Whump Story - Tumblr Posts
hello tumblr whump community!! i am here to offer y’all a game.. 👀
Whumpee is out on a nice walk in the forest, when they are suddenly (and rudely!) interrupted. if you’d like, you can see if you can help get them out alive..
will you play?
yes: click ‘read more’ no: ..scroll, i guess???
Whumpee continues contentedly up their trail in the forest next to their house. It’s a beautiful fall day out, their absolute favorite kind of day. The air is cool, the wind is blowing, and the leaves are crunchy and falling. They have their headphones in, listening to their favorite playlist.
They’ve been out here for a while. They have a few texts from Caretaker that they haven’t responded to yet, asking when they’ll be home. They’ll answer in a few minutes probably. Or not. Caretaker’s used to them being completely off the radar when they go on walks.
Suddenly, their music cuts off. Whumpee scowls and digs their phone out of their pocket, trying to unpause it. Their headphones are dead. That definitely takes a lot of the fun out of their walk. They should’ve been more responsible and charged their headphones.
With a sigh, Whumpee continues walking. Without their music, they’ll probably head back sooner than later. Just not yet.
And then they hear gunshots. Probably not a big deal, there are hunters in the woods, and Whumpee is wearing their bright yellow sweater that Caretaker always makes them wear in the woods during hunting season.
Still, it sounds kind of close. There’s only about two gunshots and then the sound cuts out.
A tiny prick of unease goes up Whumpee’s spine.
Maybe they should go home. But it’s such a nice day out and they don’t wanna.
***
Thank you for reading!! Please let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist for this story!! :D
If you have an additional idea for something you’d like for Whumpee to do in the next part, comment or reblog and let me know!!!
Better off Robbed
Ch 1- Recruiter's Unit
⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️
Whump, bbu, kidnapping, drugging.
♡♤◇♧ ° ● ° ♧◇♤♡
Felix tossed and turned in his bed. He hadn't slept the past few nights, hearing what sounded like talking outside his apartment window. He'd only been there a year, if that, and he still felt like he was just settling in.
What sounded like a footstep outside made him jump, his heart racing. He stared at his closed door for a bit, then brushed it off as an animal. It had to be an animal.
Am animal that jiggled the doorknob. Right- normal. Felix curled further into his blanket, trying and failing to control his terror.
And then glass smashed and Felix was on the ground between his bed and the wall. He reached up and frantically dug through his blankets for his phone.
Dead.
He clicked frantically at the power button, to no avail. He held back a cry of frustration, setting his phone back down.
Several pairs of footsteps thundered through his apartment. Heavy-booted feet, he could tell. He heard the intruders approach the door and felt his heart speed up so much he was sure anybody in the vicinity could hear.
He was being robbed. Fuck.
"I- I have a gun," he called. "Go away or I'll shoot!" That was partially true. There was a gun in the other side of the room his father had insisted he kept. Felix knew he'd never shoot it, even at the criminals robbing his apartment.
The door crashed open. The lught flicked on. A group of five people stormed in. They wore black suits and masks, two of them armed.
"My wallet and keys are on the nightstand." He said immediately. "Take what you want, I won't stop you. Don't shoot me, please. Don't shoot me." He put his hands in the air, shaking.
The two armed people in the back of the group stood silently on either side of his bedroom doorway, gun not even aimed at him. Two of the remaining three seized his arms and he shrieked, flailing helplessly against their strength.
"No, no! Don't kill me! I won't call the cops, I swear! Take what you want!" Felix cried as he was dragged up on his mattress and held down.
The fifth member of their group approached him– unarmed, he realized.
Through his tears, he read the label on that intruder's uniform.
WRU inc.
Recuiter's unit
WRU? Where had he seen that before?
His head was forced upwards, his throat exposed. Over his cheeks, he could see a syringe pulled out, the needle glinting dangerously.
"Nononono, please don't!" Felix cried out and squirmed as the needle was plunged into his throat. He continued to thrash as the plunger was pushed down.
