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whumpinthepot · 1 year

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Hamster Interactive Story

CYOA

Chapter 4: Defend

Prev - Masterlist

Content and TW: negative animal encounter/fight (the mouse is ok dw), mean ableist thinking/ judgemental thinking, dubious handling/ grabbing, broken bones, food mention, Giant/tiny, pet trope, cages, dehumanization, selective mutism, poor vision without glasses,

Poll winner: Scare mouse off with a stick AND throw food into the middle of the room

—

Before you can make up your mind, the mouse is on top of Hamster with its claws digging into her arm. It sniffs around her hair for something to eat but only finds wood chips. When she screams in alarm it startles the mouse, causing it to jump.

You’re worried it will turn aggressive as a defense and bite her. You have no time to make up your mind, and you’re stuck between attacking it, or distracting it with some food you had been saving.

Registering both thoughts at once you reach into your pocket for some cookie crumbs, and the other hand for your stick, all while picking up your pace towards her.

You charge the mouse with a growl rolling up your throat and swing wildly at it, hitting its side. It’s surprised and squeaks loudly, but you know the warning shot won't leave any damage. Hamster covers her head with her good arm and kicks away from you and the mouse. You throw the food into the kitchen opening, and hit the mouse again when it turns on you. Once it flinches away with another alarming squeak you wave the food in front of it until it locks eyes with its potential meal. You throw those crumbs towards the same spot as before.

The mouse turns away, finally leaving you alone and follows the crumb trail with its little hands padding around the floor to gather everything up. It appears to find this a winning situation, and scurries off.

You turn around to see if Hamster is watching, but she looks too scared to move, and hasn't noticed you. When you approach she startles, then squints towards you like she can’t really see what you are.

God… Is she blind too?

Maybe you can get away without her seeing you, but the risk of that is too high.

Right as you open your mouth to threaten her into secrecy the human walks through the front door, and a heavy bag of groceries lands hard onto the floor with a rattling thud right where Hamster was laying when she fell.

Ashley is home, and you have to flee. You rush back into hiding where you couldn’t be seen or grabbed.

It doesn't take long for the human to notice the path of fluff that leads directly to Hamster. You watch from your hiding spot as a pale hand reaches for the girl and grabs her. Hamster is already crying out in pain when she gets swept up to Ashley’s chest, and you can’t say you particularly enjoy seeing her this way. Still, it's better her than you.

You decide to leave for now, Ashley could handle the rest.

Credits and tag list under the cut:

Thank you @alittlewhump for proof reading <3

Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @dramat1ques @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @whither-wander-whump @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @copperyote @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed

#hamster interactive story #interactive whump #g/t writing #whump cyoa #cyoa writing #g/t art #whump art #pet whump #giant tiny #whump #tw broken bones #tw pet trope #tw negative animal encounter #breezy’s post #breezys writing #breezys art #tiny whump

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hurtthemgently · 6 months

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A game-

Whumper is only gambling money, even when the chips stack up, it’s not much to someone so wealthy.

Whumpee is gambling time. Each chip represents days. Weeks. Months… and they’re loosing.

When the games finally over, whumpee has lost years, to be spent owned by whumper.

#pet whump #gambling tw #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump trope

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pendarling · 1 year

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Some Evil Things Whumper Could Be Doing + Descriptive Whump Language

Warning: I do NOT condone any acts of violence and such. These are all just for writing (Tumblr please don’t come after me😢🥺)

TW: Everything

Harsh cold breathing as Whumpee stands outside in the cold winter. The ice biting their bare feet deep in the snow as chilly winds blow their soaking body

Sneezing, sniffling, barfing and passing out after returning inside

Cutting hair and leaving uneven edges or pulling and tugging hair off. Whumper could also enforce some emotional damage by forcing Whumpee to cut off their own hair in front of a mirror.

"Fucking do it already!" "Please don't hurt me, I'll do it." "Cut it before I do!" "Okay, I will...-- I'm sorry-- I will..."

Keeping Whumpee awake all night by not interacting with them during the day but torturing them throughout the night. Whumpers who do this for about a week will have a Whumpee who refuses to sleep at night due to the fear of suddenly being jolted awake with new pain

Not letting Whumpee speak. Stuffing a cloth down Whumpee's mouth and reducing their language to just begging. That way once they appear in front of Caretaker they will be too afraid to speak or will have forgotten.

Purposely leaving wounds unattended after cutting up Whumpee's legs, thighs, hips, and hands and waiting for blood to dry, then cutting it again so it never heals.

Tightening ropes or chains around their wrists, ankles and torso enough to make it burn or dig into their skin, especially if the rope is made up of rougher materials

Feeding Whumpee nothing for days and then overwhelming them with so much food that they physically can't hold it down anymore

That dizzying feeling that leaves them sweating and anxious when Whumpee has not eaten or drank anything for so long that their mind is mentally congested

"Remember, your life, body, and thoughts are controlled by me, owned by me, and mine only. You don't have a world outside of this."

Reminding Whumpee every day that the search for them is slowly coming to a close and spreading lies that their friends and family have come to understand that Whumpee is dead

When Whumpee is so broken that they finally mindlessly agree to whatever Whumper instructs them to do

Whumpees that get slight Stockholm syndrome for their Whumper and fall into an obedient pattern with undeserved sympathy

Taking Whumpee outside after who knows how long behind closed doors. Then Whumper points out how literally not a single person knows who they are or are willing to report them

"Say it." "I'm a waste of space. Nobody wants me." "Was that so hard?"

Rewarding Whumpee after every time they've completed a chore or task with little torture or no torture at all. Alternatively, they can let Whumpee pick what they'll be dealing with for the day as a reward so at least they know they chose that option.

Hissing and crying when a hot piece of metal is slightly touching their skin. Or if you want to be extra evil: go ahead and rapidly run it up and down the forearm

When Whumpee eventually forgets their own name and history. They stopped crying a few weeks ago, they ask for permission to speak or go to the bathroom, eat, sleep, move etc...

