#who's the real whumpee here?

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

🎃➷ 13 Scary Prompts for Friday the 13th ☾ 𓆩☻𓆪ੈ✩

1. whumpee is trapped in a dark forest with caretaker or whumper (your choice). doesn’t matter if they’re friends or enemies, they both have to work together to find a way out before midnight, because that’s when it awakes and begins to hunt.

2. two characters who are enemies are trapped in an abandoned asylum. they soon learn they aren’t alone in the building; or, patients who are locked up here — when the staff suddenly fled one day — are in fact murderous cannibals.

3. characters throw a Friday the 13th party, everything goes well until someone — an old friend — shows up, an old friend who’s been dead for years.

4. there’s a myth that goes “something bad will happen within 7 days if you kiss someone under the moon on Friday the 13th”. character A and B think it’s bullshit and do exactly that. they’re about to find out the hard way that the myth — the curse — is real.

5. whumpee gets killed on Friday the 13th and wakes up amongst the dead, all of them have also been murdered on Friday the 13th.

6. whumpee is kidnapped. in order to save their life, caretaker has to kill 13 people before midnight of Friday the 13th.

7. on the night of Friday the 13th, caretaker finds a black stray cat at their front porch and decides to adopt the cat. it must be a coincidence that people in the neighborhood start disappearing after this mysterious cat shows up.

8. every Friday the 13th, character A is visited by a ghost who claims to be their lover from the past life. the ghost can only communicate with them when it’s Friday the 13th.

9. character A is immortal… unless they died on Friday the 13th. their enemies know this. so all character A has to do is stay alive until midnight, easier said than done. it doesn’t help that they happen to have a lot of enemies.

10. character A is cursed, so every Friday the 13th, they will be possessed by a demonic entity whose goals are death and destruction of innocent people. to try to prevent this, character A has to chain themself up and lock themself inside their house. but the devil is smart.

11. the purge. I don’t need to say more, but every Friday the 13th, murder and all type of crimes are legal in this town.

12. a group of tourists visit a small village located deep in the woods. it’s a lovely, peaceful village with nice villagers. only that they all turn into bloodthirsty murderers every Friday the 13th at nighttime. too bad our tourists don’t know about this, they’ll find out soon enough though.

13. Character A summons a demon on a dare. they don’t expect it to work, but it does. only character A can see the demon, turns out it just lonely and wants a friend.

#friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #whump #writing #writeblr #writing community #writing inspo #ao3 #writing inspiration #whumpblr #angst #writing tropes #writing trope #whump tropes #whump trope #tropes #trope #writer #archive of our own #writing ideas #writing prompt #writing prompts #angst tropes #angst trope #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump community #writers

[a-living-canvas]

Slipping away

"Whumpee?"

Whumpee's ears perked up. That's Whumper's voice. Calling for…who? For them? But, that's not their name. Maybe Whumper is on the phone with someone. Better not to disturb them. Whumpee continued cleaning the floor with a broom.

"Whumpee?"

Again. Who's…Whumpee??? They never heard that name before. They don't even like how the name ring to their ears. It's not suited for someone like them. It's more suited to someone with a happy and cheery personality.

Whumper sighed. "Whumpee, fucking come here now…"

Whumpee stayed still at their spot. Whumper let out a frustrated groan before they walked over to Whumpee. The disdain in their eyes was clear as day. They grabbed Whumpee's collar harshly,

"I called for you and you have the nerve to ignore me?!" Whumper tighten their hold. Whumpee looked up at them in confusion. Whumper was... calling for them?

"I-I'm sorry…I…I didn't know…"

Whumper raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know what?" Whumpee's lips trembled in fear. "That you were calling f-for…for me…" Long silence as Whumper stared at Whumpee's face intently. "You…didn't know?" Whumpee shook their head. 

"No…"

"Huh..." Whumper let go of Whumpee's collar and stepped back. They were not sure whether they should be proud or not that they managed to make Whumpee forgot their own name. All those pet names really got into them, huh?

"Whumpee, what is your name?" Whumper inquired. Reading Whumpee's expression and body language silently. They saw them hesitating for a moment. 

Why does Whumper keep calling me that? Whumpee blinked their eyes a few times. "Why do you call me—"

"Just answer the question, sweetheart."

Whumpee pondered for a few seconds. They were not sure what answer could satisfy their owner. Whumper raised their eyebrows when Whumpee lifted their head and looked at them.

"Um...pet?" 

Whumper chuckled, "Your name is 'pet'? Are you for real?"

Whumpee fidgeted with their fingers in slight panic. "T-then, darling? O-or sweetheart? Um…slave? Stupid little thing—"

"Shh…darling. You know those aren't your name. Try again, dear." Whumper leaned back on the sink behind them, watching Whumpee struggling to remember their own name. Their lips formed a small, comforting smile that let Whumpee knows that they won't be punished even if they got it wrong again.

Silence enveloping them for a long moment. Whumper sighed, still smiling as they walked towards Whumpee. "You don't know, right? Your name…" Whumper leaned down so their face would meet Whumpee's directly. "Or you can't remember it, hm?"

Whumpee's fingers curled up slightly. They really couldn't remember it, their own name. How awful is that? Almost like they never had one before. Whumpee shook their head,

"I-I can't…"

Whumper cupped Whumpee's face, looking at their eyes. With a gentle tone, Whumper said,

"Then, let me ask you again…" Whumper smiled. "What is your name, Whumpee?" Whumper let their words sank into Whumpee's mind for a moment. Enjoying the look on their face as their eyes widen in realisation. "O-oh…"

Whumpee swallowed, "...Whumpee is my…name." Whumper nodded as they looked at them proudly before they kissed their cheek.

"Correct, ten marks for my baby." 

Whumper stood up straight again, ruffling Whumpee's hair. "So, if I called you by your name again, would you come for me?" Whumpee immediately nodded.

"Y-yes, Master…"

Whumper grabbed their face before squeezing Whumpee's cheeks. "No ignoring me again? You promise me that?"

"I-I promise…!"

"Good. Now, continue doing your job. No slacking off, slave." 

"Y-yes, Master!"