This can't be happening. I'm dreaming. Felix tried to convince himself, his whole body shaking.
The person holding the syringe made a signal towards the two holding him down and they released his arms. He tried to swing his fist up, then realised his arms wrte too heavy to lift. His brain was cloudy and unfocused now and Felix fought to keep his eyes open.
The last thing he remembered was being lifted and carried out of his room before he fully passed out.
When is back home part 3 dropping?? No pressure ofc but im literally obsessed >.<
Hey! I'm so sorry I've left you guys hanging for so long. I haven't been super into writing for a while, but I've had a bit more motivation recently. I'll try to have it finished as soon as possible.
The long awaited...
Back Home P3
HEED WARNINGS
Reference to noncon, nudity, kidnapping, captivity, ransom, abuse, pet whump, caretaker × whumpee, fatshaming(scrutinizing gained weight [char isnt overweight, just not to "standard"), brief mentions of cancer, animal death, and human death, force feeding, shocking, creepy/gentle Whumper, stockholm syndrome (?)
-
Whumpee had already passed out when Whumper returned. They awoke what they assumed was hours later inside their kennel. To their relief, a blanket had been thrown over them— they had been tucked in. They pulled the comforter further up their body, trying to cover their bare shoulders.
They were almost back asleep when the bedroom door clicked and careful bootsteps approached.
Whumpee kept still, trying their best to appear like they were sleeping.
"Oh, Whumpee," Whumper cooed, stalking closer. "Are you awake in there?"
Whumpee's eyes cracked open just a fraction, revealing a sliver of their anxiety-laden gaze. They could feel the weight of Whumper's gaze on them, and the unease settled in their chest like a heavy stone. Their mind raced, desperately trying to think of a way to protect themselves from whatever Whumper had planned next.
Whumper's fingers trailed over the bars of the kennel, and Whumpee tensed, their heart pounding in their ears. "I know you're awake, my dear," Whumper purred, amusement tainting their words. "No need to pretend."
Swallowing hard, Whumpee forced themselves to relax, letting their body go limp as if still in slumber.
With a sudden jolt, Whumper's hand gripped Whumpee's ankle and pulled them out from under the covers. Whumpee yipped in fear as their bare body was pulled out from under the covers. They scrambled to pull the blanket back over their waist. Whumper's eyes bore into them, excited like a kid with a new toy.
"Such a fragile thing, aren't you?" Whumper mused, pouting.
"You've had your nap. Come on." Whumper's voice was stern. Whumpee shuffled forward, sitting on their knees. The cold air of Whumper's house made their skin tingle.
"Good pet," Whumper purred, scratching Whumpee's head. Whumpee pulled away from them, goosebumps prickling along their skin.
In response, Whumper grabbed their hair, making them yelp. Their voice was more disappointed than anything. "Oh, Whumpee. Absolutely not. You'll accept the affection I give you, got it?"
Whumpee cowered beneath them, their heart thumping.
"Got it?" The hand in their hair twisted and pulled up. Whumpee had to take the weight off their hands and stretch upwards for fear of their hair being ripped out.
"I understand," they squeaked, falling back to their hands and knees as Whumper released them.
"Good, hun. Now come along, will you?" Whumper started to leave the room, and Whumpee scrambled after them on their knees.
Whumper strode confidently through the hall, the monotonous tip tap of their shoes on the hardwood floors echoing against the walls. Whumpee followed close behind, staring at the heels of Whumper's shoes.
"You hungry yet? You must've burned quite a few calories before you passed out earlier." Whumper didn't check behind them to make sure Whumpee was following. Whumpee was breathing heavily through their nose as they kept up with Whumper's swift stride.
Once in the kitchen, Whumper finally turned. Their intense eyes scanned over Whumpee, seeming to rake through them and study every imperfection.
"You're out of shape, dear," Whumper leaned down, pinching the chub of their cheek. "The hell was Caretaker feeding you?"
"I eat whatever I want," Whumpee retorted, looking up at Whumper.