"What do you say?" "Thank you, sir/ma'am." "You're learning well!"

Making Whumpee sit in their own dirt and blood as the pain of their wounds festering with sores, rashes and cavities builds up

When Whumper is taking Whumpee outside and before doing so, they hide their scars and bruises with makeup and clothing then practice their excuses if someone does suspect

~~~

MASTERLIST

#whump community #intimate whumper #writing prompt #writing help #writing advice #whumper #how to write #whump #whumpee #tw everything #caretaker #whump tropes #pet whump

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 3 months

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today’s whump prompt for us struggling writers:

whumpee was forced to eat like an animal (by shoving their mouth into the bowl, or using their hands to feed themself) for so long that the concept of using spoons and other cutleries became foreign to them, and so caretaker had to teach them to use spoons again.

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kabie-whump · 2 months

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✧･ﾟRipe, About to Fall - Part 9 ✧･ﾟ

This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.

Title from ‘Liquid Smooth’ by Mitski

Series Description and Warnings

Masterlist, First, Previous

Chapter Summary: Athos has some guests over. Dramaaaa

Chapter Content: references to past child abuse, master/pet dynamics, betrayal, a lot of talk about whipping and branding but it doesn't happen onscreen, drug withdrawl/addiction

Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Have you learned your lesson?”

Ventis could barely understand what Athos was saying. The vial of nightspill - the one thing capable of ending his suffering - in his master’s hand captured all of his attention.

He rolled over to expose his arm, the sweat-damp covers twisting around him. He couldn’t remember when he’d been taken to bed. Probably some time after he started hallucinating and sobbing from pain in front of someone important. It’d been a while since then. A whole night, probably. Athos smells like fresh coffee and a crack in the curtains lets in a sliver of orange light.

“Yes,” Ventis gasped. “Please, I’m sorry. Please make it stop.”

Athos’s expression softened, his hand going to stroke Ventis’s hair. “Oh, my poor little bird. You look a mess. Did you have a hard night without me next to you?”

Ventis nodded, not really aware of what he was agreeing with. “Please,” he whimpered. “It hurts. I need you.”

“Alright, darling. Only since you asked so nicely.”

Ventis sobbed with relief as Athos gently injected the nightspill into his veins. The pain drained away, replaced with a soothing numbness, and his world came back into focus.

“Thank you, master,” Ventis gasped.

Athos just smiled as he unlocked and removed the cuff from Ventis’s wrist. A wave of static electricity escaped him with a buzzing sound, making the blankets stick to Ventis’s skin.

“I need you to be on your best behavior today, pet,” Athos said as Ventis found a glass of water on his bedside table and chugged it, soothing his painfully dry mouth. “I will be having some guests over for dinner. They are nobles from a kingdom north of here, and it is important to me that we impress them.”

Ventis nodded his understanding, wiping excess water from his mouth with his sleeve. “I’ll be good,” he assured Athos.

“I know you will do your best, darling. However, due to your lapse in behavior a few days ago I will have to enact some preventive measures. First, I expect complete silence from you. Tomorrow you will receive five lashes for every word I hear from you tonight. Understand?”

“Yes, master.”

“Second, you will be bound tonight. Not tightly enough to interfere with your duties, of course, but enough to serve as a reminder of your place here. I know you are not accustomed to working this way, but nonetheless I expect nothing but grace from you at all times.”

“I understand, master.”

“Good. I have some preparations to attend to, so I will leave you to gather yourself. The next time we see each other I expect silence.”

Ventis allows himself to sit quietly and enjoy the relief provided by the nightspill, a heavy weight squashing down his rebellious emotions. He had spent the last day and night in turmoil; hating Athos, mourning Onthyes, longing for freedom. But everything felt okay again now. He had been silly and irrational for wanting to run away with the first big strong guard to treat him like a person. He didn’t need any of that. He had everything he needed right here with Athos.

Ventis was able to relax into the long process of being prepared for the evening’s events. His hair was styled, his teeth, horns, and scales polished, his clothing carefully selected from a closet that took up an entire room of its own.

The bindings that were put on him were more for show than anything else. A long, delicate golden chain spilled down from his collar and split to loop around each wrist, which were loosely bound together in front of his body in a similar fashion. His ankles were linked together as well by a chain that left enough room for him to walk slowly but not so much room that he could break into a run. He could probably break the chains if he really wanted to.

“The master’s guests are here,” a maid poked her head into Ventis’s room to announce. “They’re in the sitting room.”

Ventis took one last look at himself in the mirror, unable to stop himself from smiling at the wave of pride in his beauty. The garment he wore left very little to the imagination as always. This one in particular was open in the back in a way that very clearly showed off the brand Athos had given him. It still looked bad, but not as bad as it had yesterday.

The symbol had made a clean impression on his skin, clearly announcing exactly who Ventis belonged to.

“Alright. I’m going,” he said, savoring the last words he would speak that night.

As Ventis made his way down to the main sitting room he could hear voices that made an uncomfortable itch tingle at his spine. He pushed the feeling aside. They sounded familiar, sure, but he was just being paranoid.

Then he entered the sitting room. His eyes locked on to the two men sitting across from Athos instantly.

No. Gods no.

It had only been three years, but Theodore looked older. His form was bulkier, his horns were longer, and he appeared to be cultivating a beard that Ventis would love to tease him for in any other situation.

Their shared father looked exactly the same. Tall. Powerful. Stone cold.

Ventis had rarely seen the man express any emotion other than disappointment and the occasional flash of rage, but the moment that their eyes met something crossed his face that Ventis didn’t recognize.

“What is the meaning of this?” Father’s voice was carefully controlled, but it was echoed by an audible crack of thunder from outside - unusual considering that it was meant to be a completely clear day. The room dropped ten degrees in an instant. Suddenly Ventis was a little kid again, suppressing the urge to run and hide from his father’s wrath.

Athos turned around to look at Ventis and the grin on his face said everything. He’d planned this. This was a punishment. He’d called Ventis’s father and brother here just to humiliate him, and now he was basking in the chaos he’d caused.

“I-”

“Five.”

Right. Five lashes per word. That conniving bastard.

Ventis shut his mouth but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His feet were rooted to the floor. He’d gotten to the point that he didn’t mind being exposed in front of others, but now that he stood in front of his father and his brother he was hyper-aware of every inch of bare skin.

At least they seemed equally shocked and horrified. Theodore’s eyes were wide, his face bright red as he seemed unsure of where to look. Father was still struggling to contain himself. Raindrops began to thump against the windows.

“Don’t be shy, pet,” Athos said flippantly, turning back around to face his guests. “You know your place.”

Ventis wondered if he’d be able to break the window and throw himself out before someone stopped him. He might just be able to manage it. But instead he let his feet carry him to Athos, where he settled on the cushion on the floor in front of the man.

More thunder. Theodore failed at suppressing a strangled sound. Father had gone completely stone-faced.

Part of Ventis was glad that his father was seeing what he had become. I’m here because of you, he wanted to scream. I’m like this because you banished me. Now sit there and fucking face it.