Whumper left Whumpee alone in the kitchen. They continued their work but this time, they couldn't stop smiling from joy. They really have a name. Whumpee kept repeating it for the rest of the day, scared of forgetting it again.

#whumblr #whump community #whump writing #intimate/creepy whumper #whump drabble #whumplr #intimate whumper #whumpee #whump

[vexingwoman]

hi sorry (one of the previous wumph anons): this is completely random and there’s no need to answer this but… you said you got a lot of anons on the topic. What was the general consensus on the whole phenomenon among them?

Just to contextualize this ask: I recently mentioned how the whump community (known for romanticizing the extreme anguish, torture, and trauma of fictional characters) has an abnormally high amount of members who identify as trans men. And more interestingly, that almost all the characters whose anguish this community romanticizes are male as well. Many radical feminists have subsequently discussed why this might be.

I can’t say there is much of a consensus at all. Most theories I received as to why this community almost exclusively romanticizes the anguish of male characters were vastly different, and at times, outright contradictory. However, here are the most common ones:

-It’s a homoerotic fetish. This is an obvious and uncomplicated conclusion to draw; most members of the whump community are simply girls who fetishize male homoerotic dynamics. This effectively explains why the whumpee, the whumper, and even the caretaker are most frequently all male characters.

-Readers have too much compassion for female victims. Many radfems expressed that female anguish is too reflective of reality—especially considering most whump themes are forms of abuse that, outside of fiction, females are the primary victims of. The result is an uncomfortable degree of realism in which female readers may involuntarily project themselves onto the victimized female character. Therefore, replacing the victimized female character with a male helps to dilute the degree of realism and create a necessary distance between the reader and character.

-Readers lack compassion for female victims. Other radfems including myself feel that whump consumers fixate on male victimization because female victimization is expected, eroticized, and trivialized—meaning, female-coded anguish is only recognized as horrifying and emotionally compelling when experienced by a male character. Essentially, female victimization titillates the audience, but male victimization is treated rightfully as a horrific and traumatic incident. Thus, the appeal for male victims is an obvious conclusion; only then is trauma and violence treated as it should and only then is the victim truly treated as a victim.

-Male victims are an intriguing reversal of gendered expectations. Self-explanatory. A handful of radfems stated that seeing a male character in a vulnerable, victimizing, or compromising situation might be an intriguing reversal to the assertive and combative male character archetype. This is a convenient answer, except that it fails to explain why the abuser (or whumper) in these scenarios is still male and not female, considering that a female abuser would also constitute as an intriguing reversal of gendered expectations.

-Male characters are generally more compelling. Again, some radfems have stated that male characters are simply better written, but I find this another highly convenient yet fallacious theory. In my opinion, this is an oversimplified analysis in which female readers fail to consider how deeply, unconsciously, and invisibly their internalized misogyny actually runs, and instead choose to project that internalized misogyny onto the author. I elaborate more on this here.

-Male victims are vicarious revenge for misogyny. This was the rarest and most conflicting answer. Only three radfems expressed that seeing male characters in victimizing situations operates as a form of imagined revenge for either the male character’s machismo or the machismo of real-life men. This is unconvincing not only because of the obvious fact that female readers adore these victimized male characters, but also because the main appeal of this genre appears to be sympathizing and rooting for the male victim. An anonymous asker articulated the issue with this theory quite nicely:

In conclusion, it’s a highly controversial but fascinating discussion. I’ve enjoyed everyone’s commentary so far, even if I disagree with some of it. And I’ve tagged all posts related to this discussion under #whump on my account, in case you want to read through them and form your own opinion.

#radical feminism #radblr #misogny #sexism #whump #whump community #answered asks

[secret-whump-basement]

Caretaker-turned-whumpers who are SO deep in denial

They're doing everything for Whumpee's good! It's in their best interest that they be tied up to the bed, otherwise they might break something during one of their episodes and hurt themselves. A little slap here or there for discipline's sake never killed anyone, Whumpee still needs to behave. Exposing them to triggers is only going to build up their mental resilience! And of course Whumpee is in no real mental state to make decisions for themselves so it's for the best that someone else handle it all for a while. Caretaker only wants them to get better!

#atlas posts #whump scenario #whump prompt #whumpblr #whump #caretaker prompts #bad caretaker #sighs dreamily....betrayal of trust....

[whumpshaped]

love the idea of multiple whumpees, but whumpee A has been there much longer than whumpee B, and is pretty much already a broken husk by the time B even gets there.

A just sort of stares vacantly ahead whenever whumper isn't directly demanding their attention, so lifeless that B would have thought they were dead if they couldn't see them blinking and breathing.

initially, B keeps their distance from A, unnerved by how completely and utterly broken they seemed. but as their captivity continues, they become so desperate for the touch of someone who won't harm them that they snuggle up to A whenever they can, and talk to them about all their worries and idle thoughts, even though they never say anything back and B wonders if they even hear them at all.

maybe B's company starts to bring A back to reality, ever so slowly. or maybe B is just clinging for emotional support to someone who's well and truly gone.

(these are just placeholder names not real ocs. arin and bee are stand ins for character a and b)

tw multiple whumpees, lady whumpee, fear of death, captivity, past trauma, beating, conditioning, dehumanisation, attacked by animals (referenced)

“I thought they’d never stop,” Bee whispered, hugging her only friend tighter. “They were so angry. They said they’d kill me, and… and I believed them. I thought I was done for. I thought that was the end of the rope for me.”

As usual, Arin didn’t respond. She stared at the ceiling, looking like she hadn’t even heard her. The only reason Bee was sure Arin could hear at all was because she responded to commands from their captor. 

Bee knew all that she knew about Arin through their captor, actually. The poor thing had never spoken a word in her presence before, not to introduce herself, not to protest when she hugged her, nothing. She never even responded to Darian, and they didn’t seem to mind or be disturbed by it, so maybe this was normal. Maybe it wasn’t the trauma that stole her voice away. Bee would never know, it seemed like, unless she felt suicidal enough to question Darian about it.

“I don’t know what made them change their mind in the end… Maybe they just got tired of hitting me. I don’t know. I scurried out of there as soon as they left an opening, and they just didn’t follow.” 

