#sarcastic whumpee
Text
This is Hyacinth
A villain known to target the International Hero Network and considered too dangerous for sidekick aided missions.
He's 24 and having a very bad few months. I'd go into more detail but it's kinda spoilers for later.
But he wakes up, very cold and under a bed. Then apparently his only real shot at both medical treatment and escape is a hyperactive teenager who apparently brought him to the Training Center. Which is a very bad place for villains to be. Hope no one else finds out he's there.
#hero whumper#whump community#seaweeds writing#villain whumpee#sarcastic whumpee#whumpblr#whumpee#whump#hesitate caretaker#villain x hero#hero x villain
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rainbringer #7: An Artists Lament
A pretty tame chapter honestly. The next ones a doozy. Claire asks questions while Kyler paints a portrait.
CW: whumper pov, emotional whump, NSFW themes but nothing actually happens, Whumper having very creepy thoughts, gaslighting, manipulation, noncon kissing, talks about burning and scars. (please let me know if I missed anything).
Previous | Masterlist | Next
There was something dark in Kyler’s eyes today. A haunted look to him as he walked in carrying an easel, canvas, and paints in a satchel. The human looked… tired. He knelt, said hello, and immediately went to set up his canvas in front of the altar by the bench. Barely looking at her.
Black circles were so dark around his eyes, Claire actually found it in herself to be slightly concerned. “Did you sleep at all last night?” She asked, stepping toward him, which caused him to flinch.
Kyler stepped backward, placing his satchel on the bench, eyes scanning her. His lips pursed slowly and he gave a simple response. A simple shake of the head. He sat down and sighed. Starting to pull out the supplies, his hands shaking.
“Kyler,” Claire said softly, “I am not going to hurt you today. You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t even touch you,” she assured. Stepping backwards. She needed to slow down. Things for him were moving far too fast and he was already cracking under the pressure.
“Fine then,” Kyler said, looking up at her, eyes wary. “Let's see if you’ll keep to that.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed, but she forced herself to push down the anger. Instead of acting on the anger, she stepped backwards, crossing her arms in front of her. “Where would you like me, artist?”
Kyler seemed to look straight ahead, frowning as he thought for a moment.
“Wherever you’d like, however you’d like. It’s your portrait, I'm just painting it.”
“However I’d like?”
His eyes narrowed again, before he slowly said, “Yes”.
She took this as an opportunity to sit herself on the altar, laying down on it. Then, she grabbed the straps of her dress, undid them and let it fall to the floor. Claire laid there, bare, in front of Kyler to see. Honestly, she expected a gasp, maybe even a grumble to put her clothes back on. There was nothing. There was just Kyler staring at her with a studious gaze. Before placing the canvas on the easel. Kyler was a marvel. The lack of reaction annoyed and interested her. Did he not realize that he was in the presence of a god. A god who craved him? Wanted him viscerally??
“You look so lonely over there, clothed and watching.”
Kyler looked up from his canvas, adjusting it so he could see her better. His expression was perfectly neutral.
“I am perfectly comfortable over here with my clothes on, thank you very much.”
She fake pouted and sighed. Draping herself over the altar, looking bored. She was bored. Kyler was always so walled, so quiet, unless of course it was the sarcasm. There were so many things to be learned about him. She needed him to talk.
“Let’s play a game. You paint me, I won’t touch you for a whole day for every question that I ask and you answer.”
There was a hum as Kyler contemplated the suggestion. “Alright. Ask then.”
“What are the scars from?”
She could see him stiffen behind the canvas. Face contorted into a grimace as he seemed to recall a bad memory. Slowly, he went back to mix the paint. A sigh leaving his lips. He brought the brush back to the canvas, effectively hiding behind it. “An accident.. when I was a child..”
Claire had figured as much, but still she pressed. “What type of accident?”
Kyler sat up straight and glanced at Claire over the canvas. Lips pressed into a thin line. “What type of accident do you think it was?” he nearly growled. But there wasn’t any real anger behind it. She wasn’t sure if he was even capable of anger. He mostly seemed.. sad about it. Annoyed perhaps as well. She let him have his words today. His sarcasm and defenses. She worried that if she punished him now he would break under her.
There was always time for punishment later.
“The scars look like burns. A fire,” she answered, even though she was sure the question was rhetorical.
“A fire,” Kyler confirmed. Nodding. Hand moving again on the canvas.
“Do the scars still hurt?”
“Why? Would you like to make them worse?”
Claire tightened her fists, glaring at him for a moment. “No. I was just wondering if that’s why you aren’t interested in me. If you’re scared to show yourself to me because of whatever it may look like down there. I assume they are around that area?”