"You've put on weight, love. It's a shame, really. You were in exquisite shape under my care..." Whumper rose back to their feet, snagging a finger under Whumpee's collar and dragging them forward into the kitchen. "It's okay, sweetie, it's not your fault. It's that wretched Caretaker's fault. They let you get like this. But it's okay. We'll get you back to your regimen, and you'll be back in shape in no time." They patted Whumpee's cheek affectionately.
Whumpee didn't respond, struggling to keep up as they were dragged through the tiled kitchen. They saw new installments in the house as they were pulled through.
Whumpee got a better look as they arrived. Right between the fridge and a counter, there was a fancy padded dog beg with a chain hanging from the wall that was long enough to touch the bed.
"Go on, sit." Whumper tugged them forward. "Then I'll clip you in, and you'll be nice and secure."
Whumpee crawled forward slowly, feeling their hands and knees sink into the soft bed. They heard a little click as the chain clipped to their collar and turned to see Whumper standing over them.
"Stay there and be good, kay? Dinner will be ready soon." Whumper rubbed Whumpee's chin affectionately, then pulled away.
Whumpee stayed absolutely silent, leaning back against the wall as Whumper began to pull ingredients out of the fridge, an assortment of vegetables and fish.
God, they were cold. Whumpee sat against the wall, refusing to let their guard down for a second.
Whumpee tensed up as Whumper approached them.
"Open. Try this." A fork prodded at Whumpee's lips. "I tried a new rice recipe. And yes dear, you're getting rice. I figured it'd help warm you back up to your diet."
Whumpee chewed the rice, eyes on Whumper.
Why are they being so nice?
Maybe if they stayed quiet, Whumper would get bored of them.
Where are you, Caretaker?
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
It took a lot to make Caretaker cry.
They hadn't cried when their first dog had been hit by a car. They hadn't cried like their siblings had when their grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. Hell- they barely cried when their dad kicked the bucket.
But here they were, clutching Whumpee's dirty sweater to their chest. Wrecked. That was the best word for it.
Every muscle screamed for them to go find Whumpee, to bring them home, wrap them in a hundred layers of bubble wrap and never let them go again.
They couldn't.
It took most of their energy to crawl through the house to the bedroom and dig the sweater from their hamper. Everything hurt. Their cracked rib screeched in fury every time they took a shuddering breath, their bruised cheekbones stinging against the white sheets.
Well- they had been white once. Now they were blotted with a grim, deep red where Caretaker's blood had seeped in.
You have to do something.
Caretaker went to sit up after a moment, pain shooting up their sprained wrist. They fell back to the bed, hissing.
Don't be a wuss, they scolded themself. Whumpee's in much worse pain than this. Do this for their sake.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Whumpee was being served a gourmet salmon filet with a plate of fresh veggies.
They stared down at the meal, picking at the stalks of celery disdainfully.
Whumper sat a few feet in front of them, enjoying the very same dish. Their eyes flicked up and met Whumpee's, and a grin split their face. "Enjoying your salmon?"
"I don't eat fish." They responded, averting their eyes and picking up a slice of cucumber with their fork.
"You eat fish all the time, silly." Whumper laughed, continuing to bore their eyes into Whumpee. "Go on, try it."
"I don't eat fish." Whumpee repeated, biting into the crisp cucumber.
Their wrist was seized, and their fork clattered across the tablecloth. Whumpee choked on their cucumber slice, quickly swallowing it down.
"You ate fish nearly every day I had you." Whumper said. Whumpee's wrist was pinned against the table. "What right do you have," Whumper hissed, "to refuse your nice, home-cooked meal?"
Now the steak knife was tracing across their palm. Whumpee's other hand gripped the table and they did their best not to whine.
Whumpee took in a deep breath. "No, please-"
Whumper ignored them, spinning the knife on Whumpee's palm. "Oh hush, now. That'll get you nowhere. I make you delicious, healthy food and I expect you to eat it. You're lucky I even let you eat at the table.
