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a-living-canvas · 23 days

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Blurry pictures

Whumper was…oddly kind, today. Whumpee overslept and they just…smiled at them. No hint of anger or annoyance. Maybe it's a reward for Whumpee after all the suffering they endured? Or maybe—

"Ah! S-sorry, Master! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Whumpee pleaded as they were cleaning up their mess. The coffee stained on Whumper's shirt usually would have resulted in Whumpee being whipped on their back now. But, Whumper said nothing. They just smiled again. "It's okay, dear. No need to worry about it."

Whumper said as they stood up and walked to their room to change to a new clothes. Whumpee immediately made another coffee for Whumper. They got a head pat and compliment from Whumper after that.

That's…weird.

Whumper never being this affectionate before. What have gotten into them?

"Pet?"

Whumpee hurriedly knelt down in front of Whumper who was sitting on the couch. "Yes…Master?"

Whumper caressed the side of Whumpee's face. "Let's clean those wounds now, shall we?" Whumpee's eyes lit up at the suggestion. How they were desperately needed for their wounds and scars to be covered by bandages.

"Y-yes! Please, Master…"

They both sat still in silence for a long moment, as if they were waiting for something. Whumpee raised their eyebrows in confusion. Whumper sighed before they chuckled dryly.

"Okay, let me grab the First aid kit…"

Whumper stood up from their seat and took the emergency kit before coming back to the couch. They gritted their teeth at the sight of Whumpee not on their knees anymore but on the couch instead.They sat beside Whumpee and started treating the wounds.

Whumper's hands and movement strangely gentle today, not rough like always. They seemed to take extra precaution to make sure Whumpee felt comfortable and good at the moment.

"Eyes on the ground, Whumpee." Whumper said lightly. They weren't mad or anything, just reminding Whumpee to shift their gaze somewhere else instead of looking at them. Whumpee bowed their head in embarrassment for being caught staring.

"S-sorry, Master…"

Whumper hummed. "It's okay, don't do that again." I'll make sure you don't do that again.

Whumpee nodded instantly. Whumper was being awfully calm and they were silently grateful for that. After finally treating Whumpee's wounds, Whumper pulled Whumpee to lay on the couch with them. Whumper was hugging Whumpee from behind, their chin resting on Whumpee's shoulder. Silence enveloping them as the only sound of Whumper's soft breath filling the room.

"T-thank you for treating my wounds, Master…" Whumpee said, a little uncomfortable being embraced so tightly by Whumper. Their back pressed against their chest.

Whumper kissed the side of Whumpee's head. "You are welcome, dear. Now, just rest with me. Okay? Let those little muscles loosen up."

Whumpee nodded. As they were cuddling for almost five minutes, Whumper's hand grazed lightly on Whumpee's wounds. Not enough to make them scream, but enough to make them feel the pain. Whumpee let out a soft whimper at the feeling of their wounds being caressed.

Their elbow suddenly jerked up to the back, hitting Whumper's ribs as Whumper accidentally pressed their fingers a little too hard on the wound.

"M-master, I'm sorry! I'm sorry…!"

Whumper grunted in pain slightly before forcing a chuckle, "No…no, it's okay." Whumper tightened their hold on Whumpee. "It's okay, dear…"

Whumpee nodded, accepting the gentle fingers that running through their hair.

Whumpee was cleaning the bedroom when they noticed Whumper in a doorway, leaning slightly as they looked at them. Whumper smiled,

"Stop cleaning. You need to have a shower, now."

Whumper said as they grabbed Whumpee's wrist and led them to the bathroom. Whumpee obediently followed from behind. It's been a long time since they last showered. The thought of the water running down their skin made them feel a little giddy.

As they entered the bathroom, Whumper filled the bathtub with water. "You know the procedure." Whumper said. Whumpee obeyed and hopped in the water. They sighed softly as the warm sensation travelled across their skin.

Whumper started working on their hair, massaging the scalp with the shampoo.They both sat in silence before Whumper suddenly asked a question,

"Whumpee, do you remember how you spilled the coffee on my shirt this morning? And how it's my favourite shirt and the coffee was burning my skin? Do you know it's my favourite shirt?"

Whumpee froze. "W-why do you ask me this, Master…?"

Whumper shrugged, "Hmm, just wondering if you knew that all along and just wanted to piss me off." Whumpee's hands started trembling. They trusted the soft fingers that were massaging their scalp to not hurt them at any moment after this.

"I….I didn't know, Master…"

"Really? You didn't know?"

"Y-yes, I didn't—"

Whumper grabbed the back of Whumpee's head and shoved them into the water. They let out a muffled scream through the water as their hands were gripping on the edge of the bathtub. The moment Whumper pulled them back to the surface, Whumpee was gasping for air.

They let out a yelp when Whumper grabbed a fistful of their hair and brought their face to them.

"That's for staining my shirt. Do you like it?"

"I-I…N-no—"

Whumper tightened their grasp. "I asked you, do you like it?"

Whumpee swallowed hard, they were on the verge of crying. "I-I like it, Master…" they sighed softly the moment Whumper let go of their hair and walked to the drawer. Whumpee sat still on the bathtub, their knees pressed close to their chest.

Whumper stood behind them again, this time with something in their hand. Whumpee thought it was a loofah at first but as soon as it made contact with Whumpee's skin, they flinched before a loud scream could be heard inside the bathroom.

Whumper wrapped their fingers around Whumpee's neck tightly from behind, preventing them from moving as they washed their back with a wire dish scrubber. The soap, however, couldn't spread as much as loofah would on their skin leaving Whumpee writhed in pain.

"M-master, stop! Please…please!"

"Do you remember how you waited for me to bring the First aid kit for you?" Whumper scrubbed harder. "Who do you think you are, fool?"

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"And when you casually sat on the couch without my permission, you should be on your damn knees all the time, you know that?"

The wire brush was ripping their skin violently. Blood was dripping everywhere, making the water in the bathtub turning red. Whumpee let out a much louder scream upon seeing it, they were in so much pain but they knew Whumper wouldn't stop anytime soon.

As a matter of fact, Whumper started scrubbing on their scalp. Rough and scratchy, until the wire brush was covered with blood instead of body wash. Whumpee's legs were kicking under the water as they became a sobbing mess.

"I put up with you, today! Forcing out a smile even though I felt annoyed with you. Do you know how hard it was? To put up with an unlovable and annoying fucking thing like you."

Whumper pulled Whumpee out of the bathtub with just holding their neck before they let them fell to the floor. Whumper washed Whumpee's bloody form with clean water. The open wounds stung badly on their skin.

