#future whumper turned caretaker perhaps?

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

cw captive whumpee, injury, betrayal, tortured for information, intimate whumper 

After hours of torture, of beatings, of sleep deprivation, Whumpee finally gives in. Coughing up a mouthful of blood onto the ground at Whumper’s feet, they beg, “S-stop, please. No more, I can’t—I'll tell you, I-I'll tell you everything.” 

“You lasted longer than I thought.” Whumper crouches down in front of them, taking Whumpee’s chin in their hand and tilting their head up. Their expression is almost sympathetic as they take in Whumpee’s teary eyes and bruised face. “But it’s okay. It’ll all be over if you give me the information I need. And then, just think how nice it will be to finally rest. You can sleep in a real bed while your injuries heal.” 

Whumpee doesn’t need any more convincing. They choke out the information through sobs, clinging to Whumper, and each heave of their chest sends pain shooting through their broken ribs. But it will be over soon—Whumpee doesn’t know why they even held out this long if they were just going to break anyway. 

Whumper strokes their hair gently as they give up the secrets they were trained to die for. Endangering their team’s entire operation and perhaps their lives. But then again, it’s not like Whumpee’s team came to rescue them—as Whumper had reminded them countless times. And they were right. 

“Good…that’s perfect, Whumpee,” Whumper praises after they’ve finished spilling every bit of information that had been requested, and then some. “Thanks to you, your team won’t stand a chance against me, now.” 

A sense of relief washes over Whumpee. It's done—the suffering is finally over with. They want to sleep until the pain no longer clings to their bones and laces every movement. However, their relief is quickly replaced by a fresh bout of fear at the realization of what they’ve just done. “They’ll know it was me,” Whumpee whispers brokenly.  

“Of course they will,” Whumper says, matter-of-fact. “And they will go looking for you. And if they find you, they will kill you.” 

Whumpee shakes their head. “Worse,” they correct. “They’ll do so much worse than just kill me.” 

A sharp pain shoots through their side and they groan, clutching at one of their wounds. Whumper gathers them into their arms before they collapse completely, and assures Whumpee, “That’s why you will be staying with me. In exchange for giving up the information I needed, you will be under my protection.” 

Whumpee can’t possibly have heard them right. They must be delirious from the pain. “W-what?” they stammer. Everything is growing fuzzy, and now that they’re being held in Whumper’s arms, they just want to let their eyes fall shut and surrender to sleep. 

The gentle fingers brushing back Whumpee’s hair lull them further into unconsciousness as Whumper murmurs, “I can’t just give you up now, sweetheart. I think you’d make a valuable addition to my team.” 

Whumpee hums in agreement, not quite sure what they’re agreeing to, but if it means an end to the pain, they’ll do just about anything. 

“You were never cut out for this line of work, were you?” Whumper says teasingly. They lift Whumpee in their arms and begin carrying them somewhere, but the gentle rocking motion of their steps eases Whumpee into sleep long before they find out where they’re being taken. 

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #intimate whumper #captive whumpee #tortured for information #emotional whump #physical whump #betrayal #requests open #future whumper turned caretaker perhaps? #interrogation whump #snippet

[whump-blog]

-The Whumpers' Soirée-

“A failure can also be a success”

This is a @the-whumpers-soiree 's event in which Whumper is invited to a party to capture a Whumpee. At the entrance of the party by default everyone is given a blue glowstick to wear as a bracelet, the Whumpers instead wear a red one. (This makes it easier to identify potential targets) >:)

Thanks for the invitation @worldofwhumpcraft, I know it took me months, but here it is!

CW: box boy universe, fear of death, drugging, beating, power abuse, whumper turned caretaker, scared whumpee, slavery, pet whump? (more like a servant in this scenario) 

============

Whumper arrived at the party with high expectations. A red bracelet on his wrist and a basement ready to welcome his future victim at home.

The party atmosphere was what anyone would expect, those slaves, the box boys were serving drinks, music was playing in the background and the dim lighting created an ideal environment for them, the predators, to prey on their targets.

The blue bracelets that pointed to all those people who ignored the real purpose of the party, danced, drank and chatted, ignoring the danger that glowed red all around them.

But even with this promising scenario, none of the guests with blue bracelets had succeeded in captivating Whumper, and the few that had caught his attention were quickly taken by others with the same purpose as him.

He could not leave empty-handed, he would be everyone's joke. But in the end, with his "skills?" he would manage to catch someone, Whumper knew that well, but the fact that he had failed so far was making him anxious. A few beads of sweat appeared on his face, and Whumper decided he needed a moment to calm down.

————

As he closed the door to the toilets, the sound of music and the deafening voices were locked outside, relegated to a distant murmur.

Looking around, he noticed that the place was empty, and only then let the mask of confidence drop and exhaled deeply. The ice water on his face helped him relax, but even so, when he looked in the mirror, he saw himself with a dishevelled and worried expression. A far cry from the image of security that he intended to project to his victims as much as to his peers. Regaining his composure, he combed his hair back, adjusted the bun on his suit and straightened his jacket, making sure he looked impeccable. Once satisfied with his reflection, Whumper took a deep breath of the soapy, disinfectant-scented air and prepared to go hunting once more.

With a confident smile on his face and a steady hand, he reached for the doorknob; when out of nowhere a sound he had not heard before (busy with himself) made him stop in his tracks and listen carefully.

Then he heard it once more, it was a sob, almost imperceptible, but there it was. Perhaps one of the guests trying to sneak away, perhaps, his perfect opportunity.

And just as he had been ready to leave, he turned and retraced his steps, pushing open the door of each cubicle and peering inside, curious about what he might find.