Kyler stiffened again, eyes firmly planted on the canvas. Growling lowly. It was a genuine question from Claire. But it seemed Kyler wasn’t appreciative as he planted the brush on the canvas and began to paint. The strokes were hard and firm. She wondered how he was going to paint her. Evil and domineering? Beautiful and charming? Her curiosity was never satisfied with him.
“They are. But that is not the reason why. I just.. am not interested in that. For anyone.”
“Not even with your partner?”
“Yes, not even with my partner.”
She didn’t understand. “You are very strange for a human.”
Kyler could see him locking his jaw to fight a retort. Probably something smartass like. Something about her being a goddess. Instead he just continued to paint, the brush strokes were softer now. It was lovely to watch him work. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, biting his lip, watching as his hand methodically worked with the paints and the brush. He almost looked at peace at the moment. It was strange to see him so.. Calm in her presence. It was almost as nice as having him writing under her, screaming.
Almost.
“What is your partner like?”
Kyler didn’t flinch at this question like the others. He glanced upwards at her and she could have sworn there was a semblance of a smile on that face.
“They’re amazing. I’ve known them since I was a child,” his voice was no longer strained with fear or sarcasm. “They pretend they don’t care, but.. They care a lot more than most people.” Kyler seemed to lose himself in the painting and talking.
“Do you like them better than me?”
Kyler snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not sure you want the truth to that question.”
“Why would I ask it if I didn’t want to know?”
The man seemed to ponder this as he chewed on his lip more. “Of course I like them better than you, you’ve hurt me. They haven’t,” he stated plainly. Returning his attention back to the painting. She wasn’t quite sure why that hurt her so. Claire wasn’t that bad was she? Yes she hurt him, but he always begged and she always healed him after. This was a deal, it was.. A mutual agreement. In fact, he should be grateful that she chose him. He should love her. Worship her, be groveling at her feet and begging to be taken by her. Claire huffed and cocked her head at him.
“Do you love them?”
“Yes,” the answer was automatic, that only served to anger Claire more.
“Do they love you? How could they? You won’t let them have you the way they want. You can’t seriously think that they could keep waiting for you forever. They’ve probably slept around with others. Since you don’t want to satisfy them.”
Kyler’s expression was pained, inhaling sharply.
“You don’t know them,” he said, voice shaking.
“I mean.. Think about it Kyler. If you can’t satisfy someone, then.. Why would they want you?”
Kyler looked up at her, eyes hurt, frown evident on his face.
“You’re.. You’re wrong,”
“No i’m not and you know it, don't you? What should I do? What if I want you to satisfy me? Do you think you could even stomach it? Really satisfy me in any way that I want?” The silence in the temple was suffocating. A choked sound came from Kyler as Claire continued. “I want you Kyler and if you can’t even do that for me. What use do you really have?”
“Stop.”
Claire sat up on the altar and hopped off, walking toward Kyler as he stood up and scrambled backwards into the bench.
“Claire stop! You promised,” he begged and the sound was musical.
“I did,” she agreed and then laughed, stopping at the canvas and looked at the painting.
“You really are an artist..” she whispered, marveling at the piece in front of her.
She looked powerful. Draped over the altar, darkness surrounding her, eyes dark and heavy. Claire turned to Kyler, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him up. Then she pressed her lips against his, feeling powerful too.
Taglist: @for-the-love-of-angst @whumpifi @devourerofcheesecake @whumpinthepot
#whumper pov#emotional whump#gaslighting#Manipulation#noncon kissing#nudity#creepy/intimate whumper#sarcastic whumpee#whumpblr#whump#whump blog#sunshine writes whump#rainbringer
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I despise you and everything you stand for. I’ll destroy everything you love and then you. You will be nothing by the time I’m done with you.”
“Nice monologue, you get the part. Can I go now?”
#whump#defiant whumpee#sarcastic whumpee#whump prompt#whump writing#whump dialogue#dialogue#writing#whump idea#whumplr#prompt#still don’t know what i’m doing
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dark Water
Chapter 10 : Plundered
prev | masterlist | next
CW: needles, unconscious whumpee, tending to wounds without anesthesia, restraining, injury, panic attack
The pain… Moss thought he could withstand it. What’s a little more? More that was supposed to help him not die from an open wound at sea? But as they strapped him down onto a table in the Galley and forced a piece of cloth in his mouth, Moss thought he saw death lingering; scythe over his head, ready to reap his soul.
“It’s clean through,” said an older voice. Though it could have just been the crackling in Moss’ ears from the panic, “didn’t hit bone, that’s good, but it did damage the muscle. He might not walk the same. Hold him."
