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hatelangdon · 8 months

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Fever

Pt 1, Pt 2 / 3k words.

(Franken!Kyle x Witch!Reader)

Hurt/comfort, & fluff, Slight angst (it's just me rambling about Kyle's mistreatment from the Coven)

(🚨 Warnings: Talks of Fever, Being sick, Vomiting (not in detail), seperation anxiety, Crying, Zoe and Madison being terrible caregivers so neglect, problems with eating and drinking🚨)

Summary: Kyle doesn't feel good, he hasn't for a while...but what he needs now is kindness, understanding, and care from someone who actually wants the best for him.

(A/N: We all just want Kyle to feel better, he's so sweet. You could honestly just read this one by itself, but if you want more lore I would look into the last 2 parts...I definitely got carried away so I understand if ya'll don't feel like reading all this but I TOLD YALL I LOVE WHUMP but Misty is back and Kyle is wearing silly straw glasses so how mad could you be? I would highly recommend that you listen to this song near the end of the story , it adds a layer of sentiment that I can't even describe. I hope you have all enjoyed this little series as much as i've enjoyed writing it <3)

Also, this is not proofread so there's probably errors, ya'll know the drill by now.

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When you returned with the broom and dustpan to clean the glass up, Kyle was laying in the bed twirling the ring around his pinky. He was so enamored by its beauty that he barely even noticed when you came back, until you started to sweep the glass off the floor.

He realized your presence and perked up, watching you with big eyes.

“H-help?” He started sitting up, but you gently pushed him back down onto the pillows.

"I got it Kyle. You need to rest, and I don't want you to accidentally step on something" You assured him.

Cordelia had taught him how to sweep since he basically became the coven’s butler after Zoe and Madison decided to bring him back from the dead. This always raised ethical concerns in your mind because…why would they do that?

Kyle must’ve had dreams of his own, he was in college, he had friends that cared about him, he had a life that he wanted to live. Now he was unable to communicate and in constant pain from the terrible stitch job that Madison and Zoe had used to put him back together. His body never felt like his own, and thats because it wasn't...fully; They had decided to stitch Kyle back together using the body parts of his fellow frat brothers, which caused a lot of issues for both his mental and physical health.

It was all wrong. He was wrongfully killed in a bus crash, by Madison's hand and then he was brought back to be Zoe and Madison's personal toy & used as "the help"

Bringing someone back from the dead after you killed them, just so you could have sex and make them clean your house and serve you drinks didn't seem morally correct or fair. Those two had played “build a boyfriend” with Kyle’s life and didn't even take care of him properly.

Kyle never once took his eyes off of you while you swept, he had always admired how pretty you were and how warm your heart was.

After all of the glass was cleaned up and disposed of, you sat on the side of the bed, gently taking your ring from Kyle's hand and putting it back on your finger

"I told you I would be back" you stroked his hand with your thumb, and he gave you a gentle, sleepy, smile.

“P-p-pretty” Kyle blinked at you, still smiling

“yeah, it is a pretty ring isn't it? I can get you one like it, would you like that Kyle?"

He took a minute, allowing himself to fully decipher your words, before nodding and placing a gentle hand on your cheek

“Y-you pretty.” He blinked hard, and nodded again to insure you knew what he was talking about.

You felt your face heat up and your heart flutter like it housed a butterfly garden,

“thank you Kyle. You are very kind.”

Your words only made his smile bigger.

You had moved yourself to the side of the bed, your back resting on the wall. Kyle balled himself next to you, resting his head on your lap.

You rubbed the side of his head with your thumb to let him know that you were with him, even as he slept. You could feel that he still had a fever....in fact he was burning up. Luckily, he was being taken care of and resting, maybe that was all that he needed.

Kyle only slept for an hour before all hell broke loose

You had stayed where you were, you didn't mind since Kyle was resting peacefully on your lap and no one really noticed that you hadn't come out of your room, it was still pretty early in the day.

You just sat there watching tv on your phone. Kyle had started to stir in your lap, his eyebrows furrowed like he was uncomfortable. He curled in on himself tighter, practically hugging his knees to his chest.

You ran your nails down his spine, hoping to comfort him a bit. His eyes suddenly opened and he sat up, looking panicked and tapping his chest desperately trying to convey something to you.

Your eyes widened, you were just as confused as he was

“Um- what's wrong? Are you choking?” You were very unsure “is it your stitches???”

Kyle’s eyes were tearing up and he started turning red, as he continued to try and show you what was wrong with him by patting his chest. He started gagging and you realized what the issue was, quickly.

“NO! NO! KYLE PLEASE DO NOT THROW UP ON MY BED” You practically sprung 4 feet off the bed and tackled the trashcan by your desk, luckily there was a bag in it. You rushed it over and put it in front of him.

“You’re okay Kyle, just let it up” you rubbed his back gently, as he dry heaved over the bin, sobbing. He didn’t understand why this was happening to him, why his stomach hurt so much, and why his throat burned. The muscle tension from him being bent over and heaving caused his stitches to pull on his skin, which made his experience much more painful.

You hated to see him this way, you didn’t think it would get this bad but he was clearly much sicker than you had anticipated, the sound of him being sick and his desperate cries broke your heart, but all you could do was stay there with him and talk him through it.

“I know it hurts Ky, I know. Just keep breathing. It’ll be over soon.” You pressed your lips to the back of his neck, rubbing on his shoulders.

You could tell he was finished when the heaving stopped and he was just crying with his head in the bin.

You took it away from him with your eyes closed tying up the bag, you’d deal with it later.

Kyle was back lying on the bed, curled up in fetal position while his body shook with sobs. He was exhausted and everything hurt.

“Ky, I know you don’t feel good. I’m sorry.” You were gentle with him, squeezing his hand “I’m gonna get you something to drink okay? You need to hydrate. It’ll help your throat.” you tried to sound encouraging, but he didn’t seem to care at all.

He turned to you, sniffling while his eyes still pooled with tears and his nose blushed in bright hue of strawberry rouge, he held his hand out expectantly.

You looked around confused at first, until you realized that he was eyeing your ring. He had remembered.

You smiled, and pushed it into his palm, closing his fingers around it and kissing the back of his hand.

You made your way down to the kitchen to get some water from the brita, you used some old water bottle you got from a school event, it was best to give Kyle a drink with a lid, because he was prone to suddenly jerking his body. You came back upstairs, where Kyle was staring at the wall completely worn out.

“I’m back, ky”

He just hummed, his eyes closed to keep the light out. You had noticed Kyle didn't like to drink water that much, he didn’t really know why he needed to, so Zoe and Madison would just give him Diet Coke and apple juice all day to keep him quiet. This was a habit you could have fixed, but you didn't feel like arguing and Kyle needed fluids and electrolytes in him immediately.

You opened your nightstand, You kept cherry flavored liquid iv in your top drawer because you were also prone to forgetting to hydrate. You poured the powder in, shaking it up so it would be dissolved.

You kneeled next to the bed, running your hands through Kyle’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“Here Kyle, sip it. I made it sweet for you, it’ll help you feel a bit better”

He nodded, sipping on the water bottle, he liked it enough to take it from your hands and try to drink from it himself, it took him 10 seconds before accidentally squirting himself in the face, flinching

"Careful, Kyle" you took it from him, and he grunted.

You looked around your room for a better straw for him to sip on, your eyes landed on your desk. You had a pair of those silly straw glasses, from your little cousin's birthday party. You looked between the glasses and Kyle's wet face and knew exactly what he needed.

You grabbed them and tapped Kyle on the shoulder so he would look up at you.

“I’m gonna put these on you, alright?”

Kyle was intrigued by the tubing, but he recognized that they were also glasses of some kind and allowed you to put them behind his ears.

You were careful putting the straw back into the cup, making sure he would be able to actually drink it.

“Okay Ky, these are very special glasses,” you showed him the part of the straw that went into his mouth and he just stared at you, tilting his head in confusion “You’re just gonna drink from it like a regular straw.”

You helped him put it in between his lips and he did as he was told, sucking on it like a normal straw. When he realized that the liquid was circling his eyes and coming all the way around the glasses, he immediately gave you a giddy smile thinking it was the coolest thing in the world.

He suddenly latched onto your waist from where you stood in front of him, hugging you close. His head rested on your chest while he happily sipped on his water. This took you by surprise, but all you did was pat his blonde head and return the favor by wrapping your arms around his back, giggling at the unanticipated declaration of love.

“Y/n care Kyle?” He took the straw out of his mouth, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

You nodded, giving him a smile. You had never felt so much love and admiration for someone in such a little amount of time.

“Yes Kyle, I care about you very much. I will always value you and make sure you’re treated well from now on.”

He smiled, and went back to sipping his drink through his silly little glasses, still holding onto you.

All you wanted to do was keep him safe and comfortable in your arms but you still had other things to attend to, like breakfast for both of you…well brunch.

“Kyle,” You were careful with your movements as you wriggled your way out of his grip, you watched his entire face drop as he reached out for you once again wondering why you suddenly didn’t want to cuddle him. It took every ounce of your strength to not jump right back into the bed and hold him.

“I gotta make us some food, are you hungry?” You put your hands on the sides of his face.

“Hungry.” He repeated, nodding.

“Okay, I’m gonna make you something. Do you know what you want?”

“Mac n cheese.”

“Alright, I’ll make you some Mac and cheese.” You made your way to the door and Kyle tried to follow, holding his water and looking at you like a lost puppy.

“Ky, you can’t come. You’re sick honey.” You guided him back to the bed

“Cold. B-bored.” He whined, trying to pull you into the bed with him. If he wasn’t sick he probably would have been able to.

“No Kyle, I gotta go. I’ll only be gone a little while.”

That’s when the tears started, he was exhausted and these past couple of days had been really difficult for him. He felt like you weren’t listening to him, like you didn’t care.

“Oh no no no, Kyle please don’t cry my angel,” You sat with him, wiping his tears away “I know you don’t feel good and you want me to hold you, I promise I will come back. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I would never lie to you Ky.”

He sniffled, he didn’t get it 100%, words always got fuzzy in his mind but as he studied your face, he realized the sincerity in your eyes.

