#darling whumpee
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True Weakness
Thank you to @laffy-taffy-creations for helping me come up with the title!
“Darling,” Whumper called, opening the door to Whumpee’s room, “breakfast’s ready.”
The little lump under the blankets didn’t move. Whumper tutted, then spoke again.
“Whumpee, my love,” they said, “if you weren’t awake before, my voice should’ve roused you now. Come along.”
As they spoke, Whumper crossed the room to their darling’s bedside. When Whumpee still didn’t respond, a frown crept into Whumper’s features.
“Whumpee, you know how I feel about being ignored-”
Whumper pulled back the covers and nearly recoiled at what they saw. Whumpee’s eyes were shut in restless sleep, their breathing was labored, and their beautiful face contorted in discomfort as red splotches stained their usually flawless skin. Whumper put a hand to their forehead; the heat radiating there was all the confirmation they needed.
“My dearest, how long have you been like this?” they whispered to themselves.
Whumpee whimpered in their sleep, unconsciously leaning into their captor’s cool touch. Whumper crouched down at their side and cupped their too-warm face.
“Whumpee, please wake up for me,” they whispered.
Slowly, Whumpee’s eyes fluttered open, revealing glassy irises beneath half-closed lids. Whumper breathed a sigh of relief, at least they were able to rouse them.
“You’re burning up, my darling,” they said, “how are you feeling?”
Whumpee whimpered in response, their eyes screwing shut as they nuzzled further into Whumper’s hands.
“Talk to me, what hurts?”
Whumpee looked up at them with the most pitiful expression.
“Everything,” they croaked hoarsely.
There was an unnatural gravel to their voice, and it looked like just speaking was causing them pain.
“I’m afraid I might have to take you to a doctor,” Whumper decided, “are you going to behave for me?”
Whumper didn’t wait for their response; they hoisted Whumpee up into a bridal carry. At this point, Whumpee would usually protest, but their current state had made them miserably docile. Whumper brought them to the car and laid them in the passenger’s seat. They buckled their seatbelt for them and closed their door. Once in the driver’s seat, Whumper sped off to the nearest town. The benefit of living in a large cabin in a private forest was no one would bother them and their darling, but the privacy did have its downsides, especially in situations like this.
…
Whumpee had fallen asleep on the way home. Whumper gently carried them inside and tucked them back into bed. Strep throat, the doctor had said, and a pretty bad case of it, too. Whumper had no idea how Whumpee had gotten it, they had always been so careful to keep them as healthy as possible. Whumper felt utterly ashamed of themselves for letting this happen, and as they opened the bag of medicine Whumpee had been prescribed, they fought the urge to cry. Gently, they shook their shoulder.
“Mmm,” Whumpee groaned.
“I’m sorry my love, but I need you to take some of this.”
Whumper poured some medicine onto a spoon. Whumpee looked down at the thick, sticky liquid, then back up at Whumper pleadingly.
“I know, I know,” Whumper said, “but you have to take it. It’s going to help you feel better. You do want to feel better, don’t you?”
Whumper slipped a hand behind Whumpee’s back and lifted them into a sitting position. Whumpee’s mouth fell open, allowing them to feed them the medicine.
With great difficulty, and quite the grimace, Whumpee swallowed. Whumper quickly offered them a glass of water, which they drained in a matter of seconds. Whumper then lowered them back into bed.
“I’ll let you get your rest,” they said, “you’re going to need it.”
Whumper turned to leave, but a weak hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed their sleeve. Whumper turned, their brows going up in surprise. Whumpee looked just as shocked as them.
“What is it, darling?”
“…S-Stay?”
Whumper melted on the spot. They crawled in bed next to their little Whumpee, holding them close. The germs could go fly a kite. This was the first time Whumpee had actually wanted Whumper to be with them. Maybe Whumper should let them get sick more often…
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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog
#whump#hurt/comfort#sickfic#yandere sickfic#yandere x darling#yandere whumper#darling whumpee#captivity#soft whump#strep#medicine#sickfic whump#fever whump
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Outside
Continuation from Experiment - pt 1 here
-
Dani curled up in her favourite chair by the window of the library. Her focus however drifted and she found her gaze kept being drawn to the landscape outside. A wilderness; shrubs and greenery turning into a vast forest surrounding Roman’s mansion, and only near the horizon a glint of the headlights of a lone car. The first sign of civilization for miles - none to be found in the center of this mansion. She estimated the distance, wondered how far she could get through the woods. Useless, really.
She forced her eyes back onto the page of her book. But just as she did, clouds parted and rays of sunshine slid over the pages. Warmth roamed up her arms, tingling her skin in-between the bandages, further up her neck, until she squinted at the bright light. She let her eyes remain closed for just a few seconds, basking in the light, letting it fill the darkest recesses of her thoughts as well. Opening her eyes brought her back to her cruel reality. She exhaled softly.
“Roman.” She only continued when he looked up. “I want to go outside.”
A sly grin spread over his lips and he rested his temple against a fist, tilting his head as he looked her in the eye. “That’s nice, dear. You go right ahead.”
Dani wanted to take the Encyclopedia of the human anatomy on the table and smack him right in his smug face with all its glorious 600 glossy pages (hardcover). Counterproductive, so she sighed out temptations of violence and pulled at the leg of her jeans.