Sometimes she felt bad for dumping all this on Arin. She’d clearly gone through a lot to have ended up so… hollow. So utterly unresponsive, even to slapping and kicking. Darian barely even punished her, probably because there was no sign of it changing anything. Arin never apologised, never made a sound, and never changed her behaviour. She was perfectly obedient to begin with, and any mistake she made that was worthy of a punishment was the result of nothing but accidents. There was nothing to change.

And the thing was — Bee had no one else. Arin was her only companion, the only one to talk to who didn’t hurt her for it. It was a little like talking to her favourite plush toy, as mean as that sounded. It brought her immense comfort in a place where she knew nothing but suffering.

“I… Maybe I’m dumb for running back here instead of trying the front door. It could’ve been unlocked this time, and I’d never know.” She nuzzled against Arin, tears pricking her eyes. “But I thought— I thought, ‘I have to protect Arin. I can’t just try to leave, and, and leave her with this angry monster’. So I ran back here.” 

Honestly, Bee knew there was nothing for her outside. There were fields, woods… Darian’s hunting dogs. She’d tried to run before; the bites had left some nasty scars on her legs, not to mention the pain that she’d learned to live with since then.

She sighed and pulled away. “You know—” She stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. “Arin?”

Arin was looking straight at her, big, usually empty eyes now filled with tears and sorrow beyond measure. She looked… touched. Was it the story? Was it that she’d come back, trying to protect her?

“Oh, sweetheart.” Bee pulled her right back into an embrace, not even bothering with questions. Arin looking at her might’ve been the biggest step she’d taken towards interacting with her so far, but Bee had no illusions about the future of their relationship. Arin wasn’t just going to start monologuing. “Of course I came back. Of course. I’ll always come back for you.”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #multiple whumpees #lady whumpee #fear of death #captivity #past trauma #beating #conditioning #dehumanisation #attacked by animals #comfort

[whumpsoda]

Seeing Me in You - A Real Name

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker,

——————

“You been thinking about names?” Isaac asked, flopping down on the couch. Smiling, her hands folded over each other casually in her lap as she gazed expectantly to her pet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied with the softest of a nod. She had ordered him days before to come up with names for himself, a strange request. A master would want to be the one to name their pet, would they not? Weren’t those the rules?

“Got any in mind? Any you like?”

“No, ma’am.” 

Her face dropped a smidge in disappointment, churning a quease in his belly, before she jumped back to her feet. “Give me just one second.” Stepping to the short shelf pushed against the opposite wall, she studied the titles intently, before pulling one out with excitement.

“Here’s some names. A whole book of ‘em.” Isaac announced, flipping to the first page of the thick book, filled to the brim with them, “Edith uses this one all the time, and pretty much all’ve our rescues pick one from in here. I’ll read some out to you, and maybe you’ll hear one you like.”

She recited each and every one in the order they were listed in, looking to him after each name. It was almost as if she wanted his approval, such a foreign concept that 253719 didn’t understand. Though, it was usual for him not to understand her, the other masters, or any of the out of line pets around him.

“Abraham? Arthur? Atticus?” She listed, turning to him with her tender, kind smile that meant even though things were weird, he wasn’t being bad. 

“Whatever pleases you, Master.” He had merely replied after every look, the safe answer he held close to his heart. Nearly was he not even listening, mind wandering to emptiness as he kneeled on the rug beside her. But she continued still, not satisfied with it. With him. 

Until one name.

“August?” She inquired, and he perked up, the lightest of a glimmer in his eye. He recognized August. Isaac chuckled, giving him a sweet pet to the head that he leaned eagerly into. “You like that one?”

He didn’t like it necessarily, a pet didn’t like, but his master did.

Fall was his master’s favorite season, where all of the magically vibrant colored leaves would fly through the chill turning air. The month of August fell during fall, right? He could have sworn it did. 

252719 remembered his master repeating his statement of likeness every year as they sat together on the porch, 252719 kneeling beside him as he smoked. I just love fall, such a pleasant time, he would say, a rare smile strung over his lips. The foul smelling smoke would fill his pet’s nostrils, filling his lungs and tempting him to cough, but he wouldn’t. He was good enough to know not to.

And if his master so decided he wanted to utilize him for another purpose, one he wasn’t designed for but his master enjoyed, he would welcome the stinging burn of the cigarette digging a sizzling hole into his exposed flesh. He would whimper and whine pathetically with affliction, just as his master liked it.

252719 missed his master. He missed him so much it hurt, terribly so, tying suffocating knots all throughout his grief stricken body. Even the pain he inflicted the pet missed.

But they wouldn’t let him leave. Especially the one that was his new master who said she wasn’t but he knew she was. She said no running away, and so he couldn’t. 

But he wanted to.

And wanting was weird and bad. He was not supposed to want, but he did and it kept him up at night, tossing and turning over memories of his master, over anxieties of this new place where everything is confusing and strange. How it was changing him and making him so very bad.

“Yes ma’am.” 252719 - no, August - mumbled, to her glee. 

August. He had a name now. A real name. Not like the numbers his master called him by. He had a person name.

And August liked it.

…

The clothes were terribly uncomfortable. Not being used to having fabric layered over his skin he cringed, scrunching the soft lines of his plush face. 374629 was not ungrateful, never would he dare to be, he simply did not understand why his master had made him dress. He never had clothing beside a dingy pair of boxers in the facility, and was convinced he would not outside of it either. But there he was, anyway, adorned in his master’s clothing.

He was his master, right?

Me too.

374629 couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. Because of course his master couldn’t be a guard dog, let alone a boxie himself. Masters were people, not pets, and such things were not interchangeable, he knew that. 

His master didn’t even act like a pet. No crawling, no mantras - except for, well, when he repeated his pet’s, but that was different, was it not? -  no collar, no master, no pet.

His master was not a pet. He was sure that was not what he had meant, and a real pet like him should not have even been worrying about it. All he needed to worry about was keeping his master completely and absolutely safe. 

So he forced his brain back into blank and utter emptiness once again, saving himself for the danger of any possible threat. He would keep himself vigilant like he was trained to be. 

His master hummed as he cooked, with a sing-song voice creamy like butter that licked his ears with the hint of gravel. He twirled the spoon around the pot, sticky with hot mac and cheese that took over the air of the apartment. 