“I think it will help if I make the room comfy for you, hm?” You got up and closed your black out curtains which helped take some strain off of Kyle’s eyes and dull his headache, you had twinkling fairy lights that added some warmth to the room.

Kyle looked around, seeing the change in scenery and almost instantly he felt calmer.

Autumn had just begun, Kyle always loved the change of the seasons, but autumn was his favorite. It was so cozy and pretty.

You set up your laptop on a pillow near him, turning on the first episode of “over the garden wall” and covering him back up with your weighted blanket.

He suddenly felt relieved of all the tension left in his body.

“Is this better?” You rubbed the bottom of his back and he nodded, sipping away on his drink.

He was so entranced by the show, that you were able to slip out without saying another word.

You went down into the kitchen where you were graced by the presence of Misty dancing to Fleetwood Mac and twirling around in her flowy clothes

“Good morning, darlin!” She took your hand and twirled you, “Can I interest you in some French toast? I think I made too much batter.”

Misty was by far your favorite sister in the coven, she was so kind and sympathetic, especially towards the vulnerable creatures of the world.

“oh Misty, you know that I love your French toast, but I gotta make a mac & cheese cup for Kyle so I’m probably gonna eat one too.” You tried to make your way over to the pantry, but Misty pulled you back towards her playfully.

“no, you both can eat my French toast it's better for ya, and I'll even put some strawberries and cream on top to sweeten the deal.”

You happily obliged and sat on one of the bar stools in front of the stove watching Misty do her thing.

“What’re you doing with Kyle, where’s Madison?”

You raised your eyebrows, “Well there was some conflict between the two of them so I decided it would be best if they took a pause- and Kyle is pretty sick, so I told him I’d take care of him.” While it wasn't technically a lie, it also wasn't the truth but you couldn't tell Misty that you had froze Madison in time and kept her in her room for the past 2 days.

“Aw that’s too bad, why didn’t you tell me the poor angel was sick? I made some elderberry gummies a couple of days ago.” She flipped the toast in the pan, “They do wonders for the immune system, we're coming up on cold and flu season. I'm gonna get ya’ll some, I'll be right back!” she skipped off to her room her golden locks bouncing behind her, “if you smell something burning, just take the pan off the heat!”

She came back with a mason jar, filled with dark purple star shaped gummies,

“these will help him get better faster, but you should probably take some too.”

You nodded, giving her a big smile “Thanks Misty, you're the kindest person I know.”

“Awww, you don't have to say that. I try to help out where I can. I've seen you do the same, don't think that big heart of yours goes unnoticed.” She gave you a wink as she plated up French toast for both Kyle and You.

“I’ll cut his up,” She grabbed a butter knife from the drawer, cutting the toast in tiny square pieces, “Now, you go take this up and make sure that boy is taken care of!” She handed both plates off to you and turned her little radio up louder, quietly humming the lyrics to herself while she cooked.

“You could be my silver spring Blue-green colors flashin' I would be your only dream Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin"

The music followed along as you made your way back up the spiral staircase, opening the door to your bedroom to see Kyle resting peacefully with his cheek smushed against your pillow, his eyes sleepily taking in the calm scenes of the show.

“Ky, Misty made us some French toast” you sing-songed.

He turned to you eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't what he asked for., you noticed his confused expression and took a seat on the bed right next to him.

“I know it's not what you asked for, but did you wanna try?” You asked encouragingly.

He could smell it, and he liked the smell, so he was willing to try. He opened his mouth for you to feed him and you stabbed a piece with your fork, placing it in.

He chewed it up, it was very sweet so he liked it and showed you by opening his mouth for another piece. If he wasn't sick, you wouldn't have babied him so much, but you could still feel the warmth of fever on his skin so you needed to coddle him for just a little bit more.

and after a few minutes and what felt like magic you had managed to feed Kyle and yourself with no mess, you placed your dishes on your desk you would worry about them later.

Kyle had felt much better, but he still wanted you all to himself.

“Y/n done?” He perked his head up and looked at you with his big puppy eyes,

“Yes Kyle, I’m all done with everything” You came right over and grabbed his hand, which caused him to smile, shyly.

“L-lay with Kyle..and-and watch p-p-pumpkin?” He pointed to the show, wanting you to enjoy it as much as he did even though you were the one who introduced it.

“Of course, Ky.”

And with that, you wrapped your body right around his, holding him close to your chest. Your fingers intertwined as both of your faces were illuminated by the warm orange lighting of the show. You didn’t know what to call your relationship, you didn’t know if Zoe would ever return, and you didn’t know if you would ever unfreeze Madison by your own will…but you did know one thing, You would love Kyle forever and no one else would ever be able to hurt him as long as there was breath in your body.

#american horror story #ahs coven #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #evan peters #franken kyle #tate langdon #kyle spencer #whump #whumpee #sickfic #hurt/comfort #american horror story coven #american horror murder house #ahs fanfic #evan peters x reader

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i-eat-worlds · 1 month

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let your whumpees do some violent murder. As a treat.

#worlds babbles #whump #whump humor #whump community #whumpee #murder #⭐️X

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whumpshaped · 8 months

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WHUMPEE THINKS CARETAKER IS NEW MASTER

the FEAR

THE MISUNDERSTANDINGS

ESPECIALLY IF CARETAKER IS STRONG OR OTHERWISE POWERFUL?? MMM

ALSO WHEN PAIRED WITH VIOLENT CARETAKER THAT BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF WHUMPER

GOOD SHIT

~🪴~

ah yes. a classic. caretaker being violent and powerful isnt that classic within the trope so naturally im going w that bc i LOVE THAT SHIT

tw murder, captivity, caretaker new master, conditioned whumpee, knives

"What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?" Caretaker tightened their grip on Whumper's neck, threatening to snap it altogether. Whumpee watched from the corner of their cell, absolutely petrified. "Did you think no one would find out? Did you think you'd get away with it?"

"I hoped so," Whumper choked out, which only caused more anger and Caretaker slamming them against the wall a second time.

"Well, you were fucking wrong."

Whumpee was shivering violently from the cold and the fear as they watched Whumper's eyes eventually roll back. They passed out. They might bleed out as well, depending on whether Caretaker would allow them medical attention. God... they were alone with Caretaker now. The only two conscious people in the room.

"P-please don't hurt me," they squeaked. "I'll be good..." When Caretaker turned to look at them, they immediately lifted their hands to shield their face, whimpering. "Please, p-please, I've been trained, I'll do whatever you want–"

"Okay, okay, let's calm down. I'll finish the job here and then we'll talk."

Finish..? Whumpee peeked out from between their fingers and saw Caretaker pull a knife from their belt. Oh dear god. They couldn't even fully comprehend it when they saw the blade be buried deep inside Whumper's throat. They could only stare and cry.

Medical attention... as if.

"I realise how this must look to you," Caretaker said calmly as they wiped the knife off on Whumper's clothes. "I'm sorry you had to see it. But the thing is... Whumper was a vicious fucking murderer, and I'm not in the business of letting those kinda people live." They glanced at Whumpee before taking the keys to the cell from Whumper's pocket. "Are you a vicious murderer?"

"N-no, no, Master." The title came instinctually, and Caretaker didn't bat an eye. It was expected, then. Probably. They wanted to point out the apparent contradiction of being so against murderers while murdering them, but decided against it.

"Then you have absolutely nothing to fear." They unlocked the cell and walked inside, and Whumpee was beginning to realise just how much bigger and stronger Caretaker was. Bigger than them, yes, but also bigger than Whumper. Stronger too, by the looks of that corpse.

Whumpee forced themself to lower their hands and get into a proper kneeling position, no matter how much their body trembled. They had to be good. They had to be perfect. "D-do with me what you will, Ma-Master. But– but please know I'm, I'm very well-trained, I don't need to be hurt to follow orders, I– I know my place, so please–"

"Oh, quit it." The order was gentle and quiet, and Caretaker just scooped Whumpee into their arms afterwards. No questions asked. "You don't need to be 'good' anymore. You're free."

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

#asks #plant anon #whumpsday #whump #whump drabble #rescue #murder #captivity #caretaker new master #conditioned whumpee #knives

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whump-mania · 1 month

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Dialogue Lines: Whumpee/Whumper/Caretaker Variations

(TWs: torture, cursing, collars, implied murder, drugging, nightmares)

~~~

Whumpee

Classic Whumpee Lines

1. “Touch me and it’s fucking over for you.”

2. “Please, please, I-I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to mess up, please don’t hurt me!”

3. “What’s the point of trying? I’m never getting out of here.”

4. “I-It hurts…it h-hurts so bad…why won’t it g-go away…?”

5. “Keep me chained up here all you want. You’re never gonna hear shit from me, buddy.”

Whumpee turned Caretaker

1. “Hey, I know, I know how much it hurts. Just breathe. Think of something else. That’s what helped me.”

2. “They got you too? That bastard. I’m so sorry.”

3. “Yes, I do! I do fucking understand, because I lived it! Now let me help you!”

4. “I didn’t get someone to help me through this when I was there. I want to be that person for you.”

5. “You remind me of myself…back then. Before they broke me.”

Whumpee turned Whumper

1. “Payback, bitch.”

2. “No. You don’t get to complain. Don’t you remember the rules against speaking out?”

3. “This collar…oh yeah, you remember it, huh? You always liked it on the tightest setting, didn’t you? Let’s start with that.”

4. “Back then, before you, I always thought every person deserved mercy. But no. You’re not even a person.”

5. “Wait, you’re crying? Come on, Whumper, are you kidding?! It took you weeks to make me cry for the first time, and you’re giving up on the first day?”

~~~

Caretaker

Classic Caretaker Lines

1. “This is gonna hurt. It’ll be over soon.”

2. “You think a little nightmare’s gonna hurt you? Nah. I’m here now. I’ll fight it off.”

3. “Just let them down for a second—Let me at least give them some water, it’s been almost two days!”

4. “I don’t know how you were even able to go through something like that…you’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”

5. “Come on, get up. Fresh bandage time—no, I don’t have to clean them today. That’s tomorrow.”

Caretaker turned Whumpee

1. “How…h-how did Whumpee do this?”