In a slow blink his eyes followed and roamed down to the device around her ankle. “Deactivate it, then,” Dani asked tightly, but still as nicely as she could.
He shifted upright as if he wanted to get up. But then he hummed, directed his attention back to whatever he was working on, and said in a clipped but still playful voice, “No.”
She abruptly stood, dunked her book into the cushion of her seat with so much force it bounced back up, and legged past him without a word. She could see his lips press tightly against his thumb in an attempt to hide his smirk. His eyes followed her out, but he didn’t say another word.
Fucking asshole.
She fumed her way down the stairs, circled through the house and only stopped in front of the back door. Tentatively opened it to gain access to the porch outside. None of the doors in this house were locked. A cruel reminder of her circumstances. She had nowhere to go to escape. Only doors to Roman’s private spaces were locked; his office, his bedroom. And of course her own door at night. She always tested it. Only needed one shot to strangle him in his sleep. Well, two, really… two doors. Still…
The device around her ankle felt heavier than before, cautioning her.
The porch should still fall into the safe area. She tipped a toe outside and set one foot, the one without the device, onto the dark wooden flooring. Technically, probably half the garden was still safe, but she wasn’t going to risk it. She had no idea how this thing pinpointed her location and if it could be off by a few yards. Not going to test that, especially when she was alone.
The lawn stretched out in front of her, tempting her. A green oasis, bordered by beds of wildflowers, hedges turning to pine trees, bushes, all closed in by the woods stretching out for… miles? He had quite a nice garden. To go along with his stupid nice house. Nicely in the middle of freaking nowhere.
She could see dew drops shimmering in the sunshine. That rare bit of sunshine she hadn’t felt in… weeks.
The porch itself, of fucking course, was cast in shadows.
She nudged back and forth, trying a few steps up and down the porch, but steering clear of the steps leading to the garden.
“Go on, then,” a voice behind her encouraged.
Her chest tightened in anger and she stopped her pacing. “No,” she answered in the same clipped voice.
“Coward.” Roman stopped right next to her, joining her with his hands in his pockets to show he came in peace. Together they looked out over the garden in silence. Then he took a deep breath and slowly, deliberately, took a step forward, down the three steps, into the sun. He turned slowly in the middle of the lawn, arms spread wide, eyes closed, head tilted up as if he was enjoying the warmth on his face.
As he spun back, she caught the grin on his face.
“Yeah,” Dani too turned on the spot, hiding her sour expression, “I’ll just go back inside.”
She heard him follow but refused to look back, instead stomping up the stairs back to the library.
He caught up, caught the clenched fist swinging next to her hip as she strode away, pulling her back. She turned with a snap, using the momentum to twist her wrist free and aimed a punch. It landed in the palm of his hand, drawing out a soft chuckle.
“Go on,” he goaded again, this time his voice low, chin tipped down leering at her, advancing on her.
His hand snapped around her wrist. Pulled her in, grabbed her other wrist as well and crossed her arms over her body, tight over her chest, forcing her back until she hit a wall.
Muscles strained as she tried to pull free from his grip. Patience strained as he leaned in closer, smug expression bearing down on her.
“Let go of me,” she said in a calm voice that didn’t line up with the rage swirling through her.
“Hm, no.”
She kicked hard at his knee. Felt and heard a nice crunch. He buckled but didn’t fully let go of her yet.
And without thinking and mostly out of habit, she followed up with a somewhat more indecent kick.
That did the trick.
He stooped forward with a choked off surprised gasp, palm of his hand crashing against the wall as he kept himself up. She just about caught the utmost fury as he glared up at her through narrowed eyes, but before he could regain his ability to speak, she zipped past him and fucking ran.
Ran but she had nowhere to run to.
She heard a thunk behind her as she rushed down the hallway, bolted down the stairs, vaguely registering that he must have collapsed to his knees. But in her panic she found no satisfaction for it.
His voice thundered through the house.
“Danielle!”
Ohhh, shit. Hearing her full name never bode well.
She sprinted to the back of the house, her legs carrying her unconsciously to the most logical escape route. Outside. But that route was cut off, by an invisible minefield that she couldn’t sneak or weave through. She screeched to a halt on the porch, panting, looking around as if she could find an opening somewhere in the invisible electric curtain that closed her in.
Nothing of course. She was absolutely stuck, with nowhere to hide, and with nothing but a severe punishment waiting for her.
Her face fell. Freedom, so close, spread out wide in front of her. Yet still boxed in.
Just as she wondered if she would be able to take the risk and run through the minefield, pain and electricity be damned – at some point she would be outside the range where the ankle monitor might just stop, right?! – footsteps stumbled behind her and her breath caught. She twirled on the spot.
Roman leaned heavily against the doorway, his face twisted in anger, the last remnants of pain twitching in his eyes. At least he had the dignity not to cradle his bruised package. Probably already did that upstairs… on his knees. Trembling. A prick of light in her darkness. An image to hold on to for the upcoming time. She had the dignity not to smirk. Her fear wouldn’t let her anyway.
Dani backed away. Slowly. Maybe she could still slip past him, but what was the use. It would only prolong the inevitable.
Another step back.
Her heart skipped a beat when the ground disappeared. Her ankle doubled as it crashed a few steps lower. With a soft shocked gasp, she fell back, arms flailing.