You know I don't like having to hurt you," they said. "Apologise, and we can move on, dear."
"I'll eat," Whumpee spoke quietly, unable to shake the waver in their voice.
"And?" Whumper traced the lines of their palm ever so gently, causing Whumpee's hand to twitch.
"And I'm sorry."
"Good." Whumper finally amended, releasing their wrist. "Get to eating, now. You'll need the energy."
Whumpee didn't reply, cutting into the salmon finally. They took a bite, forcing it down. It was good fish, but all Whumpee could think about was their previous time spent in captivity. The same perfectly prepared fish and veggies were given to them at lunch and dinnertime before their beatings.
"There you go," Whumper said smoothly. "You're doing so much better already. I can tell that you're remembering how things are supposed to be."
Whumpee looked up at them momentarily, then returned to their meal.
Stay quiet, stay predictable, and stay boring, they thought. Whumper will get bored of me soon enough.
After dinner, Whumpee was brought to Whumper's bedroom. They were praying that they'd be shoved back into their cage for the evening, but they weren't quite that lucky.
Whumper sat them in the middle of the room, standing before them.
"Do you remember all your commands, Whumpee?" they asked, and when given no response, they continued. "Tonight we're gonna go through them all again. And if you've forgotten, I've got a little friend here to help us jog your memory." Whumper held up a shock collar, waving it enticingly.
Whumpee looked up at them, frozen. "Y- you don't have to use that, I- I'm fine without it. I've already got my collar on." Whumpee touched their collar gently.
Whumper brushed their hand away and switched their collar out.
"Here we are. Now kneel," Whumper ordered.
Whumpee did as they were told, kneeling with their back straight and their hands on their knees. Whumper hummed, nodding.
"Bow," Whumper said next, fiddling with the settings on the remote. Whumpee slid down until their palms and elbows touched the floor. A shock ran through their body, and they cried out.
Whumper tsked. "Head in the carpet. Raise your backside higher."
Whumpee fixed themselves, shaking.
Sit. Beg. Lay. Roll over.
Like they were a dog.
They were shocked several times for being too slow, making too much noise, not showing enough emotion in their eyes, bad posture, and whatever bullshit reason Whumper could come up with to see their pet jerk and cry in pain.
Their pet.
Was that what Whumpee saw themselves as? A pet, doing tricks for Whumper's entertainment?
Maybe it would be easier that way. Submitting to their purred commands, shooting Whumper puppy eyes when they praised them, falling into positions when they were asked... it could be so, so much easier.
Whumpee looked up at Whumper, at the expression on their face. They were smiling down at Whumpee with an achingly gentle expression.
"You're doing good, Whumpee, better than I expected. Like I said, I don't like hurting you. I shouldn't really have to, honestly. Alas, you respond very well to this form of training. We'll be done with it eventually." Whumper's hand rustled and then smoothed their hair.
Whumpee bowed their head, letting Whumper card their fingers through their hair.
"Oh, Whumpee... my sweet thing. I really missed having you. It's been so lonely here without you." Whumper got down on one knee, sighing. "Those eyes... won't you look at me, hun?"
Whumpee looked up, anxiety pricking at their neck.
"There we are. That. Those beautiful, innocent eyes." Whumper smiled lovingly. "Just... exquisite. I don't think I can ever give you back. We're meant to be together, you and I."
Whumpee didn't respond.
"Dear? Can't you talk?" Something like concern etched its way into Whumper's face. "You haven't spoken much since dinner.
"... can I go to bed?" Whumpee said softly.
They were granted a pair of warm black sweatpants and were locked back in their cage. Tucking back under their blankets, Whumpee thought of Caretaker's words to them.
"Whumpee, don't let them get to you. You promised you'd stay strong for me, right?"
Whumpee bit their lip, squeezing their pillow.
I'm sorry, Caretaker. I'm sorry for failing you.
Maybe I'm just as much of a pathetic toy Whumper says I am.