374629 had never had macaroni before, only the gray slop his handler had plopped into his dog bowl at least once a day. He held no hope for the chance of receiving any, knowing his place well. 

So when his master, still humming loud and clear, placed a large, human sized bowl of macaroni before him, 374629 didn’t know what to do. He knew he wasn’t supposed to eat it, that was for sure. So he waited.

His master plopped down at the table beside him with his own bowl, steaming the same as his. “That’s for you, okay? I want you to eat as much as you feel you can, if, um, that’s okay.”

Oh. 

Maybe… maybe it was for him. 

And so he ate. Warily at first, waiting for a kick to the face as he descended his mouth to the height of the food, ass up and hands on the wood. Position five. It never came.

But was his meal delicious. 

He’d never tasted anything so good in his life, so wonderful he could never believe he was deserving of it. It spread a cozy warmth of magic through his mouth, not enough to burn but enough to have him melting in a puddle on the floor. Tastebuds sparkling with excitement he plunged back in for more, scooping up pieces vigorously with his tongue and allowing them to dance through his mouth as he chewed.

“So” his master started, pulling him away from the heaven that was his dinner,  “Got any name ideas? It can be anything.”

Oh, he was so bad. Had he missed an order? Was he supposed to have been doing so?

“N- no, sir.” He didn’t even want to dare think about a name for himself. His name was for his master to decide, it was the rules. He couldn’t disobey, but was he really, when his master wanted it? 374629 swallowed another mouthful of cheese dripping noodles, mouth dribbling with sticky remains that pooled at his chin.

“That’s okay.” His master told him, although he knew he didn’t mean it. Nothing was okay when your pet was too stupid for you. “I wish… I had Edith’s book with me… I guess we’ll just have to think about it for a bit. Just let me know if anything comes to mind, um, that you like.”

He could… do that. Did he know any names? He didn’t even have one himself.

He knew… he knew His handler’s name. His first, not just his last, even if he wasn’t really supposed to. Of course he had never called him by it, only Handler Parker, but he’d heard it before.

Hey, Simon, I guess you’ve finally gotten this one under your control.

He missed his handler, he supposed. Missed the strict order and absence of confusion. With his handler he knew exactly what to do and what not, and now it felt like he was all alone with his training. Really, he was.

Handler Simon Parker.

“Simon?” He shifted up to his master, eyes falling wide, “Is that what you said?”

Had he-

He’d said that out loud-

“That’s a nice one. It fits you. I like it.” His master said, lips upturning to a grin. He looked excited, almost, and terribly pleased. “Do you like it?”

He hadn’t really-

But he did, and his master liked it. 374629 was going to be sick, stomach curling in knots as burning bile bubbled in his belly.

His lips carefully parted, quivering as his fists clenched, uncut nails burrowing into the flesh of his palm. “What- whatever pleases you, Master.” He choked out, words tinged with the rasp of shock as he turned his gaze back to the floor.

“I really like that. I think it’s settled then.” His master giggled, sweet and bubbly that failed to calm his pet’s horrified heart. “Welcome to the family, um, Simon.”

——————

Isaac is from a different connected bbu story I just posted earlier today if you want to check that out here :)

———

Masterlist

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @3-2-whump @taterswhump @fefe658 @whumped-by-glitter

@pigeonwhumps @whumpinthepot @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @tippytappytyping @ivymyers

@octopus-reactivated @loserwithsyle @snakebites-and-ink @itsawhumpsideblog @otterfrost

@parasiticwhumpee @starrysky888 @isntthisblank

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

#Whump #whumpblr #whump story #writing #my writing #whump writing #Seeing me in you #August oc #Simon oc #box boy whump #box boy universe #bbu #box boy #Pet whump #institutionalized slavery #conditioned whumpee

[serickswrites]

Dangerous Game

Part 2

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, escape, rescue, threat of death

Whumper stared down at Whumpee. Whumpee could barely breathe around their hammering heart. Whumper had caught them days ago and had tied them up here at the compound. And then not touched them. Though they knew it had to be coming. And so when the door to their compound banged open and Whumper stalked in, Whumpee knew their borrowed time had run out.

"What....what do you want from me?" Whumpee tried to slow their breath. Tried to do everything they could to calm themselves.

Whumper smiled. "I want something fun."

"Fun?" Whumpee didn't understand.

"Yes. Fun. Are you stupid or something?" Whumper sneered. "My last several prisoners were very boring. But I'm hoping you're different. Caretaker and their team to hold you in such high regard. You have to be different." Whumper fingered the knife at their belt.

Whumpee swallowed. Caretaker. The team. They were hunting Whumper. They had all been hunting Whumper. And somehow Whumpee had been the only one to get caught. The team was looking for them. Caretaker was looking for them. "I'm flattered you would think I would bring you fun, Whumper." Perhaps they could just use their words to distract Whumper.

Whumper rolled their eyes. "Don't try to trick me, it won't work." They raised their hand and Whumpee flinched. Whumper grinned again. "I came to make you a deal, Whumpee."

Whumpee took a deep breath. They had to keep their wits about them. Whumper was smart. Whumper was cunning. And Whumper was deadly. "What kind of deal?"

"The kind that only comes once in a lifetime." Whumper watched Whumpee expectantly.

"That's very kind of you, Whumper. I'm listening."

"You know what I am. You know what I do." Whumpee nodded. "Then you know what will happen if you don't win our game."

"Game?"

"Yes, Whumpee, game. It's simple, really. If you can make it out of the compound, you go free."

"That's very nice of you, Whumper. Thank you." Whumpee tried to not let the hope they felt in their heart show. If Whumper knew how hopeful Whumpee was, they would take the deal away. Perhaps that was the game: to squash Whumpee's hope before torturing them to death.

"Yeah, well that's a big if. No one has escaped yet. Because I always win. If you can make it out of the compound before I catch you, you're free, Whumpee. I won't try to pursue you past the front door. But if I catch you, I win. And I get my prize." Whumper's eyes glinted with wicked joy.

"Prize....what prize?"

"You. You're my prize. If I win, I get to take as much time as I like to slowly, painfully end your life. If I win, Whumpee, you're going to wish you were dead long before death comes to claim you."