Moss struggled beneath the hands gripping him to the table, watching as a bottle was lifted from somewhere out of his view, uncorked, and tipped.
Oh- oh no… Moss tried to pull away, grinding his limbs into the tabletop.
Then the liquid hit, and Moss’ whole body tensed, pulling at ropes and arms, clamping his jaw shut as speckled white dots overtook his vision.
He could feel it froth, burning through his flesh and dripping out the other side. Pressure built behind his eyeballs, coming out as tears and a rough scream that tore his throat. Then everything went black.
He awoke as they flipped him on his stomach. He felt a prick in his thigh along with a burning. He heard a quiet voice begging and pleading for them to stop before he lost consciousness again.
“Make sure they know of his wound. He needs the correct care or he might lose it.”
“I’m sure that won’t happen, though who’s to say how pirates treat their plunder?”
…
Moss awoke screaming. He tried to grab his leg, fighting away the grasping hands that held him down.
“Oy! Shut up!”
Moss blinked and looked to his right where another face glared at him. He glanced around, his gasping breath catching as his vision cleared and he found himself surrounded by crates.
“W-where…?” Is this real? He couldn't move, and pondered the chance that this might be his version of hell.
“We’re on The Shade,” the other said, "I'll explain when you calm down a bit."
Moss leaned forward and pressed his knee into his head as he took a few shaking breaths. He could feel the strong aching in his leg and face. Not dead. Not dead.
His lips were left tingling by the stress when his breath finally leveled out. What he had previously thought were hands were actually cuffs around his wrists, binding him to a pipe that led down through the deck. Moss looked to the other sailor, who was relaxing against the wall, hands also behind his back.
“Okay…” Moss swallowed as his voice cracked and he sat back up, “I-I’m okay.”
The other turned to look at Moss. It was the sailor that had punched him. Moss scoffed and turned away.
“Oh, well if you don’t wanna know then-”
“-I don’t care what you have to say.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” the sailor said, “I'm sure you know how to not get yourself killed, too. Right? Or is your plan to cry if you get shot?”
“You took me to the Captain!” Moss yelled.
“Shh!” the sailor waved his head, "you think you're the only prisoner on that boat? You-" he took a deep breath in and recalculated, “Ok. Yes, I did. Under orders. Can we start over? I’m Isidro.”
Moss watched as Isidro pushed out a bandaged hand for him to shake. He looked the man in the eye; Grey with a curious glimmer.
“Oh, yeah. Let me help you with that,” Isidro brought both hands away from the pipe and leaned over. Moss felt his cuffs loosen, and he pulled his hands away, rubbing his wrists and noticing his bandaged forearms while looking over at the sailor, who got comfortable again by placing both hands behind his head and closing his eyes.
Moss scoot away, keeping an eye on Isidro. The sailor winced and set his injured hand on his lap.
Moss didn't want to ask what was going on. He could say anything, and what could Moss do except believe him?
“You forget how to talk?” Isidro asked, eyes still closed but sensing Moss' intense gaze.
Moss shook his head, then cleared his throat, “I’m just… I don’t know- ah!” the boat tossed unexpectedly, throwing him back against a crate. He grabbed his leg; the white cloth jumped out at him from a small hole in his pants.
"The sedative lasted a while," Isidro said, holding up his hand, "knife."
Moss wiped sweat from his brow and carefully straightened his leg, leaning his head back when it finally rested on the floor. He gave up. Better a semblance of a lie than no information whatsoever.
"What's going on?" He finally asked.
Isidro opened his eyes and rolled his head to look at Moss.
"We're on our way to Talon," he stated, “The Captain sold us off. Only for a couple bags of coin, too. I think I’m worth at least twice-”
"-Talon?” Moss interrupted, “Like the… the pirate island?"
“Aye,” Isidro closed his eyes again, relaxing back, “Now be quiet while I get some sleep. Getting stabbed really took it out of me.”
Moss shook his head and he tried to get up. His hands latched onto the side of the crate against his back, and he hoisted himself on his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Isidro looked, “What are you doing?”
“I-I have to get out of here. This was a mistake. It was all a mistake- I shouldn’t have-” he swallowed, barely able to register anything else besides the beating of his heart as the walls began to close in on him; creaking against his shoes, whispering his name, splintering like fingers crawling up his legs to drag him away.
Then Isidro was in front of him, saying something and looking over his own shoulder towards the stairs- Moss saw stars, and his head snapped back to Isidro, then at his open hand.
Moss grimaced and Isidro’ eyes widened as he raised his hands.
