Casting A Spell Of Finish Your Wip Rb To Pass It On

casting a spell of finish your wip rb to pass it on

being a whump writer is like 'i want savage pain and tenderness and love but with vengeance and anger that makes me want to scream but also maybe hand-holding and-'

Sorry, what's 'basic criteria'? Is it like, transphobic, homophobic and racist?

Yes! Just the stuff that 90% of ppl have on their dnis

Anyone discriminatory against a group of ppl for something they can't control - homophobia, transphobia, racism, colorism, ablism, ect.

Do you have a "favourite" physical trait to give to your OCs? If so, what is it?

Back home P2

part 1

EXPLICIT NONCON (sex/kissing, etc), kidnapping, ransom, abuse, pet whump, nsfwhump, guns, caretaker × whumpee

Whumpee laid limply with their head in Whumper's lap, waves of horror sinking into them fully. The van's engine hummed noisily around the both of them, drowned out only by Whumper's words.

"I'm so happy to have you back... it's been ever so lonely without you. I've got everything prepared for you at home." Whumper hadn't stopped talking since they had dragged whumpee into the back of the vehicle with them. "My sweet pet... it's gonna be so nice to have you around again."

Whumper grabbed their chin for the tenth time, tilting it up to look into their eyes. Whumpee would've flinched away if they were able.

"Ghh-"

"Scared, huh?" Whumper fake-pouted. "Poor thing. I wish you could talk so i could hear you beg~ Oh well, I suppose we'll save that for later. Drugs should be wear off anytime." Whumper dropped whumpee's head, resituating their hands in their hair.

The van's engine quieted. They were at whumper's place. Whumpee let out a weak cry, the best they could at the moment.

"Oh, that's adorable~" Whumper gushed. They picked Whumpee up swiftly, holding them against their larger body. "You're nice and warm, arent you?"

"Nnh-" Whumpee managed, regaining some of their movement. They curled their fingers in halfway, lifting their head just an inch.

Whumper ignored their protest, walking out the back of the van as their henchmen opened the back doors. Whumper carried them all the way up the sidewalk leading to their large house.

"Nnnuh..." Whumpee slurred. "Nuh... no..."

"Babbling, hm? Cute." Whumper walked slowly through the familiar house towards the bedroom. "How long has it been since Caretaker rescued you, love? A year? Little over?"

"Agh," Whumpee huffed as Whumper brought them into the lavish bedroom, setting them on the bed. "Cae-a'er. Need Caretaker..."

"Not anymore. You have me again." Whumper said sweetly, lowering Whumpee. Whumpee realised with a jolt that they were being put in their cage.

"No," they cried, finding themself clinging to Whumper. This only made the taller laugh, standing up with whumpee still in their arms.

"You wanna stay with me?" Whumper teased, bringing them to the bed instead. They leaned over whumpee, grinning. "I suppose we'll get reacquainted then, hm?"

"No, stop-" Whumpee whimpered, now able to kick at them. "Please, no..."

Whumper only smiled wider, grabbing a collar out of their pocket- whumpee's collar. "Sit pretty for me, will you?" Whumper snapped it around their throat, tightening it just a little too much.

"Get off of me," Whumpee panted, their heart beating out of their chest. "I want Caretaker, please!"

"Are you gonna be this difficult all night? You know I can correct those behaviors with a couple of my tools, right?" Whumper ran their hand under Whumpee's shirt, their long fingers cold and uncomfortable against their torso. "Caretaker has undone so much of my hard work, haven't they? It's alright, sweet thing. Ill get your mind rewired in no time."

"Caretaker is coming to get me," Whumpee summoned their courage to retort. "They'll be here soon and beat the shit out of you and bring me home."

Whumper let out an amused laugh, smoothing whumpee's ruffled hair with one hand and pulling their shirt up further with the second. "Im sure they will, love. For now, I'll get you started with nice little treat..."

Whumpee shivered as whumper's finger ran under the waistband of their sweatpants.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Caretaker blinked awake, flinching when the bright light of their living room ceiling shone into their eyes. They rolled to their side with a groan and were met with the sight of the barrel of a gun.

"Goddamn-" they cried, sitting up. The gun's muzzle whacked them right in the cheekbone, knocking them back down.

A man in a dark uniform stood over them, pushing his gun against Caretaker's chest. "Stay exactly where you are, or ill put a bullet through your heart."

"Hey, hey!" Caretaker raised their palms innocently. "What's-"

All at once, memories from hours earlier flooded their mind. They looked around at their living room, spotting two uniformed women that were also armed.

"Where is whumpee?" Caretaker asked, leaning back against the couch so the gun didn't jab so violently into their chest.

"With whumper," the man told them and checked his watch, "who should've been here a while ago."

"Oh, god..." Caretaker whispered, biting their inner lip to stall the anxiety rebuilding itself in their chest. "Why's whumper coming back?"

"You'll find out when they arrive. Just stay put and nobody gets hurt." The man poked the gun at their chest again.

So caretaker slumped back against the couch, their mind racing a mile a minute.