Athos rested a hand on Ventis’s head, playing with his hair. “This is Ventis, my treasured companion,” he said proudly, pretending to be unaware of the tension that had fallen over the room. “Please, pay him no mind. You were telling me about your efforts to combat piracy on the northern coast?”

Ventis winced, seeing Father’s eyes widen at the use of his name. He hadn’t been going by Ventis before he was banished.

Father took a single deep breath, composing himself. “Yes, I have put certain countermeasures in place to discourage piracy-”

“I apologize,” Theodore cut in. “Are we supposed to just ignore this?” He gestured towards Ventis.

“Theodore,” Father warned under his breath.

“Oh? Is there an issue here? Do people not have pets in your kingdom?” Athos was lying. There was no way he didn’t know what he was doing when he invited them here.

“This boy,” Father said disdainfully, “used to be my son and Theodore’s half-brother. But there is no issue, because he is no longer a member of our family. He is nothing to us.”

Ventis traced the intricate patterns on the carpet with his eyes.

“Ah, well, you know what they say. One man’s trash is another’s treasure.”

The topic was turned away from Ventis after that. He could almost tune them out and pretend like the two men in front of him were any other guests of Athos’s.

Almost, but every time Father hummed in that one way he did when he was trying to pretend his conversation partner wasn’t boring him he had to suppress the urge to flinch. And every time Theodore gave in to his nervous compulsion to pick at his fingernails Ventis had to keep himself from reaching out and stopping him with a teasing, “You’ll ruin your manicure, brother.”

Dinner was ready not much later. Ventis took his usual place standing against the wall, a pitcher of wine in hand.

His stomach growled. He hadn’t been able to eat yesterday, the withdrawals tearing at his stomach with a ferocity that pushed him to turn down any food offered to him. A maid had brought him breakfast this morning, but he hadn’t eaten since then and he knew that he wouldn’t eat again unless Athos thought to offer him something. Dinners like this always made him feel like a dog waiting for its owner to drop table scraps.

Athos held up his empty glass, just slightly higher than would be considered casual, and Ventis rushed forward to fill it in an instant. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the man’s signals anymore. Serving him was second nature.

"I have never seen him so obedient before,” Father said, watching Ventis over his own glass.

Ventis tensed, but he finished filling Athos’s cup and stepped back silently.

“Oh? Did he behave differently as a child?”

“There was a period of time in which I was convinced he was deaf. He never listened. What is your secret?”

Athos barked out a laugh. “It’s simple, really. Ventis serves me because he loves me. I give him everything he may ever want and he gives me his entire self. He belongs to me - body and mind - and he does so willingly because he knows no one else will ever treat him as well as I do. That combined with a heavy hand in punishment when the need arises does well at keeping him in line.”

An amused smirk pulls at the corner of Father’s lips. He knocked back the last sip of his wine, then gestured Ventis over.

Ventis felt his heart sink with every step he took around the table to his father’s side. He studiously avoided eye contact as he filled the glass.

Father’s hand shot out as Ventis began to step away, taking his wrist in a tight grip.

Ventis gasped. He was eight and thirteen and sixteen and twenty all at once. He couldn’t meet his father’s eyes, but he could feel them boring into his face, picking out every single weakness.

“How does he punish you?” Father asked, his voice filled with a detached curiosity.

Ventis glanced at Athos. He’d been ordered not to speak.

Athos waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be rude, pet. Answer him.”

Satisfied with the permission, Ventis returned his attention to his father. “Lashes, mostly,” he admitted. “He has an enchanted whip. It doesn’t leave marks.”

Father released his grip on Ventis’s wrist and Ventis stepped back immediately, his heart pounding.

“Sixty,” Athos muttered between bites of food.

No.

Ventis whipped his head around to look at him. “But you said-”

“Seventy-five.”

That shut him up. He should’ve known Athos would do this. The man had given him permission to speak, but he had not revoked the looming threat of punishment for it.

The rest of the night went by without issue. Dinner was consumed and cleared away, drinks were poured in the parlor, and then Father and Theodore were saying their goodbyes. Ventis didn’t miss the long, loaded look Theodore sent him as they left, but he couldn’t ackowledge it.

The air was tense as Ventis and Athos retired to the bedroom that night. Ventis had never felt so deeply betrayed by anyone before. He couldn’t even bear to look at Athos as he undressed and joined him under the thick blankets.

“You may speak now,” Athos said, opening his arms for Ventis to lay on his chest.

Ventis settled against him but did not speak. It was probably another trick. Athos had said before that he shouldn’t speak for the entire night.

“It was an astounding coincidence - your father and brother being my guests tonight. Were you surprised?”

Ventis nodded.

“Words please, darling.”

It had to be a trick. He wasn’t falling for it.

“Ventis.” Athos gripped his chin, forcing eye contact. Ventis barely suppressed a whimper. “Why won’t you speak?”

It took a long moment of silence before realization dawned across Athos’s face. “I am being genuine. Your evening of silence is over now.”

Ventis just stared at him, wide eyed and confused.

“Speak, or I’ll double the number of lashes I owe you tomorrow.”

That did the trick. Ventis would much rather take an extra five or ten lashes than another seventy-five. “Yes, master,” he whispered. “I am sorry.”

“One hundred,” Athos said with a satisfied grin.

--- Theodore’s POV ---

It had been satisfying to Theodore at first, finally seeing where his brother had ended up after all these years. It made sense that a dramatic attention whore like him would find himself on the arm of some rich narcissist.

And it quelled any inkling of worry he may have had, any small fear that Jasper had ended up dead on the streets. No, he was fine - dressed up in gold and jewels and lounging at the feet of someone who would never see him suffer. It was a degrading position to be in, of course, but there are much worse fates to be had.

Theodore had never been as smart as Jasper (as Ventis? Athos had called him Ventis. Did he change his name?). But he was still smart enough to pick up the ever growing clues as the night went on. The golden chains on his throat, wrists, and ankles weren’t just jewlery. They were shackles. An angry burn in the shape of Athos’s personal crest stood out starkly against Ventis’s skin. And then there was the way Athos and Father had talked so casually about flogging him.

It made Theodore’s skin crawl, the blatant display of abuse coming from Athos. He and Jasper had always been rivals but they were never enemies. The hatred was there but it was impure, laced with jealousy and begrudging respect and the tiniest moments of adoration. How could father look into the face of what Athos was doing to Jasper with so little care?

Theodore tried to banish the evening from his mind as they said their goodbyes and boarded a carriage to their next destination. Father would be leaving in the morning, but Theodore was to spend the next month studying in Nimbria, living under the roof of the city’s captain of guard, Richard Ventura. He had a son, apparently. A man named Onthyes who was a few years older than Theodore and undoubtedly a good influence.

He couldn’t let the revelation of what was happening to Jasper distract him from his duties here. After returning home he would be expected to finally take on a real political role in his kingdom. He needed to be ready. He couldn’t disappoint his father.

Onthyes was said to be disciplined and focused, a picture perfect eldest son and shoo-in for his father’s position someday. A man like him will surely help keep Theodore’s mind off of Jasper.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump @sleepyiswhumping

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dresden-syndrome · 3 months

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No idea if you're still doing the game but uhh drugging for it? Could be the traditional downer drugs like opium or maybe they give whumpee a stimulant for curiosity's/addiction's sake (@rottingollie in disguise hope this is ok)

Whumping in EESU: Drugging