"Did you learn your lesson, pet?" Whumper asked in a threatening voice.

"Y-yes, Master…"

"Now, thank me for this. Thank me for giving you a lesson, so you will stop making another mistake in the future."

Whumpee swallowed hard, they sniffled a little. They wanted to run, anywhere but here. They just couldn't stand it anymore. It was all too much for them. With a heavy heart, they said,

"T-thank you, Master…"

#whump community #whump writing #whumpblr #whumper

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veryspecificwhump · 1 month

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Whumpee whose love language is touch. As in, they need to hug or be hugged pretty often just to stay sane. Whumpee who's so touch-starved and desperate that they crawl up to Whumper after being torture and cling to their leg, begging for a hug, to hold hands, something

I can see this going four ways, with one 'good ending'. First there are the smug options. Creepy Intimate Whumper who'ss smug because they know Whumpee won't fight them about crossing boundaries anymore. Whumpee's just too desperate. Regular Whumper who's smug because Whumpee just majorly overstepped,and now they have an excuse to punish them. (not that they need one, but it's nice to have evidence that Whumpee "deserves it") Who remarks every time there's a pause in Whumpee's screaming that they brought this on themselves. Then there are the shocked options. Whumper who's shocked and angry that Whumpee would ask for such a thing, and punishes them. (spur-of-the-moment as opposed to planned) Who is genuinely disgusted by Whumpee's whining and is willing to torture Whumpee into never doing that again. Finally, Whumper who is shocked, confused, and the slightest bit sympathetic. They hadn't realized how much Whumpee needed (benevolent) physical contact. Maybe they're whumping for a job and their heart isn't in it, maybe they don't really understand how much they're actually hurting Whumpee, but they're just the tiniest bit guilty and they hold Whumpee's hand. (While muttering about how high-maintenance Whumpee is, of course) Maybe they turn into a Caretaker, or a Carewhumper at the least.

#whump #whumpee #whumper #creepy intimate whumper #carewhumper #whump idea #whump scenario #whumper turned caretaker #touchstarved whumpee #i'm not projecting you're projecting #whump writing

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painsandconfusion · 10 months

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Forced Comfort

Because who doesn't like a little bit of intimate whumper vibes?

[Prompt Masterpost]

Whumpee wrapped up in a blanket. The soft fabric hides the fact that their hands are still bound behind their back.

Gentle fingers brushing the hair from Whumpee’s face - carefully peeling it back through the sheen of sweat that’s left.

“Shhh…you’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you anymore..”

Kissing tears from the corners of Whumpee’s eyes.

Whumper keeping Whumpee sedated between sessions to 'help them cope'.

“Hold still- hold still or I’ll start again.”

Pinning a squirming Whumpee in an embrace. Grip tightening the more they struggle.

Whumpee being so tired. So so so very tired. They can’t help but lean into the gentle touch.

Whumper ignoring every shiver and twitch that accompanies the gentle pets they give their broken toy.

“Nnnnono-sst…d-on’ t ouchme-!”

Whumpee thrashing to the point of hyperventilation as Whumper wraps them up in blankets. The panic in their eyes ever so slowly fading as they realize they’re not being hurt anymore.

Whumpee desperately not trying to lean into it or accept the comfort. They don’t want it from them - don’t want to melt into the hands that ripped screams from them just a few minute before. But they need something. And Whumper knows it.

“Look at you. Pathetic little thing~”

Shoving Whumpee into a bath to trigger some kind of calming response. Whumpee just thinks they’re going to be drowned. …….maybe they will be. Just a little bit.

Whumper combing a hand through Whumpee’s hair - soft and rhythmic and sweet - as they carve into Whumpee.

“Shhh..just focus on me. Don’t look at it- just look at me. Listen to my voice. You’re doing so good, little one.”

Kisses peppering over Whumpee’s cheeks, lips, forehead, brows, jaw, etc as their face puckers up, trying to twist away.

A hug that looks gentle until you notice Whumper’s hand fisted in Whumpee’s hair. Keeping them exactly in place.

“Don’ don t t-ouch me- STOP-”

Drugging Whumpee to ‘help with the nerves’. Watching their panicked sobs slowly peter out into nothing as they stare miserably at their captor.

“Make the most of this. We start again in the morning.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

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

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

#torture #blood #forced comfort #intimate whumper #noncon touch #noncon kiss #drugging #prompt list #whump prompts #whump tropes #whump #conditioned whumpee #conditioning #good old stockholm syndrome sets in

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whumpsoda · 4 months

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vampire whumper puts whumpee in a strightjacket. But they're now so enthralled. That the straight jacket feel like a hug from them. so they fall asleep

WOHEO Masterlist

Loved this, dunno if I did it justice but it was definitely enjoyable to imagine!!

Anyways I need sleep

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw: hypnosis, restraints

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“Get-! Get offa’ me! Let me go!” Malak thrashed against the restraints, while desperately trying to shake off the vampire’s grip on his limbs.

Adrastus sighed disappointedly, shaking their head. “You are in no spot to make such demands after the stunt you just pulled.” They made the last of the adjustments to Malak’s newest punishment, a difficult task when he refused to calm himself. “So, so naughty. This is what happens when you try running from Master.”

Malak wrestled with the confines of his straight jacket prison, to no avail. Adrastus looked him over, a saddened expression plastered across their face. “Maybe you’ll finally learn from your mistakes. I can’t believe you would do such a thing.” They stroked a finger down their captive’s cheek, which he quickly rejected.

They sighed. “I’ve treated you so well, and all I’ve gotten in return is malice. All the love I’ve shown you, and this is what I get? Bad boy.” They wagged their finger in front of his face, which only flushed with a mix of anger, anxiety and embarrassment. “I do suppose it’ll all be over soon, though, once you’ve finally succumbed to your fate of being an eager little pet.”

“I’m not- I’m not your fucking pet! Let! Me! Go!” He wailed, still jerking about on the floor.

Adrastus just laughed, a hint of anger present themself. “How foolish you are,” they pushed to their feet with a grunt. “I’ll leave you here to think about what you’ve done. Bye bye, my dear.”

Malak followed them with darting eyes as they sauntered to the door, before exiting with a condescending grin. “Take this off me! Let-! I need-! Please!” The vampire either didn’t hear him, or simply didn’t care.

He slumped against the wall behind him with a huff, his sweat tainted hair sticking to the plaster. Malak took in ragged breaths, worn from his short lived escape attempt and countless shrieks.

A concoction of both fear and fury bubbled in his stomach, exiting through several more enraged hollers. “Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” Each repetition scratched at his throat, running it red and raw.