Whoever was hiding there was also aware of his presence because the moment his footsteps returned the anguished sounds faded away. And that only made him more excited.

Whumper couldn't contain his satisfaction as he kicked in the last door and found the most beauti-

That was not what he was expecting. Huddled between the toilet and the wall was one of the waiters, a box boy.

"What the fuck?" he asked, astonished.

The waiter's terrified expression immediately changed to a more hopeful one as he saw the red bracelet on his wrist (not the reaction Whumper expected) and stood up on shaky legs.

"Sir," Whumpee paused, unsure how to continue, "you have to help me-"

"Whatever it is, I don't know you, and it's not my problem," Whumper said nonchalantly as he turned to leave; when a desperate hand stopped him, pulling at the sleeve of his jacket.

"What do you think you're doing? You better let go now, or you're going to be in big trouble. I know you're not stupid enough not to realize that you're disrespecting a person." Whumper had a stern look on his face and his voice sounded annoyed.

The box boy didn't dare interrupt him, but didn't let him go either.

Before he could shout angrily, the man blurted out "They're going to kill me" Whumper looked him in the eye and noticed the tears reappearing in the pet's determined gaze "please..." he begged.

Those words caught Whumper out of guard, perhaps the manner in which he said them, perhaps the shock of the statement, but without being able to help it the question escaped his lips, "What?"

"I heard them, after the party, they plan to use me. They want... they want... they made a bet, how many blows before I stop breathing." The atmosphere became heavy and after a few seconds the slave without being able to contain himself continued talking; now to himself "I shouldn't, I'm misbehaving, but I can't, I don't want to die..."

"Who are "them"?" questioned Whumper, but the box boy, lost in thought, didn't seem to hear "Hey" Whumper shook him by the shoulders. The man looked at him, lost. 

"Who are “them”?" repeated Whumper impatiently.

"My master... and his friends."

"Your master? Why would he want to kill you?" Whumper reproached incredulously, "that would just be a waste of money."

"It's a bet sir, if my master wins the loser must replace me with a new box boy. And... he always wins."

Whumper's mouth dropped open in thought for an answer. "I don't know, I don't want to get in trouble."

"Don't treat me like a fool sir. I know, I know the meaning of the bracelets, I know the purpose of this party! I serve here," the desperation became more palpable with every word. 

"Well yes... but still... it's a crime what you ask of me... you already belong to someone."

"Sir, please" the pitch of the box boy's voice was getting higher and higher, and the tears were becoming more audible in his voice, "you were going to take someone anyway... Take me instead... I am good... And I am already trained, I will do anything you ask me to do".

"Hah, you don't look as good to me as you claim to be," Whumper said with a funny look that pointed to where the man's hands were still clinging to his suit.

Quickly taking his hands off him, the box boy pleaded "I am, I swear, I can be anything you want, anyone you want, just take me with you, I am desperate, and my actions are unjustified, but you can teach me! You can punish me and I can be a loyal-" a sob cut him off, but didn't stop Whumpee, "I just don't want to die like this, ple-"

Whumper covered the slave's mouth with his hand, and in the renewed silence there was the sound of new footsteps inside the bathroom and then the distinctive sound of the water in one of the sinks being turned on. 

"Fine" Whumper whispered in an authoritative tone. "You're coming with me, but first we need a way to get you out of here, and I think I have the perfect plan."

Pushing the cubicle door a little, through the crack Whumper and Whumpee managed to see one of the guests washing his hands, and in one of those hands a blue bracelet. And their ticket out of that place.

A few minutes later, there was an unconscious party guest on the bathroom floor -not what Whumper had planned when he decided to attend the party- and a shiny blue bracelet on Whumpee's wrist.

"And now for the finishing touch," exclaimed Whumper "drink this!"

"What is this sir?" asked the former waiter, taking the vial of clear liquid in his hands.  

"You're supposed to follow orders, not ask questions," Whumper scolded with a serious expression.

Before he had finished speaking, Whumpee had drunk the liquid.

No matter what, being at Whumper's mercy was better than what awaited him if he stayed. "Yes sir" a few tears of fear glistened in his eyes.

"You're all right," Whumper reassured him, feeling guilty for taking advantage of the poor man's fear.

"It's just going to make you sleep, I was planning to put it in some fool's drink” -Whumper caught Whumpee in his arms when his legs failed him because of the drug- “when you wake up you're going to be home..." 

Whumper left the party with a proud smile and a man with a blue bracelet leaning against his shoulder. As he explained -with a knowing wink- to the guard at the door of the place, he was carrying a "drunk friend". Nobody asked questions and nobody noticed that a box boy was missing, at least not for several hours after Whumper was miles away from the place.

And as Whumper had promised, Whumpee awoke to a soft bed under him and a warm room.

Apparently things had not gone according to Whumper's plan, the basement that awaited a victim had become a guest room and his lonely house had become a home.

The end.

============

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated who was a great motivation for me to finish writing this piece and post it.

#the-whumpers-soiree #the-whumpers'-soirée #the whumpers soiree #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whumper #pet whumpee #pet whump #tw slavery #slave whumpee #slave whump #bbu whump #bbu #box boy universe #whumper to caretaker #whumper turned caretaker #fear of death #power abuse #power imbalance #potential recovery #tw abuse #drugging #ask #answered ask #whump writing #whump community

[quietly-by-myself]

The Dark Side of the Sun: Chapter 8

This is the second to last chapter of the story. After Chapter 9, the finale, I'll have an AMA about the story! It's been great to have you all along for the ride.

However, this is Chapter 8, not Chapter 9. Onto the story!