Defiant whumpee getting drugged for the guards' convenience.

Interrogated whumpee, particularly one that already spent a lot of time in detention without signing a confession or giving much of the needed information, given a spiked drink before being taken to another interrogation.

Drug torture: a detained whumpee is given highly active drugs then, when withdrawal kicks in, offering the desired substance in exchange for information.

A drugged pet whumpee used as a party entertainment.

Test subject whumpee being given various kinds of drugs to study their effects; even after experiencing numerous painful side effects, whumpee is still forced to take the next drug.

Test subject whumpee sedated for a surgery or another long and painful procedure; they're still able to feel pain and discomfort but they can't struggle from it, can they?

Whumpers - detention unit medical team, ASR doctors, "property" owner and their comrades, just to name a few - bringing a needle colser to the restrained whumpee's skin, whispering "Shhh, it's for your own good..."

As the drug effect wears off, the whumpee wakes up in terror as they're tightly strapped to a surgical table.

A drugged whumpee kept in another EESU republic muttering random words and cries for help in their mother tongue.

Truth serum! Developing new interrogation drugs using class 4 offenders for clinical trials! Threatening detained whumpees with a mystery drug that can "make them tell everything"!

Drugs used for brainwashing, tested on class 4 lab rats from ASR.

A new drug appears in the streets. The government won't let it remain unknown for long; they have a lot of undercover State Security agents to take it, chemists to study its formula and the state enemies in their cells to study its effects on.

An owner sitting on the car backseat with their half-awake sedated "property", driving through a big government holiday military parade in the city; "Look, my little kitten, isn't it wonderful here? Everyone is celebrating for our peace and prosperity, praising our Supreme Commander, they're all so happy! What was the point for you to fight against us?"

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whumped4whumplover · 1 year

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Alternative Nightmare Trope

Okay so we all know the nightmare trope right? But. Imagine a conditioned pet Whumpee who gets forcefully taken away from Whumper (or rescued, if you'd like to see it from anyone's but Whumpee's eyes) and just wants to go back. Whumpee finds comfort in their nightmares because its the only time where they can relive their torture and be with Whumper. So when Caretaker wakes them up after finding them sobbing and screaming in their sleep, they don't understand why Whumpee always insists on leaving them alone and wanting to go back to sleep.

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abhainnwhump · 1 year

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This is a concept I can't get out of my head and I need to write it down so I don't put it in my draft where it wouldn't fit.

(Content warning: Pet whump, dehumanization, noncon body modification, therapy-can't-help-you-at-this-point Whumper)

Whumper wanted to dehumanize Whumpee as much as possible. They already force them to sleep in a dog bed, make them eat and drink from dog bowls, make them perform tricks, maybe even had them surgically altered, but that still isn't enough for this asshole Whumper.

They make them to only speak in barks/meows, whether by surgery, magic, or plain conditioning. The only way they can "talk" is through tones of voice. Whumper coos over how cute they are when they don't use words and bark when they're happy. Whumpee is so worn out that they just don't care, the praise is good.

After rescue, they need to relearn how to talk with words. Or maybe Caretaker finds a way to communicate through handle signals until/if they get to that point.

#pet whump #whump #pet whumpee #noncon surgery #whump tropes #whump writing #conditioned whumpee #conditioning whump #noncon body modification #mute whumpee #sort of #kitten whumpee #dog whumpee #sadistic whumper #fantasy whump #dehumanisation tw

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mentallyill-daydreamer · 10 months

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whumper waking up strapped to a chair bound by duck tape in a small, ominous, dimly lit room they've never seen before. Parallel to whumpee whom was holding an unsettlingly large knife.

"after all this time," a layer of sweat stuck to whumpees face and tears rolled down the sides of their tender bruised and beaten cheeks "I finally get my revenge, after all those months of torture and agony,"

Whumpee stepped closer to whumper, resting the cold sharp steel of the dagger against whumpers throat. "I get to make you feel the same terror I did every night, unable to sleep, or eat or drink. I get to make you plea for mercy as I did."

"you don't scare me." Whumper spat

"then why's your heart beating so fast?"

"cause you're kinda cute like this."

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watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees · 18 days

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Adopt, don’t shop - These celebrity boys believe in second chances

DISCLAIMER: any and all resemblance to One Direction and fanfiction about being sold to them is absolutely intentional and I wear it as a badge of honour

special thanks to @ziptiesnfries who came up with it

CW: sold to OneDirection trope reformulated into pet whump, dehumanisation, rescue shelter, abuse mention

Her heels clicked along the pristine white tiles of the corridor, as she walked in a strict straight line right in the middle, barely noticing the startled employees, who scurried to avoid getting in her way. She didn’t even bother to look up from her phone, until she got to the glass door at the end of the hallway, and even then she just glanced to her front to find the doorknob and push the door in.

A small bell rang just above her head, signalling her presence. Not like she needed it, Diana was surrounded by a powerful aura that was hard to ignore for even the most careless person. Her bright red hair, perfectly manicured long nails that matched in colour contrasted with her signature bright green jacket. She would’ve been hard on the eyes, hadn’t she carried herself with such poise and an outrageous amount of professionally applied makeup.

“Good evening Miss” The employee greeted her, standing up behind the counter with a smile plastered on, in an attempt to conceal her unease at TV-personality’s sight “How can I assist you today? Our shelter is grateful to have you on the premises, if we could-”

“I don’t have time for this” she raised a hand, silencing the poor employee on an instant. She didn’t even look up, just continued typing with one hand “I need one of those pets, a pretty one, and quick”

“Of course, of course” she rambled “I would be happy to show you around and find one suitable for your needs. You need to know, this is a rescue shelter-” but she was cut off again.

“Yeah, yeah, rescue shelter, if I didn’t know I wouldn’t be here” she raised her voice a bit “It will raise our engagement to the skies, so just bring me a pretty one!” Diana huffed, exasperated by the incompetence of the employee. She thought the same way about a lot of people.

The employee, stood for a moment, trying to evaluate whether it was the time to stand up for herself, but it wasn’t, so she hurried to the back. The pets were kept in state-sanctioned enclosures, cages really, with only a small cot and a bucket in most of them. She sometimes wondered if they truly are rescuing these people. Pets. She had to correct herself again. She looked around with a sigh, trying to figure out what a high-profile client than Diana Young look for in a pet. Bring a pretty one, it echoed in her ear.

It was a rather quiet day in the back, a few pets sat on their beds, curled up by the wall and rested, they raised their heads as she walked by, they just acknowledged her presence not expecting her to actually come for them.

She stopped turned around at the end of the row of cages and walked back, inspecting the people kept on the other side of the corridor. It was a hard decision. They had been there long enough for her to get a tad bit attached, she thought a lot about adopting one of them.

Her eyes settled on the scrawny boy in the second to last enclosure.

His hair used to always be in his face, covering his eyes from the prying eyes of potential adopters. It’s been a process, but she got him to let her tie it up.