Whumpee swallowed. "And if I refuse to play?"

Whumper frowned. "Then I get my prize now. But that's boring. Don't be boring, Whumpee."

"But who's to say that there even is a way out. You could be just toying with me now." The words tumbled out of Whumpee's mouth before Whumpee could stop themself.

Whumper smirked. "And there's the real you. Don't worry. I won't hold it against you. Just know that I don't lie. There is a way out. And if you can find it, I'll let you go. Do we have a deal?"

Bile crept up Whumpee's throat. What choice did they have? Certain death now or the possibility of escape and freedom? How close was Caretaker and the team? Could they endure torture long enough to be rescued? Could they risk that.

Whumpee nodded. "We have a deal, Whumper."

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw torture #tw escape #tw threat of death #queue #this is a series #it has two more installments that are completely written

[whumpingaround]

I’ve decided that grammar is real, but anyway, here’s a scenario:

Whumpee didn’t realize what they were doing when they picked up the cursed object. They thought it was just a story going around, and it wouldn’t actually curse the person who used it. Now, though, they lie curled up in pain from the malevolent curse placed upon them, regretting their curiosity. “What have I done?” Caretaker, meanwhile, searches through old books and ancient texts, desperately trying to find a cure or a solution of some kind. There had to be something they could do.

#whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump tropes #whumpblr #magic whump #hurt/comfort

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

Don't know if this is your thing but attempting some mind control? >:)

This ended up more about vampires than mind control but it's there lol.

TW: Vampire, manhandling, thrall/mind control, threat of eye whump (doesn't happen)

The vampire knocked a few times on their present’s room. A courtesy gesture really. Mostly to warn them as they opened the door and entered. 

Whumpee still jumped, as far from the door as they could be. “I didn’t invite you in, how can you be here?” They asked tiredly, faced away from their captor.

“Delight, this is my house. I need no permission to enter my own rooms.” 

Whumpee stiffened, but didn’t turn around. 

The vampire sighed. “I have some friends downstairs who are simply dying to meet you. Won’t you come willingly? It’s not as if this is new to you.” 

No response, no movement from the poor unfortunate human in the room. Faster than could be registered, the vampire was across the room, human pinned to the wall from their inhuman strength. Whumpee tried unsuccessfully to pull away, squirming and holding their eyes tightly closed.

It was always both satisfying and tempting to feel the human’s heartbeat under the vampire’s palm. The warmth of life might be gone from their body but their senses had been enhanced beyond all imagination. The simple fact they didn’t eviscerate every prey they fed from was a testament to their skill. 

The vampire tsked, lightly dragging their sharpened fingers down whumpee’s cheek. “Now now Delight, you know how I despise it when you act petulant. Open those eyes, if you won’t obey of your own accord.” 

The human knew the vampire was right. They weren’t new to this. But all the same, they fought it. Refused to give in. Refused to simply lie down and allow the bloodsucker to make them their little pet. Even through their vulnerable trembles, whumpee kept their eyes closed. 

A dark growl reverberated through their body. Whumpee’s reaction was far from beyond their control; a deep instinct, encouraged by pain and suffering that lingered long after they were returned limp to their room. They knew what was coming but even then couldn’t let go. 

“Open your eyes,” the vampire ground out again, claws digging into Whumpee’s hair and pulling on their tender scalp. 

“If you keep them closed, my friends and I will cut your eyelids out.” 

Whumpee shook. They knew they had been pushing their luck, knew their captor wouldn’t entertain their behavior forever. 

As a little piece of them died, they opened their eyes. 

It wasn’t but a moment later everything grew dream-like. The colors stronger, everything sharper, but the world also a bit further away. Less important. Less real.  

“There,” purred the vampire, stroking Whumpee’s face and basking in the way they leaned into it. “Isn’t that better? More freeing? Safer?” 

“Yes, Master,” Whumpee muttered sleepily, more than happy to follow the vampire down the hall and stairs to the inevitable grabbing of skin and gnashing of teeth that would leave them weaker still, until nothing was left.

#whump #whump prompt #whump drabble #vampire whumper #human whumpee

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

will always be screaming, crying, smiling like a maniac, screeching like a demonic entity and digging my nails into the pillow like a high schooler who got asked out by her crush, every time it’s a scene where whumpee is wounded and is delirious, so when caretaker comes to their rescue, whumpee is so out of it that they don’t even know caretaker is here, in front of them now. so caretaker has to grab whumpee’s shoulders, or cup whumpee’s face, and keep calling whumpee’s name repeatedly, they also have to repeatedly tell whumpee to look at them and that they’re here and they’re real.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s just me. look at me. at me, (insert character’s name). I’m here. I’m here now. you’re gonna be okay. I’m taking you home, it’s alright. hush, I got you. I got you”

also bonus if whumpee — on the verge of losing consciousness — weakly and quietly asks if caretaker is real this time (because whumpee has hallucinated that caretaker comes to help them so many times in the past) and caretaker has to do their best to reassure whumpee that they’re real and that they’re really here, even if there’s a chance that whumpee is too out of it to understand a word caretaker is saying.

“I am real. I am here, hey, I am here. I’ve got you now. it’s okay. you’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

like… it’s the repetition that kills me, the reader, but please never stop using this type of repetition in your works when it comes to whump, angst, hurt/comfort.

#whump #angst #whumpee #caretaker #whump tropes #whump trope #whump prompts #whump prompt #writing tropes #writing trope #writing prompts #writing prompt #tropes #writing #writer #trope #prompts #prompt #whumpblr #writeblr #whump community #writing challenge #writing community #whump blog #whump scenes #whump scenario #whump stuff #whump writing #whump story

[whumpsday]

3 whumpy anime to check out this spring!

Go Go Loser Ranger is a heroes vs. villains anime where the villains are the good guys and the heroes are downright evil. Having wiped out all the powerful monsters more than a decade ago, the heroes keep the weakest monsters captive, to parade around and torment on a weekly basis while the public believes otherwise. Because they're immortal when hit with most weapons, they'll always reform to be hurt over and over again, despite feeling all the pain.