-
-
-
aren't you guys excited to wait another 9 months for pt 4? >:)
This series is literally my baby though oml
The long awaited...
Back Home P3
HEED WARNINGS
Reference to noncon, nudity, kidnapping, captivity, ransom, abuse, pet whump, caretaker × whumpee, fatshaming(scrutinizing gained weight [char isnt overweight, just not to "standard"), brief mentions of cancer, animal death, and human death, force feeding, shocking, creepy/gentle Whumper, stockholm syndrome (?)
-
Whumpee had already passed out when Whumper returned. They awoke what they assumed was hours later inside their kennel. To their relief, a blanket had been thrown over them— they had been tucked in. They pulled the comforter further up their body, trying to cover their bare shoulders.
They were almost back asleep when the bedroom door clicked and careful bootsteps approached.
Whumpee kept still, trying their best to appear like they were sleeping.
"Oh, Whumpee," Whumper cooed, stalking closer. "Are you awake in there?"
Whumpee's eyes cracked open just a fraction, revealing a sliver of their anxiety-laden gaze. They could feel the weight of Whumper's gaze on them, and the unease settled in their chest like a heavy stone. Their mind raced, desperately trying to think of a way to protect themselves from whatever Whumper had planned next.
Whumper's fingers trailed over the bars of the kennel, and Whumpee tensed, their heart pounding in their ears. "I know you're awake, my dear," Whumper purred, amusement tainting their words. "No need to pretend."
Swallowing hard, Whumpee forced themselves to relax, letting their body go limp as if still in slumber.
With a sudden jolt, Whumper's hand gripped Whumpee's ankle and pulled them out from under the covers. Whumpee yipped in fear as their bare body was pulled out from under the covers. They scrambled to pull the blanket back over their waist. Whumper's eyes bore into them, excited like a kid with a new toy.
"Such a fragile thing, aren't you?" Whumper mused, pouting.
"You've had your nap. Come on." Whumper's voice was stern. Whumpee shuffled forward, sitting on their knees. The cold air of Whumper's house made their skin tingle.
"Good pet," Whumper purred, scratching Whumpee's head. Whumpee pulled away from them, goosebumps prickling along their skin.
In response, Whumper grabbed their hair, making them yelp. Their voice was more disappointed than anything. "Oh, Whumpee. Absolutely not. You'll accept the affection I give you, got it?"
Whumpee cowered beneath them, their heart thumping.
"Got it?" The hand in their hair twisted and pulled up. Whumpee had to take the weight off their hands and stretch upwards for fear of their hair being ripped out.
"I understand," they squeaked, falling back to their hands and knees as Whumper released them.
"Good, hun. Now come along, will you?" Whumper started to leave the room, and Whumpee scrambled after them on their knees.
Whumper strode confidently through the hall, the monotonous tip tap of their shoes on the hardwood floors echoing against the walls. Whumpee followed close behind, staring at the heels of Whumper's shoes.
"You hungry yet? You must've burned quite a few calories before you passed out earlier." Whumper didn't check behind them to make sure Whumpee was following. Whumpee was breathing heavily through their nose as they kept up with Whumper's swift stride.
Once in the kitchen, Whumper finally turned. Their intense eyes scanned over Whumpee, seeming to rake through them and study every imperfection.
"You're out of shape, dear," Whumper leaned down, pinching the chub of their cheek. "The hell was Caretaker feeding you?"
"I eat whatever I want," Whumpee retorted, looking up at Whumper.
"You've put on weight, love. It's a shame, really. You were in exquisite shape under my care..." Whumper rose back to their feet, snagging a finger under Whumpee's collar and dragging them forward into the kitchen. "It's okay, sweetie, it's not your fault. It's that wretched Caretaker's fault. They let you get like this. But it's okay. We'll get you back to your regimen, and you'll be back in shape in no time." They patted Whumpee's cheek affectionately.
Whumpee didn't respond, struggling to keep up as they were dragged through the tiled kitchen. They saw new installments in the house as they were pulled through.