“Oliver” she called to him softly, as she unlocked the cage. He looked up with an angry frown.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“There’s a lady here, interested in you” she answered, as she unclipped a leash that she kept attached to her belt to have on hand, and just stood there waiting for him to walk up to her.

“Really?” Oliver brightened up at that. He had been there for way too long and the inability to do anything about his state was killing him. He had been removed from his previous home for alleged abuse, which he didn’t quite understand. Good pets learn from punishments don’t they? Besides his owners were a nice family with two kids, the occasional beating for messing up was didn’t make his list of priorities to worry about. The first few days he was at the shelter he spent crying.

He remembered Johannah tried really hard to sooth him and make him as hopeful and comfortable as she could. She was the most active volunteer at the shelter managing the front desk most days. He didn’t make her job easy.

And now she was standing in front of him with a leash that would lead him to freedom. He regretted his initial reaction. He didn’t want to part with the kind woman on bad terms.

“I’m sorry” he muttered to her as he walked up and lifted his chin for her to attach the leash to his collar.

“No worries” she sighed, with a soft smile. He attempted to smile back and it earned him a pat on the shoulder “I have something for you” she blurted out, her mind just catching up with her.

He looked at Johanna curiously, as she reached into one of the many pockets of her cargo trousers and pulled out a little black band.

“Here, make yourself pretty” Oliver took the elastic and attempted to tie his hair up in a bun as she taught him. It turned out a lot messier than how she would’ve done it, but neither of them minded.

“Let’s go” She smiled at him and fixed a few strands before heading back to the front desk area.

Diana was tapping her shoe impatiently, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. It was a rare sight to see her with her eyes actually looking away from her phone. Johannah swallowed thickly, as she entered the room with Oliver in tow, who looked perplexed at the sight of the woman.

“I don’t have all day” she exclaimed, stepping up to the desk and picking up the pen that had the shelter’s logo printed on it, clicking it once so she could sign any document that she needed to get this over with. She only spared a glance in Oliver’s way and nodded timidly “He will do”

“His name is Oliver, he is 23 years old, he comes from-”

“Whatever, where do I sign?” Johannah sighed, this time loud with annoyance. She could be sued for not providing all information of the rescue to the prospective owner, and Diana couldn’t care less.

She pushed a stack of papers in front of her, pointing at the line at the bottom.

“Do you acknowledge that-”

“Sure, sure” Diana flipped through the pages, leaving her signature on each one.

“Miss Young, would you be interested in donating to one of these charities supporting our shelter?”

They were already out the door. She dragged Oliver behind her at a steady pace, exiting the building and right into the car that parked right by the entrance, which he was pretty sure happened to be illegal.

They sat on the two sides of the backseats, he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do. She signalled to the driver to go, then leaned back in her seat typing away on her phone.

Oliver decided to look around town while they sat in the car. Nothing seemed familiar around the streets they drove through, he wasn’t even sure if he was in the same city he used to call home.

“What was your name again?”

“Oliver, miss” he replied softly, worried that he’d anger his new owner.

“Oh, no sweetheart” she laughed, the tapping of her nails on the buttons of the phone never seemed to stop “I’m just Diana to you” He really did try to catch her attention even for a moment, looking extremely confused as he provided no other context to him, but she didn’t bother to look his way again until the end of the car ride.

“What are you waiting for?” Diana yelled, as she got out of the car slamming the door shut, not wasting time waiting for Oliver. He felt awkward as he got out, in the empty parking garage they stopped in, even though noone saw him. His leash dangled in front of him, as he rushed after the woman, who had already made her way to the elevator a few metres away from where the driver parked.

She glanced down and grabbed the collar with a sigh as they waited for the door to open.

“Okay, listen, I’ll only explain once” she started with a strict tone. Oliver’s eyes promised to drink every single word of hers up “I manage a band, I don’t expect you to know them,” she added condescendingly before she continued “Our engagement has fallen a great deal the past few months, even though they just went on tour and the new album dates ‘have been leaked,’ so we’re jumping on this movement with rescue pets and such” Oliver nodded, pretending to understand. They stepped in the elevator.

She spoke way too fast for him to keep up, explaining phenomena he felt like he had never even heard before. The kids at his old family were still way too young for boy bands and so he had never encountered such a thing before.

“You’ll be in front of camera’s a lot, we need the publicity, and when they don’t need you, you’ll be helping me out. Clear?”

Oliver felt his stomach do a double backflip as he heard about being in front of the public eye. He never even liked leaving the house, he wasn’t suited for that sort of thing. What will he even do?

The doors opened after a loud beep letting them know the elevator reached the desired floor. They arrived on another floor of the parking garage, with only one vehicle taking place in the middle parked across three spaces. It was a bus, with it’s windows blocked out with the enormous painting that took up one whole side, that read 2WayStreet in blaring red letters. Diana stepped out, dragging him along, which he miserably noted will be a common occurrence from now on.

She knocked on the door twice, only warning the occupants about their arrival before entering.

“Adopt don’t shop - These celebrity boys believe in second chances” The following week the headlines were plastered all over their pages, the newspaper and they even got a mention on national television. The stunt was working as intended, engagement increased by 35%, Diana acknowledged it, which was her equivalent of a normal person feeling victorious over a groundbreaking achievement. They can do even better, buying Oliver was one of her best ideas so far.

#whump #whump writing #whump community #pet whump #whump tropes #dehumanisation tw #idk if I can tag this as oc whump but technically I came up with other names for characters so #oc whump

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mottinthepot · 11 months

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Art I did for my CYOA G/t whump story!!

Chapter - Masterlist

#g/t art #tw broken arm #pet trope #pet whump #giant tiny #g/t #Hamster interactive story #whump art #hamster #ashley #artists on tumblr #breezys ocs

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pendarling · 1 year

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If I do get banned it's because of this. It's just for writing I swear.

🖤𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 Whump // Whumper x Whumpee For Your 🆂🅸🅲🅺 Heart🖤

18+ ONLY Minors DNI

C/TW: sexual abuse, general abuse, manipulation, CNC, dub-con, torture, Don't read if you don't think you can take it, the title is a giveaway

Kissing Whumpee after every torture session

Leaving burn marks or slicing Whumpee in a way that imprints their name onto them

"Good boy/girl, just like that..."

Collars with or without shock

Not letting Whumpee wear any undergarments so they take them at any point

Whumpers that love to watch their Whumpee sleep

Torturing Whumpee and mid-way realizing how pretty their screams sound

"You like that, don't you?" "N-no..." "You do!"

When Whumper gives them the option to stay in the basement and endure torture or come to bed with them and eat something warm

Whumpers that make their Whumpee wear something sexually suggestive on purpose

"Easy, easy, I won't hurt you this time. Just relax."

Whumpers that originally kidnapped because they had a jealous hatred for Whumpee but over time developed an obsession

"My dear, have I told you how lovely you look under me like that?~"

Whumpers that shower/bathe, groom, and dress Whumpee; gently removing any dirt and complimenting their ability to handle pain

Whumpers that become just really bad caretakers