His vision started blurring with salty moisture as he shouted, his head swaying along. “F- f- fuck, fuck you!” Ignoring better judgement he continued his tirade, disorder scattering his thoughts.

With each following word, his tongue grew heavy, his voice like a slurry weighing it down. “Fuck, um, let… um, let me… um…” In an instant his eyes grew glassy, and his brain confusingly slow.

With his thoughts so distant, his voice died right in his throat. Why was he yelling again? Good boys weren’t supposed to yell, Master said so.

“Ah-!” Malak jumped as his muscles convulsed, sending the back of his head bashing into the wall behind him. Lurching in pain, his eyes grew wide and alive, his psyche returning in a rush of cognition. With a strung out groan, he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. A stray tear dribbled to his chin.

It was happening more and more often. Moments where he was pulled from reality, his perception twisted and molded by the second, succumbing to countless nights of patient conditioning. Forcing him to think and believe things the vampire wanted him too. As horrified as he was to admit it, Adrastus’ modifications were definitely working in their favor.

And it all happened so fast, his mind buckled so quickly it was difficult to stop. If Malak didn’t escape soon, he’d be like that forever.

Stupid and eager to please, confused with a cotton filled head. Obedient and docile, malleable and… compliant.

Dutiful… and trained.

Warm and loved and cherished.

He shook and writhed, pounding his head and restrained limbs upon the hardwood floor. “Get out of my head!” He shrieked, wriggling and flailing.

With each tug and fight on the fabric restraining him, it almost felt as if the jacket was growing tighter. Almost like arms wrapping him in a warm, tender hug.

A strange sound of guttural fear and anger escaped his lips at the thought, as he began rolling and fighting with less and less spirit. With each thrust of his limbs a silver chain holding his legs rattled and skid across the wood. Gathering all of the strength he had, Malak beat his flesh against the solid flooring, agony searing into his bones.

Again, again, again, until he physically couldn’t anymore. He collapsed in a pile of anguish, choking back livid sobs and fat tears.

Why him? What had he ever done to deserve being plucked from his home by a blood sucking monster? One so adamant on turning his brain to mush?

The snug embrace that enveloped him was his tired body’s only comfort in the moment, cuddling him genially. Malak nuzzled into it, clawing for the slightest of consolement.

He allowed the easement to take advantage of him, desperate for any sort of solace. Carefully, his breaths evened and relaxed with the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he swallowed his dismay. His lip quivered ever so slightly, while his eyelids grew heavy.

Would it… be so bad to give in?

The thought snuck in, but this time He didn’t shake it away.

Just this once? Everything hurt, he was so exhausted and weary, and the jacket was almost like a pillowy blanket. Why should he deny himself the cozyness and only make himself feel worse?

Just this once. He could fight back again tomorrow, couldn’t he?

Content with his sound reasoning, Malak allowed his lids to flutter to a close. After such an intense struggle the embrace was so heavenly to give in to, and he couldn’t help but smile, just a bit.

#asks :)#my writing #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #mind control whump #hypnosis whump #vampire whumper #hypnosis #conditioning whump #conditioned whumpee #Malak oc #Adrastus oc #we only have each other

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cold1dead1eyes · 11 months

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touch-starved

tw // self-harm

imagine a whumpee that had to hurt themself to get any physical affection from whumper.

caretaker doesn’t understand why they flinch away from their touch, or why they flee the room after any accidental brush. they come to the conclusion whumper must’ve done something to them that made them averse to all touch.

this is until caretaker finds them huddled up in a dark room one day, sobbing into their knees. they’re shaking all over. caretaker slips in and asks what’s wrong, and whumpee breaks apart.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” they gasp between cries. they’re rocking back and forth.

“it’s okay, what’s wrong?” caretaker asks, and whumpee starts crying harder.

“i— i need you t-to touch me.” they whisper, ashamed, and caretaker’s heart breaks. the poor thing is touch-starved. so horribly touch-starved that they’re rocking back and forth in agony, from desperation, from how much they need comfort. their body is shutting down after dealing with so much by themself.

“whumpee, that’s okay. come here.” caretaker tries to be reassuring. they spread their arms out in an invitation of a hug but it only makes whumpee sway and cry harder.

“no— no, no! no, i can’t.” they’re gasping for air now. caretaker is so confused.

“can’t what?” whumpee doesn’t look at them when they speak.

“i can’t pay for it. please. i tried, but i—i’m, i’m too scared. my hands shake, i c-can’t do it, i’m sorry. please. please, just…” whumpee unfurls their arms from their knees and caretaker’s breath catches. there’s light scratch marks all over their forearms.

and suddenly it makes sense. those strange scars on whumpee’s body weren’t from whumper. they were from whumpee. they were the price whumpee paid for safety and comfort. they were the price for whumper’s love.

#whump #whump writing #whump drabble #whump scenario #recovery whump #touch starved whumpee #caretaker #manipulation #injury #vince rambles

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bitchaknso · 4 months

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Rescued defiant whumpee being an actual headache to caretaker. They refuse to eat, to sleep, to be touched, to let caretaker bandage their injuries.

Caretaker is fucking tired, whumpee hasn't slept in days, and they look like a zombie as they enter the room and sit on the couch. They look at caretaker with bloodshot eyes and big black circles under them. Caretaker sighs. They think to themselves that sleeping pills would be really good for whumpee.

"do you need something?" they ask.

Whumpee looks at them, with their default defiance and anger. But they look damn exhausted.

"my.. my head hurts" whumpee murmurs, their words slurring.

"of course it hurts, you need to sleep" caretaker's voice was harsh.

whumpee looks at caretaker with anger, and they get up from the couch. but their body collapses forward, as they lay weakly on the floor. Caretaker kneels next to them.

"whumpee? you're ok?" they ask in a worried tone.

whumpee whimpers something about how awful caretaker is as caretaker massages their back. whumpee is unable to move due to the exhaustion, and they just look at caretaker with a disgust, only to slowly melt as caretaker takes care of them and tucks them in a comfortable and clean bed.

"sleep, when you wake up I'll make a delicious meal for u" caretaker whispers as the kiss whumpee's forehead and leave the room. whumpee sighs.

They didn't want caretaker to touch or be kind to them because they knew how touch and affection starved they were and how much they wanted a hug with reassuring words included. But it was just awkward to be so desperate for affection.

Whumpee fell asleep between these thoughts, and when they woke up, caretaker hugged them and carried them to the kitchen, as whumpee finally relaxed in caretaker's arms.

✮ ⋆

I can't remember where the fuck I was going when I started this.

Anyways, I'm deeply sorry for any mistake I could've made when I wrote this.