“You were spiraling. I had to-” He ducked, feeling the breeze as Moss’ fist clip the top of his head.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Moss yelled, raising his injured leg to kick Isidro away. The bottom of his foot made contact, sending splintering pain up his thigh that made him gasp. His back hit the floor and he grabbed at his leg, looking up at a concerned Isidro, who was holding his foot.
“F-fuck off…” Moss huffed, trying to pull his foot away. It wouldn’t budge. He tried to wiggle his toes… nothing, “g-god… It hurts…”
“You had a lead bullet in it, mate,” Isidro let go, and Moss’ leg dropped to the ground. He bit his tongue to quiet his scream.
Isidro smirked and returned to his spot, "at least you're a fast learner. Maybe you won’t die after all.”
Moss took a second to gain his bearings; feeling the pain wash over him, muting to an ache, then a burn. Then a… rumble?
"Talon ho!"
Isidro looked at the stairs, "They were running. Get up, swabbie. Put your cuffs on before they catch you."
Moss sat up, grinding his teeth as he pulled himself back to the pipe. He couldn't even remember tightening the cuffs again, or the faces of the men that took him up to the deck, but he did hear Isidro’ voice whispering as the ship neared the docks.
“Don’t say a word.”
He wanted to say no; that he wouldn’t be listening to anyone- but Moss couldn’t say that, not when every breath and step took all of his effort, and when he was dragged onto Talon and forced to kneel as the Captain and a woman bartered.
“What am I supposed ta do wi’ them?” The woman asked, her arms crossed over her chest, “both are injured. One looks like he’s ready ta fall over dead.”
“They’re both healthy enough,” The Captain schmoozed, his voice loud and boisterous, like a drunken king, “the doc took a look at that one and said he was fine. Just need to sleep it off. Couple days at most.”
“You’re not talkin’ to a moron, Yulis-”
“-I'd never even imply such a thing.”
There was a slight pause, and the Captain’s voice hushed to barely audible over the sound of riotous music, “they’ll pay for themselves, Theodora.”
Silence. Moss swayed and felt a shoulder press up against his, steadying him on one side. The moist soil seeped into the knees of his pants, sending a cold shiver up his spine.
“A crate and them for three nights and five pints each.”
“Two nights and an open tab,” The Captain countered.
"Ha!" Theodora guffawed, "if I do that you'll drink me out of house and home."
"An extra crate, then."
Theodora’s eyes narrowed. She stepped away from the Captain and towards the two men in question. She took a quick look at Moss, grimacing at his sorry state. It all meant money. Money getting him well, money housing him, feeding him… then she looked at Isidro, and Isidro looked back.
She grabbed his chin with calloused fingers and turned his face over. She smiled as she noticed the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
“Two crates,” she looked back at the Captain, “ye got a deal.”
Taglist: @sparrowsage @kixngiggles @honey-is-mesi
(Please let me know if you would like on or off this list!)
#whump series#pirate whump#two whumpees#sarcastic whumpee#unconscious whumpee#dark water by jovi#originalfiction
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whump Prompt
cw: implied mouth whump, interrogation whump, defiant whumpee, demeaning language, knives, manhandling
“If you weren’t so stupid, this would be over by now.” Whumper turned their back on the captive, surveying the blades lines on the table in front of them.
Whumpee pretended they weren’t watching. But their eyes never left the long fingers trailing along the hilts of the knives. Fingers with rings and blood for decoration.
Whumpee shuddered. They tilted their head back to stare at the fluorescent lights. Better than staring at the interrogator.
“If,” they squinted at the ceiling, wishing their throat wasn't so raw, “If this was over, I think I could happily say I won’t miss you.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not.” Whumper had finally settled on a knife. “Should I start with your mouth? I don’t think you’ll be needing it for much longer.” They turned, smiling.
Whumpee closed their mouth with an audible snap, backing themselves further into the corner as Whumper approached, the knife a whirl of metal in their hands.
For once, all urge to be sarcastic left them. And cold horror seeped into their bones, cracking them in a hundred ways.
They crumpled. Silently. Eyes wide.
Their heart in their throat.
The cold walls offered no protection and Whumper easily hauled Whumpee to their feet, shoving their back up against the wall. With their free hand, Whumper grabbed Whumpee’s chin, tilting it towards them.
“I would say this won’t hurt. But,” again that insufferable smile. “It really will.”