2. “Anything. I’ll be anything you fucking want me to be—just let them go.”

3. “Sorry, friend, I’m not gonna break as easily as they did. Bummer.”

4. “Wait, y-you didn’t…you didn’t tell me you did this to them…no, k-keep that away from me!”

5. “Whumpee, when they hurt me, just look away. Please.”

Caretaker turned Whumper

1. “Who else could have slipped those drugs into your food? Come on now, think a little quicker than that, Whumpee.”

2. “It feels kinda wrong, but…when you’d have nightmares, I…I kinda liked to listen.”

3. “I’m sick of taking care of everyone all the damn time. Well, guess what? Now you have no one.”

4. “Yeah, I’ve got them where you want them. They think they’re safe, but they won’t know what hit them.”

5. “Crazy how I used to patch these scars up…now, I get to make more.”

~~~

Whumper

Classic Whumper Lines

1. “Good morning. Come on, get up. I have so much planned for you today.”

2. “You’re so cute when you try to fight back. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

3. “Aw, you had a nightmare? Was it about me? I hope it was about me.”

4. “Don’t try and be a fucking actor. You and I both know you’re terrified.”

5. “Found you.”

Whumper turned Whumpee

1. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, just…p-please, have mercy…”

2. “That all you’ve got? I used to hit you three times as hard.”

3. “No. I’m not apologizing. No matter how much you torture me. I regret nothing.”

4. “H-Hey, come on, we can be friends, right? You know I didn’t really mean all those things…h-hey, wait, get away from me!”

5. “No…maybe I deserve this. Maybe this is what I’m getting in return for all the things I did to you.”

Whumper turned Caretaker

1. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me! …Oh.”

2. “The nightmare…it was about me, wasn’t it?”

3. “I know you can’t ever forgive me…but let me at least do this one thing for you.”

4. “Okay, okay, yes, I did make that scar, but I’m the only one who knows how to make it better, so would you stop moving?!”

5. “Fuck, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

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sunnynwanda · 5 months

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Hellbent

Warning: descriptions of torture and past trauma, blood, gore, drugging, whipping/ flogging, drowning, suffocation, murder, death. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you. Certain scenes were inspired by "Deadly Class" (TV series), so it really is rough. Let me know if I missed anything.

Triumphant music pierces through the chill air, reaching their frozen ears. The roof is cold and windy, but it's the best position for what they have in mind. Villain perks up, adjusting the binoculars and zooming on the stage. Hero is to award a dickhead with the Best Dickhead of the Month Award, alternatively known as the Philanthropist of the Month. It's an award that is nothing but an ego boost and a way of sucking on the boot of the richer. The man who steps on the stage is no good, and Villain is not the only one who knows that. The whole event is nothing but a farce. Stealing a bunch and then donating barely even half of it for charity was a known method of avoiding legal responsibility while simultaneously getting praised on every corner.

The audience starts clapping and cheering, drawing Villain's attention back to the case at hand. They pick up their gun, aiming it at the dickhead's neck when Hero steps in front of him to shake hands, all the while blocking access. They move seconds later, and Villain uses the moment to shoot truth serum into the man's neck. Needless to say, his speech ended up being not what everyone expected. He gloats about his wealth, mocking everyone in attendance and the higher officials, not quite understanding why the words leave his mouth against his will.

The mayor gets on the stage, attempting to shut the man up and berating Hero for not reacting in due time. Hero does not reply, instead turning around to look precisely in Villain's direction with a stern expression. They don't say anything or move until the speaker is tackled and removed from the stage - thus, the event comes to an abrupt break.

With their position revealed - Villain moves, rushing to pack their stuff and escape the roof before Hero arrives. They are exhilarated by the success of the operation, which leads them to underestimate Hero's speed. They are met at the bottom of the staircase by a hand that stretches out of the corner. They collide with it at full speed, knocking the air out of their lungs.

Hero is seething. Villain knows how to put up a fight, but today seems more difficult than usual. They blame it on the suddenness of the attack and Hero being more unhinged than usual. They've never seen their enemy this aggravated. They are smacked against the ground, and before they can perceive what's happening, Hero is on top of them, gripping their throat as they inject something into Villain's neck. "What the fuck is that?"

Hero's smile is all teeth as they hold Villain down, waiting for the drugs to take effect. "You're becoming predictable."

Villain gapes at them, stunned at the realisation that the whole thing was a set-up. To get them. And they fell for the trap without so much as a thought. Their vision becomes blurry, Hero's face distorting into a flesh-coloured blob. Then, they are consumed by pitch-black shadows.

It's still dark in front of their eyes when Villain's senses return to them. They hear nothing but water dripping to their right and their own laboured breathing. They feel their pulse throbbing in their temples and attempt to look up despite the dull ache spreading from the back of their head down their spine. They soon discover that their arms are tied to the armrests of their chair with their palms up.

Villain blinks, struggling to pry their eyes open. There's no one in the room yet. They take a deep breath to steady their heartbeat and focus. They must be in the Hero headquarters, meaning their interrogators will arrive soon. Their eyes search the room, locating the security camera in the corner and waving at whoever is watching them. They are - by no means - confident, but Hero and their team have no business knowing that.

Several minutes later, the door screeches open, allowing Hero in. Villain throws their head back in an attempt to look unbothered. As if they are exactly where they had meant to be.

"Acting brave, are we?" Hero muses, not wasting any time when they pull out a leather belt, flogging Villain's palm. Villain groans, shutting their eyes for a moment before they fling open. Hero smacks them across the face, then whips their hands again. "Keep your eyes on me."

Villain makes it a point to look away, which earns them another slap against their cheek, this time with the belt. They feel blood fill their mouth, coating their lips upon contact with leather. They spit it to the ground, muttering under their nose when Hero lashes their palms again. Villain fails to keep their voice down this time, cursing out loud. "Motherfucker!"

Hero smiles at that, satisfied with the reaction. "Now we're talking. Tell me who you're working for."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Villain speaks through gritted teeth to keep in the whimpers that threaten to spill from their bloody lips.

"I see," Hero nods, seemingly taking the answer. "We have all the time in the world. You can scream all you want - no one will hear you. My team is guarding the event, and I get to play with you."

Hero continues their torture for what feels like hours. Villain has lost track of time somewhere between getting their thighs whipped into a bloody mess of fabric and open flesh and their mouth being taped closed as Hero carved a neat line across their eyebrow down to their cheek, careful to avoid the eye.

What came after was worse.

Their lungs ache as their head is submerged into a water tank for god knows what time. Their hands flex, sending jolts of pain through their damaged fingers, but they can't move away, tied securely in place as Hero holds the back of their head.

Villain is about to black out when Hero grips their wet hair, twisting their fingers around the strands and tugging their head out of the pink-tinted water. "Are you going to tell me who you're working for now?"

Villain inhales sharply, water dripping out of their nose as they attempt to get in as much oxygen as possible. Their ears are ringing, their heart beating in their throat, but they hear Hero's question clear as day. "I do this alone."

"Bullshit," Hero cuts their answer short. "Who's your boss?"

"No one, I swear," Villain pants through the sentence, conscious to speak for as long as they can, to keep their head out of the water. "Even if you kill me, the answer's not gonna change."

"Oh, I won't kill you," Hero murmurs, slamming Villain's head against the back of the chair and detangling their fingers from their hair. They move the water tank to the side and turn Villain's chair around to face the screen behind them. "I can do much worse than that."

They press a button, and the screen buzzes to life, illuminating the room in warm hues. Villain's breath catches in their throat when their father's smiling face appears on the screen. Their lips barely move when they whisper. "Where did you get this?"

They freeze in anguish, unable to tear their eyes away from the video of their parents in a park, filming each other as they laugh at Villain's silly antics. They watch their eight-year-old self playing with soap bubbles. They shriek and giggle when their father picks them up, placing them on his shoulders, then their mother's laughter floods their ears, filling their eyes with unconscious tears.

"I know you lost them," Hero whispers, placing their heavy hand on their shoulder from behind. Villain catches a glimpse of the belt as it slings over their other shoulder. "It's a tragedy. A senseless tragedy."

Villain hears no compassion in their voice. A tear drips down Villain's cheek, and Hero's calloused finger wipes it away.

"It's life," Villain mutters, shaky as they turn from the screen. They almost lean into Hero's touch but come to their senses, fisting their hands so the pain can remind them where they are. "It's never fair."

"Yes, but the way they went was so brutal," Hero chimes in with diabolical pleasure. They grip Villain's head, forcing them to face the screen again and snarl. "Watch."

Pictures from the crime scene start flashing in front of Villain's eyes. Their father's body is tied to a chair, ropes cutting into his ripped skin from struggling when he was forced to watch his pregnant wife bleed out before they slit his throat open.

"No," Villain lets out a guttural growl, like a wounded animal thrashing in their chains, but Hero's hands are firm around their head. "No!" They shake in their chair, unable to contain the pain and rage fighting for dominance inside them. "You fucking bastard... No!"

"Watch!" Hero orders, pressing their wet lips to the shell of Villain's ear with a sinister smile full of satisfaction when Villain shudders at the contact. The leather belt falls from their shoulder into their lap. "They took them away from you to use you how they want. Your brother would be ten by now. Older than you were back then. They took him away from you. And yet you're covering for them?"

Tears stream freely down Villain's contorted face, dripping from their chin into their lap. The salt stings their open wounds, but they can't feel it. Their lips tremble, yet no sound escapes them when Hero caresses their face, running their thumb over Villain's bloodstained cheekbone in slow circles, too caught up in their act to take notice of the subtle movements of their captive's hands. Villain exhales, pressing their thumb against the wood of their chair and dislocating it so they can slip their blood-soaked hand free. They pull the same with their other hand before putting the joints back into the correct position - the pain serves a welcomed distraction.

"Tell me who they are. Tell me so I can help you avenge your family," Hero coos, still hugging Villain's head so they won't look away from the gory scene that never truly left their mind from the moment they stepped into their living room, having come from school to discover their entire family massacred.