Completely unexpected, Roman’s hand shot out, gripping her tight by the wrist and she was almost grateful when he pulled her back onto the porch. He didn’t speak yet, just snarled down on her. And just when she got her feet firmly back under her supporting her own weight, his lips curled.
Their eyes met for a second.
And he shoved her hard.
She didn’t even have time to gasp in shock, yet it was like she fell in slow motion. Her mind braced for impact, for the shock that was about to course through her. Legs scrambled under her, stumbling back, muscles strained, desperate to stay upright but it was no use.
Before her back even hit the wet grass, the device activated.
And her mouth opened in a silent scream.
Pain coursed up her legs, the electric surge spreading through her body in an instant. It tensed every muscle to the point where she was completely paralysed for a few seconds.
Then finally could she release the pain in a scream. She wrenched onto her stomach, shaking heavily, fists clenched around the blades of grass. It was like all here muscles were caught in a ring of fire, heat burning through her.
But then it stopped. Muscles abruptly released and she lay flat as a board on the grass for a moment, heaving in gasps.
So much for her escape plan to just power through…
Roman lazily watched her from the porch, fiddling with the remote control for the ankle device. “You’d better crawl back here, fast,” he said, ice in his voice. “It will reactivate again in a few seconds.”
She clawed a hand forward, but before she could even get a leg under her to push off, her muscles clenched up again.
“You know,” Roman’s voice came when her screams died down again to sharp exhales. “To give the escapee the chance to get back within the perimeter…”
He hadn’t moved a muscle, simply watched as she struggled to pick her way back, fell face-forward into the grass as the device activated again; not by its setting but by his hand, hidden behind his back.
Every time Dani went just a little too far in one go for his taste, he pressed the button, stopping her dead in her tracks. Not like she had any grip on how many seconds had passed anyway…
Teeth clenched, Dani fought her way back, trying to move through the paralysing pain. Every inch she gained would make this stop faster. She managed to stay on her hands and knees, simply letting the pain shoot through her and endure, so she could stay upright and immediately inch closer when her muscles were under her control again.
And finally, as she pulled herself up the porch, it stopped. She lay there clutching at the wooden boards, breathing heavily as if she’d just clawed her way back out of a river, holding on for dear life afraid the stream might drag her back.
“Well, now, look at that,” Roman crooned, lightly kicking at her hips, gesturing to her long legs still on the grass. “At least now you know what the safe zone is. Look, you could sit over there in the sun next time.” He put the remote back into his pocket, after completely turning the device off for a bit. A little surprise for next time she tried to sunbathe.
A hand snagged in her hair. He pulled her up and hissed in her face,
“Now, I sincerely hope you didn’t think we were done here.”
-
Tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @whumpifi @whumpy-daydreams @whumpyourdamnpears @auroragehenna @alsolucakairomi @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumppmuhw
#whump#lady whump#sadistic whumper#manhandling#electrocution#defiant whumpee#bastard whumpee#shock collar#well sort of shock ankle band#whumpee fighting back#just completely one-shot your whumper#wreck your whumper#I think she prefers dani darling now#my writing
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Caretaker: "Why did you bring Whumpee back?"
Whumper, eye twitching with bags under them: "They've been talking about their hyperfixation nonstop and I can't take it anymore."
#bonus points if whumper is extremely uncultured and is just like#Whumpee what the hell is a wally darling#whump#whump prompt#whump writing#crack whump#whump humor#whump tropes#whump scene#whump dialogue
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”how could you do that to that character..” how could I NOT. I have the eyes to see the cathedrals on which this character is being inflicted the most gruesome and vile suffering imaginable. and they’re also getting kissed on the forehead while it’s happening.
#DARLINGGGGG#I’m tagging my current fave characters to put in Situations#francis mosses#anastacha mikaelys#that’s not my neighbor#tnmn#wally darling#welcome home#adam raki#adam 2009#jagten#hannibal extended universe#elias Thanatos#men and chicken#That’s all I think :)#whump#whumpee x whumper#pro fiction#antis do not interact#sam and dean winchester#always
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Paxton.
#Whump#whump art#whumpee#pet whump#box boy whump#box boy universe#scarred whumpee#scars#after forever I finally finishes this Paxton paiting#tat was sitting on my hip pile for months now#look at the boy trying to be all cool and mysterious#when in truth he is just shy#my darling#I only wish Tumblr wouldn't kill the image quality like this#oh well
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Lamy can you pretty please write about a yandere Villain or Supervillain or Superhero or Vigilante with a Hero darling?
Don't worry about when you get to this, it's just for fun! It's what I'm hooked on right now :)
My nemesis has presented me with a challenge, and like all great villains, I have tried to be up to the test. Anyyywayyy, tysmm for this ask, Huffle!💙💙 I chose yandere!Supervillain with a hero darling. I hope it is to your liking. Love uuuu!
Poisoned Honey
TW: Abusive relationship, yandere supervillain, blood, injury, drugging, touch-starvation
Notes: This is a lil long, 1.8 k words, so the story is under the cut!
Hero wishes they could move. Run. But, they can't even get up, can't even support their own weight. Their breathing is ragged as they let painful wheezes escape their dry throat, their few fractured ribs straining with the effort. Blood seeps from a gash in their side, hot and frustratingly slow, staining the floor a deep crimson.