#have a prompt#cws above the cut#i write one type of whumpee#sarcastic and bitter and absolutely about to get the shit beat out of them#whump#whump community#whumpblr#whump writing#whump prompts#whump prompt
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whump prompt 5
Give me stubborn and sarcastic whumpee and stubborn and sarcastic caretaker. Bonus points if they are rivals and can`t stand each other but caretaker has to care for whumpee and bonus bonus points if this will become enemies-to-lovers trope.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumper overestimates how much torture Whumpee can take. The once-defiant Whumpee is broken and catatonic, not speaking or reacting to anything anymore. And Whumper isn't happy about it. Though they loathe to admit it, they liked Whumpee's defiance. It was entertaining. Whumpee was entertaining. With them not speaking anymore, Whumper realizes that they miss the sound of Whumpee's voice. The snarky little comments, the sarcastic jokes, the curses screamed in rage.
Now Whumper is desperate to get the old Whumpee back. They're being extra "nice," giving Whumpee medical treatment and food, anything to make them go back to how they were before. Anything to fix their favorite toy.
Because like it or not, Whumper doesn't have anyone else.
918 notes
·
View notes
Text
make!! ur whumpee!! feel little and stupid!!! patronise them!!! be sarcastic and condescending to them!!! coo at them and praise them for the simplest things!!! in fact only ever give them stupidly simple tasks and force them to do said tasks and act like it must be super hard for them!!! never ever give them proper enrichment or stimuli so that they cant keep up their original level of smarts and wit!!! chip away at their brain until they rly do get a little dumb!!! knock on their stupid empty head often and remark how hollow it sounds!!! not a thought in there!!!
#im very passionate abt this#especially tonight#all whumpees must feel little and stupid#i decree it#whump#whump prompt#i guess??#idk im just screaming into the void mostly
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
A little something about defiant Whumpee!
I know we like to see those feisty little boys crumble to the ground, utterly broken!
But, Let me pose you: A Whumper who likes the defiance. One who enjoys the sassy comments, rude remarks and sarcastic lines. Whumper who is amused by seeing Whumpee think they have some kind of power in the situation and they let them float in it, not really punishing them. And I hear you. That doesn’t really sound whumpy but now imagine that whumper snapping at Whumpee, who was just one tiny itty bitty bit above a nonexistent line.
Maybe they slap them hard across the face for a comment. The usual grin replaced by a frown and harsh narrow eyes. Or maybe they start yelling at Whumpee, the amused tone making room for a cold and not at all smug voice. Or Whumper doesn’t need to do anything, the dropped face being enough for Whumpee to shut up and know that they have crossed a line.
And now Imagine Whumpee, completely thrown back by the sudden change of emotions. They can do nothing but stare up at Whumper, all the defiance and sass erased from their eyes while they try to figure out what just happened. Where was that line? Was it just for fun or did they actually go to far? Who knows! Definitely not them. :)
And then Whumper’s smile returns again. But it isn’t the same! It’s a lot darker and creepier than what they usually wear. It is absolutely unnerving and terrifying for Whumpee.
So yeah, defiant Whumpee….
Please let me know where I can find something like this, thanks
Masterlist
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rainbringer #2: Say That Again
Kyler starts regretting his decision about making a deal with a goddess. Claire finds out she likes it when Kyler begs.
CW: begging, aftermath of choking, noncon touching (nonsexual), begging, fear of choking, fear of death, brief mention of a knife at the end
Previous | Masterlist | Next
His head hurt. There was a deep throbbing ache on the front of his skull. It took a moment to realize that someone was touching him. Stroking his hair, playing with it. He groaned and tried to lift his head. Then he opened his eyes. Ah, he was still in the temple. Claire was stroking his hair. Oh, she was stroking his hair and his head was in her damn lap. No, no, he didn’t like that. But he felt so heavy. His eyes felt so heavy, he wondered for a moment if she was playing a trick. The gentle, soft touch. He didn’t expect this from her.
“I passed out,” he mumbled, looking up at her. His brain was foggy, like everything was in slow motion. Even his tongue felt heavy.
“Yes you did,” she agreed, smiling gently, “I went too far. I always forget..”
Kyler didn’t say anything, he just started to push himself to sit up. Claire didn’t stop him. His hair had fallen out of its neat low ponytail and he groaned slightly when he righted himself. He brought a hand to his neck, suddenly remembering the feeling of her hands around it. Squeezing, letting go, squeezing. Suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe again.
“I healed the bruising,” she stated plainly.
Kyler sighed slightly but it came out more like a wheeze. It was the panic, not the damage. He knew he could breathe normally again but it was the memory of it that was making him feel unwell. Holding his head he groaned again.