"You want to know who did that?" Villain's voice is hardly above a whisper when they speak. Hero nods, blissfully oblivious to Villain's now free hands twisting their belt around their knuckles until it's tight. "Your father."

Before Hero can even process the words, the belt is wrapped around their neck, suffocating them. Villain drags them down to the ground, wrapping their legs around Hero's torso from behind to hold them down as they tighten their grip on the belt, choking the air out of their lungs.

"He wanted to take me and train me to be one of you. A hero. My parents said no. He though it was rude. That fucking animal!" Villain hisses. Hero wheezes, desperately clutching the belt around their neck. "I stuffed a mini grenade into his mouth and blew the bastard's throat open."

They lower their head to Hero's ear and bring their legs up to restrain their flailing arms. Hero's movements grow slower and weaker with every passing second. "But you knew that. You watched him squeal like a pig trying to pry the tape off his face. Yeah, I did that. He underestimated me."

"So did you." Villain jerks Hero's head to the side, snapping their neck, their body going limp on top of them. With a heavy sigh, they throw their head back, then push Hero's dead body off of them, rolling over and lifting themself to their knees.

Villain scrambles to their feet and glances back at Hero's lifeless body one last time. They have less than ten minutes to escape the facility, and even then, they won't manage to leave the city. But that was never part of the plan. Not until they've finished exacting their revenge. Not until the mayor chokes out a last breath under their fingers. Not until Villain gets to enjoy blood vessels exploding in their eyes. Not until they know Villain's agony. Not until their family may rest in peace.

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode

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montammil · 2 years

Text

whumper dialogue

1. “Come on. Don’t make me do this again.”

2. “Oh, darling, don’t scream. You’ll ruin your pretty voice!”

3. “Go ahead, tell them. No one will believe you. They all think you’re crazy, so it’s your word over mine.”

4. “This is for your own good, Whumpee. I’m just trying to help, after all!”

5. “I’ve waited so long... You have no idea how much I wanted this.”

6. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

7. “Don’t worry. I’m almost done.”

8. “You’re not going anywhere until you learn some damn respect. Get over here. Now.”

9. “This is your last warning. Next time, you’re dead.”

10. “What did you say? No, no, repeat that for me, dear, I didn’t hear you. Tell me what you said.”

11. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you forget. Then we can start over again.”

12. “Oh, Whumpee, I’m not leaving this world alone. You’re coming with me.”

13. “I’m not done yet.”

14. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

15. “Just relax. It’ll be over before you know it. And like I said, you probably won't feel it anyway.”

16. “Oh, don’t cry, pet, you’ll make yourself sick! I don’t have to calm you down myself, do I?”

17. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

18. “Now, sleep. Sleep and forget.”

19. “I told you I’d come back.”

20. “I’ve got a little surprise for you, pet.”

21. “You’ll have to stay down here. It’s for your own good.”

22. “You’re still my favorite.”

23. “I didn’t think you’d be such a challenge. That’s okay, just makes things more fun for me.”

24. “You’ve done such a great job today. Good pet.”

25. “I bet you loved that.”

26. “You think you’re so special.”

27. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

28. “You should have just stayed silent.”

29. “Go ahead, scream. It’s just music to my ears.”

30. “Honestly, you should be grateful you’re still alive, darling. If anyone else said that to me, I’d snap their neck in an instant.”

31. “What are you going to do? Kill me. Go ahead. I’ll even give you my knife! I know you won’t, though.”

32. “Interesting, isn’t it? That you don’t remember anything? Well, let me fix that for you.”

33. “You and me. Forever.”

34. “Please, Whumpee, don’t look at me like that. You’re almost making me feel bad for you. Almost.”

35. “Oh, you poor thing.”

36. “You should have ran when you had the chance.”

37. “Think of how much better life will be for you now. A free roof over your head, free food, free clothes? You should be a little more thankful, honestly.”

38. “You won’t be needing this anymore.”

39. “You remind me of someone...”

40. “Maybe you need to be taught some manners.”

41. “If I weren’t so in love with you, I’d kill you.”

42. “You’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.”

43. “Have a nice sleep, dear.”

44. “Don’t ever try that again.”

45. “I’m not going to waste any more of my time on you.”

46. “I still remember the first time I saw you.”

47. “You’ll never leave my side again.”

48. “I like those little noises you make when you’re scared.”

49. “Oh, you didn’t argue this time! That’s progress.”

50. “You know, even when you look like you’re dead, you’re still beautiful.”

51. “Why did you run? You know how much I love you. You know how much I need you.”

52. “Okay, now you’re just asking for it.”

53. “Now? Now you just sit here and bleed out.”

54. “I know you won’t remember this, but I thought I’d tell you, anyway.”

55. “I can’t hear you, Whumpee~ Mind repeating that for me?”

56. “I’ll give you to the count of three.”

57. “Just think, maybe this will all be over soon!”

58. “You’ve ruined everything.”

59. “You’re making me do this.”

60. “Oh, darling, please be still. This won’t take long.”

61. “The only reason you’re still alive is because of me. Remember that.”

62. “You can’t scream. Not here.”

63. “Do yourself a favor and give up. You can’t escape.”

64. “I told you to shut your mouth.”

65. “You should have seen this coming.”

66. “Be quiet. You don’t want to wake the others, do you?”

67. “The fun has just begun!”

68. “Just because you aren’t beautiful anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t be useful.”

69. “Now, clean yourself up. I’m not doing it for you.”

70. “Look how pretty you are... Red’s really your color.”

71. “Now that you found your anger... it’s time to play.”

72. “You should have thought about that before you started screaming.”

73. “I didn’t break you, did I?”

74. “Either you apologize this instant, or you’ll be seeing nothing but the basement walls for the next week.”

75. “I’m disappointed in you, Whumpee.”

76. “Shh, don’t struggle. It’ll be easier this way.”

77. “You want to sleep? Beg for it, then.”

78. “I never tire looking at you, darling.”

79. “Now, why’d you go and do that? Look at you, now you’re hurt! And not by me this time...”

80. “I suppose I could always just toss you aside like yesterday’s trash.”

81. “Don’t be scared, Whumpee! You’re back with me now, why would you be scared?”

82. “Oh, my dear. Don’t tell me you think you’re the first person I’ve done this to.”

83. “Careful now, don’t tense up. It’ll just hurt more.”

84. “You’re not the first, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

85. “Let’s say you did escape. What would you even tell them?”

86. “I want to kill you slowly, but even that might be too kind for you.”

87. “Next time, I won’t knock you out first.”

88. “No one will ever know.”

89. “I can tell you’re not really asleep. Your breathing is different.”

90. “Don’t be sad, little one. I’m putting you out of your misery just like you wanted! You should be smiling!”

91. “Now you’ve really gone too far.”

92. “Do you see how completely useless you are now?”

93. “Sit up straight.”

94. “You have a visitor, Whumpee!”

95. “You better hope you’re worth it.”

96. “I’m going to take you apart slowly, and then... I’ll put you back together again.”

97. “Let’s see... where to start, where to start...”

98. “My friends will take great care of you.”

99. “I heard that you like pain. I won’t disappoint you.”

100. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, darling...”

#whump #whump dialogue #whump prompts #tw violence #tw murder #murder tw #violence tw #whump tw #tw whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #creepy/intimate whumper #whumpblr #tw intimate whumper #tw threatening #whump writing #whumper dialogue #whumper x whumpee

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painsandconfusion · 10 months

Text

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Prompts and starters A collaboration with @wormwriting

[Prompt Masterpost]

“How much did you hear?”

Whumpee crouched and trying to stay quiet until they can slip away. Then the cool barrel of a gun pressing against the back of their head. Bonus for ~click~

“You know what happens now, right?”

Whumpee stumbling home, breath ragged and body in shock still. They stare at the liquor bottle - and without thinking, uncap it and start downing as much fire as they can stand. They don’t want to remember what they just saw. For everyone’s sake.

Whumper shoving a bottle against Whumpee’s chest. “You’re going to want to forget that. I’ll check back in tomorrow to make sure you did.”

Walked into the wrong bar at the wrong time - now they’re a vampire’s lunch.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who fucked up everything. Now I need to clean up your mess.”

The shaky hand Whumpee presses to their mouth to try to stifle their echoing breaths. Eyes squeezed shut so hard that they might press the memory of what they saw out of their mind.

“How’s about you and me go for a little walk, hm?”

“Sorry kid - boss said no loose ends.”

Whumpee stepping around the corner to see people and blood and heads slowly turning toward them. Seeing them seeing what just happened. Seeing the blood. Seeing them seeing the blood. Whumpee slooooooowwwwwly steps back, eyes stricken with horror-

“Can’t talk without a tongue, right?”

Whumpee driving in the middle of nowhere - how were they supposed to know it would be fifty miles to the nearest gas station? At least they can cal-......they don’t have signal either…

Whumpee flinching at each echoing footstep, tucking further back into their hiding spot. “I know you’re theeeeerrreeeee~ Come out come ouuuut~”

“You know this isn’t personal, right?”

And escaped whumpee bumping into Whumper completely randomly years later. The s t a r e. Aaaaaaand run-

“What are you so scared for? I don’t gotta kill you~”

“Wh-y me?” “You were the easiest to grab.”

Stepping into a bear trap.

Whumpee getting mistaken for a target. Tortured in their place while pleading all the while that they got the wrong mark. Of course, no one believes them.

“Know what you are? A liability.”

The random guy the villain shoots in a bar just to make a point.

“Don’t. Move.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

(a few of these arent working so if wibbly-wobbly-whump or hold-back-on-the-comfort changed their blogs please lmk <3

#whump #promp list #whump prompt list #collaboration #kidnapping #gun #knife #forced drinking #alcohol consumption #wrong place wrong time #incidental whumpee #murder mention #blood #mouth gore threat #threat #fear #angst #multiple whumpers #wrong whumpee

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whumperofworlds · 6 months

Text

A Whumper uses a spell to force Whumpee to face their darkest side. Maybe in the past Whumpee did something terrible (ie murdered someone) and they have to face their darkest side.

BONUS: Caretaker sees Whumpee panicking and helps them, but Whumpee refused to tell them what happened. Because what if Caretaker doesn't forgive them for their crime?

(Blame/thank @thequestingbunny for this idea hahahaha)

#whump #whump prompt #magic whump #murder mention #whumper #whumpee #caretaker #fantasy whump

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whumblr · 10 months

Text

Payback

"What on earth are you all doing?!"

The team startled and froze in their tracks when Caretaker's voice boomed through the room. They glanced up to the landing, barely daring to meet Caretaker's eye when they noticed his thunderous expression matched the tone of his outburst. But they didn't pull away from the struggling figure under them, keeping him to his knees and keeping a gun trained against the back of his head.