Luv ya (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

#sleep deprivation #whump #writing prompts #whump prompt #whump tropes #idk man #this is so badly written #defiant whumpee

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snakebites-and-ink · 7 months

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CW: Pet whump, referenced kidnapping, captivity, conditioned whumpee

Whumper stretched and glanced at their clock. It was probably time to check on their freshly-caught pet. They headed to the room their new pet, Whumpee, was in, and opened the door only to be greeted with furious yelling and the jingling of chains. Clearly Whumpee was not happy with their new arrangement.

Whumper walked into the room and shut the door behind them. “Hello there.”

With a small growl, Whumpee lunged towards Whumper and swept their leg out in a kick that very nearly landed.

“What do you want?” they demanded angrily as Whumper stepped just out of their reach.

Whumper smirked. They retracted Whumpee’s chain so that it was too short to stand with, and Whumpee was forced to their knees. “Nothing too extreme. I just want you to behave and obey me.”

Whumpee struggled against the chain uselessly. Whumper walked closer, feeling fairly safe from attack now. “What—? What are you going to do with me? Why am I even here?”

Whumper smiled. Someone was asking all the right questions. “I’m going to keep you for myself, dear. You’re here because this is your new home. You are my pet.”

Whumpee paused. Their eyes went wide. “You mean you’ve adopted me?” they asked.

“That’s right,” Whumper confirmed.

“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you! I won’t disappoint you,” Whumpee said, nuzzling Whumper’s leg affectionately.

Whumper hesitated, dumbfounded. They gently tipped Whumpee’s face up to look at their own. “Are you…already trained?”

“Yes sir, I know my place,” Whumpee said intently.

“Oh?” Whumper responded. “Then why were you acting so feral just a minute ago?”

“I didn’t know you were adopting me! I thought I’d been kidnapped, and I had to fight my captors like a person to have a chance at getting out. I can be good, sir, I promise!” They looked up at Whumper with pleading eyes.

“And why were you going about the world without an owner when I found you? Living your life like you thought you were a person?”

Whumpee averted their gaze, not looking like they’d been caught faking, but like they actually were sad. “After I was taken from my first owner, no one wanted to have me as their pet. They all said I was a human. No one else took care of me, so I had to take care of myself.”

Whumper lowered themself to Whumpee’s level. They cupped Whumpee’s cheek gently, and noticed that they automatically tilted their head slightly into Whumper’s hand.

“Oh, I bet that was hard, wasn’t it?” They kept their tone soft and sympathetic, but inwardly Whumper was ecstatic. Whumpee didn’t even want to be free.

Whumpee nodded, face rubbing against Whumper’s hand as they did so.

“Don’t worry. Now that you’re mine, I’ll take care of everything for you. You won’t have to work another day in your life to have nourishing food and a roof over your head, so long as you don’t do anything too foolish like running away.”

Whumpee dove towards Whumper and hugged them fiercely. “Thank you thank you sir, thank you, you’re so nice I need it—”

Whumper was delighted. Whumpee was so so grateful, practically loved Whumper already for taking them. And here Whumper had been expecting to be hated and resisted for a couple weeks at least. They pulled Whumpee back enough to see their face. Were those tears? Aw, they were! Whumper forced their instinctive grin to emerge as something warm and soft instead. If Whumpee thought they were nice and caring for doing this, Whumper wasn’t planning to disabuse them of that notion as long as their behavior stayed good enough. “Shh, it’s alright, dear pet, relax. You’ll never have to worry about anything again.”

Whumper hugged back, holding Whumpee close. They felt so small and sweet in Whumper’s arms. Whumpee obediently quieted their rambling and let go of a portion of the desperate tension in their body. With Whumpee’s face tucked safely out of view against Whumper’s chest, Whumper allowed their wide grin to finally appear. This was going to work out wonderfully.

#I may have used the placeholder name Whumper but really they’re more of a Carewhumper. At least with this particular Whumpee.#They wouldn’t be so gentle with someone less conditioned tho…#whump #original fic #whumpblr #writing #whump writing #whumper pov #pet whump #(not institutionalized)#conditioned whumpee #recapture #of a sort #my posts #my writing

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whump-a-la-mode · 2 years

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Whumpees and Kind Restraints

Whumpee has just been rescued by Caretaker. Yet, even when away from the danger of Whumper, Whumpee proves to be a danger to themself. Careatker is forced to restrain them, to keep them safe

• A conditioned Whumpee has grown so accustomed to punishment that, with Whumper absent, they feel the need to punish themself. Cue mitten restraints to keep Whumpee from grabbing things or hitting themself. (For bonus points, even plastic silverware is too dangerous, leading them to being spoonfed)

• Conditioned Whumpee has been taught that their friends are dangerous, that everyone is dangerous, that Whumper is the only safety in this world. They need to be tied down to a bed to keep from attacking and harming others, or themself.

• Whumpee desperately wants to return to Whumper. The moment Caretaker turns their back, Whumpee is trying to escape out the nearest window. Anytime they aren’t being watched, they need to be tied down somewhere, to keep from fleeing.

• Caretaker feels terrible about tying Whumpee up, even as the restraints are soft and comfortable. They resist for as long as they can, but, it gets to a point that Caretaker can no longer keep an eye on Whumpee 24/7. They need to sleep and eat as well. Even as they hate it, restraints become the only option

• Whumpee begs not to be restrained, they’ll be good, they promise, they won’t attack-- Yet, every time, they do

• On the other hand, Whumpee who begs to be restrained. They’re a monster, they’re going to hurt their friends, please don’t let them hurt their friends.

• Whumpee has nightmares, or worse, they sleepwalk. Without restraints in their sleep, they thrash, injuring themself in the process. Maybe even a nightguard in their mouth?

• What about a tracker? Whumpee has a tendency to flee their new home, especially when they panic. A tracker bracelet can keep them safe. Imagine a terrified Whumpee, curled up in the middle of the forest at night, shivering, as Caretaker tracks a dot on their phone. They hug Whumpee when they finally find them, begging them to please never do that again.

• One night, Whumpee wakes up, tied to the bed, to see someone entering the room. Whumper. Is it real? Sleep paralysis? A horrible dream? Whatever it is, Whumpee can’t move.

• And how can I forgot my favorite, “I know, I’m sorry, it’s for your own good.”

#whumpblr #whump community #whumpee #whump #whumper #caretaker #kind restraints #caretaking #medical whump #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #recovery #whump prompts #whump prompt list

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 8 months

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Serving Tea

A writing exchange for @laffy-taffy-creations! Hope you like it! Also, big thanks to @creweemmaeec11 for helping me write this!