Whumpee got a better look as they arrived. Right between the fridge and a counter, there was a fancy padded dog beg with a chain hanging from the wall that was long enough to touch the bed.
"Go on, sit." Whumper tugged them forward. "Then I'll clip you in, and you'll be nice and secure."
Whumpee crawled forward slowly, feeling their hands and knees sink into the soft bed. They heard a little click as the chain clipped to their collar and turned to see Whumper standing over them.
"Stay there and be good, kay? Dinner will be ready soon." Whumper rubbed Whumpee's chin affectionately, then pulled away.
Whumpee stayed absolutely silent, leaning back against the wall as Whumper began to pull ingredients out of the fridge, an assortment of vegetables and fish.
God, they were cold. Whumpee sat against the wall, refusing to let their guard down for a second.
Whumpee tensed up as Whumper approached them.
"Open. Try this." A fork prodded at Whumpee's lips. "I tried a new rice recipe. And yes dear, you're getting rice. I figured it'd help warm you back up to your diet."
Whumpee chewed the rice, eyes on Whumper.
Why are they being so nice?
Maybe if they stayed quiet, Whumper would get bored of them.
Where are you, Caretaker?
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
It took a lot to make Caretaker cry.
They hadn't cried when their first dog had been hit by a car. They hadn't cried like their siblings had when their grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. Hell- they barely cried when their dad kicked the bucket.
But here they were, clutching Whumpee's dirty sweater to their chest. Wrecked. That was the best word for it.
Every muscle screamed for them to go find Whumpee, to bring them home, wrap them in a hundred layers of bubble wrap and never let them go again.
They couldn't.
It took most of their energy to crawl through the house to the bedroom and dig the sweater from their hamper. Everything hurt. Their cracked rib screeched in fury every time they took a shuddering breath, their bruised cheekbones stinging against the white sheets.
Well- they had been white once. Now they were blotted with a grim, deep red where Caretaker's blood had seeped in.
You have to do something.
Caretaker went to sit up after a moment, pain shooting up their sprained wrist. They fell back to the bed, hissing.
Don't be a wuss, they scolded themself. Whumpee's in much worse pain than this. Do this for their sake.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Whumpee was being served a gourmet salmon filet with a plate of fresh veggies.
They stared down at the meal, picking at the stalks of celery disdainfully.
Whumper sat a few feet in front of them, enjoying the very same dish. Their eyes flicked up and met Whumpee's, and a grin split their face. "Enjoying your salmon?"
"I don't eat fish." They responded, averting their eyes and picking up a slice of cucumber with their fork.
"You eat fish all the time, silly." Whumper laughed, continuing to bore their eyes into Whumpee. "Go on, try it."
"I don't eat fish." Whumpee repeated, biting into the crisp cucumber.
Their wrist was seized, and their fork clattered across the tablecloth. Whumpee choked on their cucumber slice, quickly swallowing it down.
"You ate fish nearly every day I had you." Whumper said. Whumpee's wrist was pinned against the table. "What right do you have," Whumper hissed, "to refuse your nice, home-cooked meal?"
Now the steak knife was tracing across their palm. Whumpee's other hand gripped the table and they did their best not to whine.
Whumpee took in a deep breath. "No, please-"
Whumper ignored them, spinning the knife on Whumpee's palm. "Oh hush, now. That'll get you nowhere. I make you delicious, healthy food and I expect you to eat it. You're lucky I even let you eat at the table.
You know I don't like having to hurt you," they said. "Apologise, and we can move on, dear."
"I'll eat," Whumpee spoke quietly, unable to shake the waver in their voice.
"And?" Whumper traced the lines of their palm ever so gently, causing Whumpee's hand to twitch.
"And I'm sorry."
"Good." Whumper finally amended, releasing their wrist. "Get to eating, now. You'll need the energy."
Whumpee didn't reply, cutting into the salmon finally. They took a bite, forcing it down. It was good fish, but all Whumpee could think about was their previous time spent in captivity. The same perfectly prepared fish and veggies were given to them at lunch and dinnertime before their beatings.