"Whumpee still hasn't woken up," one of the members snarled, forcing Whumper's head down with the gun. "You saw what this scum did to them! It's time for some payback."

Caretaker bristled, his hands still on the railing, knuckles white. Then he took a deep breath and let go, slowly making his way down the stairs, boots clanking heavily against the metal grate.

"Give me that!" he snarled, and snatched the gun away. He stood over Whumper, who had startled as well and his struggles had melted away. He looked up at Caretaker; didn't say a word, but his eyes betrayed a call for mercy.

"I agree," Caretaker hissed and cocked the gun. Whumper closed his eyes as the click echoed through the silent room. "A certain payback is order."

He aimed and without hesitation fired two rounds, one in both Whumper's shoulders.

Screams rose up and Whumper fell back, writhing on the floor.

"Take him to medbay, patch him up, lock him up," Caretaker said without looking down and he pressed the gun back into his friend's hands. "Listen up! No one, and I mean no one, kills this bastard."

He glanced down and Whumper shuddered at the cold glare.

"Because I am not done with him yet. And maybe, when Whumpee wakes, we'll see if he's lucky enough to end it with a single bullet through the head."

Tagging: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @whumpifi

#whump #whump drabble #revenge whump #whumper turned whumpee #caretaker #caretaker turned whumper #attempted murder #torture #implied torture #gunshot wound #captivity #my writing

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feverdreamsanddelusions · 6 months

Text

prompt ask game — kidnapping

[tw kidnapping, needles, noncon drugging, betrayal, captivity, threat of murder, knives, guns, hidden in plain sight, intimate whumper, conditioned whumpee, stockholm syndrome]

25 scenarios and 25 dialogue prompts :)

scenarios

chloroformed rag to the face

attacked from behind

attacked by someone whumpee knew and trusted

attacked while fumbling with the keys to their front door

shoved into the back of a van

tranquilised via a little dart

drugged with a syringe to the neck

held at knifepoint

held at gunpoint

threatened into complying

knocked unconscious with bare hands

whumper was in the backseat of their car

whumpee has to pretend everything is okay and they're not currently being kidnapped

waking up in the trunk of a car

waking up in the backseat, tied up and possibly gagged

waking up in a dingy basement

sensory deprivation (noise cancelling earphones, blindfold, gag etc) so whumpee has no idea what's happening

held for ransom

held for information/interrogation

there are multiple whumpers making sure whumpee is not going anywhere

whumpee knows there must be people looking for them

whumpee knows nobody is looking

stockholm syndrome

lima syndrome

whumpee is told exactly how many days their captors are willing to keep them. the literal deadline is approaching

dialogue

"shh, not a sound."

"hush now– you don't want to get other people in trouble, do you?"

"relax, the drugs will kick in soon."

"so feisty... should i tighten the restraints even more?"

"i already know everything i need to know about you, whumpee. do i need to visit your dear friends/family first for you to come with me?"

"this can be very easy or very difficult for you. choose wisely."

"my contract says preferably alive. keep that in mind."

"stop squirming, unless you want me to hurt you more than i intended."

"you're outnumbered."

"get in the car."

"nobody has to get hurt if you comply."

"so... do you think caretaker will pay?"

"wakey wakey, time to talk."

"don't beat yourself up. i promise this would've happened no matter how cautious you tried to be."

"oh, don't be silly. nobody is coming to save you."

"the cops? honey, we have two officers on our team. the cops won't do shit."

"let go of me! let me go!"

"i don't have anything to tell you, you have the wrong person!"

"please, i won't tell anyone– i won't call the police–"

"is this– is this for ransom?"

"they'll be looking for me! you're fucking done for!"

"please, at least... loosen the restraints a little? it hurts so much."

"c-can i go home if they pay?"

"we don't have that kind of money! please, this is impossible!"

"what... what do you mean for fun?"

#whump #whump prompt #whump prompt list #whump scenario #kidnapping #needles #noncon drugging #betrayal #captivity #threat of murder #knives #guns #hidden in plain sight #intimate whumper #conditioned whumpee #stockholm syndrome #ask game

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whumpy-wyrms · 5 months

Text

WOAHHHH NEW OC STORY IDEA ALL A SUDDEN

okay so vampire guy works at a morgue and feeds from the dead bodies but it’s never Enough. it keeps him under control but he does needs fresh blood once in a while. anyway this human guy dies, was brought to the morgue, and the vampire guy drains him of all his blood (as he does to every corpse) but this human died recently and his blood was fresher and tastier than the others. vampire leaves the dead human in one of those corpse shelves for the night (vampire guy lives in the morgue somewhere) and the next morning BOOM. the human guy is awake and alive and healthy as if nothing happened. immortality moment!! woah

and the vampire guy is like SWEET!!! new infinite food source of fresh delicious human blood!! now he doesn’t have to feed from those gross corpses anymore or go hunting and risk being killed by pesky vampire hunters.

but vampire guy still has to work at the morgue. that’s his whole business. that’s his home and how he needs to make money to buy food for his new human bloodbag (guy can survive without food but his blood tastes better when he’s not starving).

and it’s strange for the vampire guy sometimes. he’s always spending time around dead humans and this is the first time he’s gotten close to an actual live human before. and even though he’s keeping him captive, he still likes making conversation sometimes. it gets lonely being an immortal vampire who’s hasn’t had a close relationship in decades, and who’s instinct it is to suck the blood out of every human he meets. and since immortal human guy is trapped there and has nothing to do, he might as well talk to him. he’s lonely too and now just found out he’s immortal. he doesn’t wanna be alone forever

but obviously he hates being fed from by a vampire and desperately wants to escape. vampire guy kills him a bunch of times just because he Can. sometimes he drains him of all his blood when he’s extra hungry, sometimes he just kills him for disobeying or trying to escape to teach him a lesson. sometimes he kills him for fun, for the thrill of the hunt. dying is PAINFUL as fuck to the human. he hates dying even though he always comes back fully healed.

sometimes the human wants more things to keep him occupied so he’s not bored all day trapped in the basement of a morgue (or maybe he’s kept locked in a corpse shelf during the day, extremely claustrophobic and dark, with no way out, trapped next to a bunch of human corpses. who knows). but the vampire doesn’t wanna waste his hard-earned cash on buying his human silly unnecessary things just because he’s bored.

so sometimes he lets the human help him work. vampire guy owns the morgue and has no other employees, and only works at night to avoid sunlight, so human wouldn’t be able to call for help anyway. human guy hates being around dead bodies but it gives him something to do and he technically gets paid for it in a way. now vampire guy gets things done twice as fast and has more money and free time too. he buys his human the stuff he wants, like books or puzzles, and they sometimes play games together.

human was a nobody. he probably died from some freak accident and was brought to the morgue by the hospital. he didn’t have a family or any loved ones that claimed his body or set up his funeral. nobody came looking for his body to bury or cremate because Nobody cared that he was gone. and that just makes things a whole lot sadder because even if he does somehow escape the vampire, where’s he gonna go? he’s legally dead. Everyone thinks he’s dead. he’s supposed to be dead. there wouldn’t be anywhere to go or anyone to go to because he obviously can’t tell people he’s immortal, that would just cause more questions, and surely being experimented on by scientists would be worse than whatever he’s going through right now, right?

so human guy has to accept his life now, as an immortal bloodbag for a vampire who works at a morgue. his life is filled with blood and death, but there’s nothing he can do about it. maybe vampire guy eventually gains sympathy for him, and starts to feel bad for his pathetic excuse of a life. maybe they eventually become friends. or maybe the human stabs a wooden stake through the vampire’s heart. who knows

anyway these guys have existed in my head for nearly an hour and they don’t even have names but i am going insane over this holy shit???? RAUHHHH i’ve gotta make picrews dude i gotta draw them. new blorbos. new brainrot. i prommy i’ll still get tllr chapter 13 out today or tomorrow but WOAHH look at these new little guys they’re so silly

#AHHHHH i love vampires and immortals and morgues #3 in 1? YES #if anyone has name recommendations feel free to tell me #i’m most definitely gonna write something about these guys #probably not a long lore driven series like tllr but Something #maybe i will also make an au where the human is taken by Anton and experimented on because Anton wants to learn more about his immortality #there’s just so many possibilities with this concept and i love it i love these silly guyssss #brand new blorbos were born today. happy birthday #wyrms says stuff #no idea what this series will be called either so idk what to tag this as yet #i need name ideas!! ahhhhh #vampires #death #murder #death mention #vampire whumper #immortal whumpee #silas oc #aspen oc

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whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

Nonhuman whumpee that presents, was raised as a human, and fully believes themselves to be one, finding out that they aren’t human in whumper’s care.

Whumper knows already and inflicts enough pain for the nonhuman features to pop out. In this case a demigod with an extra set of glowy arms and markings? Whumper makes sure to massage any new part of whumpee due to the humiliating sensitivity they have, and Whumpee gets depersonalization from the whole ordeal.

tw nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, depersonalisation, past murder (of parents), captivity, intimate whumper

Whumpee stared at the thing in the mirror, taking in the furrowed brows and the glowing golden eyes full of confusion; it was strangely similar to how they felt. The creature in the mirror was very good at imitating them.

They shuddered when Whumper gently took one of the thing’s extra arms, they shuddered like it was theirs, because they were also very good at imitating the creature. They couldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop feeling it, their awfully non-human body betraying their every memory and concept of self.

What were they?

That was them, wasn’t it? The thing in the mirror? But what was that?

“Slowly coming to terms with it?” Whumper asked lovingly, as though they hadn’t just shattered Whumpee’s entire world. They dragged their fingers down the length of their arm, tracing the markings, and Whumpee’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment against their will. “My sweet angel. My divine little pet. Aren’t you glad I showed you your true self?”

“What am I?” they whispered, still fixated on the mirror. So long as it was just in the mirror, it wasn’t as real as looking down and seeing it in person.

“The child of a long gone god; one that saw it fit to mingle with humans.”

Whumpee let out a whimper as their captor dug their finger into the stiff tissue, thoroughly massaging out the tension. “My parents aren’t gods,” they said softly. “I… I can’t go back to them like this.”

