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whump-queen · 1 month

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sabotage

a carewhumper who’s constantly engineering situations for whumpee to need them, to run to them crying, to fall to their knees, broken and shattered and so easy to convince that all they need is whumper.

- slashing their tire so they’ll have to call whumper for a ride

- paying dudes to go rob and beat them up so they’ll be bloody and broken and weak and whumper can happen to ‘stumble upon them’ since they were just in the neighborhood…

- sabotaging whumpee’s finances (stealing their rent checks, running up their credit cards) to get them kicked out of whatever meager housing they’ve managed to rent. make them destitute. desperate. and all whumper has to do is waltz in with open arms, maybe a warm coat, and an offer whumpee can’t afford to refuse.

whumpee just doesn’t know why these things keep happening to them. whumper doesn’t help of course; their every word implies it was all whumpee’s fault. that maybe if they weren’t so careless and reckless with these things, maybe they—

no, whumper should just take care of these things for whumpee from now on. that’s what’s best, since whumpee has clearly proven they aren’t responsible enough to manage money, or shopping, let alone a job or really any human responsibilities.

after all, whumpee’s just a broken thing, and only whumper can put them back together.

only whumper will let them break down. only whumper can make them safe. only whumper can hold them close, warm, and just let whumpee collapse into their arms and sob against their neck until they finally drift to sleep.

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elisabethrosewrites · 18 days

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"How much do you care for your Whumpee?" Whumper asked Caretaker in a nonchalant tone.

Caretaker glares viciously at him. "They don't mean anything to me." They tell the boldfaced lie with as much confidence as they can muster.

"Is that so?" Whumper asks, amused this time. "So if for example, I had Whumpee bound and gagged in the back of my car, that would mean nothing to you?"

"Nothing at all," Caretaker replies, the lie hurt but they had to protect Whumpee.

Whumper fixed Caretaker with a calculating stare. "Well then, I suppose I won't be needing them anymore." He lifted his phone to his ear. "Hear that Henchman? You can dispose of the brat now."

Ice rushed into Caretaker's lungs. All their bravado slipping away. "No!" They shouted.

"I thought they meant nothing to you?"

#whump #whump inspiration #whump prompt #protective caretaker #manipulative whumper #hostage situation

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unforgivenn · 5 days

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DIALOGUES FOR MANIPULATIVE WHUMPERS !!

Please tag me if you use any of these ❤️

"You know, I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're special to me."

"I can't stop thinking about you. You've completely captivated me."

"I love you in a way I've never loved anyone else. You're different."

"I love you so much, it hurts me to see you in pain. But it's for your own good."

"I only hurt you because I care. I want what's best for you, even if you can't see it right now."

"If you really loved me, you'd understand why I have to do this. It's because I love you that I have to push you."

"I love you, but you have to prove yourself to me. Show me that you're worthy of my love."

"If you do exactly as I say, I'll show you just how much I care for you."

"I love you more than anyone else ever could. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Those people who say I don't love you are just trying to tear us apart. They're jealous of what we have."

"You're just confused right now. Trust me, I know what's best for us. I love you too much to let you make a mistake."

"Oh, darling, I hate to see you suffer. But you know I only do this because I care about you."

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, but you left me with no choice. It's for your own good, believe me."

"If you really loved me, you'd understand why I had to do this."

"I need you to trust me. You're the only one I can count on in this world."

"Don't you see? We're meant to be together. That's why I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep us together."

"If you behave and do as I say, maybe I'll consider showing you some kindness."

"Prove to me that you're worthy of my love, and maybe I'll let up on you a little."

"You'll earn my affection when you start acting like you deserve it. Until then, you're on your own."

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #whumblr #my writing #whumper #whump prompt #my whump prompts #writing dialogues #whump dialogue #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #dialogue ideas #manipulative whumper #creepy whumper #twisted affection #manipulation

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the-three-whumpeteers · 2 months

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The whumper had managed to convince the whumpee that anyone who tried to rescue them was an enemy, that the whumper was merciful compared to everyone in the outside world. The whumper knew they had the whumpee convinced to never even try to leave, and they loved it.