CW: whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, nonhuman caretaker, nonhuman whumper, human whumpee, threats of war, civilian casualties, graphic descriptions of gorey death, broken whumpee, description of past whump/torture, discussion of mental health/breaking

---

Sometimes, what Hakon saw in his readings was incomprehensible in the moment. Most of the time, Hakon found himself missing some important context that he didn’t understand until he thought through similar jobs. Rarely, though, what he saw shook him so deeply that it took him time to be able to comprehend it.

It seemed with Valentina that he was having more and more trouble comprehending her actions. He understood all the context. He’d kept surveillance on her for long enough to understand her modus operandi. However, the why of what she did was completely impossible to understand.

Dare he say that he might’ve found someone more heartless, more ruthless than Cassius himself?

The thought of having the woman invade his home and tear it all apart was absolutely terrifying. He saw what she did to the areas she targeted. There was nothing left in her wake. She brutalized the dead bodies and hung heads from spears at the village gates.

Hakon would die. King Myndill would die. Alfie would die. Worst of all, he knew King Myndill to be too prideful to give up the fight now that he knew about it.

“Alfie?”

They came from the other room.

“Hakon? What can I help you with?”

He put down the bones he was reading off of and pulled his blindfold off. “Can you get me some cloths and a glass of tea?”

Alfie raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Hakon nodded, looking at them with his sharp golden eyes.

They shrugged. They knew better than to question when the Seer wanted to stop with his readings.

They were quick to return with damp cloths. Hakon quietly wiped the ink off of his body, closing the link to the golden threads. It was something of a relief - sometimes, they were a rather overwhelming phenomenon. Too much information, too much going on to comprehend fully. It was perhaps best compared to trying to keep track of a thousand conversations - impossible, even for the sharpest minds.

Once Hakon was finished removing the ritual marks, Alfie put a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

Hakon gave them a startled look. “What do you mean?”

They looked at Hakon gently, kindly. “I can see on your face that something’s wrong.”

It was true. With Alfie, Hakon was an open book. He just wasn’t used to showing his emotions so obviously. Maybe his readings lowered his inhibitions. Or maybe it was just a comfort around them that he found so foreign he couldn’t recognize that he was actually comfortable around someone.

“We can’t fight Valentina,” he blurted.

Alfie looked at him curiously. “What makes you say that?”

With a panicked edge to his voice, Hakon continued at their prompting. “She’s awful. She kills everything in sight. Even if we beat her successfully, we’ll lose too many people. His Majesty won’t back down, though. I know he wouldn’t.”

Alfie was quiet for a long time. “So, this alchemist is so powerful that we don’t even really stand a chance?”

Hakon shook his head. “Our kingdom is too new. Our forces are not trained enough. Cohesive enough. Our territory is easy to defend, yes, but how many are we willing to lose over one prisoner?”

They watched him cautiously, motioning for him to continue.

“I think His Majesty would forgive me if I did what was best for his kingdom, even if it isn’t the action he would take.”

The images of bloodied battlefields flashed in his head. He couldn’t allow the people he loved to be hurt in such a way. He’d have failed at his job as Seer - to make important decisions with knowledge of the future, knowledge that only he had.

“I-” Hakon forced himself to take a deep breath and try to stay in the moment. “I hate what I have to do. I couldn’t even describe what I saw to you. Just bloodied, decapitated, bodies with limbs torn off.”

“You know I’m always here by your side. My role is to support your decisions and to help you do what is right by this kingdom, not His Majesty. What is it that you want to do with your knowledge, Hakon?”

Alfie quietly pulled Hakon into a hug, before grabbing one of their signature glasses of chamomile tea and handing it to him.

“I have to let Cassius go. I need him to go to the alchemists and tell them not to attack. They’ll listen to him. I’ve seen how they respect him.”

Alfie paused. “Are you sure?” Their voice was a whisper.

“Completely. I hate the idea too, but it’s the only way to save this place. My home.”

Alfie swallowed, then nodded. “I understand. Just let me know what I should do.”

Hakon nodded, taking a deep sip of the tea. Tears were forming in his eyes as he looked down at it. “Why me?”

“This world works in mysterious ways. I don’t like it either.”

---

Hakon was quick to dismiss the guards from where Cassius was being held. He needed total privacy for what he was about to do.

Cassius looked at him blankly when he arrived without food and made no comment. The absence of any of his snarky remarks unsettled Hakon beyond measure. Cassius’ jaw hung open a little limply and he could see the remnants of tears on his face.

Suddenly, the idea that Cassius might not be able to run with him struck him. He was in horrible condition. What am I getting myself into?

“Cassius?”

“Yes?”

It was the most polite response he’d ever gotten from Cassius.

“I- we need to talk.”

Cassius gave him a familiar, curious look. “About what?” 

He had a sad smile on his lips.

“They’re sending Valentina after you.”

Hakon didn’t know why he decided to be honest with Cassius. He had no reason to. All the cards were in his hand and to tell Cassius was to give him leverage in the negotiation. However, that human part of him that saw Cassius and hurt wanted to speak to him as an equal about matters of life and death.

“She’s going to rip this fucking place apart.”

“I know. I saw it all.” Hakon rubbed his hands together.

“What? You’ve come to ask me if I can call her off from here?”

“No.” Hakon swallowed. “I have two choices right now: either have you escape with His Majesty and arrange a counter defense against her, knowing that there’s going to be a lot of casualties or to let you go and have you call off the offensive.”

A small look of curiosity flashed across Cassius’ face before it quickly disappeared under the immensity of his despair.

“Why should I help the Tainted creatures that tortured me?”

That was exactly the question that Hakon had anticipated and the one he found he couldn’t answer easily.