They shut their eyes and wince, as a few tears stream down their cheeks. But it isn't from the pain. They've powered through much worse. They're tears of desperation because they know for a fact what they have to do to survive, a cold, hard truth written into a stone that would not weather. There were no hospitals near the old, barren gas station in an abandoned, almost dilapidated part of the city in which they'd taken refuge after Villain had dealt out the worst of their damage.
They scanned the room with their weary eyes, desperate for anything they could use as a makeshift bandage, finding no more than broken glass and old dust everywhere. Their communicator had been smashed under Villain's boot, so they can't even reach out to the hero agency. Some dark part of them contemplated letting their slowly dimming light completely fade away than to resort to their last option.
Supervillain. Ironically, they have healing powers along with others that possess the ability to destroy anything if they wished. A cruelly beautiful paradox. That sounds so much like something Supervillain would say in their silky-smooth, honey-sweet venom of a voice. The necklace around the crime-fighter's neck, one of the few things their nemesis hadn't sought out to destroy, could be used to call the supervillain if they rubbed the charm on it till it changed colour.
They would've destroyed the necklace, that shackle around their neck, but Supervillain would find out. They always found out.
Still hesitant, Hero's hand went up to the pendant, clutching it, but not quite rubbing yet.
When it first started out, whatever they had with Supervillain, it had felt like sweet-smelling flowers just starting to blossom at the start of a spring dream. That had slipped into a nightmare far too painfully fast.
Hero had always been quiet and reserved. They weren't cold or standoffish, but the other heroes just assumed they didn't want anyone to try and talk to them about anything that wasn't work. So, when Supervillain had fought with them for the first time, flashing them a radiant grin, complimenting everything about the hero, from their eyes, to their intelligence and carefully drawn out plans to their soft, flustered laugh. Hero had stayed awake all night, tossing and turning with a euphoria they couldn't comprehend.
Their fights turned into excuses to see each other, Supervillain's advances getting more and more bold, bringing Hero flowers and spoiling them with extravagant gifts and kisses pressed gently to their cheekbones. And after enough pestering, the crime-stopper had finally agreed to move in with them.
Unknowingly chaining themselves up in their own shackles. . .
The dream had quickly dissolved to reveal a nightmare where they were always guessing when Supervillain would be kissing their tired shoulders and lulling them to sleep with fingers softly stroking through their hair and when they would be furious, eyes alight with raging flames, easily overpowering them with the hero's small stature and injecting a drug into their bloodstream that left them completely out of it, a blank slate. Switching between one extreme and the other constantly, enough to drive Hero insane. There were rules. Hero’s twenty-one for crying out loud. They could not go out without the supervillain unless it was for work. They had to return home maximum by midnight.
Hero could handle overprotective. It could even be endearing at times. But this gilded cage built with the bars of Supervillain’s obsession was slowly choking them, smashing all of their hopes like a glass bottle thrown on the sidewalk, shattering to a million pieces. And just like shards of glass, putting them back together was nearly impossible, only serving to make whoever tried bleed.
But still, Hero couldn’t go back to the miserable excuse they’d had for a life before Supervillain. To celebrating birthdays and holidays alone. To eating dinner at an empty table. To stitching up the worst of their wounds without help. They just couldn’t. And Supervillain had made damn sure that there was no one else they could turn to.
“It would be pretty. . .unfortunate if something happened to that lucky person, darling, don’t you think so?” they’d crooned in that silky voice of theirs, their nails digging sharply into the skin of Hero’s arm.
Going back to them was like striking a deal with the devil because he promised you heaven.
But the devil can’t give you heaven. . .
Exactly. And yet you will still go through with the deal.
Before Hero can lament their indecisiveness any further, fate intervenes to make their decision for them.
The master criminal lands next to them with a swish of their dark cape, their face marred with worry. They waste no time in scooping them against their chest in a bridal carry, pressing their hands to the bloodied gashes scattered all over the crime-stopper’s body. They feel the familiar warmth of their wounds closing under the supervillain’s touch. Once they were done, the numb sensation disappears, and the pain washes over them again, making them lurch forward in the master criminal’s grasp.
*******************************************************
“What the hell were you thinking?” Supervillain screams, but it falls on deaf ears. Hero had grown frighteningly accustomed to the master criminal’s lectures, consisting purely of them being berated like some troublemaking child and then the details of the exact ‘punishment’ they would receive, how all of this was for their safety, how they shouldn’t dare to defy the supervillain ever again, yadda yadda yadda. It felt like terrible background music, like that song they always skipped whenever it came on the radio in their car. So, they stay silent through it all, gaze downcast, because they don’t have the energy, neither mental nor physical to meet the full intensity of the villain’s livid gaze. They just nod, shake their head, give the one-word answers the criminal wanted to hear.
And of course, the dreaded consequence. “This time, the dosage is twice as strong. To make sure you’ve learned. You know this is for your own good, doll?”
They nod sharply, like they actually believe it, focusing on bracing themselves for the sharp pinch of the needle breaking their skin, emptying its sinister contents into their bloodstream. It leaves them drugged out of their mind, feeling like their head had been emptied and refilled with cotton. Supervillain knew that even if they stuck around, even if they try to hide it, Hero holds whatever semblance of their freedom in high regard. Just the idea that they had virtually no control over themselves for a few hours was enough to terrify them into obedience.