#I spent a whole day digging out a hole in Minecraft it was great #whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whumpee #aramis stabs someone #whump prompts #manipulative whumper #whumper

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rizzoto-whump · 2 months

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Defiant and bilingual/trilingual Whumpee, they're screaming and cursing in words they think Whumper don't understand. 'Pendejo, Scheiße, merde, Сука, putang ina mo, anjing, cibai,' or anything they understand.

Whumper, confused, respond, 'What?'

Whumpee just laugh, 'No ❤️️'

Or perhaps, just perhaps, Whumper do understand and reply in the same language.

#whump #whump prompt #defiant whumpee #sadistic whumper #bilingual whump #torture whump #older whumpee #writing prompt #manipulative whumper #whump tropes

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hurtmyfavsthanks · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 2: Solitary Confinement

Content warning: implied self harm and finger gore (not shown, but implied to happen in the future), manipulative Whumper

It had started out easy enough.

“Cut a lock of your hair for me, any size will do, then throw the scissors out of your reach,” Whumper had ordered. And it was barely an order at that. There was no command behind their tone, none of the threat or menace Whumpee had expected when they’d walked in. They were almost polite. They almost seemed innocent, as if they weren’t the one holding Whumpee captive.

It was bizarre, and that itself should’ve been terrifying. But the apartment toothlessness had given Whumpee a surge of confidence they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

“I don’t-…N-no. I won’t…” their refusal was just as weak as Whumper’s command. Hesitant and flinching, waiting for the moment Whumper dropped the facade of politeness and lashed out. They clutched the scissors they’d been given, dull and harmless as they seemed, like a weapon.

The consequences they expected never came. Whumper didn’t hit them or lash out, didn’t so much as glare. Whumper only frowned, soft and disappointed, and nodded. “I perfectly understand. Take your time; I can wait until you’re ready.”

And then Whumper had left. And they didn’t come back.

Whumpee had been relieved at first. Anything was better than the looming presence of their captor, and silence simply meant they weren’t being hurt. They’d be safer alone. Why would they want to see Whumper?

They spent several days alone in their cell. Searching for a way out, praying someone would find them. They’d hoped that they could use the socors to their advantage, to pry the cain on their leg off, then somehow break the hinges of the door. But the scissors only clinked uselessly against the metal, too dull to do anything.

After days of solitude, Whumpe had nothing to show for it. They only had a dark, empty room and themselves.

Whumper still did not return. Food simply…appeared, slipped through a slot in the cell’s door while they were asleep. It was always the same meal; a loaf of bread and a single bottle of water. They’d never managed to catch Whumper doing it.

They were only able to remain terrified for so long. Without stimulation, boredom quickly eroded away at fear, pulling their attention away from a desperate need to escape to a desperate need for something to do. But there was nothing to do but wait, each second an eternity.

It was boredom, not threats or torture, that ultimately broke Whumpee’s defiance. Nearly a week into their captivity, Whumpee submitted to Whumper’s demands. Feelings of fear and relief rushed through their mind as they snipped a lock of hair, the scissors trembling in their grip.

Less than ten minutes later, the door opened. Whumper did not return to them with self satisfied smugness, nor anger at the extent of Whumpee’s resistance. Whumper simply smiled. An innocent, kind smile that almost made Whumpee forget why they’d been dreading seeing them again.

Whumper brought food. Actuall food, warm and filling like Whumpee hadn’t enjoyed since they’d been taken. Whumper served it with a smile, handing Whumpee a bowl nearly overflowing with thick broth, meat, and vegetables.

Whumper sat on the floor across from Whumpee, eating their food with polite, small mouthfuls. Whumpee could only resist temptation for a moment before doing the same.

The first bite was so delicious Whumpee nearly cried.