The prompt was as follows:

Set up: Whumpee who is currently staying with Caretaker after being rescued from a place they were used as a servant, every month Whumpee has a breakdown about 'not being used like they're meant to be' (thanks to brainwashing) and each month Caretaker promises to try but never does because they can't imagine ever asking anything of Whumpee.

Prompt: "Master/Mistress, you say this every time... *Let me do something for you*..."

----------------------------

“Whumpee, what’s wrong?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee tried to maintain their composure, but they let out a choked sob anyway. They stood in front of Caretaker with their head down, unable to look them in they eye. Caretaker got up out of their armchair and approached Whumpee, concern etched into their features. They wanted to hug them, but they refrained, knowing Whumpee wouldn’t know how to receive it.

“You s-still won’t use me like I’m meant to be!” Whumpee cried.

Caretaker bit their lip.

“I promise I’ll try-”

“You say that every time!” Whumpee blurted, then gasped.

Whumpee withdrew into themselves, frightened that they had interrupted their master. When they spoke again, it was much quieter.

“Let me do something for you, Master…”

Caretaker’s face fell. Whumpee sounded so… desperate. The last thing they wanted to do was feed into their conditioning, but…

“Okay, Whumpee, can you- can you bring me a… can you bring me a cup of tea?”

Whumpee blinked, looking up. Their face brightened as they nodded quickly. They practically ran to the kitchen to make Caretaker’s tea. Caretaker sighed, settling back into their armchair and burying their face in their hands.

Whumpee returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea in their hands. They handed it to Caretaker.

“Thank you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said quietly, “there’s something else I’d like you to do for me…”

“Of course, Master! Anything.”

“One, like I’ve been telling you, you can call me Caretaker, I’m not your master,” Caretaker said, “two, I want you to bring me another cup, empty this time.”

“Empty? O-of course, Mas- Caretaker, I’ll be right back.”

Whumpee left and returned with an empty teacup. Caretaker took it and poured half of their tea into it. Whumpee tilted their head, puzzled. Caretaker handed the second cup back to Whumpee.

“I don’t understand, M- Caretaker,” Whumpee said.

“It’s for you to drink,” Caretaker explained.

“Oh, Caretaker, I couldn’t-”

“Answer this for me, and be honest, do you not like tea?”

“Oh, I love it, but-”

“Would you not enjoy drinking it?”

“I would enjoy it-”

“Then that’s all there is to it,” Caretaker said with a soft smile, “that’s your tea, and you should drink it. Just like you have your room, and your freedom to do what you want. You don’t need permission from me, and you don’t have to do everything for me.”

Whumpee looked quite conflicted. It was as if Caretaker was speaking a foreign language to them. Hesitantly, they took a sip of the tea. They looked to Caretaker for reassurance.

“It’s alright,” Caretaker said, “no one’s going to punish you. Sit down.”

Caretaker gestured to the other armchair. Whumpee looked horrified.

“Whumpee, this is your home too, you can sit where you want.”

Whumpee gulped, and very gingerly sat down in the soft seat. When nothing bad happened, Whumpee relaxed just a tiny bit.

“There, see?” Caretaker said, “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get used to it, I promise.”

Whumpee nodded, then took another sip of tea. Caretaker held back the urge to cheer.

“Good job,” Caretaker said instead, “it’s good, isn’t it?”

Whumpee nodded with a small smile, taking another sip of their tea. This was the most progress they had made in months. One day, they’d be fully recovered, and wouldn’t feel the need to ask permission for anything or become subservient to a master. Caretaker eagerly awaited that day.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

#writeblr #writing #creative writing #whump #snippet #as requested #tea #serving tea #servant whump #conditioning #conditioned whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #caretaker x whumpee #recovery whump #whump aftermath

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whump-and-other-misfortunes · 4 months

Text

Whumpuary 2024 Day 2

2. (Jan 03-04) "Get away from me" / Collapse / Choking

cw celebrity whumpee, exhaustion, fainting, controlling whumper

Whumpee stumbled offstage, lightheaded. Every muscle in their body ached, down to their feet which were unbelievably sore from endless nights of performing. They wanted nothing more than to unlace their boots and chuck them into the nearest trashcan. At the very least, sneakers might be more comfortable onstage—but that wasn’t their look, according to Whumper.

“Hey, you did great out there!” The guitarist from one of the opening bands clapped Whumpee on the shoulder as they passed.

Whumpee gave her a weak smile. “Thanks.” They could barely hear their own voice through the cotton that filled their ears.

Sit. They needed to sit. Whumpee scanned the backstage area desperately for somewhere to rest—just for a minute, that was all they needed. Spots swam in their vision and a wave of dizziness sent the world spinning around them. Before they knew it, Whumpee’s eyes rolled back and they collapsed to the ground.

“Whumpee,” a voice said, from what felt like a million miles away. “Hey, Whumpee, are you alright?”

A hand smacked their face lightly, and Whumpee groaned. They blinked away the spots in their vision as someone helped them sit up.

“What the fuck was that?” the voice demanded, anger concealing a hint of genuine concern. It was Whumper kneeling beside them, looking Whumpee over.

Still a little out of it, Whumpee rubbed their eyes with the heels of their hands. “Mm. Tired.”

Their manager sighed in annoyance. “So you’re just gonna pass out on me every time you get tired?”

“No, ‘m sorry,” Whumpee muttered. A few people had stopped to check on them, but Whumper was shooing them away. “Just so many shows. I need a break.”

Whumper rolled their eyes, reaching out to straighten the singer’s shirt. “You’re fine. I don’t hear any of your bandmates complaining. You’ve only got a couple more shows on this tour and then you can go home and get as much beauty sleep as you want, princess.”

“Don’t condescend me,” Whumpee said, pushing away the hands that had begun fixing their hair for them.

Whumper pulled back with a glare. “Don’t forget who’s making sure you get paid.”

Of course they were right—that was why Whumpee did what they said, no matter how much it broke them down. No matter how badly their body ached or how numb the exhaustion left them. This was the life Whumpee had wanted. The fame, fortune, and everything that came along with it. They looked down, sniffling.

“Oh, come on. Don't cry,” Whumper said, voice a bit gentler. They pulled Whumpee into a hug. “Just a few more shows. I know you can tough it out.”

Whumpee nodded. They’d do it—they’d push through the sleepless nights in the bus and the ringing in their ears and the spotlights blinding them. It’s what they had to do.