What if whumpee's not okay? What's whumper doing? Why are they late? Are they hurting whumpee now? Why do they want to see me?

Several minutes had passed of this before footsteps came up the wooden porch. Whumper strode in, their hair slightly disheveled and wearing a different suit.

"Ah, caretaker..." Whumper sighed, signaling their henchmen out the door with a flick of their wrist. The three filed out the door without a sound, leaving Caretaker alone with Whumper.

"Whumper," Caretaker sat up, heart racing. "What do you want? Is whumpee okay."

"Yes, yes, your timid little friend is alright. More than alright actually." Whumper smirked, standing right in front of Caretaker.

"More than alright..?"

"I made whumpee feel good, caretaker. I gave them the attention they deserve." Whumper crouched lower, gripping Caretaker by the chin. "Ive given them what I assume you've been depriving the poor thing of."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Can you smell them on my breath, Caretaker? Or rather-" Whumper leaned in and kissed them forcefully, "taste them~?"

Caretaker smacked their face away with a grunt. They wiped their lips, glaring up at Whumper.

Everything came crashing down in that moment. Caretaker's blood ran ice cold.

"No." Caretaker's voice broke. "No, no, no. You didn't- you didn't-!" They jumped to their feet, but were forced back into their seat.

"I did, Caretaker. I did and it felt so fucking great. They'll never, ever forget this night. They're still in bed right now actually... feeling as great as ever."

Caretaker screeched in fury, jumping at whumper and swinging their fist in their direction. Whumper shoved them to the ground and twisted their arm behind their back, sending sparks of pain all the way up to their shoulder.

"I think I'll tack on another hour of their pleasure for them because of that silly stunt." Whumper hissed in their ear.

"No-! Don't punish them because of me, please!" Caretaker panted, trying to ignore the searing pain in their arm.

"Oh, its not a punishment at all. I promise you, they're having a fun time..."

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Whumpee cried out in desperation for the billionth time, tears spilling past their eyelids. The buzzing between their thighs picked up in intensity, causing their back to arch.

Whumper had left them like this- and god knows how long it'd be until they came back. It had to have been at least an hour, right? Two maybe?

They checked the clock though hazy eyes.

30 minutes had passed.

"Hel~ shit- help me!" They cried, their voice breaking into a moan. "Hurts- ev'rythin' hurts-"

Nobody came.

I need Caretaker... they'd come and hold me and play with my hair. They'd kiss me and tell me it's alright. They'd make it better.

Whumpee took a moment to imagine caretaker sitting beside them, stroking their cheek and helping them through the pain.

"Shh, honey," they'd say. "It'll all be over soon. Focus on your breathing."

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, trying to calm their ragged pants.

In four... hold four... out four...

A small whine escaped their lips on the exhale, their knees drawing together as the buzzing droned on.

They felt pressure rising inside them again and they braced to release again, wrapping their fingers around the chains to their cuffs.

They groaned, trying their best to hold still as the stimulation became too much. They saw spots in their vision when they opened their eyes.

Whumpee cast another teary glance up at the camera in the corner. They wouldn't give Whumper the show they wanted.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Caretaker slumped against the wall they had been thrown against. They glared up at Whumper who, just like them, was smeared in blood.

Whumper delivered a swift kick to their torso, drawing the wind out of them.

"You know, Caretaker. You're almost as fun to beat up as my Whumpee. I'm not used to such defiance. It'd be fun to have a good couple of months with you."

Caretaker tensed at this. This is where they were supposed to be heroic and give the "take me instead" speech and beg Whumper to let them take Whumpee's place.

But they didn't. They couldn't.

Whumper scared them. They could face them now, but to be at their mercy? They wouldn't survive a day.

"Cat's got your tongue? You seem a little shaken." Whumper smiled down at them, crouching down to their level. They cupped Caretaker's cheek and rubbed up and down the side of their face.

"Get out of my house," Caretaker whispered, shaking. With rage? With fear?

"I suppose I should get back to Whumpee... they'll be missing me by now."

"As if." Caretaker spat, silently relieved when their hand left their cheek. They instantly shifted their tone as Whumper stood to tower over them. "Be gentle on them. Please."

"Oh trust me, Caretaker. It'll only get worse from here~"

“Get on the floor.”

Their knees meet the floor with a soft thump-thump. They are clothed, and their basic needs have been met: they aren’t painfully hungry, aren’t exhausted, don’t need to use the restroom, don’t feel close to passing out. Their latest, more gruesome injuries have been healed with magic, leaving little trace that they were tortured at all.

There is still a tremor to their hands anyway.

A large, calloused hand scrapes against their scalp. His fingers comb through soft, limp hair that no longer holds light curls, but heavy, dull waves.

They see it coming, but Quinn still gasps when the hand balls into a fist to grip their hair tight and force their head back.

The Hunter smiles down on them.

“Talk.”

Quinn blinks. “…Talk?”

“Yes. Talk. Speak on command. Tell me what you’re thinking, handsome.”

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