The pair didn’t sit in silence for long. Whumper spoke to them, pleasant, inane chatter that soundly nearly heavenly after days of silence. Whumpee found themselves clinging to every word. Not because they cared about the topic, not because they trusted Whumper. But because it was something different. It was something to do.

When the food was gone, Whumper began collecting their bowls, tucking them away in the now empty pot. They were preparing to leave, and that fact made Whumpee’s stomach drop out from underneath them.

Whumper handed them something before leaving. A dog collar.

“When you wish to see me again, click this around your neck.”

And then Whumpee turned without another word. Leaving Whumpee in the darkness, alone.

“Wait!” the words burst out of Whumpee before they could think. Whumper turned, already halfway through the door.

The collar burned in Whumpee’s hands. They hesitated.

Whumper frowned, shaking their head sadly. “Whenever you’re ready to see me again, you can. Remember that obedience brings reward. I’ll be waiting.”

And then they left. And they didn’t return until four days later when Whumpee clicked the collar shut around their throat.

It became a cycle after that. Whumper would make a demand, Whumpee would refuse, and then they’d both wait until solitude broke Whumpee’s resolve.

Whumper never threatened them. They only frowned when Whumpee refused, so sad and disappointed that Whumpee nearly felt guilt each time. But they were never forced to obey. It was only the fear of nothingness that convinced them to. It was only the offer of human company, a kind voice after weeks of silence, that compelled Whumpee to obey.

Soon, obedience felt like a small price to pay.

“Call me master.”

Six days. Whumper’s smile when they returned lit something warm in Whumpee’s chest.

“Remove all of your clothing and throw it out of your reach. Yes, all of it.”

Eight days. When Whumpee gave in, the replacement clothing Whumper offered was even warmer than what they’d thrown aside.

“Here, take this pill.”

Twelve hours. Whumper had brought them a blanket, warm and big enough for two. They snuggled together as Whumpee laid boneless in Whumper’s embrace, mind pleasantly numb. They never felt more content in their life.

Nearly twelve days ago, Whumper had given them another demand.

“Pick a finger of your choice, any will do,” Whumper had ordered, that kind smile still on their face as they handed Whumpee a butcher's knife.“And cut it off.”

Of course they’d refused. Of course they did, and they had every right to. It was an insane request. Utterly unthinkable. And yet Whumper’s frown still sent a jolt of guilt and terror through them.

They were shut into the darkness again. Each second felt like agony, knowing that relief was simply an action away. And the longer they sat, the heavier the knife felt in their hand.

They could feel themselves considering it, feel reason buckling under the threat of silence. For the briefest of moments, they considered tossing the knife out of reach, removing the temptation. But they couldn’t.

Whumpee turned the blade in their shaking hands, and they considered which finger they’d be willing to lose.

#whumpee #whumper #intimate whumper #manipulative whumper #conditioned whumpee #captivity whump #febuwhump #febuwhump day 2 #My stuff #whump #whumplr #febuwhump 2024

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whumpasaurus101 · 10 months

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“You understand I’m doing this for your own good, darling… don’t you?”

#whump #whump drabble #whumpee #whumper #whumper line #whump dialogue #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #intimate whumper #yandere whumper #creepy whumper #manipulation #manipulative whumper #lee wrote something :o

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chaotic-orphan · 4 months

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Intoxicating Fear (VIII)

A visitor comes a-knocking

Dedicated to @xxgalgurlxx for their lovely comments and to everyone who comments before or enjoys this series! It got number one on the poll on my blog so really, thank you for reading <3 and Happy New Year!

Read part one here

Continued from this part here

*~*~*~*~*

Kit woke to a knock at his door. He ignored it, thinking it was just Ambrose come to fucking gloat about Kit being under his thumb or threatening to get Kit to murder all his friends.

You know, the normal stuff.

Kit only realised his mistake when Ambrose barged into his room, slightly ruffled as if he were worried.