“I’ll be honest. My reasons for releasing you are purely selfish. I want to preserve what’s mine, not help you.” Hakon took a deep breath. “However, I also know you want to make it out of here alive. So, we both win. You accept a curse from one of us to ensure that you follow through on your promise and I’ll let you go. I’ll make sure you’re left alone for the rest of your days.”

Cassius seemed to seriously consider it. “Ma- King Myndill would let you do that?”

“He doesn’t have to know, does he? Anyway, if you tell him, he’d never believe you over me.”

Cassius nodded without argument. Again, Hakon was shocked.

“I don’t want to owe Valentina anything.” Cassius began to cough, but the bruising on his ribs was obvious. Hakon hoped that his broken ribs weren’t too bad.

“Then be ready.” Hakon swallowed. He didn’t want to thank Cassius. Instead, he left quickly, calling the guards back and heading to speak to Alfie.

---

Cassius couldn’t believe that he was getting out. He wouldn’t have to live through the torture soon. It seemed almost too good to be true. However, if he knew one thing about Hakon, he knew he wasn’t a liar.

What a surprise it had been to see him here, healed and doing well for himself. The feeling it left Cassius with was almost indescribable. It was an odd mix between nostalgia, sadness, and victory. He’d succeeded. Seeing Hakon reminded him of a time when others didn’t look down on him so much. However, his life had mostly remained stagnant, while Hakon’s had exploded.

Cassius broke out in another coughing spell. Even if there were no clocks and no windows, he sensed it was time for a meal soon.

Just as the thought passed his mind, Hakon came down the stairs. Hakon, right. Not Elijah.

The two were becoming separate entities in his mind. Hakon was strong. Hakon might’ve been his equal in a different life. Elijah was pathetic. Elijah would always be inferior.

Hakon slid him his meal.

He picked at it a bit. There were questions on his mind that he couldn’t leave the Tainted’s Kingdom without having an answer to, not after everything he’d been through with Hakon.

“Hakon, can I ask you something?”

For some reason, as he set his tray down, Cassius found himself somewhat afraid of the answers of what he was going to ask.

“Yes.”

Hakon was curt.

“When I broke you, how was it?”

Hakon looked offended. Cassius hated the way he shrunk away from the angered face of the Tainted in front of him.

“Why the fuck do you want to know that?”

Cassius, with as genuine a voice as he could manage, answered simply. “For me, it happened within a moment. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Suddenly, the price of holding on was too much. I had to give in.”

Hakon, with thinly veiled hostility, was quiet for a long time. “It was the same for me. Suddenly, I couldn’t resist you anymore. I couldn’t stand up to you. Everything was too awful because of you.”

The emphasis of his role in Hakon’s torture wasn’t lost on him. “I’m sorry that my experiment failed.”

“What? You’re only sorry that your experiment failed? Not for the hell I went through?”

Cassius didn’t doubt that answer for a moment. He went quiet while trying to think of a way to change the subject before he was forced to answer with something Hakon wouldn’t like.

“We all fight at the beginning. We all want out. Eventually, we all realize it’s never going to fucking happen. We realize that the pain is forever. We realize that we’re going to die there, huh? You’re lucky I’ve spared you. You’re so lucky that I was kind to you. I have more strength than you ever will, Cassius. I have thousands of years ahead of me. You’ll be a speck in my history, a bad one at that.”

Cassius flinched a bit at the final bit of Hakon’s rant. However, he didn’t want to respond to that.

He stayed quiet as Hakon continued on his rant, allowing Hakon to dig into him for the first time. He did not have the mental strength to stop him. In some sick way, it made him feel better to know that Hakon was no saint. He was flawed, just like Cassius. His forgiveness was imperfect. He still harbored his anger and his flare.

I always failed to extinguish it, huh?

Yes, Cassius had failed in every way with Hakon.

Somehow, that comforted his broken soul. He’d been right in what he did, but at least when he failed, it wasn’t the end for someone. At least, Hakon had been able to make a life for himself.

---

Tags: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whumpwillow, @annablogsposts, @no-terms-and-conditions-apply

#the dark side of the sun #nonhuman whumper #nonhuman caretaker #whump #whump writing #cw are above #whumpblr #hakon #cassius #captivity #king myndill #whumper turned whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker

[whimperwoods]

Not sure if this is a new series or just a thing I had to get out of my head? Pretty sure there will be at least 2 parts though. Fantasy/D&D setting. Orc caretaker. Half-elf whumpee. Human whumpers, but not for long.

tw: slavery/captivity, tw: fantasy racism (implied), tw: manhandling, tw: muzzles, tw: past abuse, tw: past rape implied (vaguely)

Chief Gozukk’s orc tribe doesn’t like humans gallivanting through their land, but one group offers a deal he can’t turn down . . . once she looks him in the eye.

*****

Chief Gozukk narrowed his eyes at the jostling, sunburned humans in the caravan whose leader was walking up to him, all too-wide smile and white teeth under a dusty wide-brimmed hat. Once he was about 6 feet away, the man whipped the hat off and bowed, sweaty hair falling in his face so that he had to flip it out of the way when he straightened up again, before he could replace his hat.

“Speak,” Gozukk ordered in Common, trying to keep his voice rough and authoritative. He hated dealing with humans. They were unpredictable, too useful sometimes to avoid outright the rest of the time. It was best to look stern and in charge.

“I apologize, Chief. We got some bad intel, said nobody was here. I’m sure you understand. We just want passage through your lands, and we’re happy to give you a cut of our profits on the way back through for the pleasure. We’re expecting a good trip. How’s 5% sound for a road tax?”