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno2 #collapse #exhaustion whump #celebrity whumpee #fainting #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #resigned whumpee #emotional whump #snippet

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warmblanketwhump · 1 year

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Hi! Can you write something where caretaker won't pick up whumpee from school (because they're working at home) but it starts to rain, and whumpee walks in dreanched and cold, and caretaker feels super guilty for making them walk home? Thank you!!

absolutely!! here you go!

———————

“B, I’ve got a million fires to put out with work right now. Can’t you find another way home this one time?” Somehow B always managed to pick A’s busiest days when they wanted a ride home from campus, and after weeks of little trips back and forth, A wasn’t in the mood for another disruption today.

“But it’s so far! And one of my classmates said it was going to rain!”

A pulls the glasses from their face and pinches the bridge of their nose. “B, I need to focus on work right now, okay? Either wait on campus a couple extra hours until I can be free, or find another way back. Maybe the bus? Or a ride with a friend?”

“Fine.” B sighs dejectedly.

“Hey. We agreed that this would happen. My job is important—”

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have asked.” B’s tone is sharper, more clipped now, and A winces.

“Hey, I’ll see you lat—”

The phone beeps as B hangs up without a goodbye, and A feels a twinge of guilt. They probably deserved that—it would only be a 20 minute drive for them, tops. It just wasn’t convenient right now, what with all the projects they were juggling right now.

And as much as they loved B, they could be a bit…delicate when it came to being outdoors. And they were just so behind on work, and they’d hoped to catch up on a few things before the end of the week…

A shakes any lingering doubts out of their head. B would be fine. And back to work they go.

A’s so deeply focused that they don’t move from their spot until they hear the click of the door and the squelching of wet shoes, over an hour and a half later. At that sound, A bounds out of the office, fully prepared to ask B about their day. But when they reach the entryway, they’re greeted by a pitiful sight that sends a jolt of guilt through their gut.

B is absolutely drenched, hair plastered to their forehead, clothes clinging to every angle of their body. They’re sniffling as they turn and lock the door, then work on peeling their sopping wet jacket off, but their hands are shaking so badly that they fumble with the wet fabric. Once they hang it on the hall tree, they hug their arms close to their body, trying to conserve what little body heat the rain didn’t leach out of them.

“B, you’re soaked.“ A’s jaw drops in shock.

“I’m f-f-fine,” they force through chattering teeth, and A can see that their wet skin is covered in goosebumps. “J-just w-wet.” A shudder ripples through them. “And c-cold.”

“...why didn’t you wait?”

B shrugs. “F-figured I c-could b-beat th-the rain. D-didn’t.”

“Let me help you dry off and—”

“Go b-back t-t-to work. I j-just want a hot sh-shower.” Without another word, B pushes past A to head to the bathroom. Guilt pools in A’s stomach. Had their work really been that important?

They hear the creak and the whine of the shower starting, so A tries to go back to work. But they can’t focus, constantly listening for B’s footsteps or a glimpse of B coming back to the living room. Even as they respond to emails, A feels the pit in their stomach deepen.

Finally, they can’t take the waiting anymore. It’s almost dinner time, anyways, and B’s got to want something to eat. With a few clicks, they log out of their work computer and head to B’s bedroom. There, they spot a blanket-buried lump on the bed, covered with an extra quilt.

“B? Any thoughts on what you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.” A small voice comes from the blanket lump.

“Why don’t you at least come down with me and tell me how your day was?”

“Later.”

“B, come on. Talk to me. I’m sorry for—“

“A, I’m so cold.” There’s no bitterness in their tone—just sheer, pleading desperation, and alarm bells ring in A’s head as they rush to B’s side.

Up close, A can see that B’s hugging themselves tightly under the covers, shivering all over. When A grabs B’s hand, it’s ice cold in their own. A feels like they’ve been punched in the stomach.

“B, you’re frozen.” A gently rubs their arms and back through the blankets, pressing a hand to B’s damp forehead. They frantically scan the room, spotting another old throw blanket, which they hastily grab and tuck around B’s body. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt this bad?”

“You were busy.” Another shudder rattles their teeth, and A can see them weakly rubbing their arms.

It isn’t possible for A to feel any smaller. “Look, B, what I said earlier…I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten you.”

B just shrugs. “It’s fine.”

But it’s not fine, and A doesn’t know how to make that any clearer to B. With a knot in their stomach, A mentally clears their entire evening schedule, brushes away the looming projects and deadlines. Projects be damned—they owe B this much and more.

“Well, I’m not busy now.” A forces a smile, smoothing a still-damp curl off of B’s forehead. “Will you let me help and make it up to you?”

B nods, eyes slipping shut as they pull the blankets tighter around them. “I’ll take any apology in the form of warmth.”

Within 15 minutes, B’s curled around a hot water bottle and sipping on a steaming mug of broth, which A holds to their lips so they can stay bundled. Once the mug is drained, B slips back to laying down, their eyes staring longingly at A.

“What is it? What do you need?” A lays a gentle hand on their shoulder.

“Can you…do you have time to stay here for a bit? With me?”

A slips under the covers, drawing them in a hug. “Of course I do. Try and get some sleep, okay?”

B nods, and closes their eyes, and within minutes their breath has evened out into an uneasy sleep. A breathes a sign of relief. They’ll just close their eyes for a moment…

….and when they open them, they’ve got a sore neck and B’s head pillowed against their stomach. It’s pitch dark outside, the rain still pattering on the leaves, and a low rumble of thunder pierces the air. B stirs, moaning softly and blinking their tired eyes open.

“B? How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” B’s still buried in all the layers, dark smudges of bruises under their eyes. “Do you think I could stay home from class tomorrow?” Their voice is weak and crackly, and they cough into the blankets.

“Of course, love.” A gently threads their fingers through B’s hair, massaging small circles on their scalp. “Still cold?”

B shakes their head. “I’d rather miss class than go out in the rain again.” They shudder weakly, tugging the covers up to their ears and pressing closer to A. “It’s like the cold’s coming from inside me.”

A’s heart twists. The poor thing really did get chilled to the bone, and they sound on their way to a nasty cold, too. They hug B closer, tracing long, wide circles on their back. “Then we’ll both have to stay in bed where it’s warm, won’t we?

A feels B’s arms tighten around their waist in a weak hug, and thats enough to make them start mentally composing their out of office email.

#cold whump #sickfic #whump fic #huddling for warmth #caught in the rain #can you tell I love this trope lol

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whumpshaped · 9 months

Note

challenging you to write some sweet and fluffy comfort for a whumpee who desperately needs it :)

tw angst, implied death

"I can never do anything to help!" Whumpee sobbed. "I– I'm useless, I'm always too late, or too weak, or– or too unequipped–"

Caretaker drew them into a hug, holding them together as they were about to fall apart completely. They didn't say a word, just let Whumpee cry into their shoulder for as long as they wanted. Their embrace never once loosened, and Whumpee never clung less desperately to the back of their shirt.