“Wow, thanks for that. Really helped me out there,” Kyler said sarcastically, grabbing onto a bench in the temple, and pushing himself into an awkward standing position. He stood half bent over the bench, eyes shut tightly. This headache wasn’t going away was it? No no, this was a different headache.
“I thought we learned a lesson ten minutes ago about disrespect,” Claire said, her voice right next to his ear, breath hot. She was always so close. Did she need to be that close? “I figured I would get rid of the bruises as a favor. For when you go home tonight. Anyone waiting for you?”
Kyler winced as he stood up, turning to face her. Lying would be met with punishment so he answered as vaguely as he could. “Yes.”
“Who?”
“Knowing my personal life was not part of this agreement,” Kyler said warily, gauging her reaction.
“True, but knowing makes you more interesting for me to play with.”
“Great, I definitely want that for me.” Her eyes turned cruel again, and he raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
There was a pause in the room. Like even the air itself stopped moving.
“Say that again,” Claire said, a bit giddily. A child. Why did she act like a child when she was the most cruel?
“What?” he asked, licking his lips slightly.
“You heard me Kyler,” again her eyes were lit up in childlike wonder at the way she was forcing him to apologize again.
“I don’t-”
She shoved him on the bench and he grabbed the front of it to stop himself from falling. He really should have just apologized in the first place. His sarcasm was getting him into trouble here. As per usual, but this was different. This was a goddess. As long as she didn’t put her hands around his throat again. Anything but that.
“Don’t be stubborn, just apologize. Or I can keep you here for longer. I can make you pass out again. Worry whoever is waiting for you at home.”
Kyler bit his lip and balled his fists. Step one to getting through this deal alive and not worrying Irvington: get over his pride.
“No.. I’m sorry..” he finally said, swallowing hard. Picturing her hands around his throat again. “I’m sorry.. Please.. Please just let me go home.”
Claire sighed contently, gently running her hand through his hair, moving it behind his ear. Always touching, always. What was with the touching? It took everything in him not to slap her hands away.
“I love how sweet you sound when you’re begging. I’m going to ask for that more often,” she mused, running her fingers over his ear, tugging playfully on his earlobe. He stood up and she took a few steps back.
“Can I leave now?”
“Yes Kyler,” Claire said with a pout, “But we are going to have so much fun tomorrow.”
So much fun, he thought to himself, as he started to walk past her.
“Bring a knife tomorrow, I want to try something.”
His heart stopped.
Started again.
He left the temple without another word.
Kyler was starting to regret his deal with the goddess. Was the pain worth the rain? The answer was still yet to be answered.
tag list: @robinbugbanned @devourerofcheesecake @whumpinthepot @for-the-love-of-angst
#whump#whumpblr#poc whump#sunshine writes whump#rainbringer#kyler lluvia#Claire the goddess#lady whumper#touch averse whumpee#knife mention#begging#aftermath of choking#lots of fear and intimidation#Claire REALLY enjoys when Kyler begs#Kyler is sarcastic af and it gets him into trouble#any guesses as to what Claire has planned?
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumpee who hasn't seen whumper in eons yet can't stand the sound of whistling. The hair on their arms and neck standing up on edge. Feeling the need to run away whenever they hear that awful sound. Always high pitched and taunting. A sarcastic modality. Sent back to a time where it meant the onslaught of pain. Caretaker picks up on it when they feel whumpee's breath hitch in the middle of grocery shopping. Immediately taking their hand...a tether they can hold onto. Whumpee grabs on, wrapping like a boa constrictor around their arm. Caretaker attempts to hurry their way through.
#iago writes#whumpee x whumper#whumpee x caretaker#whumper#whumpee#caretaker#whump#whump scenario#whumpblr
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't want to talk about how long this sat in my drafts waiting for me to figure out the ending 🤦- Mj
Whumpee adjusted how they were lying on their pedestal. They were bored to death for this last-minute dinner party Whumper planned. They hid a small yawn, not wanting to seem too bored.
"I saw that", Whumper stepped up, and handed them a plate of goodies, "a few more hours and you can be done."
Whumpee sat up and eagerly took the food, "thankyou master."
Whumpee watched as Whumper talked with their guest. The food they had just received made it worth being their master's eye candy for the guest.
Whumpee was considered a Chattel slave, Whumper had purchased them from the black market. A chattel slave was pretty much considered someone's property, no different than livestock or the couch in the corner.
Whumper used Whumpee as an ornament, an object of their money. The guest often marveled at just how beautiful Whumpee was. Whumpee had been conditioned by their traffickers for this type of work.
Whumper never laid a punishing hand on them, they didn't have to. That hell was all done by the traffickers. Whumper could just enjoy their doll... or honestly, their puppet.