He heard Azzor breathe out through his nose from his position behind Gozukk’s chair, not loud enough for the human to hear, but loud enough to communicate his skepticism perfectly well. Gozukk twitched his hand toward the javelin leaning against the intricately-carved arm of his chair, watching the human’s face as the human watched his hand.

The smile widened instead of faltering. “Alright, I hear you! Promises of future profits are unpredictable! I understand that. We’re a little light on gold right now, but I’m sure we can come to some kind of an agreement. 6% and some gifts, and we promise to leave our campsites better than we found them.” The man winked, as though he meant to be charming.

Gozukk kept his face still and pounded a fist against the arm of his chair. “Azzor,” he ordered, still in common, turning to look over his shoulder at his oldest friend and current general, “Order the scouts to keep records of any traces these invaders have already left. I wish a full report ready should these men return.”

He turned back to the man, keeping his face stern and unmoved. “We will not accept our own land as your bargaining chip. Make a better offer.”

He could hear Azzor shifting behind him. Good. He was backing the play, choosing a more intimidating stance.

This time, the man’s smile faded. He turned to whistle to the man closest behind him. “Bring me the small chest. The one with the gems. You know which one. And whatever else you think’s tradeable. And be quick with it.”

The man nodded, wide eyed, but then tugged at his leader’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. The leader grunted, but then nodded. “One less mouth’s better. Bring her.”

The leader’s smile was wide again when he turned back to Gozukk, wide and false, and Gozukk’s hand itched to reach for his javelin, for all that he knew he shouldn’t start fights that didn’t need starting. He wasn’t a young fighter anymore, on his own. He couldn’t stand up and punch the smile, just for being smug.

Instead, he waited. The small chest came first, opened dramatically in front of him to reveal low-value gemstones of no great quality, the agates and onyx polished brightly but of no great worth, in particular. He shifted in his seat as he listened to the man’s patter, acknowledging them for what they were but spinning them as a down payment on what would surely be better coming back through the other way.

He didn’t like this man. He didn’t like his caravan, or his patter, or his smile, or the way he seemed so sure he could hoodwink a camp of orcs into letting him past. There had to be a way to refuse him passage without sparking a fight, didn’t there? Perhaps if he sent him along another specific route, or offered scouts to help the caravan navigate its way out of his territory.

But then - motion at the back of one of the middle wagons drew his eye. The man who had been sent back to the caravan had pulled a humanoid figure out of the wagon and was pulling it forward by a rope that bound its wrists and extended out into a lead.

As they drew nearer, it became clear that the figure was a woman, thin and dirty, clothed in a ragged dress and with no shoes to protect her feet from the hot sand. She hurried to keep up with the man leading her, but he seemed not to care that she was cooperating, pulling harshly at the rope in sharp tugs that almost pulled her off balance multiple times.

When they got close, the man pulled even more sharply on the rope, tugging her toward him and gripping her by the upper arm. He dragged her forward that way, until they both stood beside the leader. She had bruises around her eyes, new and dark on the left and old and yellowing on the right, and the bottom half of her face was covered with what looked like a leather muzzle.

She kept her eyes down on the ground, even as the man holding her arm nearly lifted her off her feet by it.

“Now I know she doesn’t look much better than the gems,” the leader said smoothly, “But she’s obedient, aren’t you sweetheart?” He gripped her chin and squeezed it, and the girl looked briefly up at Gozukk, her wide, terrified eyes meeting his for just a moment before they lowered back to the sand in front of her. She nodded frantically the moment the man let go of her face, and he laughed and patted her cheek. “And she’s part elf, so she’ll live a good long time. Servant for life sort of thing. Show him the ears.”

The man holding the woman’s arm lifted his other hand to pull her greasy hair back away from a pointed ear.

Gozukk stifled a growl and shifted slightly in his seat, his stomach muscles tensing as he fought to keep his composure. “Let me see her,” he said, “Closer.”

The leader gave a curt nod and the woman was dragged forward and then shoved, half thrown so that she landed hard at his feet, barely catching herself on her bound hands.

She moved quickly, pushing herself up to kneel at his feet instead, her eyes carefully trained on the rug beneath her. Gozukk could see spots of dried blood speckling the back of her thin dress, and patches of scalp where her hair had been pulled roughly. Her shoulders rose and fell quickly, frightened little panting breaths coming from her flared nostrils, too shallow to fill her belly like they should.

Azzor shifted again behind him, moving his feet just barely in the sand, getting into a fighting stance in case Gozukk called him to it.

Ten years ago, he thought, he would already have done it. But there were more than warriors here to worry about, and he had to keep his head.

“When you return the other direction, you will send a message to us,” he told the leader of the humans, “We will send a message bird with you. Once you have sent it to us, you will camp at the edge of our territory and wait for the scouting party to collect your 6% and accompany you through our land. You would be unwise to be caught here again without our permission.”

“It’s a deal,” the human leader said jovially, evidently content. His face slid into a smirk. “Enjoy her. I know we have.”

Gozukk’s stomach muscles tightened again. He could not fight this man here. Not right now. Later, away from the main camp, perhaps, if he could find a reason. But not right now. He breathed through his nose, more slowly than the woman at his feet, keeping himself calm.

The human holding the chest of gems (and, he suspected, a handful of polished rocks) set it carefully on the edge of the rug in front of Gozukk’s seat, treating it with more care than it deserved.

Then the leader whistled again, turning to his men and waving a hand in the air in a circle. “Pack it up, boys. We’re losing daylight.”

Gozukk turned and nodded to Azzor, who nodded back. Azzor barked orders in orcish, telling the scouts to prepare to accompany the humans out of their territory and the sentries to stay on guard until the scouts returned, and the watching warriors hurried into motion, too.