~~~

MASTERLIST

#writing prompt #whump #whumpee #whumper #whumper x whumpee #intimate whumper #pet whump #whump tropes #whump dialogue #whump ideas #tw abuse #pendarling try not to get banned challenge #whumpee x whumper #caretaker x whumpee #bad caretaker #bad caretaker x whumpee #whumper turned caretaker

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 5 months

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dehumanized pet whumpee. whumpee with a shock collar with their new name on it. whumpee forced to say thank you whenever whumper is hurting them. I’m really fixated on the collar/leashes thing. Like whumpee getting chained somewhere by the neck for hours and then being told they’ll be able to leave once they beg for food/water. Whumpee who’s whumper forces them to walk on all fours and drags them around by the leash wether or not they’re walking with whumper. Good dog/bad dog. Whumpeee forced to eat out of whumpers hand, whumpee who gets forced to stay up for days on end with the shock collar. Pet whump gives me brainworms

I don’t have anything to add to this because you’ve already captured it all. so. yes to every single word you’ve said.

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kabie-whump · 3 months

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✧･ﾟRipe, About to Fall - Part 8 ✧･ﾟ

This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.

Title from ‘Liquid Smooth’ by Mitski

Series

First | Previous

Chapter Summary: Onthyes goes home. Ventis faces his punishment.

Chapter Content: Drug withdrawals, head injury, domestic abuse, character death mentions (Ventis still thinks Onthyes is dead), branding aftermath

Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I know you’ve never been smart,” Onthyes’s father muttered, his fingers pinching his brow. “But fucking your boss’s pet? Are you deranged?”