Whumpee was often dressed in the most expensive, often revealing outfits Whumper could find. Whumpee looked down at the lacy skin tight outfit they had on. They had lacy wraps around their wrist to match, but to also hide the rope burns from last night's fun in the master's bed. Lastly, they looked down at the sparkly shackle on their ankle, that was followed by a sparkly chain cemented into their pedestal.
A lady came up and started to ask Whumpee questions about themself and Whumper.
Whumpee stared straight ahead, not acknowledging the woman. They wished she'd go away though so they could eat more.
"Look at me, and talk to me, you useless...", the woman comanded, "how rude", they took their wine glass and threw the drink at Whumpee.
Whumpee gasped as the dark wine spilled over them.
Whumper came running, two butlers followed.
"What the heck is going on", Whumper looked at the wine covered Whumpee, then the woman.
"They wouldn't answer me. It's just like you to have a rude servant", the lady answered.
"She came up and started asking me questions about you, and about me master", Whumpee also answered while awkwardly holding out their arms do to the wine dripping from them, "I didn't acknowledge her, and she threw wine at me."
Whumper's anger flared at the lady, "they are not supposed to talk to people. They are furniture to look at. They were doing exactly as they were trained", Whumper spoke through gritted teeth, "the only way they can talk to someone is if they have my permission to talk to them."
"So you purposely made them rude", the lady looked up at Whumpee, who now was looking right at them.
"No that is how they were trained, and who are you to think you have a right to talk to my property", Whumper argued, "I literally started this party explaining how to interact with Whumpee, and if you wanted to talk to them to ask me, I would have happily introduced you. Everyone else has followed that rule, and that is much appreciated by me and Whumpee. Whumpee enjoys talking to people under the correct circumstances."
"I'm sure they would appreciate being able to talk to whomever they want", the lady fired back.
"And they would want to talk to you because?", Whumper asked sarcastically.
Whumpee grinned a little, hiding a laugh.
"Well I've never", the lady gasped.
"Well, it's about time someone talks to you like that", Whumper frowned, "your invitation to my parties is being revoked, my butler will escort you out.
When the lady was gone, Whumper turned to Whumpee.
"I guess that outfit is done. There is no coming back from that grape wine", Whumper stepped up, and unlocked the shackle, "I'm relieving you for tonight, go get cleaned up and relax in my room", Whumper caressed Whumpee's face.
Whumpee leaned their face into Whumper's gentle hand.
Whumper looked up at a butler, "Whumpee didn't get to eat much thanks to the lady, have chef cook them something."
"Yes sir", the butler bowed.
Whumper gave a hand to Whumpee to step down from the pedestal. They watched Whumpee as they left the party.
"I'm sorry for the disturbance in our party. Please continue to enjoy yourself", Whumper looked around, "I do apologize. Whumpee won't be joining us for the rest of it though."
The crowd had watched Whumpee leave, they all seemed sorry to see them go.
Later that night, Whumper went into their bedroom. They smiled when they saw Whumpee resting on the bed reading a book.
"Master", Whumpee closed the book and sat up, "how was the rest of the party."
"You have no idea how many people asked about you once you left", Whumper walked to them, "all so concerned about you", they started to get undressed.
Whumper caressed Whumpee's face lovingly.
"I'm going to shower, then we can go to bed", Whumper grinned.
Whumpee leaned into the touch.
"Are you tired, my dear?", Whumper smiled.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry about the wine spill", Whumpee frowned.
"That wasn't your fault. You were doing what you were supposed to do", Whumper turned toward the bathroom, "it only means I need to find you a copy of that outfit. You looked stunning in it."
"Thankyou master", Whumpee smiled weakly.
That night, Whumpee was cuddled into Whumper's arms.
They moved up and down with every snore Whumper made.
Whumpee blinked away a tear.
"I wish I was free", Whumpee whispered before forcing themself to go to sleep.
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
#whump community#whumplr#whumblr#whump stuff#whump writing#whump writer#whump ideas#whump#whump scenario#whumpee#black market whumpee#slave whumpee#whumpee on display#whumper#intimate whumper#master whumper#slave whump#caretaking#oc#original story
109 notes
·
View notes
Text
Defiant whumpee who copes with humour dialogue pt. 2
• • •
Caretaker: *upon finding Whumpee standing over Whumper’s body* “What happened?”
Whumpee: “Would you believe me if I said they fell on the knife?”
• • •
Whumper: “Caretaker will never want you back”
Whumpee: *speaking as they would to a small child* “Aww, are you projecting your abandonment issues again?”