“You can’t.”

“Please… d-do something. Reverse it.”

Whumper smiled. “This is who you are, sweetheart. And that,” they pointed at their own reflection, “is who you belong to.”

Whumpee wanted to argue. They wanted to say well, if they were the child of a god, then surely, they too were an all-powerful being. Powerful enough to reverse this, and powerful enough to fight off a cocky mortal feeding them lies. But as soon as they opened their mouth, they saw it.

It was but a flash. A flash of a halo. A flash of too many eyes to count. A creature too terrifying to behold.

They swallowed, tearing their gaze away from the mirror and turning to face Whumper, relieved to find them in the form they had gotten used to. “What are you?” they asked, and their voice came out shakier than they intended.

“Many cultures, many names… Who keeps track?” They continued working life into Whumpee’s numb limbs like nothing had happened, still smiling.

“You’re a god,” they breathed. “Are you–”

“I am the one who killed them.” They glanced up, eerie smile widening just a fraction. “So I could have you all to myself.”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #captivity #intimate whumper #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman whumper #depersonalisation #past murder

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 months

Text

Falling Water Cease to Roar

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: 'It' used as a pronoun, references to past murder/abuse, captivity, referenced mind control/magic

The grandfather clock that stood along the wall by the fireplace in the study ticked, lazily but inevitably marking the passage of time while Ford stared down into the glass of amber bourbon he’d poured himself to stop his hands from shaking.

In an hour, he would hopefully be drunk enough to make dining with his father, his sister, the absolutely gorgeous woman upstairs his father intended to force him to marry, and his father’s beautiful monster something he could bear. For now, though, he was sober enough that the horror weighed too heavy. He was slumped in the overstuffed leather chair, close enough that the warmth of the fire touched him, but it could not fully penetrate his skin.

The worst thing, of course, was that the monster was in here, too.

It sat in a different chair, over by the window, staring at the sunset with a look of fixed intensity, barely blinking. It had every appearance of being an unnaturally beautiful man a decade or so older than Ford was, but of course it was at least close to two centuries old, and really… who knew how long it had lived before Guilford Wentworth had come across it?

It wore the loose shirt and pants it had been given as if they were chains, shifting uncomfortably every few seconds. Its bare feet pressed into the softness of a plush rug beneath its chair. Ford stared as it… wiggled its toes, like anyone might at the simple comfort. Like any human, any… person.

The creature had been there his entire life, just one more tool in his father’s toolbox. The biggest and most useful one. He had watched with growing dread as he aged while the thing sang affection into his father’s friends, obedience into his enemies, and… love into Ford’s own mother, over and over, every time her mind threatened to stray away from it.

Just as it would sing love into the mind of the woman upstairs, love into him, and even after that it wouldn’t be enough to please his father’s demands. No… time was running out for Ford’s own mind to remain his own.

Once the wedding was done, and the monster had done what it was commanded to do, Ford would be nothing more than what his own true father had been. He’d be a puppet, going through the motions with a stupid smile on his face, until he was no longer needed and was tossed into the toybox to rot.

How would he be made to do it? He looked over at the monster again. It looked so… calm and peaceful, resting its chin on one hand, the light from the setting sun warming its brown skin and making its eyes seem oddly ablaze. It never looked all that dangerous, but… although Ford had been young, and the twins only just born, he remembered very clearly watching the monster sing a pretty song and then his true father walk into the pond in the garden to meet it. He remembered how its jaw had opened far too wide, how it had had too many teeth when it fell on him. There had been so much blood in the water.

They hadn’t known he was watching.

Ford wondered sometimes if he’d have been sent into the pond as well, if they had seen him peeking over the windowsill in his mother’s room.

Would Guilford Wentworth allow his so-called firstborn son to make requests on the manner of his murder, once his life became inconvenient to the grander plan? Maybe. Maybe he could ask, once he’d had a child of his own-

His stomach flipped, nerves and nausea battling within him when he thought of the look of fiery defiance in the eyes of the woman upstairs. She did not want this. He did not want this. But of course, that mattered very little when Lord Guilford Wentworth, second only to the king and with a terrible magic at his command, wanted it.

Not when he had a monster to remake the world to his liking, and all Ford had was his pitiful anger and no skill, influence, or fortune he could use to effect an escape. Had his true father been this frightened, before his wedding? Had his mother loathed Guilford Wentworth like the woman upstairs so clearly did, before the monster wiped her clean of everything but softness and light? Had his true father regained his mind at the end, when the monster’s teeth tore out his throat and he had only seconds to live?

And if he had, was it a mercy to die his own man, or simply a darker murder?

His fingers tightened around the cool glass until he worried it might crack under his grip. Thinking of his true father and the days after when he had screamed himself hoarse that it had been murder while everyone around him mourned the unfortunate drowning accident… it ached, and he had to shove the memory away as far as he could. He’d been shoving that memory aside most of his life, and he was an expert by now at how to bury it. He took a breath and then sipped the bourbon, letting the liquid burn down his throat and warm his shoulders, his chest.

He took another drink, a deeper one, and this time he coughed when the liquid felt like it tried to go into his lungs and not his stomach, his chest suddenly felt like it was on fire within, burning behind his breastbone. He had to lean forward and pound his chest with a fist, coughing breathlessly and then jerking in air in graceless gasps.

The monster did not move - but its head turned, just a little, to look over at him. It should be a crime, to be a creature of such evil and have such beautiful eyes. “... are you dying?” It asked, voice low and devoid of any real curiosity.

“N-No,” Ford spat, finally feeling air enter his lungs more easily as he gulped oxygen down. It felt like spots danced at the corners of his eyes, fading as everything settled. His heart, though, still raced. When had he last heard the monster speak aloud? “I’m fine. Just went down the wrong way, is all.”

“Mmn.” The monster turned away from him. “Good. I would be blamed if you died here.”

“Why do you care if you are?” Ford’s eyes narrowed. He set the glass down on a small table next to his chair with a hard enough crack of glass on wood that he winced, hoping the pricey liquor wouldn’t leak onto the wood, make a stain, and get him in trouble.

No. He was a grown man, and he would not fear his father’s beatings, not now. He would not let that creeping terror of Guilford’s rages keep him from standing, stalking across the room to the monster, and standing before him.

He leaned over, pitching his voice so low it wouldn’t even carry to any servant who might be lingering on the other side of the door, eavesdropping for anything they might take to Guilford to get Ford in trouble again. “We both know damn well, monster, that you’ll be the one to kill me eventually, anyway. So why do you care if it happens now?”

It did not stand, but its eyes flicked upwards to meet his where he loomed over it. From this angle, he could see the tattoos, the swirling loops and and arcane symbols that moved from just under its jaw down one side of its neck, disappearing into the neckline of its shirt, reappearing in glimpses along its wrist and hand where they came out from its long sleeve. He could see, too, scars around the unmarked side of its neck. They were so faint he’d never been close enough to notice them before. The scars circled, layered over each other.

The monster held his gaze. “He will be displeased with me if his plans have to be changed. I will bear his anger again.”

“You…” Ford trailed off. The monster raised its eyebrows. Despite its posture reading as nothing more than lazy insolence, he could sense tension. When his eyes followed the line of its arm, he found its fingers were trembling, minutely, where they lay seemingly relaxed against the arm of the chair it sat on. There were scars faintly visible around its wrists, too. Its throat shifted as it swallowed, holding perfectly still.

Ford had spent his life learning how to appear like a happy first son of one of the wealthiest families in the world, while secretly fearing his father’s every hint of disapproval for the violence it would bring on. He knew what it looked like to be frightened and yet determined not to show it.

He knew he saw the same fear in it now that he knew so well. Carelessness was an armor, a magical cloak of invisibility for true feelings, but it was one that you could see easily if you’d worn it yourself.

Its eyes narrowed and its top lip shifted, revealing sharp fangs for teeth, a hint of a defensive snarl.

“Stop it,” Ford commanded, but some of his anger had gone.

“I do not serve you,” It said, its own voice holding both its human tongue and a lower, animal growl that rumbled underneath. “I will not kneel or lay down for you. Touch me and I will tear off your hand.”

Ford took a step back, and then another, almost stumbling until he bumped into another chair and didn’t so much sit as fall backwards into it. “You won’t what-”

Its bared its teeth fully, then, briefly showing him the full force of its razor-sharp fangs before it turned deliberately away, to look back at the sunset. Dismissing him the same way his father used to, without even speaking a word.

Ford stared at its impassive face, back to seeming utterly human now that it was no longer showing its surreal, hideous teeth. “... I saw you kill my father, you know.”

Those eyes moved briefly to him, then back to the window. “I kill all the fathers. A few of you have seen me. Your children may see me kill you. Every time is different. Every time is the same.”

Ford swiped his hand over his mouth and let his head drop until it hit the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling, letting the simple mundane horror of the words flow over him like water. Dipping his head beneath the surface of such easily-spoken and awful truths. His heart pounded, thumping against the inside of his chest as though trying to batter its way out. “Have you ever not killed anyone?”

“Yes.” Ford looked back at the monster in surprise, but it only watched him now, evenly, with no expression on its face or in its voice. “I told a child to run, once, and she lived. The rest… even if I do not rip them apart myself…”

“They die because of you. We die because of you.” It nodded, face utterly blank. “Don’t you…” Ford gestured aimlessly, not even sure what the movement of his hands was meant to represent. “Feel the slightest bit bad about it? Regret? Remorse?”

“You are human. You are his blood, you are like him-”

“I am not like him!” The denial roared out of him - the shouting was so loud and seemed to come unbidden, and it took him until the end of the sentence to realize it was he himself who was shouting. He was on his feet in an instant, closed the short distance between them, and he had slapped the monster full across the face before he understood he had moved at all. “I am not!”