“Kit? You in there?”

Hope bloomed like rot in Kit’s stomach at the sound of Superhero’s voice.

Superhero’s voice.

At Kit’s front door.

Kit glanced at Ambrose briefly before jumping out of bed and sprinting towards his bedroom door. Ambrose caught him around the waist, but Kit shoved him away and kept running. Kit cleared his bedroom door, adrenaline fuelling his every movement. The shortest path to the front door was through his couch, so Kit vaulted over it as he ran towards the door where Superhero stood on the other side waiting, his saviour.

If he could reach the door before Ambrose, he could be free.

Kit’s hand wrapped around the door handle before Ambrose’s chilling power flooded Kit, and he collapsed suddenly like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. Whatever Kit had done, he did it right. Kit’s body grew heavier than an anvil, but he kept his hand on the door handle to his apartment as he fell to the floor. The last thing Kit saw before his brain turned off was Superhero’s concerned eyes blinking down at Kit as he pushed the front door open and if he could’ve, Kit would have smiled.

Instead, the darkness swallowed him whole and Kit drifted into Ambrose’s forced abyss of sleep for the first time without fear.

*~*~*~*~*

When Kit woke up again, he was in his bed, head pounding with the thunderous headache that always came after Ambrose's power forced him to sleep. Kit opened his eyes but quickly shut them again, groaning at how bright the light was in the room.

“Kit,” Superhero said. Kit’s heart hammered in his chest at the sound of his voice. He was still here; Ambrose didn’t stop him. “Hey, Kit it’s me. You’re okay.”

“Is he awake?” Ambrose.

Kit jerked up but groaned again, his entire upper body aching with the effort. He didn’t even get two inches up before collapsing onto the bed again. Kit couldn’t even form the words to speak, to warn Superhero about Ambrose.

Someone settled down next to Kit, the bed dipping with the weight. Kit risked opening his eyes only to meet Ambrose’s dark eyes and too red lips smiling down at him. The face that haunted his dreams. Ambrose was holding a glass of water in his hand and reached a cold hand under Kit’s head and tipped it up until Kit’s lips met the edge of the glass.

“You are not going to tell Superhero anything,” Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit’s mind. Kit tried to pull away, to protest and warn Superhero that Omen was right there in front of him, but his body wouldn’t respond. Refused to even twitch away. “You will tell Superhero that you’re sick, that we’re childhood friends, and I am here to help you recover.”

Kit felt the compulsion weigh him down, and tears sprung to his eyes at the helplessness of his situation.

Superhero was here.

Is here!

Right here. In Kit’s house, in his room!

Now was the only time that Kit could tell him, warn him, escape from Omen.

His one and only chance was sitting by Kit’s bedside, but he couldn’t do anything except exactly what Ambrose wanted him to do.

Ambrose pulled the glass away from Kit’s lips and put the back of his hand on Kit’s forehead. “Say thank you,” Ambrose told Kit, his command echoing in Kit’s head.

Kit tried… he really tried to say nothing. To swallow the words that were crawling up his throat, but he came out anyways, raspy and raw.

“Thank you,” Kit said with a slight cough.

Ambrose frowned. “You still have a slight temperature, Kit. Maybe we should take the blankets off.”

Kit protested with a meek, “no,” but Ambrose took them off anyways.

“It’s for your own good, Kit. I know you’re cold but if we don’t get your temperature down, you’ll be in trouble.”

Kit was trembling alright, but it wasn’t from some made up sickness that Ambrose said he had. Kit was trying to fight Ambrose’s compulsion with every fibre of his being, but he couldn’t do more than pull against it while Ambrose pushed him to obey.

“I’ll go get a wet cloth,” said Ambrose, standing from the bed and putting the glass on the table. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Kit watched Ambrose leave and waited until the door closed to turn his attention to Superhero. Superhero smiled warmly at Kit.

“Superhero…” Kit said, his voice crackling.