"That's not true," Caretaker whispered. "That's not true at all. If it were, I wouldn't be here. Friend wouldn't be here. Whumpee, you have saved so many of us."

"I've lost so many people. Too many. I can't even count. I can't– I can't even look in the mirror anymore."

Caretaker gently pushed them away, looking them in the eye. "Then look at me. I can tell you exactly what you look like. You look fucking exhausted, because you've been working your ass off for others. You can't save everyone, Whumpee. But you can sure as hell get some rest before we continue taking care of the ones you have."

#ok maybe i cant fucking write fluff #or maybe im just in a mood #by the time this goes up i hope my dog is ok but fuck today im just not in a very fluffy sugary mood #so i wrote the comfort i needed #asks #distract me prompts #angst #emotional whump #implied death #whump #whump drabble

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a-crumb-of-whump · 2 years

Text

Good Caretaker Things

Warning: Wounds/injuries, beatings, self-sacrifice, panic attacks.

Scenarios

Shrugging their coat off to wrap it around Whumpee's body.

Kissing all their scars as they patch them up and telling them how beautiful they are.

Hugging Whumpee in public, maybe as a way of shielding them from someone/something or just to give them the touch that they so desperately need.

Holding Whumpee's hand as a nurse checks on/patches their wounds.

Cradling Whumpee as they sleep, and aggressively shushing anyone who might wake them up.

Taking them home when things get too overwhelming.

Sitting down with them on the ground (bonus points if it's in public) and gently guiding them through a panic/anxiety attack.

Taking beatings for them, or using their own body to shield them from harm.

Waking up through the night to make Whumpee some food and eat with them when they ask.

Not saying anything when Whumpee asks obvious questions or repeats the same question again. Maybe even feeling a little bit proud of them because they feel comfortable enough to do that.

Dialogue

"Well done, Whumpee! You're doing so well."

"I love you. That means all of you. No exceptions."

"May I give you a hug?"

"I don't feel obliged to help you. That's never been the case. It's that I want to help you."

"Oh, Whumpee; what happened? Here, let's sit you down for a moment and I'll get some stuff to clean those wounds."

"Can I get you anything?"

"It's okay. I'll be with you the entire time."

"Would you prefer it if I guarded the door while you take your bath?"

"I know that Whumper broke your favourite necklace, so I got you a new one. I know it isn't the same, but I hope it can at least help you a little."

"Sit down before you pass out, honey. It's okay."

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump prompt list #whump thoughts #whump scenarios #whumpee #caretaker #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 1 year

Text

Humanity's Collector

TW: kidnapping, cloning, nonsexual objectification, nonconsensual nonsexual touch, sort of doll whump, nonhuman whumpers, multiple whumpers, human whumpee

"Gosh you're pretty," Glade cooed.

Harlow looked around desperately, trying to find escape from the strange realm he had woken in.

All manner of mannequins, mirrors, carpets, vintage clothing, animal skeletons, taxidermy, pin boards of bugs, tables, book lined shelves, rock collections, stoves, paintings, statues, and other beautiful things filled the cluttered room, stretching past his line of vision.

He stood from his wicker chair, ignoring Glade, then turned in a circle, quickly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the room and number of objects held within it.

Above him the color white stretched out into infinitum. True white, not the dirty kind found in snow and house paint.

"Where am I?" he demanded. "Who are you?"

"My name is Glade," xey answered. "You're in my home."

Harlow made the mistake of eye contact.

Glade's eyes shone with the light of galaxies, a dazzling rainbow of nebulae, planets, and suns. The depth of the universe seemed tucked away within not only xeir iris, but the entirety of xeir eyes.

When Harlow finally broke away from the hypnotic sight, he was unsure of how much time had passed. Had he been staring into the cosmos for seconds? Minutes? Hours, even?

"Your home?" he asked, staring pointedly at the ebony wood ground.

His mind raced around in circles. He needed answers, yet he did not know the right questions.

Glade didn't seem human, instead a creature from a story book. And this monolithic hoard couldn't possibly be real.

"I'm a collector," Glade explained, running xeir sharp manicured nails through Harlow's hair.

"What do you collect, exactly?"

Harlow watched a glittering green beetle crawl across the ground, finding a hiding spot underneath a red and purple feathered ballgown displayed on a mannequin.

"All sorts of things," Glade said, flapping xeir hands wildly. "Your world is fascinating. I remember when your kind learned how to create fire and tame animals. You have grown so much since then. I needed to have one of you for my own. Your creations are not enough any more."

Harlow took in Glade's appearance, avoiding xeir hypnotic eyes.

Despite xeir clearly alien nature, xey chose to appear humanoid. Xeir iridescent skin glimmered, changing colors with every movement, no matter how slight, as light poured over xeir body.

Xey was clad in a wedding dress, embroidered with bats, gravestones, and other black threaded Halloween iconography. Over this hung a fur cape, the stitched together pelts of numerous small animals. Xeir heels, as thin as sewing needles, seemed impossible to walk on, granting them half a foot of height.

Behind xeir smiling lips were two rows of pointed teeth, slicing perfectly through xeir pale grey gums. Delicate jewelry of precious metal and gems adorned xeir elven ears. Xeir white hair reflected brilliant light, long enough to almost brush against the ground.

"Don't worry," Glade continued. "I'll take care of you. I have everything you could possibly need. I've been collecting human things for millenia upon millenia. You may use my collection to its fullest extent."

"I want to go home," Harlow said. "Please let me go. You can find someone else. I'm sure there's someone who would love to be here. But I like my life on earth."

Glade paused. "But I wanted you," xey said softly. "I like you."

Glade hugged Harlow tightly, mimicking how xey had observed humans comforting one another. Xeir skin had none of Harlow's warmth, and he found touching xem a slightly uncomfortable experience.

Harlow closed his eyes. "I have to be dreaming. This can't be real."

"Of course this isn't real, but it isn't a dream either. It's my home, far outside of your universe."

"God, please send me back. I don't know why I'm here, or how, but I can't do this."

"Yes you can," Glade said. "It's easy. I will take care of you, and you will be my plaything. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Harlow broke away from Glade, and took off walking. There had to be an exit.He passed statues of marble angels, spinning wheels, shelves of scientific specimens, and surrealist artwork.

"No, that doesn't sound nice," he said angrily, as Glade easily matched his pace, wearing a concerned expression. "I'm leaving."