His palm stung, hot and buzzing, and he stared at the monster who looked at him with that snarl yet again, one side of its face flushing bright red already, eyes glimmering with the reflection of the dying day. “Are you not?”

Its voice was low, and its aim true.

Ford hitched in a breath, horror washing cold through him, sweeping away the anger that had driven him forward. He had never hit another-

No. It wasn’t a person.

But still…

If he resorted to his father’s violence so readily, turned on another what had once been turned on him, was he even a person?

Perhaps they were both monsters.

“I-... I’m sorry,” He said, his voice slightly strangled, looking away. Something very like a scream was trying to claw its way up his throat and he had to fight with everything he had to keep his voice level and even. “I apologize. That was… I should not have-... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He all but fled back to his glass, drinking the rest of it in a few quick swallows, breathing harshly as the warmth spread but could not fight the cold loathing of himself that one small slap had brought to the surface. He set it back down with a shaking hand, putting the other up against his forehead, closing his eyes tightly against the hot rush of tears that he would not allow to fall.

Once he felt more in control of himself, he took the deepest breath he could, expanding his lungs until he felt they might burst, and then slowly exhaled again.

When he found the courage - just barely - to chance another look at his father’s creature, the monster was watching him with the first genuine, open expression he’d seen it make.

It was surprised.

There was a pause while it stared at him, and he stared back. Then, it said, in the same low voice always, “Help her.”

“What?”

“Kiraya Losna. Help her, and save us.”

“Save… you?”

It hesitated, and just as it opened its mouth to speak again, the door swung open. Ford turned on his heel to try and look unsurprised, but it was only his father’s butler.

“Miss Kiraya Losna and Miss Nathalie will be escorted momentarily to the dining room,” Babbage said, cheerful as always. If he was even able to sense the tension in the room, he seemed to ignore it. Although perhaps he couldn’t see anything but whatever Ford’s father wanted him to see. “Your father is already seated, Master Ford. You will join him now, you and your friend.”

Ford’s eyes shifted to the monster and then back. “My-... Ah. Of course, Babbage, thank you.”

Babbage bowed his head, briefly, and then walked away on silent feet. He always moved like that - he’d caught Ford at childish nonsense many times in his childhood, because he was impossible to hear unless he wanted to be heard.

Although Ford could have sworn he’d once or twice heard Babbage shouting in the night, incomprehensible, silenced before Ford had ever been able to quite understand what was wrong. And each time, he was right as rain the next morning, with a smile and a welcoming pat on the shoulder.

Ford took steps that felt like walking to a gallows, the monster falling in just behind him, as if they were old friends. He could feel its presence at his back, goosebumps rising on his arms, but there was no threat, no danger. Only his own nerves pouring acid through his veins.

“Help her,” The monster whispered once more. “If you are not your father, then be a man better than him. Free me and I will harm no more of you. Go to her room and bring her down to speak to me. Free me. Please. Please.”

“I do not trust you, monster,” He murmured, barely moving his lips. “Why should I believe your words at all?”

“Better to hope for my honesty than to fear your father’s anger.”

Ford’s teeth ground together. What could he possibly say to that? His father would be furious beyond all reason if he let his prisoner loose to roam the halls of the house or run away entirely. His rage would be all-encompassing. He might decide to marry Nathalie or-... god forbid, one of the twins off instead. Damning them to the fate he now faced seemed a worse sin than any other.

But…

The monster did not seem to want to be here. If it wanted only to escape, his father’s control would be shattered, and Ford could be free.

If it was only trying to lead him to the slaughter, well… That would be terrible. But if it was looking to escape and he did nothing, then… his father’s monster would doom him to lose his mind and then his life. It wouldn’t even care about the loss. Indeed, it would make sure no one cared about the loss in the end, the way his mother had mourned his true father only for a night before she seemed to simply forget he had ever existed as anything but a faint, lovely daydream by noon the next day.

His life, all his wants and dreams and wishes for his future would dissipate like smoke, unmourned, unmissed, because of this thing that sat in a chair like a man and sang magic like a demon.

But it was the same thing that was begging him for help.

Help her.

Ford squared his shoulders, straightened his spine, and stepped into the dining room like a man preparing for a fight.

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee @angelsproject

#fantasy whump #original writing #fantasy writing #whump #captivity #it as a pronoun #light dehumanization #referenced child abuse #traumatized whumpee #mentioned murder #mentioned mind control #magic whump #original fantasy #fiction #original fiction #fantasy world #siren whump

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i-eat-worlds · 4 days

Text

Starcross Chapter 3

Let’s meet our mystery human!

Content: living weapon whump, discussion of suicide and suicide ideation, nsx biting, panic attack, conditioned whumpee, fear of punishment, fear of murder

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 4/5/4763

The weapon was laying down.

This, in itself, was not a rare occurrence. But something was different.

Everything was louder, both the hum of the levitators and the rumble of the engine. The room was much warmer, and it smelled less…industrial. There was something stuck to its back, covering the implants, and something else wrapped around its ankle. It was weird. It didn’t feel like a Yeran facility.

An oppressive feeling settled over it as it remembered what was going to happen. The weapon had failed. It was dysfunctional. Broken. Useless.

The weapon was going to be decommissioned. It was going to die.

No.

Weapons couldn’t die.

It was going to be decommissioned.

The thought made it feel nauseous and dizzy. Its heart was pounding in its ears and it wanted to cry. Weapons didn’t cry. It knew that. It knew that. It knew that.

A sob fell out of its mouth, and it immediately flinched back. The weapon knew its place, and it knew the rules.

Did they even matter anymore? If it was going to…

The rules were the only thing that mattered. The only thing. The weapon felt a presence beside it. Fear filled it, even though weapons weren’t allowed to be scared.

It didn’t want this.

It didn’t want to die.

The presence said something that it couldn’t understand, and anger flared in it. They were going to kill it and it didn’t want that. No matter how much it was supposed to.

It didn’t want to die.

The presence reached out towards it, and it realized that they’d made a fatal mistake. The weapon was only being held down with a single strap. And this time, there was nothing else keeping it in place. It had nothing to live for, no future.

Rage surged through it, energizing its limbs, and it surged forwards. The levitators pulsed as it lashed out, grabbing their arm and yanking it towards them. It tore the strap away, throwing itself at whoever had been standing next to them.

They were screaming, trying to fight back, but the weapon was faster and stronger and easily overwhelmed them. Its vision was red as it sunk its teeth into their upper arm, blood filling its mouth. Rage pounded through it, hot as lava, and it was intoxicating.

Suddenly, the world snapped into focus. Dread built at it fully dawned on it what it’d done. It’d hurt a superior. Such behavior was unthinkable!

It immediately scampered backwards, pulling its tired body off the person it’d tackled. They had light blue skin, and were covered in triangle shaped tattoos from head to toe. The weapon had never seen anyone like that working for Yera before.

The person moved their hand over the bite wound on their arm, pressing down to try and stop the blood pouring from the wound. Their face was twisted in pain, and the weapon shrunk back further.

What had it done?

They mumbled something that it didn’t understand but which was likely a string of curses, and it quickly swallowed the bile that rose in its throat.

It was so, so fucked.

The person slowly stood up, keeping their eyes fixed on it. Their assessing gaze moved over it, eyes narrowing. It curled in on itself further, panic still coursing through its veins.

Suddenly, a jolt shot through it. Oh. Oh-no. How could the weapon had forgotten? It was being a cowardly bitch again. They didn’t like that. They didn’t like that. Tearfully, it maneuvered its tired body into a kneeling position and held its wrists out, ankle protesting as they shifted their weight onto it.

Hopefully they would at least kill it quickly, but that ship had likely already flown off.

How could it’ve been so stupid?

They sighed, scrubbing their face. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Their Yeran was accented in a way the weapon had never heard before.

It flinched back, not even processing the statement, then offered its wrists to them, stretching its arms out. “Unit KM-4682 is sorry, sir. It knows its actions are inexcusable. It will accept any punishment you deem fit.” It hated the way its voice shook.

The person’s face softened, strangely, and the weapon wondered if it was a joke. Blood was still dripping down their arm, and it was an odd image. “I’m not going to punish you. I’m-” They pushed their hair back. “I’m not Yera. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.”

For a second the weapon was completely silent. This had to be a lie, or a test, or a fucking hallucination. Weapons weren’t “safe.” It had just bit them! “Unit KM-4682 is sorry, sir. It knows its actions are inexcusable. It will accept any punishment you deem fit,” it tried again.

They shook their head. “That isn’t going to happen, I promise.” It looked at them unbelievingly. “I’m Ziar, she/her.” No rank. Weird. “I’m the…medical staff…on the ship. We’re not with Yera. We found you in stasis on a D&A’ed vessel and picked you up. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It nodded, mulling the story over in its mind.

The weapon had been…stolen? From Yera? That seemed unlikely. They were the greatest force the world had ever seen. Massive and unbreakable, almost awless. The weapon couldn’t have just been stolen, could it? Maybe this was another test, to evaluate the efficacy of its conditioning.

But it did feel different. They would’ve punished it immediately and severely for disobeying like that. The simulation would’ve ended and it would’ve been beaten and whipped within an inch of its life.

It froze, unsure what to do. What did…Ziar?…want from it? What did Yera want from it? Did it matter if they wanted it dead? Should it….should it….?

It didn’t want to die….but should it….do it anyway?

“How about we get you back up on the bed?” Her voice pulled it from its spiraling, cascading thoughts.

That was an order. Concrete. Solid. Easy to follow. The weapon stood up on unsteady legs, exhaustion lling its bones, and began to walk back over towards the bed. When its foot caught on the floor and it stumbled, she caught it, gently supporting it and helping it up.

It lets its wrists rest in its lap, posture sagging. The fabric of a gown crunched as it wilted, and the weapon realized they’d been dressed. Maybe this wasn’t Yera. Maybe it was…safe.

A feeling blossomed in its chest, like a bird taking flight, and the weapon tore it out of the sky and stomped on it. Such things were not for weapons. Not for things like it. It whimpered pathetically, tears starting to leak from its eyes.

“You can lay down, it’s alright.” Her voice was quiet and soft.

