you some water."

Wren nods, keeping his eyes closed, not daring to move an inch for fear of his body igniting with pain again and the room spinning.

Anxiety creeps up on him; nothing like this has ever happened before, and he doesn’t know what to expect from Daniel.

He comes back and hands Wren a glass of water, then sits down next to him, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I think I'm sick." Wren stares down at the water, every breath causing his fresh wounds to shift and hurt even more. "I feel like shit, and… you just saw for yourself, I guess." He sighs. “So just get the session over with before it gets worse.”

Daniel firmly shakes his head, frowning.

“No. You need to rest. I’ll take care of your wounds and then you can lie down.” He pets Wren’s hair. “We can continue some other time.”

Wren huffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You do realize how fucked up that sounds, right?”

Daniel just chuckles in response. He does know. It changes nothing.

The knife will return in a few days, and yet Wren can’t help but be relieved as Daniel cleans and dresses his wounds, then gives him a shirt and carries him to the living room.

“I can carry you to the bedroom, if you’d like. Unless you prefer the couch.”

“Couch,” Wren mutters. The bed is more comfortable and the bedroom would offer more peace and quiet, provided Daniel leaves him alone, but he wants to stay out of there as much as he can, and the couch is too small for Daniel to lie down next to him.

As much as he hates the couch, he can’t deny that it’s comfortable, and in his exhaustion he practically melts into it. Daniel even brings him a blanket, which Wren curls up under, pulling it up to his neck.

“I’ll bring you some pills,” Daniel says, pressing his palm to Wren’s forehead; he clicks his tongue when he confirms that it’s unnaturally warm, and brushes Wren’s hair away from his face, making him wince. “Do you need anything else, sweetheart?”

“Rest,” Wren sighs, struggling to keep his eyes open. Now that he’s stopped ignoring it, his illness has decided to hit him with everything it’s got.

“Okay. I’ll fetch the pills and you can sleep after you’ve taken them, alright? Try to stay awake.”

“Mhm.”

Daniel leaves, and Wren wraps the blanket tighter around himself, blinking slowly, trying to fight his exhaustion off for a bit longer. Daniel is just as doting as he’d feared he would be, but… aside from his usual sweethearting it feels good to be taken care of, and to be listened to. The wounds still sting, a reminder of the torture he’d gone through and will go through again soon, but he can’t bring himself to care. He waits for his captor and torturer to come back with the medicine, and he has to remind himself not to thank him for this bare minimum of kindness, more than most of what he’s gotten throughout his life.

He wishes it wasn’t like this, moments of kindness and loving care juxtaposed with pain and tears and coercion; he knows how much Daniel enjoys doing this, being the sole source of both suffering and comfort.

He’s aware of so many mechanisms of his captivity, yet he’s powerless to fight them, forced to accept them, and all he can hope for is that all these processes won’t shape him into something else, whatever Daniel, whose smile is unnervingly genuine and fond when he enters the living room, wants him to be.

“Sleep well, sweetheart," Daniel says softly once Wren's washed the pills down with water. "I hope you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“So you can torture me more?” Wren mutters, closing his eyes. 

Daniel’s lighthearted laughter keeps ringing in his ears long after he's fallen asleep.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpvp @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood

#slavery whump #forced relationship whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #creepy comfort #illness cw #emeto cw #blindfolded #torture cw #knives cw #wren rackham #daniel rooney #sv-240 #my writing #i can't believe writing is working #also i am 99% sure the taglist won't work #so if you're on my taglist please let me know if it does #i'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind anon! it just inspired me #look at me writing sickfic