Footsoldier D is one of those weak monsters, an immortal shapeshifter made of dust, called a "duster". After escaping the heroes' arena, he forms a plan to kill the heroes and steal the few weapons they have that can permanently kill dusters, freeing the rest of his kind. Given that he has the constitution of a porcelain doll, he can't use strength to fight: he has to rely on wits, stealth, shapeshifting (despite knowing very little about humans or the outside world), and a shaky alliance with a double-agent ranger who seems to be taking advantage of him for her own gain.

Whump tags: villain whumpee, hero whumper, immortal whumpee

Watch it on Hulu, Disney+, or any unofficial anime site.

And if you don't have time to check out a whole anime, the Go Go Loser Ranger opening theme video is also really good, with fantastic visuals symbolizing D's struggles!

An Archdemon's Dilemma is a romantic comedy stuffed to the brim with popular whump tropes. Zagan is a demonic sorcerer who attends an auction for the possessions of another recently-killed sorcerer, when he sees that one of those "possessions" is an elf slave, Nephelia. Having had a destitute, harsh past himself, he feels a rush of sympathy and buys her way out, vowing to ensure her safety. However, Nephelia is terrified, believing she's about to be used as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual. And unfortunately for both of them, Zagan is a socially awkward loser who sucks at communicating.

It's surreal seeing something that looks like it could be a caretaker-new-master whump fic as an actual, fully-realized anime. It definitely doesn't take itself too seriously despite the premise, leaning heavily on the "comedy" part of romantic comedy, and is mostly just a silly time with lots of whump-adjacent stuff thrown in. Fanfic-y to the point of "there's only one bed" being an actual line.

Whump tags: fantasy slavery (very pet-whump-esque in its tropes), caretaker new master

Watch it on Crunchyroll or any unofficial anime site.

The Grimm Variations is an anthology of horror retellings of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales. With each episode being written and directed by different people, it varies wildly in quality, with episodes ranging from laughably bad to incredibly good, but I'm here to talk about episode 2: Little Red Riding Hood.

The Little Red Riding Hood takes place in a dystopian future where the upper and middle class use virtual reality technology to augment their reality. One man, Grey, is tired of this and craves the real: specifically, the feeling of real blood spraying him as he murders countless women, his wealth and connections protecting him from consequences. But when this serial killer makes the mistake of targeting a woman called Scarlet, he finds himself on the other side of the knife. This episode is a complete and utter gorefest with multiple onscreen torture scenes.

This isn't even my favorite episode of the series, it's like my 3rd favorite. But episode 2 is the one with the gruesome torture scene, so it's the one that goes in this post.

Little Red Riding Hood whump tags: whumper-turned-whumpee, torture, gore

Little Red Riding Hood warnings: sexual assault, eye gore, fingernail gore, violence against women, major character death

Watch it on Netflix or any unofficial anime site. Orrrr if you just wanna watch the big torture scene without any of the context, it's on Youtube.

that's all I have for now :)

(P.S: Dungeon Meshi, while not really whumpy as a whole, is also currently airing and very very good and I might write whump fanfic for it at some point in the near future. Netflix or any unofficial anime site.)

#fandom

[hurt-and-comfort-me-please]

Alternative Ways to Inflict Pain!

Everybody uses the ol' broken bones, lashes, flu, or concussion to hurt their whumpees, here are some underutilized afflictions.

-Pinched nerves; As someone who has had a severe pinched nerve, let me tell you those damn things will not stop hurting. White hot electric pain running down your whumpee's limbs, damn near inescapable and very difficult to treat, will last for weeks if not months, often caused by joint or spinal injuries, especially herniations and dislocations.

-Urinary tract infections; Embarrassing and painful. Can be serious, or could just be a real pain for a little while. Nobody wants to admit they've got bathroom problems, so real good if you want to make getting help embarrassing. Caused by a variety of factors, but mainly involving urination, such as holding for too long or using an improperly sanitized catheter.

-Vertigo; Pressure in the ear canal that can make someone very dizzy or nauseous. Usually only lasts for a few seconds at a time, but can be recurring. It can be triggered by stress or anxiety, and can result in vomiting.

I am not a doctor, but neither are most of you so.. Correct me if I'm wrong.

#whump #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump ideas #whumpee

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 22: "You weren't meant to be there,"

Content warning: held at knifepoint

“What’s going on?! Caretaker, what the hell is–”

“You weren’t–you weren’t supposed to be there when this happened. I didn’t know they were even in the city!” There was an edge of disbelief in Caretaker’s voice, a strange mix of anger and giddy surprise. Their grip on Whumpee was unrelenting, pulling them along at a pace Whumpee could barely match. “Just–just trust me, alright?”

Whumpee didn’t know what was going on. Things had been fine moments ago; the pair had been walking home after a long night, chatting away. It’d been perfectly normal evening before Caretaker’s face had gone pale, before they’d grabbed Whumpee without explanation and broke into a dead sprint.

Whumpee’s legs burned from the exertion, a thousand questions running through their mind. Still, the memory of the look of fear that had flashed across Caretaker’s face was enough to keep them arguing. Something was wrong, and Whumpee trusted Caretaker enough not to pull away. They weren’t sure they could have even if they wanted to.

It felt like an eternity of running, the streets blurring as Caretaker turned seemingly at random. By the time they stopped, stumbling into a small, overgrown park at the edge of town, Whumpee felt ready to collapse. Caretaker released Whumpee’s hand, and Whumpee instantly folded into themselves, gasping for breath.

Caretaker seemed unfazed. They stood at attention, eyes scanning the area. After a moment, their posture straightened, eyes intense as they stared at something Whumpee couldn’t see through the trees.

“Whatever happens, just go along with it. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Whumpee swallowed thickly. “What– what does that even mean–?!”

They both went silent at the sound of approaching footsteps.

From the darkness, a stranger walked intently towards them. Their eyes, cold and filled with so much anger that Whumpee couldn’t breathe from fear, were locked squarely on Caretaker.

“You really thought you could hide forever?” Only the slightest hint of breathlessness betrayed the effort the stranger had made to pursue them. They scowled. “You’re getting sloppy, Whumper.”

They didn’t have the breath to speak it, but a question rang out in Whumpee’s mind. Who the hell was Whumper?