Gozukk needed to hold his position until the humans were gone, across the sand. He needed to stay here, looking regal, in case any of them turned back to look.

The girl at his feet was shaking visibly, still kneeling, still averting her eyes, still breathing too fast and too shallow, and he worried she might breathe so quickly she passed out.

Finally, the carts and wagons were far enough away, and he allowed himself to relax, sighing deeply and letting his head fall backward, his eyes closing as he let the sun light up his eyelids.

Then he lifted his head again and slid forward out of the chair, kneeling beside the prisoner.

She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes wide and terrified, and her nostrils flared again as she forced her head back down, her neck bending farther as if under a great weight.

“It’s alright,” he said in common, speaking softly this time, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “You’re safe now. Just raise your head so I can take that off.”

Azzor was still behind him. “Goz-” he started, his voice also relaxing now that there were no humans around to require a show of force.

Gozukk laughed. “Right. Can you do magic?”

The girl shook her head frantically.

“Are you telling me the truth?”

She nodded, her eyes still wide.

“Good enough for you, Az?” he asked, looking up at his friend, advisor, and general.

Azzor rolled his eyes, which was answer enough.

Gozukk reached slowly toward the woman, who trembled harder as his claws got closer. Then he unclasped the muzzle from behind her head and eased it away from her face.

She took in great, gulping breaths as soon as her mouth was freed, her body almost convulsing around them, and as her body heaved with fear, the breaths turned to sobs.

He rubbed gently at the back of her neck, ignoring the sobs, for now, as if they were still just breaths, after all.

“There,” he said, voice still gentle, “That’s better. Just breathe. You’re alright.”

She wasn’t, and he knew it.

“You’re going to be alright.”

He turned to look around at the tribe members still watching the caravan disappear into the far distance. He’d made worse deals before, but at least this time, he was confident his people would understand.

The half-elf woman sagged forward, pressing her forehead to the rug, her back still heaving with hard, frightened breaths and desperate, scattered sobs. He kept rubbing gently at the back of her neck and glanced up at the horizon, trying to decide what grounds he could look for to turn on the caravan when they returned, if they didn’t try to cheat his people on their own and make it easy for him.

#whump #d&d whump #fantasy whump #hurt/comfort #slavery whump #(for now) #ttw slavery #tw captivity #tw manhandling #tw muzzle

[a-whump-dis-aster]

Masterlist and FAQ

(Masterlist is broken.... bolded links work, and I'm trying to get it back up. Sorry!)

(If you AREN'T a whump blog, and see me spam-liking your post: Apologies. It's my main.)

Hi! I’m Aster! (she/her, they/them, he/him or fae/faer)!  This is a blog where I post all my whumpy fanfics and reblog my favorite tropes and prompts! This is a non-NSFW blog, and used mostly for prompts, writing and blurbs and the occasional gif set.

I'm really trying to get more into original storylines, so if I'm posting a lot of angry emojis or crying on main, that's probably why.

I used to have a different blog under feelingwhumpy, but Tumblr decided to be stupid when I was trying to delete a different side blog and instead got rid of everything... but at the bottom, I'm gonna tag a bunch of the whumpers that I used to follow! I can't remember all the usernames, but you guys do so much awesome work!

My dream order at a hurt/comfort!fic restaurant would be a nice juicy Past Trauma, seasoned with a bit of Disassociation and Conditioning. Perhaps a side of Amnesia?  And a tall glass of Touch Starvation to wash it all down.

I don’t really have many squicks, but there’s a few things I don’t really enjoy writing:

Bodily Fluids (other than blood and saliva) 

NSFW or non-con/rape

Resurrection/came back wrong.  Not really a squick, but I just don’t really find the trope interesting.

Major character death - I literally can’t handle this much angst

PLEASE, NOTHING WITH EYES.  ITS LITERALLY MY IRL PHOBIA.  I CAN'T THINK ABOUT IT WITHOUT PHYSICALLY CRINGING. 

Scarpia Ultimatum

There’s a few things I might write for, depending on circumstance.  You’re welcome to send in asks about these, but please don’t be offended if I turn them down (even if they aren’t on the list):

Amputation (and phantom pains)

Impaling

Body mods (e.g. cybernetic limb replacement, purposely scarring)

If you decide to follow me, and have things you DON'T want to see, please block # (subject) cw . I chose CW over TW and CW because I'm more likely going to remember one tag versus two.

Eg: #knife cw or #shock collar cw

If you notice something that bothers you that isn't specifically tagged, send me an ask and I'll tag it (and any future posts involving it). I read that Tumblr sometimes only tracks the first word or two for tag blocks, but it might be wise to block both because I have scatterbrain and the tags will be hit or miss with 'CW Knife' or "Knife CW'.

As I add more Fics and whatnot, links to them will be below!

Prompts and Ideas

Wow, look! It's my entire blog theme in one GIF!

Whumpy Song Lyrics (This list is ongoing so lemme know if you have any ideas!)

Self-Punishment, Now With Knives!

Post-Rescue Microchip Whump

Freedom's Only Temporary

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Whumpees

Caretaker + Whumpee = Snuggle Buddies

Giddy On Drugs

"Oh, you have to FEED them?"

Flipping The Switch

Giddy on Drugs

"You're... allowed to need things." "Really? Okay, cool. BTW, expect no alone time for the next 3 to 5 business months."

Comforting Items (Also an ongoing list; send in ideas!)

(Too) Quick To Trust

Ready To Attack?