Onthyes winced as his father’s physician dabbed at the wound on the back of his head with a damp cloth that smelled strongly of herbs and alcohol. Early morning light shone through the curtains, making a throbbing pressure grow behind his eyes. It had still been dark when he’d woken up in that alley with a head wound and stumbled back to his father’s place where he had to partake in the harrowing ordeal of telling the man what had happened.

His father seemed more concerned with the fact that Onthyes had lost his job and angered one of the most important men in the city than the fact that he was injured.

“I told you. We didn’t… do that. I never touched him.”

“No. You just decided to steal him away in the night. What were you going to do next? Sell him? Keep him for yourself?”

“You don’t understand, father. I was trying to help him. He was being abused. He wasn’t happy.”

“It was not your place to intervene.”

“I couldn’t just stand by-”

“Enough!”.

Onthyes’s mouth clamped shut.

“I need to start cleaning up the mess you made. Our reputation is salvageable, although you should lay low for a while. Get out of my sight.”

The physician finished cleaning and bandaging Onthyes’s head, and Onthyes found himself wandering into his bedroom. It had been years since he’d last slept in this room. It was just as tidy as he’d left it, and he could tell someone had dusted the furniture recently.

Onthyes sat down on the bed, rubbing his temples with a groan. The events of last night were fuzzy in his memory, but he remembered important little snippets.

Holding hands and sharing nervous smiles with Ventis as they snuck off into the night. A brush of cold lips against his. Then Athos. Always Athos.

Ventis was gone, surely back under Athos’s thumb, probably being punished. And Onthyes had to live with the knowledge that whatever Athos was doing to Ventis was his fault.

If only he could’ve just minded his own business. Played the part of a good house guard without getting distracted by the nearest pretty boy with sad eyes. If only he wasn’t bound by this stupid fucking hero complex.

“Onthyes?”

Onthyes looked up as his mother entered his bedroom, still looking just as young and graceful as she had the day he was born, unlike his father. His father bragged about her all the time; about how no matter how old he got she would always be the beautiful young elf on his arm. There was always resentment in her eyes when he said those things, but still she stayed.

She sat on the bed next to Onthyes and pulled him into a hug, his head on her chest. “It is so good to have you home,” she said into his curls. “But I heard about the circumstances of your return. Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Let me see.”

Onthyes turned, sitting still and quiet while his mother pulled the bandages aside and examined his wound. Her fingers were warm when she touched it and whispered the familiar words of a healing spell. His headache receded.

“Your father tells me you tried to steal Athos Landleigh’s slave. Is that true?”

“Not steal,” Onthyes corrected. “Only objects can be stolen. I was trying to free him.”

His mother’s smile was full of warmth as he turned to face her again. “It was a brave thing to do. I am very proud of you.”

Onthyes shook his head. “I failed. Athos took him back. I probably made things much worse for him.”

His mother’s brow furrowed. “You’ve only failed if you’ve decided to give up. Are you giving up?”

“No.”

She laid a hand on his cheek. “That’s my little hero.”

✧･ﾟ Ventis’s POV ✧･ﾟ

Ventis rarely dreamed but he did that night. Onthyes’s face. Onthyes’s hands. Onthyes’s lips.

Onthyes was the first thing on his mind when he woke the morning after his failed escape attempt. Ventis had kissed him. He didn’t know why he did it, just that he had felt for the first time in years that he actually wanted to kiss someone and he’d acted on that urge. The kiss had been a tiny, fragile thing, but maybe it could have been more. If only they hadn’t been caught. Maybe Onthyes had been Ventis’s one chance of ever experiencing real love.

But he was dead now. He had to be. Ventis couldn’t imagine a reality in which Athos let such a transgression slide.

Onthyes was dead and it was all Ventis’s fault.

His back exploded with pain as bandages were peeled away. He’d been so caught up in his own mind he hadn’t even realized that it had been the feeling of being rolled over and the blankets being removed that had woken him.

Ventis let out a cry, trying to pull away from the source of the pain.

“Now, treasure. You know how unloved it makes me feel when you fight. Hold still please.” Athos’s hand landed on his hip, holding him in place as he continued to clean the brand on his back. It hurt so much worse today than it had last night. Probably because there had still been nightspill in his system last night, dulling at least some of the sensation.

Nightspill. He needed it. The familiar ache of withdrawal was already settling on top of him.

“Master,” Ventis whined as Athos redressed his wound. “Please.”

“What is it darling? Do you need something?”

Ventis peeked his face out from where he’d been hiding it in his pillow. Was he kidding? Athos administered nightspill for him every single morning. Sure, it was unusual that they’d ended up sleeping in Ventis’s room instead of Athos’s, but it was still part of their routine.

“My medicine,” Ventis reminded him. “It’s time.”

“Hm. I’m sorry, pet. After your little stunt last night I was under the impression you didn’t want me to provide for you anymore.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. Ventis would have been naive to assume that someone as petty as Athos wouldn’t seek retribution aside from the brand he’d already given him.

“I am sorry,” Ventis said, sitting up slowly in an effort to not upset his back. “I regret it. I will not do it again.”

“Too late.”

The coldness in Athos’s voice made Ventis flinch. “Master-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I have been lenient with you the past few years because you earned it by being so well behaved. My trust and affection are privileges that you have now lost. You will have to work to get them back.”

Ventis didn’t want Athos’s affection back. He didn’t want any of this. But what he wanted and what he needed didn’t always agree, and he needed nightspill.

“I understand,” Ventis said, doing his best to keep his voice soft and even despite the way his thoughts screamed at him to fight. “But please, I need my medicine. You know what happens when I don’t take it.”

Already Ventis could feel lightning crackling through his veins, threatening to escape him without warning. If left unchecked, his storm magic would tear this mansion to the ground.

Maybe he should just let it happen.

“It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’ve got it covered. Come now, we’ve slept in long enough.”