When they snap out of it, there are no new injuries on them, absolutely nothing would change. Like every single time. The issue was, that the master criminal had blatantly refused to tell them whatever was being done to them when they were in that state. They stopped asking, but it never failed to keep them up at night.
*******************************************************
The next day, Supervillain had taken them to a luxurious hotel, a gesture that would have previously left them tongue-tied, squealing an ‘it’s too much!’ as they tried to hide how flattered they were. Now, they just feel numb. Empty. The way they do all the time.
At least staying in the hotel room is a change of scenery, so they don’t feel so much like they’re in a prison as they would have sleeping in their room back at Supervillain’s. “A new, temporary, gilded cage.” They snort to themselves, staring straight up at the dim lights hanging from the ceiling, as they lay flat on the bed.
Hero wakes up at an absurdly early hour, all the sleep magically disappearing from their eyes. So, they decide to shower, trying their hardest to focus on the water’s comforting heat, on the flowery smell of the hair conditioner, on anything that wasn’t the never-ending waterfall of terrible thoughts in their mind or the vice-like grip of a tightness in their chest left by guilt.
Taking a look at themselves in the bathroom mirror, Hero quickly notices the dark circles under their eyes and how much of a resemblance they bear to a stick figure in the bathrobe hanging loosely off their frame. They hadn’t been eating much lately. Lost their appetite among other things
When they finish, they find Supervillain awake and waiting for them, patiently sitting cross-legged on one of the seats in the room, smiling sweetly at them. They sit them down onto the chair next to them, and they stand up behind Hero. They place their hands delicately on the crime-fighter’s narrow shoulders, their knuckles warm as they gently applied pressure a little underneath their shoulder blades.
Oh how they hate that the master criminal is ironically incredibly good at comforting them. How they involuntarily lean into the touch, how the tension blissfully dissipates from their form.
“Just relax, dove. Focus on the touch, that’s it,” they whisper softly, and all the crime-stopper does is obey. What other option was there?
Their eyes flit over to a flock of birds flying through the sky as the earliest rays of the sun start to show themselves, the midnight blue of the sky fading to show stripes of brilliant oranges and pinks on a pale blue canvas. They envy those birds so much, to the point that it feels as though their appearance was simply to mock the hero.
*******************************************************
At dinner time, they try to distract themself with the food on their plate. Chicken curry had always been their favourite. It tastes impeccable here, shame they can’t actually enjoy it.
“I know what happened yesterday was pretty overkill, but it’s because I love you. I worry about you so much, sweetness. I figured I’d bring you over here to ease things up. Feeling better?” the supervillain questioned, so awfully concerned for them. How lovely.
And just like every time, whether it was at a restaurant, the movies, wherever, Hero gives them a small smile. “Much better, thank you,” they reply in a silky voice, with an ease born of practice
The first time, they’d actually fallen for the whole apology shtick. Right now, it’s just another part of the convoluted routine of their life.
They were both such wonderful actors in a sick, twisted, little fantasy. They knew full-well it was anything but real, an illusion born of cruel lies and gift-wrapped in skillful manipulation. Entrancingly beautiful like a bouquet of belladonna but just as damningly fatal. Sweet like honey and deadly like poison.
✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @catsarecool00 @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump
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#the little gremlin answers#hero x villain#hero x supervillain#yandere supervillain x hero darling#yandere whump#hero whumpee#supervillain whumper#whump#angst#abusive relationship tw#touch starvation tw#blood tw#villain whumper#lamy writes#a little gremlin's writing#writers on tumblr#female writers#writing#fiction#this was new#first time trying yandere whump AND h x v together#hope I did it right#I hope you enjoy this#and ty for this ask#first long fic in a while woooo!
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this is a disgustingly fluffy prompt so beware slfkdh
caretaker always calls whumpee a word in their (caretaker‘s) native language, which whumpee doesn’t understand. but since they are very self loathing they just assume it’s something negative, since caretaker has to spend so much time and energy caring for and „tolerating“ whumpee. one day whumpee gets too curious though and decides to look up the word, only to find out it’s a pet name and caretaker has been calling them something lovingly the entire time
(bonus points if you do it in your native language i love learning new cute pet names!!)
sorry to all hungarians i know seeing this will cause some whiplash
tw pet whump, past trauma, caretaker new master
‘Easy, szívem.’
‘Szívem, could you bring me some water?’
‘You don’t have to push yourself, szívem.’
Whumpee accepted the nickname as their own easily. Whumper had given them plenty, although never ones they couldn’t even understand; useless, stupid, mutt… who knew which one Caretaker was using on them?
They avoided asking about it for the longest time. They told themself they were prepared for the meaning, that they could handle whatever degrading thing their new master ‘friend’ threw at them, but in reality… They weren’t prepared at all. They didn’t want to know. They wanted to pretend it was something nice, a term of genuine endearment, dear, darling, honey… Something people said to each other with kindness.
But eventually, curiosity won out. Whumpee sneaked into the study one day, picking out one of the dictionaries from the shelf. They thought about using the computer, but they chickened out. It would’ve been a much more egregious crime than opening a book.
The issue was, they had no idea how to spell the word. They started at ‘S’, flipping through pages upon pages and finding nothing. See-vem. See-vem. None of the words looked right. They eventually crossed over into the next letter, ‘Sz’, unsure what sound that would even make. It was all so confusing… How did Caretaker even speak this?