The weapon complied, slowly lowering itself down onto the bed. “Thank you, ma’am,” it mumbled.

She held up the restraint. “This is just to keep you from falling off the bed if there's turbulence. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It stayed perfectly still as she drew the strap over its hips, holding it snugly in place. The underside was padded, and it was more comfortable over its bruises. It could still feel the stasis drugs coursing in its system, no doubt at least partially responsible for the exhaustion that permeated it.

The weapon’s heart was still thundering in its chest as Ziar reattached to the monitors. She fiddled with some of the settings, and it heard the levitators start to hum. Just when the weapon thought she was done, she reached down to the end up the bed and pulled a blanket up over its legs.

It couldn’t help but jolt at the soft touch on its legs. The weapon hadn’t been permitted blankets in….well, it couldn’t remember how long.

“Just rest up, alright?” She smiled at it. The weapon kept its face still. It wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the room took on a dim red glow. Night cycle running lights. “I’ll be back in about an hour to check up on you. Try and get some sleep. You’re safe now.”

Ziar smiled again, then turned away, moving out of its line of sigh. It tried to ignore the sound of her rummaging through a drawer on the other side of the room.

The weapon had hurt her. And she was being so merciful to it, at least for now. As it closed its eyes and pretended to sleep, it wondered how long that would last.

Mercy and safety weren’t for things like it. Whatever strangeness this was, it would likely be gone by the morning, replaced by punishment and pain.

And the weapon would accept it. That was what it was made for.

Taglist: @whump-snob @whump-kia @itsoundslikeafury @blackberry-bloody @snakebites-and-ink

@whumpacabra @cepheusgalaxy @softvampirewhump @my-little-versaille @pigeonwhumps

@whumped-by-glitter @snaillamp @rainydaywhump @platysaurus @whumpy-daydreams

@whiskygoldwings @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @rainbowsandwhumperflies

#worlds babbles #whump #living weapon #cw sui thoughts #cw sui ideation #nsx biting #panic attack tw #conditioned whumpee #fear of punishment #fear of murder #whump writing #this is a fun one #meet KM!

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sunnynwanda · 25 days

Note

Hi, sorry to bother!

I’ve had this idea lately but I wondered if you would like to write it, feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t convince you btw

Pet hero whumpee but not the docile type of pet, more like superhero/supervillain has conditioned/deshumanized them to be like some sort of rabid, aggresive pet that attacks anyone who isn’t their “owner”

Maybe they’ve been missing for some time already and when villain (or any other character you want to) finds them, they worry about the fact that hero is attacking them and doesn’t seem to recognize them at all

I hope you’re having a nice day✨✨✨

Master

Warning: dehumanisation, conditioning, pet whump and everything that comes with it, mentions of physical and psychological abuse, grafic injuries, suffocation, blood, gore, murder. I have no idea how I wrote this. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you.

The door opens with a taunting creak, the sound reverberates off the empty walls. Villain takes a tentative step in, glancing around for any traps. The apartment looks perfect in its apparent abandonment - not a thing out of place, no sign of a fight or kidnapping. Hero had been gone for a little over three months. Just like that, no traces left behind, no warnings - nothing. It's like they vanished into thin air. Evaporated. Villain didn't know why or where they went. They had no idea who to contact or what to do about Hero's sudden disappearance. The only thing Villain did know was they missed their nemesis.

Oh, they missed Hero like crazy.

They still recalled the brawl they had the day before. Villain was attempting to cause a riot in the city stadium for the fun of it; Hero had been their ordinary cheeky self as well. Nothing new to the usual scheme of things. They took turns delivering the blows and tumbled around a bit; Villain ended up restrained against a wall and accepted temporary defeat despite being capable of obliterating the entire stadium - Hero included - with a flick of their wrist. Both were accustomed to the game plan and felt no need to deviate. The next day, Villain seized a bank and demanded Hero's presence - per standard procedure.

Except, Hero never came.

They robbed the bank despite not needing the money and departed in a sour mood because nothing was supposed to be of more importance than their battles. Villain expected Hero to return the next day and intended to make them apologise relentlessly for such disrespect.

Needless to say, that wish never came true.

After a week of waiting in vain, Villain started suspecting something was off. They spent the following weeks in search of any clues to decipher Hero's mysterious disappearance, any clues that could lead them to Hero's whereabouts - to no avail.

That is, until today. Villain pulls the letter out of the envelope and unfolds it. An invitation to Superhero's estate. Villain hums, scrunching their nose. That's the last place they want to go to, but at this point, they'll resort to anything to find Hero.

Little did they know that finding Hero would be the least of their concerns.

Villain exits the apartment, making their way outside the city right away. A deep-set sense of anxiety pushes them forward, a feeling of urgency and despair. They can't comprehend what it is yet, the idea building in their subconscious mind, but they can tell it's bad. They can tell it's entirely vile.

Villain doesn't bother announcing their arrival, instead sneaking over the high fences and past the numerous guards. They walk into the manor, darting past the hounds that roam the first floor, and climb to the second floor, where Superhero's study is. Their hands shake with dreadful anticipation.

Villain pushes the door open, and in the same instant, something lunges at them. Their first guess is that it's another dog, but the assumption soon proves untrue. The creature withdraws at the sound of a whistle, skipping back to the leg of its master.

"Good boy," Superhero smiles, brushing Hero's hair the wrong way. Villain watches in shock as Hero turns their head to the side, leaning into the touch and licking Superhero's palm like a dog.

"What the-" Villain breathes out, too stunned to form a coherent thought. They stare with widening eyes at whatever is left of their Hero as they rub their head against their owner's leg, looking for praise. But when their gaze lands on Villain, Hero's expression shifts to pure rage. They snarl, aggressive and aggravated. Villain's voice is barely audible behind their growls. "What have you done?"

"Me? Nothing much," Superhero grins, hooking their fingers into Hero's collar and pulling at it harshly until Hero starts to choke. "I've taught them what they really are. What they deserve to be."

"But why?" Villain glances at them, seeing insanity in Superhero's eyes. They look back at Hero's dehumanised form on all fours. Their back is arched in what Villain assumes is a defensive stance. Their mind is reeling, running a hundred miles an hour. They cannot grasp the situation in full yet, refusing to believe that the creature in front of them is indeed Hero. Their Hero. "W-why?"

"Why, you ask?" Superhero drawls, fisting Hero's hair and tugging with brute force. Hero falls onto their back, letting out a whimpering whine. Villain turns away, unable to take the sight of them in such a state. "You think I haven't noticed the little play you two have devised? Your little game of back and forth?"

"What are you..." Villain starts, getting up from the floor. Hero jumps up, preparing to attack. Superhero zaps them with a shocker, sending their body back down with another loud whimper. "Stop! Please... For the love of God, stop!" Villain yells, their lips and hands trembling in desperation.

"Hero failed. Their purpose was to defeat you. They could have done it months ago," Superhero explains, using their foot to prompt Hero's chin up. "They chose not to. They betrayed their pack, so they needed to learn how to be a good dog."

Villain shudders at the impassive tone of their voice. "You've conditioned them into submission. You've turned them into an animal, you monster!" They spit out, their eyes flaring up with newfound rage. Their fingers curl into fists as they look around the room, trying to find a solution. An escape.

"No, I've made him my pet. I'm a patient master," Superhero caresses Hero's cheek and rubs their ear, their touch looking almost soothing until their fingers squeeze, digging into the skin on Hero's chin. "Now, attack."

Hero switches into a fight mode with a snarl, their teeth glimmering white in the dim-lit room. Villain dodges the attack by jumping to the side and reaching out to take hold of Hero's head, prompting them to meet their gaze.

"Hero, it's me!" Hero's pupils are dilated and empty. They seem incomprehensive. "Please, Hero, it's me, me..." Villain pleads, tears brimming their eyes. For a short moment, something seems to flicker behind Hero's gaze. But, Superhero blows their whistle, and Hero loses all sense of self again, attacking Villain with renewed vigour.

"No, no, no," Villain tries their best to hold Hero back without hurting them. Their voice is thick with emotion when they speak again, struggling to contain Hero.

"Look at me! Please, just look at me..." Their expression is nothing short of begging, but Hero remains unaffected. With no other choice left, Villain grasps Hero's collar, hooking their belt through it and securing it.

Hero is rabid against their leash, thrashing on the ground as Villain stands, facing Superhero.

"No matter how far you take them, they'll always be my pet," Superhero hisses, crossing their arms over their chest with an unmistakable sense of victory. They are so confident in their conviction that they don't bother to arm themself.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Villain lets out a dark chuckle, but there's no humour behind it. "It's not them that betrayed the pack by refusing to defeat me. They could never defeat me in the first place. It was me. I'm the variable you didn't take into account," Villain growls through gritted teeth, taking a step towards Superhero and wrapping a hand around their forearm. "And I will burn you to ashes."

Before Superhero can register it, their skin starts melting off their body, the tangy smell of burnt flesh filling the room. In mere seconds, Superhero's body hits the floor, their moaning sounding like music to Villain's ears as fire washes over them. Hero howls, tagging at their impromptu leash, but Villain remains unyielding. They kneel next to them, ripping the whistle off Superhero's neck, then wrap the belt around their knuckles, forcing Hero to their feet. Villain cups their cheeks, their fingers tender on Hero's clammy skin, and looks into their eyes in hopes of finding recognition - all they see instead is fear.

Primal, animalistic fear.

They gulp down the lump in their throat and blow the whistle, watching Hero's eyes light up in recognition of their new master.

Villain knows it's going to be one hell of a journey to get their Hero back. They know it will take weeks, if not months, of constant grind to heal what was so thoroughly broken and even then, Hero might never return to their former cheerful self. But they also know there is no one more worth fighting for.

Villain misses Hero like crazy. And they will have them back.

Masterlist

A/N: Hello, darling! Oh, it's not a bother in the slightest! I'm glad to have you here. I have to admit, for the longest time, I had no idea if I would be able to finish this story. It felt very raw, very painful and hit a little too deep. But at the same time, I felt the need to explore the theme, both as a writer and as a psychologist. So, thank you for this request. I hope it turned out how you imagined it. Love, xo Sunny

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