Caretaker, it seemed, wasn’t surprised by the accusation. “Who said anything about hiding? I’m right here, aren’t I?”

Caretaker’s words were thick with mockery, a tone so foreign on their tongue that Whumpee was shocked into silence. Whumpee turned, and suddenly the familiar face beside them looked like a total stranger. The tension in Caretaker’s posture was gone. They stood almost lazily now, hands tucked into their pockets, shoulders relaxed.

Caretaker smiled. An ugly, smug smirk that looked nothing like the person Whumpee knew. “If you missed my company so much, you could’ve simply called.”

“You think this is a game!?” The stranger took another step forward, something wild in their eyes. “You lost. I finally found you, and I’m not letting you get away with the shit you pulled.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve lost,”

Like a coiled snake, Caretaker suddenly sprang into movement. Whumpee yelped as they were dragged back. A hand wrapped its way around their torso, pulling them in until their back was flush against Caretaker’s chest.

They felt something press hard against their chin, forcing their head upward. A cold nip, an edge that felt so sharp that it could cut them open with the flick of the wrist.

It was a knife. Caretaker was holding a knife to their throat.

Every cell in Whumpee’s body froze. The stranger stopped dead in their tracks, hand frozen where it’d been reaching towards their belt.

“Let me introduce you to Whumpee. A real sweetheart, a total nobody. I’m sure they’re very confused over this entire situation,” Caretaker’s tone was full of mock pity. Their blade did not move from Whumpee’s throat, not an inch. It was pressed firmly to their skin, a movement away from drawing blood.

“Now, if you want to cut down this poor little thing to get to me, be my guest,” Caretaker smiled, all teeth. “But we both know you’re not the type for that, don’t we?”

Caretaker’s grip wasn’t tight enough to restrict their airflow, and yet Whumpee couldn’t breathe. Caretaker—sweet, gentle, kind Caretaker— had a knife pressed against their neck. It was so utterly bizarre that Whumpee couldn’t hardly comprehend it.

Tears, panicked and terrified, began to drip from Whumpee’s eyes. They didn’t dare sob. “W-what–,”

“You–you're a damn liar. I bet they're one of your friends,” the stranger hissed the accusation. And yet they didn’t move. Their eyes had flicked over to stare at Whumpee, widening. A different sort of anger entered their eyes, subdued by a hint of fear. It was like they were looking at Whumpee with pity.

Caretaker only hummed. They leaned forward, breath brushing the shell of Whumpee’s ear. “Whumpee darling, answer a question for me,” they asked, loud enough for the stranger to hear. The blade pulled back only slightly, the pressure releasing enough for Whumpee to speak without cutting themselves on the edge. “What’s my name?”

Whumpee opened their mouth to answer, but a panicked sob tore through instead. Their body shook with terror, as if they’d just realized what sort of danger they were in. Whumpee tried to control the tears coming to their eyes. They swallowed wetly, all too aware of the knife still so, so close to their neck.

They felt Caretaker’s hold on them relax slightly, and Whumpee decided to take it as an act of silent comfort.

“C-caretaker?” they forced the words out, terrified of the consequences of staying silent. Their answer came out like a question. “I don’t–please, I don’t know what’s happening-!”

The stranger flinched at Whumpee’s terrified words, eyes softening. Caretaker’s hold did not falter.

“You hear that? Caretaker,” Caretaker hummed their own name like it was the first time they’d heard it. “What a nice name…”

Tears dripped freely from Whumpee’s eyes. Their fingers gripped uselessly at the arm around their middle. They didn’t know if they wanted to pull Caretaker away, or pull them closer. They didn’t know if Caretaker or the stranger was more dangerous.

The stranger’s face shifted with a look of horror “You’re a monster,”

“As if you didn’t know that already. So,” Caretaker smiled, all teeth, eyes squarely on their opponent. “What are you going to do?”

It seemed like they were going to do nothing. They stood frozen, their once hard glare weakened with uncertainty. Their shoulders had slumped, hands moving to flench angrily at their sides, furious but non threatening. They were shaking with anger, but they did not move.

Caretaker moved. They took a step back, dragging Whumpee back with them. When the stranger didn’t react, they took another, then another, sending them further into the darkness. The blade didn’t move from Whumpee’s throat.

Finally, the blade left Whumpee’s throat. Caretaker’s hold shifted on them, releasing their torso and catching Whumpee’s hand once more.

“Move.”

Caretaker pulled them into a run. Whumpee had no choice but to follow.

#caretaker turned whumper #whumper turned caretaker #whumpee #caretaker #whump #my stuff #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 22

[secretwhumplair]

Don't you want a bath?

727 words | Izara and the serpent king (sequel to Fighting spirit)

Content | Slavery, dehumanization, manhandling, defiant whumpee, carewhumper, implied/mentioned: nudity, future noncon, punishment, victim blaming

Notes | Izara's introduction to the serpent king continues! He hates it!

Taglist | @yet-another-heathen @echo-goes-aaa @whumpinator @neverthelass

Izara was dragged on to the next room.

It had large, arched windows, looking out over the palace grounds. It was on some sort of terrace—which made sense, there was a sizable pool in its center, a bath, Izara realized—and if he leapt just right-

»What are you looking at, little thing?«

The serpent king had seen through him, Izara could tell from the amusement in his voice. Like he knew just how helpless Izara was. The worst part was that it was true.

Izara didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say, anyway? He just forced himself to look at the serpent king, who had slid into the water, then dropped his gaze to the edge of the pool. He could vaguely imagine what the serpent king wanted with him here; he was already naked, after all. He tried not to think about it too hard. His whole body already hurt. Maybe the guard, still holding him, would get a turn too.

He tried not to think about it.

The guard marched him over to the edge of the pool, and the serpent king moved over to look up at him. It was the smallest comfort, looking down on him like this, but he knew it wouldn’t last.

»Come join me.« The softness of the serpent king’s voice couldn’t conceal that this was an order.

Izara didn’t want to move. He knew what was going to happen. It would be worse if he disobeyed, too.

There was no way out.

His eyes drifted to the windows again. Freedom was so close, and yet utterly unreachable.