By midday, Ventis was back in his usual place, lounging at his master’s feet while the man held court with some business partners in one of his sitting rooms. His wrist was decorated with a new piece of jewelry, locked into place and engraved with runes that glowed every time his magic threatened to surge to the surface. These moments of suppression brought on waves of dizzying pain, but the pain faded into the background when compared to everything else.

The burn throbbed angrily on Ventis’s back, making itself known any time he shifted. And the lack of nightspill in his system left him painfully aware of his surroundings. Every light was too bright. Every sound was too loud. He flinched at the slightest touch, something which Athos seemed to find some sort of sick enjoyment in and made a point of provoking as much as he could.

Ventis wanted - needed - to be blissfully numb again. Unfiltered reality was just too overwhelming. Too painful.

Ventis leaned his head back on Athos’s knee, suppressing a sob. His skin was beaded with sweat and he couldn’t stop shivering. It didn’t help that whatever these men were discussing was so painfully boring. There was nothing to keep him distracted.

“Is your companion alright, Athos?” one of the droning voices asked. “He looks…”

Shit. Athos had trained Ventis to walk a thin line, keeping a careful balance between being an elegant addition to Athos’s grandeur and not being a distraction. He was supposed to be admired, but never the center of attention unless Athos presented him as such.

This was not the sort of attention he was supposed to draw.

Athos’s hand found Ventis’s hair, stroking in what seemed to be an affectionate gesture at first but quickly became a painful fist in his hair. Ventis gasped, then bit down on his lip.

“Pay him no mind,” Athos said dismissively. “He’s just begging for attention. He’s fine. Aren’t you, pet?”

Ventis swallowed hard as another wave of pain left him lightheaded and burning hot. He could hardly focus on staying upright, let alone forming words. “Yes master,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.

Athos’s hand squeezed harder, turning Ventis’s face in the direction of the man who had spoken. “Apologize for the disruption.”

I can’t do this. I’m going to pass out.

“S-Sorry.”

“Manners, pet.”

“I am sorry for the disruption, sir.” Hopefully no one noticed the tears that filled his eyes as he stumbled over the words.

The meeting resumed once again and Ventis was glad to have the attention turned away from his condition. He was usually so good at pretending to be alright, but without nightspill to keep his emotions at bay it only got progressively harder not to scream with every new wave of pain. By the time the meeting ended Ventis was barely conscious, shaking hard as he leaned his full weight against Athos’s legs.

Once the others had left Ventis tilted his head back so he could stare up at Athos with pleading eyes. “Please,” he croaked. “I can’t do this. I’m gonna die.”

Athos gave no indication he’d even heard Ventis, and Ventis finally broke down crying.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump @sleepyiswhumping

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smolgloves · 1 year

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Engulfed

"Are you okay?"

The booming voice above Stella caused the sharp pain in her head to throb with intensity. She looked up to see Clair's gaze had fallen onto her, concern had filled her blue eyes. The past few days, Stella had been getting migraines; normally, she was able to power through the day without anyone else noticing, but today was just too much to deal with. Whether it was Jason clanging pots around as he cooked dinner, or James and Charlie getting too excited about how their day in school went, or the chair scraping at the floor as everyone came for dinner. There was nothing Stella could do to hide herself from cringing at each sound that decided to instigate her migraines.

"I'm… fine." She squeaked, but Clair pursed her lips and raised a brow. It was a look that Stella had seen her do a thousand times on her sons when they tried to fib their way out of trouble, now the motherly expression was being pressed down upon Stella. Her eyes shifted away from Clair but it was too late, the guilt was already setting in and Stella could not stay tight lipped for much longer. "I think I'm getting a migraine."

The realization immediately clicked in as Clair glanced around the kitchen and living room to hear dishes being washed and the boys cheering on as they progressed through their video games. Suddenly, the environment looked a lot more chaotic for a human with a migraine. A gentle hand inched towards Stella and laid flat on the table, Clair gave a soft smile. "Let's get you out of here."

Stella crawled onto Clair's palm and buried her face into her arm to block the light from her eyes. Fingers curled around her small body and engulfed the human in a warm darkness that muffled out the racket of the world. Each step was soft and made Stella sway like she was on a boat in gentle waters. The moment didn't last long as Clair's fingers uncurled around her and deposited her on a plush surface. The tiny woman sat up to view her new surroundings, she was resting on a pillow that sat on Clair and Jason's bed. The noises felt distant as the door to their room was shut, although it still was loud enough to continue the dull pain in Stella's head.

Clair grabbed a bottle of pills that was on the nightstand. The sound of them clattering inside the container caused Stella to grimace. "Sorry." Clair whispered as she fished out a pill out as quietly as she could. Breaking off a small piece that would be suitable for a human, then she grabbed the half empty water bottle from the same nightstand and opened it to use the bottle cap as a make-shift cup for Stella. Once she had the supplies together, she offered it to her tiny friend and let her take her medicine.

"Thanks." The human breathed out.

"Of course." Clair whispered. "You're always welcome to ask for help from us."

"I know," Stella wrapped her arms around herself. "It's just… still not easy to do that."

"I get it," Clair brought a fingertip out and stroked the tiny woman's arm. "Just know that you're a part of our family now, and you're not going to burden us by asking for some Advil."

Stella smiled as she leaned into the touch, and she began to relax enough to sink back down into the pillow. Clair withdrew her hand and began to shuffle away from the bed to give Stella some time to rest.

"W…wait." Stella chirped up just before Clair could reach for the doorknob. "Can I… ask you a favor?"

"Of course."

"Could you… maybe stay and keep your hand over me again? Just until my migraine goes away." Stella stammered as she shifted her eyes away from Clair's gaze. "I think being engulfed in a hand kind of… soothes my headache."

"Absolutely." A smile reached up to Clair as she strolled back to the bed to lay down on the open spot beside Stella. Her hand snaked its way up to the girl who was curled up on the pillow and covered her like a blanket. "I'll stay here as long as you want."

A sigh escaped Stella's lips as the world around her grew dark and the chaotic world outside sounded like it was miles away from the small woman. No longer could it agitate the migraine that was already fading away from Stella, along with her consciousness.

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