Gone Too Far

Post-Rescue Drugging

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Card

Trust Issues

It's All My Fault

Tranquilizer Dart

Conditioning

Locked in a Cage

Blood from the Mouth

Memory Loss

Neglect or Abandonment

Verbal Abuse

Power Suppression

Pinned to the Wall

Not Used to Freedom

Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Defeated and Trophied

Captive Push

Forced to Beg ✓

Fevers

Cry Into Chest

Traumatic Touch Aversion

Grabbed by the Chin

Nervous Breakdown

CPR

Gunshot Wound

Blindfolded

Fainting

---

List of awesome whumpers! Go follow them right now!

@aceofwhump @whumpster-dumpster @whumpthencomfort @whumpinbloom @whumphoarder @sorryforpartywhumping @gimmethatsweetwhump @softwhump @allthewhumpygoodness @the-wandering-whumper @justwhumpythings

#marvel whump #new whumper #new whump blog #whump #the og

[whumpity--whump--whump]

Psychology in Whump: Conditioning

OKAY, some of y’all know nothing about conditioning, so I’m gonna clear some things up. Don’t feel bad, these are common mistakes. I’m basing this off of everything I learned in AP Psychology, so I know what I’m talking about more than the average person. If you ever have a psychology question, you can always send an ask and I’ll be more than glad to answer.

Classical Conditioning

Ever heard of Pavlov? This is what he did. Essentially, this is call and response.

There are four things: Unconditioned Response, Conditioned Response, Unconditioned Stimuli, and Conditioned Stimuli.

Let’s use Pavlov to explain this. Pavlov was a doctor doing experiments on dog salivation and accidentally made a huge psychological discovery. Essentially, he would ring a bell every time he was bringing food to the dogs. Over time, the dogs would salivate when the bell rang, even if there was no food.

The Unconditioned Stimuli was the food, and the Unconditioned Response was salivation in the presence of food. Dogs do not have to be trained to salivate when there’s food. That is an innate biological response.

The Conditioned Stimuli was the bell, and the Conditioned Response was salivation upon hearing the bell. Dogs don’t normally salivate when they hear bells; Pavlov’s dogs were conditioned to.

Classical conditioning works when Unconditioned are combined with the Conditioned. Over time, Pavlov’s dogs connected bells with food. They knew a bell ringing would mean food. So their salivary glands would jump the gun on salivation, and they’d salivate no matter what.

Classical conditioning can easily happen by accident, as was the case with Pavlov. It can also be done on purpose. To give a whumpy example, perhaps a whumper classically conditions the whumpee. The Unconditioned Stimuli could be whipping. The Unconditioned Response could be fear, panic, crying, begging, something along those lines. The Conditioned Stimuli could be AC/DC music that the whumper had on speakers while whipping the whumpee. The Conditioned Response could be being scared/panicking/crying/begging/etc when the whumpee hears AC/DC. Perhaps it was accidental on the whumper’s part, or perhaps it was intentional. Either way, upon learning this, I’m sure the whumper would enjoy turning on “Thunderstruck” and listen to the whumpee beg even though the whip is nowhere in sight. 

Classical conditioning can be broken, as can any form of conditioning. That means a whumper has to alternate between whipping and not whipping when AC/DC is on. If they go to long without the whip, it can dampen the conditioning. With some exposure therapy, a caretaker can also help the whumpee listen to AC/DC again. If a caretaker exposes the whumpee to AC/DC multiple times and no pain is involved, then eventually the conditioning will dampen or be gone entirely.

Depending on multiple factors, some things can be deconditioned faster than others. Pain is a big factor. I’ve classically conditioned myself to dilate my eyes when I hear my ringtone once for my psych class, but it lasted fifteen minutes. Because it wasn’t life threatening and no pain was involved. Your brain will latch onto things related to pain. So anything the whumper does will have a long lasting effect on the whumpee. Time is also huge. If the whumper has only whipped with AC/DC a couple of times before, the whumpee will be conditioned, but it will break fast. So a caretaker wants to rescue the whumpee fast to make deconditioning as fast as possible.

Actually, for another prompt, Pavlov’s experiment could work for a pet whumpee. Then there’s even more comparisons between them and a dog.

Classical conditioning, generally, is harmless, or even helpful. At most, generally, irrational (for example, dog bites you for once and now you’re scared of dogs). But usually it’s little things that don’t matter all that much (flinching when someone pretends to throw something at you) or helpful (fear of strangers). But give a whumper classical conditioning, and your whumpee is in for a bad time.

Operant Conditioning

“Michelle, I already know about positive and negative reinforcement!”

“Great, can you tell me about it?”

“Positive reinforcement is giving a reward for a behavior, and negative reinforcement is a punishment.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THAT IS NOT WHAT NEGATIVE REINFORCEMENT IS.

Repeat it after me.

Negative reinforcement is not punishment!

There are in fact four things involved in operant conditioning: positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement, positive punishment, and negative punishment.

Reinforcement is meant to increase a behavior.

Punishment is meant to decrease a behavior. 

Positive means it is adding something.

Negative means it is taking away something.

Positive Reinforcement is when you give something to increase behavior. This is often called the “carrot.” Letting a whumpee sleep with a blanket when they are good is positive reinforcement. The whumpee is more likely to be good for the whumper and not defiant because they were rewarded for their compliance. Or it could be caretaker giving praise to the whumpee when they are recovering and don’t call caretaker “Master.” The whumpee is more likely to call the caretaker by their name than “Master” now that they’ve been praised for it. 

Negative Reinforcement is when you take something away to increase a behavior. This could be a caretaker giving whumpee ibuprofen for a headache. Taking ibuprofen takes away the pain, which makes the whumpee more likely to take ibuprofen for headaches in the future. A whumper taking away the whumpee’s mobility via restraints will make the whumpee stay where they need to be. In the future the whumpee will stay even when not restrained.