»Come, sweet thing. You can let him go,« he added at the guard, and then added something in their language. Izara could imagine his punishment, should he disobey, being outlined to be carried out by the guard at the first wrong move.

For now, the guard let go of his arm again and positioned themself between him and the windows.

Izara’s hands—his newly freed hands, for whatever reason—curled into fists again. Of course.

The serpent king still looked up at him, quizzically. »Don’t you want a bath?«

Izara could have screamed at the duplicity. Of course he wanted a bath. He was desperate for a bath, even if he doubted he would ever feel actually clean again. What he didn’t want was for another master to toy with him, make it worse, and least of all he wanted for it to be disguised as some sort of mercy.

He could see what would happen if he refused, as clear as day. He would probably be locked up somewhere in a cell, or perhaps made to do the dirtiest work the king could think of, without the slightest opportunity of washing himself, and then he would be told it was him who chose this. He had been offered a bath, after all.

He ground his teeth, swallowing down tears. »I do.«

»Good. I want you to bathe as well.« The serpent king stretched out an arm, as if offering to help him into the pool.

»I don’t want to take a bath with you.« He was furious enough he barely felt fear at the impossible thing he was saying.

»I’m afraid that is not a choice I am offering you,« the serpent king said softly. »I want to get to know your body.«

Of course. Of course that was what he wanted. Izara felt sick.

»I won’t hurt you.«

Izara didn’t believe that for a second. A good bedslave would pretend not to be hurt far beyond the threshold of what counted as pain for real people, and that was probably the serpent king’s reference point, if he wasn’t straight-up lying.

He was not a good slave. He would forever refuse to be.

For as long as he could.

For as long as his waning strength lasted him.

He couldn’t fight the tears forever, and now they were welling up. »Come on, little thing,« the serpent king said, even softer. »It’s alright. Come on in.«

He reached further and took Izara by the hand, only grabbing on tight when Izara tried to pull away. »Come on.«

There was no way out.

He let the serpent king pull him into the water with the same uncanny gentleness he had displayed this whole time, and he hated himself for it.

#my writing #whump writing #defiant whumpee #carewhumper #mirai and the serpent king #izara and the serpent king #izara #eshihir #fear not black prince will resume shortly. I'm sure

[whumpshaped]

whumptober 13

prompt list masterlist

tw multiple whumpers, hostile crowd, noncon drugging (magical), demon whumpee, dehumanisation, it/its as a means to dehumanise

"I don't feel so good." Whumpee looked down at their beverage, watching their reflection swirl and distort. They didn't think they drank that much, to be honest. "I... I might've underestimated the drinks here."

"Happens to the best of us," Whumper said easily. "You want some help getting to the bathroom?"

"No, no... I'm... I can handle myself." Whumpee slid off the barstool, finding that the floor was somehow further away than they anticipated; if Whumper hadn't caught them, they would've ended up on the ground. "Fuck, sorry... I don't know what's wrong with me tonight..."

They were too embarrassed about their own state to notice Whumper and the bartender exchanging a look. All they could focus on was trying to keep their balance and stay on their feet.

"I think I'm just gonna go home," they mumbled. "Sorry."

Whumper let them go without question, and they attempted to break through the crowd and get to the exit. The entire place felt more suffocating than when they walked in — it felt like everybody was staring at them, or even pointing and whispering behind their back.

What the hell was going on? Was there something in their drink that was making them paranoid?

They... they didn't know, did they?

They breathed a sigh of relief when they finally put their hand on the door leading to the outside. A bit of fresh air would clear everything up.

Except the door seemed to be locked. No– was that even the door they were touching? They could feel all those eyes on their back as they pushed against whatever force was keeping them inside, more and more desperate with each passing second.

"It's true!" someone exclaimed abruptly, and Whumpee spun around to face the crowd again.

"It's a fucking demon," someone else said. "It can't get through the salt."

Whumpee glanced down, finally spotting the generous amount of white substance just in front of the doorstep. Fuck. Fuck! How did they even figure it out? They couldn't come up with a solution in their sluggish mind as the humans advanced on them, they could only press up against the barrier even more. They felt like they were going to throw up.

"I can't believe that witch was right!"

"Nobody else had a reaction to that magic wine, right? It's real?"

"It was only them! They're the only demon in here!"

Whumpee cried out in fear when the people grabbed them, tearing them away from the door and shoving them back towards the centre of the bar. They were pushed onto the knees right in front of Whumper, and they grabbed onto their pant leg like a scared child. "Please help," they slurred. "Please, I'm harmless, I don't want any trouble–"

Whumper kicked them away with a disgusted look on their face. "Get your dirty hands away from me, demon," they spat before looking up at the others again. "Who has the enchanted chains the witch gave us? We have to tie it up before it gets any ideas."

~

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

#zi's whumptober scribbles #whump #whump drabble #multiple whumpers #hostile crowd #noncon drugging (magical) #nonhuman whumpee #demon whumpee #dehumanisation

[whitecoatwhump]

(This is the first time I’ve written something like this. It’s a quick little piece that I don’t entirely know how to tag)

CW: implied vivisection, no anesthesia, a whumper who is very casual about the whole thing, puns

“Look, I’ve realized that we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” the whumper said to the whumpee, who was gagged and tied to the operating table. Their hand hovered over a row of scalpels organized by length before picking one in the middle.

“Here I am, trying to be friendly by asking you about yourself and talking about myself,” they continued, turning back to the whumpee glaring at them. “You know, make you feel more comfortable being here. And yet, nothing! You only talk about wanting to leave the lab and how much of a bitch I am, and you’ve never asked me any questions about my life. I bet you don’t even remember my cat’s name. It’s Cheeto, by the way.

“So, you and me, we’re going to have a real heart to heart today. Spill our guts to each other,” The whumper approached the table. The whumpee saw the scalpel in their hand, and their glare faltered. They hummed a nervous question. The whumper nodded, “Yes, and this tool here is going to be my way of helping you open up to me.”

Another hum, more frantic as the whumpee started to fight against their restraints. The restraints were too tight though, and they could only watch in horror as the scalpel lowered towards their chest. They screamed as the whumper started to slice them open.

Oh, they were going to learn so much about each other.

#whump #whump writing #surgery whump #vivisection #medical whump