The room still seemed to stretch on into infinity, but everything had an end if one walked far enough to find it.

"You can't leave," Glade said.

"And why not?"

"Because I didn't steal you. The original Harlow Finch Echowood is still at home. You belong here with me."

Harlow stopped in his tracks, sitting down on an ancient jewelled throne to keep from collapsing in shock.

"Excuse me?"

Glade smiled. "We are going to have so much fun, and no one will ever know you to be here. Come now, I have food prepared for you."

"I can't eat your food," Harlow said. "I'd never be able to leave if I did that."

"I'm afraid you've mistaken me for some of my cousins," Glade said. "You will eat, or you will starve. And you are never leaving because you belong to me. It doesn't matter what you do."

Harlow stood up, seething. "I hate you. Let me go. You can't keep me here."

Glade looked truly hurt, but Harlow knew, within the depths of his very soul, that it was only a mimicry of human emotion.

"I care for you," Glade said. "I couldn't send you back, even if I wanted to. Then there would be two Harlow Finch Echowoods trying to live your life."

"I don't belive you. I'm still me. I still remember my life."

"You are an exact duplication of the original Harlow Finch Echowood. You have the same soul and DNA. Of course you still remember."

"Just combine us again or something," Harlow begged.

With every passing moment, his belief in Glade's words only grew.

"I cannot. I can only make copies of beautiful things."

Glade spread xeir arms, gesturing to xeir hoard of human objects collected in centuries long past.

"Why me?" Harlow asked. "I didn't do anything."

Glade flicked the tears from his face, slightly scratching him with xeir nail, leaving his skin red and puffy.

"You act as though this is a punishment. I have simply added you to my collection. Now come, I have made you good food."

Glade gripped Harlow's arm and dragged him away from where he had been sitting, weaving throughout xeir collection, somehow able to avoid tripping over anything.

Soon enough, they came upon a small 1950s era kitchen. Two counters, a stove, and a sink formed a corner tucked away between a row of unplugged television and a huge crooked stalagmite growing from the floor.

Glade opened the oven and pulled out a pan of fresh bread. Xeir hands were bare, but did not burn on the hot metal dish. Xey grabbed a knife from a drawer and cut a slice, laying it out on a neon green ceramic plate.

"Eat while it's still hot," Glade said with a bright smile. In xeir time spent with Harlow, xeir teeth had dulled significantly, and xeir gums had taken on a pale shade of pink.

Harlow reluctantly tried the bread, finding it to be heavenly. He scarfed it down, suddenly famished.

"Thank you," he said automatically.

"I have much food. It is scattered about my home, and easy to find if you look. It never rots. You may feast on it as you please."

Harlow sighed, and clambered up to sit on the counter. "I'm really never leaving, am I?"

"I am glad you finally understand."

"What happens when you get bored of me?"

"I never get bored of my playthings."

Harlow glanced around his surroundings, then closed his eyes. It was all so overwhelming. More colors and shapes than he had seen in his lifetime now filled his vision no matter where he looked.

"How big is this place?"

"Infinite. If you travel far enough, my collection begins to grow thin. There is a boundary of where my possesions lie, and after that is the abyss. It can be nearly impossible to find one's way back from nothingness."

"I hate it here," Harlow raged. "I want to be around other people. Not you."

"I will bring you some," Glade promised. "Allow me a few minutes to collect them."

Harlow froze. How could he allow more people to be stuck in this horrible purgatory of preserved humanity, just so he could have someone to talk to?

"No. Please. Don't put anyone else through this."

"Oh, how you confuse me." Something odd bloomed over Glade's face. "I see. Come along then."

Harlow hopped off the counter and followed Glade as xey walked under a vast canopy of safety pinned together curtains.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," xey called in a sing song voice. "I've brought a new trinket."

People approached Glade and Harlow from the shadows. Well, not people, exactly.

They were like Glade, monstrous and wonderful, stepping straight from a story book and into Harlow's prison.

A serpentine woman curled herself around a pillar. Her brass scales gleamed in the light filtering in through the canopies. A forked tongue slid out of her open blue mouth and examined the air.

Hovering a few feet above the ground, an unholy sprectre of a fair young woman flickered. Its ratted wedding dress and brilliant smile were smeared with blood.

A demon dressed in full armor, with an iron cap fashioned to fit his horns, stood at attention, a fearsome smile on his smoldering lips. An angel stood to his left, a mirror counterpart, glowing with the cold light of heaven in contrast with the warm fires of hell. Both opposing figures were bound to one another with golden thread.

In a shallow water fountain knelt a person with the wings of a dragonfly. As light flitered through zir wings, blues and greens played tricks on the water, nearly blinding in its intensity.

Still more beings continued to approach Glade, more than Harlow could keep track of, intent on viewing whatever treasure xey had brought back with xem.

"I finally brought a human home," Glade said proudly. "Isn't he just a doll?"

Harlow flinched as numerous hands and insect like feelers crept over his body, Glade's companions examining him closely.

"Get off of me."

The inhuman figures began to undress him, murmuring in appreciation at the new creature in their midst.

Harlow tugged back at his clothing, trying to preserve his modesty in the throng of bizzare creatures, none whom held any care for his feelings nor his arguments.

He tried to break free of them, pushing and shoving, even striking at them with closed fists and elbows. But he was pulled back, the creatures murmuring in apreciation on how bizzarly their newest aquisition behaved.

"Stop touching me," Harlow cried. "God, please. I hate being crowded. What the fuck are you doing?"

"What is it doing?" the spectre asked. It brought its freezing, yet intangible, hand to Harlow's face, as though to seize his tears.

"That is so weird," another remarked, clicking its pincers in an oddly specific pattern.

The different figures murmured to each other, formulating explanations.

"Why is it doing that?"

"Is it because we're touching it?"

"It's water, I think."

"He's crying," Glade explained, flapping xeir hands in mimicry of human excitement. "It means he's upset. Isn't it the most delightful thing?"

"I hate you," Harlow said thickly, as tears continued to stream down his reddened cheeks. "I want to go home."

"You are so repetitive," Glade remarked.

Harlow finally relented. As the sea of hands overwhelmed and violated him, grasping at every piece of his flesh, he only hoped that they would soon grow bored and move on to newer shinier pursuits. He couldn't stand to do this for the rest of eternity.

@little-flame-prince @anomalys-taxonomy @elim-flower @devourerofcheesecake @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whumpshaped @stuffbybean @heavenly-whumper

#Whump #Fantasy whump #Whump one shot #Cloning whump #Kidnapping whump #Nonhuman whumper #Human whumpee #Doll whump

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