“Can I help you?”
Whumpee flinched at the voice, slamming the dictionary shut immediately. “C-Caretaker– I– I wasn’t– I wasn’t doing anything! I was cleaning, and the book fell down, I was just trying to check whether it was intact–”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” they said with a smile. “I’m not mad, szívem. But if you were looking for something specific in there, maybe I could help.”
“N-no, no, it’s… it’s nothing… I…” They took a deep breath, trying to ground themself. It was now or never, really. They wouldn’t get a better chance to ask. “Well… I, I was wondering about, um… The nickname, I guess. What you always call me.”
“Ah, of course. I’m sorry, I’ve never really explained it, have I? It’s just a term of endearment.” They pulled out their phone and typed something. “I’m pretty sure the dictionary only has the root word. Here.”
Whumpee took the phone gingerly, looking at the translation program. Original word, in Hungarian: szívem. Yeah, they would’ve never gotten that right. Translation, in English…
Their eyes widened in disbelief. Next to them, Caretaker chuckled. “What did you think it meant?” they asked cheerily, seemingly unaware of all the horrible options that had been swirling around in Whumpee’s head before.
“I… I don’t even know,” they breathed.
They definitely didn’t think it meant something as innocent as ‘my heart’.
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i raise you, a vampire that always keeps their thrall in a sleepy/blissful state cause they think it’s endearing. especially since the thrall was previously a ball of anxiety that couldn’t relax whatsoever before the vampire intervened
WOHEO Masterlist
God, yes!! This is so good, thank you!!
cw: vampire whumper, human whumpee, hypnosis
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“How did you…?” the vampire watched as Malak clung to the couch, desperate to keep himself from toppling over.
“I- please- I don’t-” the human’s eyes widened, his breath becoming frantic and short as he attempted to speak. His lip quivered, matching the tremble of his pale hands.
Malak’s head throbbed, discombobulated and out of order from the whirlwind consuming him. It was as if he’d been pulled from a trance of heavenly paradise, suddenly unraveling the strings of his brain. Somehow, someway he couldn’t seem to grasp, he’d escaped the clutches of a mind-bending monster, one out to steal his autonomy to the highest degree.
Overwhelmed with the only urge to escape, one that had been weakened by the vampire’s strength, he had done his very best to obey. Fighting against his strangely heavy and uncoordinated body, he had tried so hard. A voice pounded in his head, screaming at him to liberate himself.
Adrastus took a step forward, their hands held out to the other man in a comforting manner. “Darling, what happened?” Immediately, Malak attempted to run, instead slipping on his own feet, his legs far cumbersome to operate successfully.
Hitting the chill, wood flooring, an unfamiliar strike of pain cut through him. A whimper escaped his salty lips, wet from tears previously cascading down his red cheeks. In the blink of an eye, a pair of perfectly polished boots appeared level with his gaze.
He squealed, attempting to escape again, unsuccessfully. The sleepy weight of his body allowed for little movement, and thus he was easily captured by the monster. Inhumanly strong arms wrapped around his abdomen, lifting Malak into the arms of the vampire with a huff.
He desperately attempted to thrash in their hold, to no avail. While much too disoriented to resist successfully, Adrastus giggled at their discomfort. “It’s alright darling, I’m here now.” They soothed, inciting only more wiggling. They casually made their way around the couch, unbothered by the struggling man in their arms.
Malak’s head spun, the concoction of anxiousness and panic twisting in his stomach. A jumble of thoughts overwhelmed him, incomprehensibly spiraling in his brain. He sputtered unintelligibly, coherent words melting on his tongue.
Adrastus plopped onto one cushion, gently sitting Malak on their lap. Before allowing the human a chance to make any move, no matter how feeble, they softly trailed a calming hand from Malak’s forehead, down to his chin, silencing their human immediately. “Hush, sweetie. No need to worry, I’ll fix you up, easy peasy.” They flashed the human a fang-filled smile.
Instantly, Malak’s brain liquified into a pile of goop. The whirlwind of awareness ceased, leaving only the commanding touch of the vampire.
Adrastus slipped their hand from Malak’s back, gingerly draping him across their own lap. A wave of pleasure washed over him, settling and returning with each motion of Adrastus’ nimble fingers combing through his hair, lightly scratching at the surface of his scalp. With each repeat, the cloud in his mind only grew foggier, hazed with overwhelming bliss.
Drowsily, Malak adjusted his position, shifting his head to lay on Adrastus’ slender legs. “All better now, right?” In return, they merely received the slightest of a nod.
“I’m so glad. I mean, I’m shocked as well!” Adrastus pinched at their human’s cheek sweetly. “How could such a feeble little mind like yours escape my power? I haven’t seen you remotely lucid in months!” they exclaimed.
The words simply flew right over Malak’s head, too enraptured in the urge to sleep to pay much attention. Absentmindedly, he grunted, and nuzzled closer into the lush fabric of the vampire’s sweater, basking in the warmth. “So sluggish, aren’t you? Just a sleepy little boy. A good little thrall.” They let out a light chuckle, continuing to pet their thrall to unconsciousness.
“My sleepy little boy, my good little thrall.” Malak’s heart practically soared at the praise. To his delight, Adrastus pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re just adorable, all dazed and disoriented. I wouldn’t prefer my thrall any other way.”