• • •
Whumper: “Finally I have you, what could be better than this?”
Whumpee: *singing softly* “if you only had a brain”
• • •
Whumpee: *literally dying*
Caretaker: *panicking* “Hold on, just hold on!”
Whumpee: “To what?”
• • •
Caretaker: *upon finding Whumpee during rescue* “Oh thank god you’re okay”
Whumpee: “I am so far from okay right now”
• • •
Whumpee: *being held prisoner*
Whumpee: *singing* “I’m breaking out, when September ends”
Whumper: “… It’s July”
Whumpee: “Shh, let me have my moment”
• • •
Whumper: “I’m going to kill you”
Whumpee: “Ugh, can you at least have someone else do it? No offence but I’d rather not have your face be the last thing I ever see”
• • •
Whumper: *locks Whumpee in a bare cell*
Whumpee: “You know, a throw rug goes a long way”
• • •
Caretaker: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!”
Whumpee: “How about what slowly kills you from the inside?”
• • •
Whumper: *revealing their dramatic backstory*
Whumpee: “I think I’ve seen this episode of Criminal Minds”
• • •
Whumpee: *chained to the ceiling shirtless*
Whumpee: “Finally, all those years of belly dancing are paying off”
• • •
Whumper: *walks into Whumpee’s cell*
Whumpee: *yells suddenly* “What are you doing in my swamp?”
• • •
Whumper: “I’m going to be gone for a few days”
Whumpee: *sarcastically* “oh good, you deserve a break”
• • •
Caretaker: “How did you escape?”
Whumpee: “pulled some real Houdini shit, you’d never believe me if I told you”
• • •
Whumpee: *yelling for several minutes to piss Whumper off*
Whumper: *storms up to them angrily* “What is your problem?”
Whumpee: “I have several, you’ll have to be more specific”
Whumper: “why are you screaming?”
Whumpee: *grinning* “I just think it’s neat”
• • •
Whumpee: *shows up on Caretaker’s porch after being missing for months*
Whumpee: “surprise motherfucker” *collapses*
• • •
Whumper: “It’s time for our daily session.”
Whumpee: “Oof, I’m sorry, you’ve caught me at a bad time. My schedule is booked wall to wall. Does next Thursday work for you?”
• • •
Whumper: “Stay quiet and do as I say and we won’t have any issues.”
Whumpee: “We’re going to have issues.”
• • •
Caretaker: “How bad is it?”
Whumpee: *putting pressure on a stab wound* “Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but Tis enough”
Caretaker: “FFS WHUMPEE NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR SHAKESPEARE”
• • •
Feel free to add!
#whump#whump prompt#whump idea#whump dialogue#caretaker#whumpee#whumper#whump humour#defiant whumpee#whumpblr#whunp community
755 notes
·
View notes
Note
I feel like I’m being too obvious but I definitely associate you with hero and villain whump
👀well can’t really argue with that *ahem* i do love villain and hero whump and i am not about to say otherwise
also like that’s the majority of the pieces i write
so there is that i suppose
#and cmon#is there really anything better than a villain whumpee#sarcastic and bitter and absolutely about to get the crap knocked out of them?#:}
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
I love a whumper that hems and haws about how, well, they don’t really want to hurt whumpee but it’s a punishment and how else will they learn how to behave if they’re allowed to do whatever they’d like without consequences?
If whumpee does anything from trying to escape, to name calling, maybe even just being a bit sarcastic, anything whumper doesn’t approve of, it’s just pain in store for them. Even struggling during their punishments can get them in trouble, depending on whumper’s mood
Whumpee is on edge, not ever really sure what whumper’s limits are sometimes. And that cold dread that settles in their stomach when whumper gives them that disappointed look and sighs.
And maybe one day, whumpee just gives up. They don’t struggle against their bonds, they don’t plead for the pain to end, they hardly even cry out. Once it’s all over, whumper smiles and strokes their cheek. Isn’t it so much nicer when they can behave properly?
#whump#whump prompt#whump scenario#atlas post#whump conditioning#whumpblr#i do think abt this…dreamy sigh
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
When a caretaker is sitting with a half asleep/delirious/out of it whumpee and says something like "we need to do something about that fever," and the whumpee mumbling "what fever?" in response... just does something to me. Are they genuinely so out of it they don't know how badly off they are? Have they been so hyped up on adrenaline that when they crash they can hardly tell? Are they just being sarcastic even in their miserable state????
343 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
karacdsissy
Kara
ma4chestier
chicken tendies
raulhdezr
Sin título
t0mhughes
DreamyDoodleDaze
karacdsissy
Kara