“I’m here, Kit. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“Doesn’t—” Kit heaved, rolling his heavy body over in the bed. “Doesn’t ma— matter. Ambrose—”

“Doesn’t matter?” Superhero asked, moving closer to Kit and pushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. “Of course it matters, Kit. I’m just sad that you didn’t tell me you were sick. I would have understood.”

“No,” Kit moaned, rolling out of the bed and onto the floor with a hard thud. “Ambrose—”

“I’m here,” Ambrose said from the doorway. Ambrose rushed in and handed the cloth to Superhero who placed it on Kit’s bedside locker. Ambrose went to Kit’s side, Superhero quickly joining them on the floor. “Kit, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What’s wrong?” Superhero asked, helping Ambrose get Kit back onto the bed.

“No,” Kit moaned. “No, no.”

“His fever has been coming and going the last two days. He starts speaking gibberish. Yesterday he said he was part fish,” Ambrose told Superhero with a laugh as he settled Kit in the middle of the bed. “There we go. Can you hand me the cloth?”

Superhero nodded, grabbing the cloth off the table and pressed it into Ambrose’s hand. Ambrose put it on Kit’s forehead, who groaned and protested and weakly grabbed Ambrose’s wrist trying to push him off.

Kit narrowed his eyes at Ambrose, chest heaving with the effort as he spat: “don’t— nngh… fucking touch me!”

Blue electricity sparked from Kit’s hand to Ambrose’s wrist. Ambrose quickly retracted his hand to his chest with a soft gasp. Superhero glanced at Kit then Ambrose with a half-smile.

“Does he keep doing that?” Superhero asked.

Ambrose narrowed his eyes at Kit slightly.

“No, that one’s new,” Ambrose said in a way that would seem perfectly innocent to an onlooker like Superhero, but Kit knew would mean a world of pain for him when Superhero left.

If Superhero left.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear Kit,” Ambrose cooed, voice hard and cold as it pierced Kit’s mind with a sudden pain. “Superhero will be leaving shortly and when he does, oh Kit, sweet Kit. I have been nice to you for far too long. I think you forget exactly what I can and will do to you.”

Kit glared at Ambrose through half lidded eyes, though he doubted it had the terrifying effect that Kit desired it to.

“No more using your powers, little Kit,” Ambrose ordered, the compulsion taking root almost instantly.

“I hate you,” Kit thought mutinously.

Ambrose smiled. “Oh, I know. Just be good for me now and I won’t punish you as hard as I intend to later.”

Kit reached for his power anyways and found a vacuous mass in his body that was locked down tight leaving Kit powerless and at Ambrose’s mercy again.

“Kit,” Superhero said. Kit blinked and glanced to his left to see Superhero’s sympathetic eyes. Kit had nearly forgotten he was here. Even if he was it didn’t matter. None of this mattered, not while Ambrose still has him under his thumb locked away from everything that made him… well, Kit.

Tears sprung to Kit’s eyes when he met Superhero’s, helpless and weak and impossible to hold back or control.

“Kit…” Superhero said softly, pressing a hand to Kit’s cheek and rubbing the first tear away as it fell. “It’s alright. I know everything must be confusing and wrong, but Ambrose and I we will stay by your side until you get better. Okay?”

Kit nodded weakly, more tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “Good,” said Superhero. “Now get some rest. Ambrose and I will be just outside if you need us.”

Superhero stood and slapped Ambrose on the back reassuringly.

“Yeah, what Superhero said,” Ambrose echoed. “Try and get some sleep. Call us if you need anything.”

Kit wanted to protest: to scream and cry and rush out of bed and punch Ambrose in the face and tell Superhero the truth, but his eyelids were already pulling down over his eyes growing heavy and Kit was far too weak to resist it. Soon the darkness settled over Kit's eyes and his limbs grew heavy, and he couldn't do anything but be whisked away.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) - @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whatwhumpcomments @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @princess-bubble-blossom @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations

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