Positive Punishment is giving something to decrease behavior. This is the “stick.” Your average whump is positive punishment. Whumper beats whumpee for not being good? Positive punishment. A caretaker can also practice this theoretically (I’ll talk about healthy conditioning later). Caretaker could give whumpee a stern talking to for acting out. They’d have to be extremely careful though, and I’ll talk about that in a moment. 

Negative Punishment is taking away something to decrease behavior. The whumper can take away the whumpee’s shoes to decrease their behavior of trying to go outside. The caretaker can take away the whumpee’s collar to decrease any behaviors associated with being a pet. 

Some of these can be kind of two at once. For example, the caretaker taking away the whumpee’s collar so they don’t act like a pet is negative punishment. If you rephrase it to say the collar is taken so the whumpee acts more like a person, that is now negative reinforcement. The action of removing the whumpee’s collar is both negative punishment and negative reinforcement, it just depends on how you look at it.

Conditioning isn’t inherently bad. Everything in existence has the potential to be good and the potential to be evil, it just depends on how we use it. Conditioning can be very good, very bad, or not affect anything. It all depends on how it is being used. There is healthy conditioning that is very good. Through too much or too little operant conditioning, you can have serious psychological problems. For any of you guys that have kids you take care of in your life, a good mix of these four is healthy when done right! Generally you should do more reinforcement than punishment when possible because it helps with motivation (which is a long rabbit hole we won’t go down today), but punishment isn’t necessarily bad. I’ve given both good and bad examples of all four types of operant conditioning. Whether it’s good or bad depends on the person.

I can go into greater detail on all four for both the whumper and the caretaker, but I think most of it you’ll have down now. I’ll delve into positive punishment by the caretaker to demonstrate this specific problem the caretaker might run into. While this does include the whumper’s beatings and torture, positive punishment isn’t necessarily physical. With children, typically adding chores or lecturing is good. Not necessarily with a whumpee if you want the whumpee to recover (though, I suppose you could make the caretaker terrible at their job and accidently punish the whumpee in unhealthy ways for more whump). If a whumpee was a slave and forced to clean, the caretaker shouldn’t make cleaning a punishment. It will positively reinforce the behaviors the whumper wanted, which is not good. If the whumpee was “lectured” to (way more maliciously than a typical parent would), lecturing would be a terrible idea because it also would reinforce the whumper’s desired behaviors from the whumpee. The caretaker has to be extremely careful with all four methods. They have to be careful to not reinforce the whumper’s desired behaviors and punish the undesired ones. Which can be really hard if the whumpee hasn’t told the caretaker what happened (HINT HINT this could be some good whump HINT HINT). The caretaker can also do mini physical positive punishments, like in @deluxewhump ‘s Max and Pet series when Max hits Carlo with a rubber band. ONLY IF THE WHUMPEE FEELS THEY NEED SOME SORT OF PHYSICAL POSITIVE PUNISHMENT. If the whumpee doesn’t want anything to do with being hurt, do not do this, this is what the whumper would do. This only really works with small things like rubber bands or else it is too painful and that is especially problematic for all involved. Physical positive punishment done by the caretaker is not ideal, but can be helpful in the early stages of recovery with some whumpees.

As for deconditioning, studies have shown that if after every time a person does the behavior, they get the consequence, they decondition faster than if it’s every few times. Which might be good for the whumpee! Most whumpers I’ve seen are pretty consistent about always punishing or reinforcing the whumpee! Though, if you get a psychologist whumper...that can suck for the whumpee. I can go into more detail later on this since this kind of gets tricky. Look up operant conditioning schedules if you don’t want to ask.

Social Conditioning

I’m not going into a lot of detail because if I do I’m going to go into social psychology and that’s its own field and we don’t have time for that. 

Basically, we act like people around us. This dives into conformity and roles and whatnot. We’re all socially conditioned. This especially effects kids. They watch adults do things and imitate the adults. That’s why kids know you are supposed to hold your phone up to your ears and talk. This is why people don’t want kids watching rated R movies because studies have shown that when kids watch violence they are more likely to be violent, especially the younger they are, and no one wants a ridiculously violent five year old. I can name a famous experiment for this, Bandura’s bobo doll experiment, where kids watched adults beat up a bobo doll and then proceeded to do the same. 

This can be used in whump for whumpees raised in slavery because they’re socially conditioned to act like a slave. And it would be so hard to break that conditioning. If you have ever moved to a country with a vastly different culture you’d know how hard it is to break social conditioning.

Now That You Have That…

Go and write conditioning correctly. Seriously. Psych nerds hate hearing the “negative reinforcement is punishment” thing. Seriously, please don’t. And please reblog so people will see this so that more people in the whump community will learn this.

If you ever have questions concerning psychology, send me an ask, I’ll be more than glad to help! I love psychology! This can go for disorders, therapy, social psych, learning/conditioning, memory, motivation, health, development, etc. If I don’t know the answer, I can look it up, or give you good sources to look into.

For anyone interested, I recommend taking psychology classes. If you’re in high school I recommend AP Psychology, and I don’t know anything about college psych classes, but I’m sure there are good ones. It will help you in your day to day life and help you write whump. Plus it’s fascinating. 

#whump #whump help #psychology #conditioning #writing tips #operant conditioning #classical conditioning #social conditioning #seriously send me an ask if you have psych questions #i'd be more than happy to help #but y'all better do conditioning right now #didnt type all of this for nothing #seriously i will write more on psych #send me asks #i'll even tag you if you want to see these #just...please #and check out my whump stories if you want