“I mean, you enjoy it too don’t you? I can’t imagine how it must have felt escaping from such a long period of mindless bliss. Snapping into awareness must have been so terrifying.” Pouting, Adrastus delicately swiped away the last slick tear from Malak’s red cheeks. “That’s why you can’t let that happen again, alright? I couldn’t imagine what you did to allow your consciousness so close to the surface, but surely you’ve learned your lesson now?”
Malak nodded eagerly, shaken over the idea of displeasing the vampire. “Such confusing emotions of fear and distress just aren’t fit for a thrall as cute as you!” A wide, dull-eyed smile couldn’t help but spread across the human’s face.
“Must’ve just been all that anxiousness stirring inside that tummy of yours. I'll be sure to arrange that a similar situation does not arise again.” The assurance was comforting, yet Malak couldn’t help but sense a slight anguish stirring inside him.
#asks :)#Don’t know how much I like this but I really wanted to get it done#whump#whumpblr#pet whump#Hypnosis whump#vampire whump#whump writing#My writing#vampire whumper#human whumpee#Malak oc#Adrastus oc#we only have each other
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Whump Prompt- Imagine dehumanization in the opposite direction. Whumper idolizes Whumpee. No darling, you can't go outside, you're too sweet and perfect and fragile. You're my perfect little doll. Even when Whumpee misbehaves, Whumper chalks it up to Whumpee's fragile nature and continues to coddle them like they're some precious object that needs constant care and maintenance. Only the softest restraints, the finest clothes, tender touches, delectable meals, drugs administered via pill or gas to avoid those awful needle marks, and the best gilded cage money can buy.
#whump prompt#dehumanization#yandere whumper#possessive whumper#darling whumpee#obsessive whumper#carewhumper#whump#hurt/comfort#writing#writeblr#creative writing#writing prompt#prompt
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Yes, yes, Whumpee being forced to dig their own grave, love it.
Now consider: Whumpee being forced to dig a grave. But it's not for them.
They don't know. Yet. So they get to work, snivelling, sobbing, pleading with every haul of sand they throw over their shoulder.
"Hush now, darling, this is not for you."
Whumpee glances up, tears in their eyes.
"It's for your cellmate," Whumper says with a wicked grin. He brings a finger to his lips. "Don't tell them yet. It's our secret."
Bonus: their cellmate is Caretaker
#whump#whump prompt#angst#implied murder#caretaker#whumplr#multiple whumpees#sadistic whumper#my prompts#my writing
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Whumper, ripping off the last page of their calendar and tossing it to Whumpee's feet: That's another year, darling. And not a single person has found you. Give up, because your friends already did.
#happy 2024 everyone#hopefully happy#this has been a wild and quick year#whump#whumpblr#whump writing#whump prompt#whump tropes#creepy whumper#intimate whumper#psychological whump#psychological torture#manipulative whumper#defiant whumpee
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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.
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“I hate myself,” Whumpee rasped, their eyes filling with familiar tears, “I hate myself for how much I miss you…”
They leant their head against the window as they were engulfed in sobs.
“Oh darling, then you’re gonna be glad for what’s about to happen now.”
In a sudden movement, Whumpee’s head snapped to look at Whumper, their face paling, “How- how did you-“
“Escape?” Whumper chuckled, “Thats for me to know and you to find out, my little dove.”
#whump#whumpee#whump drabble#whumper#lee wrote something :o#whumpblr#whump community#whump writing#intimate whumper
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There are 3 kinds of whumpers when it comes to whumpee saying something along the lines of "You'll never get anything out of me, not even if you kill me!"
The whumper that softly caresses whumpee's cheek and whispers into their ear: "Oh, darling, what would be the fun of killing you?" (Most favorite, the implications are divine)
The whumper that menacingly responds with something like: "Bold of you to assume I'd grant you the mercy of death." (Pretty good, super ominous)
The whumper that goes "Okay" and then kills whumpee. (Least favorite, character death makes me sad)
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The Raid
CW: kidnapped whumpee, conditioned/helpless whumpee, pirate whumper, mermaid whumpee, anxiety, language barriers, whumpee thinks caretaker is new whumper, a teensy bit of dehumanization, character death
Whumpee shivers in fear as yet another blast sounds from above deck, rattling the entire ship and creating a ripple in the wooden tub that had served as her prison for gods know how long. She sinks as far underwater as she can get, taking deep breaths through her gills in a last-ditch attempt to calm down.
BOOM! Her sanctuary is shaken, and through the water Whumpee can make out muffled shouting. They sound angry. Her breathing grows quicker. THUD! A body falls to the ground right above the room where she is being held. In shock, she pops her head above the water as if she could see what was happening, and within seconds, another BLAST sends her underwater again.
She hugs her tail as best as she can with it being chained to the side of the tub. Whatever was happening up there, it wouldn’t end well for Whumpee. The Captain doted on her, claiming that she was their crew's most precious treasure, but she felt a lot more like a punching bag.
She had long since accepted her helplessness. If there was a mutiny, frustration would eventually be taken out on Whumpee. If the crew was being raided or attacked, and the ship sunk, she would not be able to unlock the chain that confines her to this cabin, and would be doomed to starve. Even if she was so well behaved, even when the crew was getting along and living lavishly, a reason would still be found to torment her. To pirates like them, treasure was nothing other than spoils of battle to admire and play with.
She is torn out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps making their way towards the Captain’s cabin. There are no more blasts, but Whumpee hears unfamiliar voices arguing with Captain Whumper just outside.
“It’s over…” Whumpee has only learned a bit of the common tongue, Alman, since being in captivity, but she hangs onto every word she can, placing her hands on the edge of the tub to get closer to the door, “give...everything you have and we…allow…on a lifeboat…”
Whumper says something too quiet for Whumpee to make out, but it angers whoever is attacking. Blades are suddenly clashing against each other, and water sloshes as Whumpee jumps back. Oh gods, oh gods, Whumpee’s mind is racing and the ship is being raided and Whumper is upset and what if she’s stolen again--Whumper and the crew are going to be so so so mad either way.
She is so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t even realize that the commotion has stopped. After a few moments of silence, she hears shuffling around the room, no speaking, not any she can make out anyways. Drawers opening, keys jangling, and more footsteps up on the main deck. Uncertainty hangs in the air, seeping into her days-old water and making it feel acidic against her scales.
Keys are shoved into the door to her tiny cabin off of the Captain’s. Involuntarily, Whumpee whimpers and shuts her eyes. She typically dreads each time the door clicks unlocked, but this time, she really hopes it’s Captain Whumper. She can’t bear to be stolen again.
The door creaks open, and Whumpee holds her breath.
“Shit…” the unfamiliar voice muses, obviously taking in the sight of a mermaid before them. It was going to happen again, and just like last time, she had no way out. “Whumper…lying…quite the collection.” Whumpee tries to keep up with the Alman grammar, but the voice speaks with a dialect and she can’t understand. Would she have to learn another language now?
She slowly opens her eyes to see a humanoid figure with long, curly dark hair. Their hair, along with their face and clothes, are plastered with blood and soot, and in the distance, Captain Whumper has been impaled, laying face down on the carpet he once punished Whumpee for spilling ale on. Everything goes numb. Whumper is dead.
“...little one?” The figure asks, and Whumpee’s heart drops into her stomach. She wasn’t listening.
“U-uh, sorry,” she struggles to find the words in her haze. So many things are happening at once, and she can’t move or think. She averts her eyes to the water, “did not…hear, sorry.”
The figure crouches down a bit closer, blocking Whumpee’s view of the dead Captain, and Whumpee’s shoulders tense. “It’s alright. I just asked…name?”
“Name…name is Whumpee…” she paused, unsure of how to address her new captor. Would they even capture her? Whumpee notices the glint of another dagger at the person’s hip. Or…would they just kill her like they did with Whumper?
“Alright, Whumpee…is that name Aquan?” The figure questions, and Whumpee nods sheepishly. “I never…Aquan…talk to our Captain later.” Whumpee’s eyes dart to where Captain Whumper is lying dead behind the figure. “Hey…it’s okay.” They pause, looking down at the bruises that litter her skin, the chain around her sprained tail, her swollen gills and bloodshot eyes, and let out a sigh. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”
Whumpee’s eyes well up with tears. She has been hurt. So much. She nods again, much faster this time.
“...Well listen, once…clear out…get some help…healing…okay?” Another nod from Whumpee. All she can do is nod now, her mind racing with thoughts of Whumper’s death and being punished for the blood on the carpet and this raider asking her questions and her water being dirty and being hurt for so long and it’s all too much. But healing and help…sounds nice. Even if it means being captured once more.
“Caretaker!” someone yells out, and the figure looks behind them.
Another raider enters the small room, glancing surprisedly at the mermaid before conversing too quickly for Whumpee to understand. The conversation ends with a hearty laugh from Caretaker and they turn to the wooden tub once more. “We…business…but I promise after…help get the chain off…to our ship.” Caretaker takes Whumpee’s frail hand in theirs and squeezes gently. “...be right back.”
Caretaker exits and shuts the door to shield Whumpee’s eyes from the dead Captain, but the clicking of the lock isn’t heard. Still feeling overwhelmed, Whumpee sinks under the water once more, curls into her tail, and lets out a sob.
#whump#mer whump#mermaid whumpee#pirate whump#rescue#morally grey caretaker#captive whumpee#abused whumpee#caretaker new whumper#language barriers#scared whumpee#pirate whumper#cruel whumper#helplessness#I got so many whumperflies while writing this#so I think I'm finally doing this right#darling writes
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"Open up your heart to me, darling," whispers the whumper with a soft, loving voice as they push their sharp knife against the middle of the whumpee's chest. Whumpee flinches and gasps for a quick second when the knife pricks their skin, but they can't help themselves to get away from their lover because of the drug in their blood that paralyzes their body.
Whumper shushes whumpee as they're watching tiny rivers that run from the cut. They know that sweet kisses from a loved one may make you feel better, so they create a crimson track with kisses that starts from one end of the cut and ends up in their face. Then they lean back and look down at whumpee's faded face. They look beautiful even when they are a little bit nervous and in pain, whumper thought, it must be hard to do, but they are handling it very well.
After healing their baby, whumper starts observing the cut again. The flesh still twitches because of whumpee's pounding heart. They are so in love, whumper thought and said, "I love you too, baby; I'm so into you. If you have had a chance to look at my heart, you would also see a heart that beats for you as well."
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