"There you go," Whumper said smoothly. "You're doing so much better already. I can tell that you're remembering how things are supposed to be."
Whumpee looked up at them momentarily, then returned to their meal.
Stay quiet, stay predictable, and stay boring, they thought. Whumper will get bored of me soon enough.
After dinner, Whumpee was brought to Whumper's bedroom. They were praying that they'd be shoved back into their cage for the evening, but they weren't quite that lucky.
Whumper sat them in the middle of the room, standing before them.
"Do you remember all your commands, Whumpee?" they asked, and when given no response, they continued. "Tonight we're gonna go through them all again. And if you've forgotten, I've got a little friend here to help us jog your memory." Whumper held up a shock collar, waving it enticingly.
Whumpee looked up at them, frozen. "Y- you don't have to use that, I- I'm fine without it. I've already got my collar on." Whumpee touched their collar gently.
Whumper brushed their hand away and switched their collar out.
"Here we are. Now kneel," Whumper ordered.
Whumpee did as they were told, kneeling with their back straight and their hands on their knees. Whumper hummed, nodding.
"Bow," Whumper said next, fiddling with the settings on the remote. Whumpee slid down until their palms and elbows touched the floor. A shock ran through their body, and they cried out.
Whumper tsked. "Head in the carpet. Raise your backside higher."
Whumpee fixed themselves, shaking.
Sit. Beg. Lay. Roll over.
Like they were a dog.
They were shocked several times for being too slow, making too much noise, not showing enough emotion in their eyes, bad posture, and whatever bullshit reason Whumper could come up with to see their pet jerk and cry in pain.
Their pet.
Was that what Whumpee saw themselves as? A pet, doing tricks for Whumper's entertainment?
Maybe it would be easier that way. Submitting to their purred commands, shooting Whumper puppy eyes when they praised them, falling into positions when they were asked... it could be so, so much easier.
Whumpee looked up at Whumper, at the expression on their face. They were smiling down at Whumpee with an achingly gentle expression.
"You're doing good, Whumpee, better than I expected. Like I said, I don't like hurting you. I shouldn't really have to, honestly. Alas, you respond very well to this form of training. We'll be done with it eventually." Whumper's hand rustled and then smoothed their hair.
Whumpee bowed their head, letting Whumper card their fingers through their hair.
"Oh, Whumpee... my sweet thing. I really missed having you. It's been so lonely here without you." Whumper got down on one knee, sighing. "Those eyes... won't you look at me, hun?"
Whumpee looked up, anxiety pricking at their neck.
"There we are. That. Those beautiful, innocent eyes." Whumper smiled lovingly. "Just... exquisite. I don't think I can ever give you back. We're meant to be together, you and I."
Whumpee didn't respond.
"Dear? Can't you talk?" Something like concern etched its way into Whumper's face. "You haven't spoken much since dinner.
"... can I go to bed?" Whumpee said softly.
They were granted a pair of warm black sweatpants and were locked back in their cage. Tucking back under their blankets, Whumpee thought of Caretaker's words to them.
"Whumpee, don't let them get to you. You promised you'd stay strong for me, right?"
Whumpee bit their lip, squeezing their pillow.
I'm sorry, Caretaker. I'm sorry for failing you.
Maybe I'm just as much of a pathetic toy Whumper says I am.
-
-
-
aren't you guys excited to wait another 9 months for pt 4? >:)
This series is literally my baby though oml
It started with a lack of tiredness. The whole party takes turns keeping watch during the night, and Whumpee usually dreaded their turn, sometimes accidentally falling asleep during it. But tonight they felt oddly energized, and volunteered for first shift. Then stayed up to chat with second shift, and third…
Then they were oddly hungry that morning. Whumpee was fairly small, and usually didn’t eat much. But this morning they ended up asking for more, and then finishing the Archer’s leftovers as well, and complained they were STILL hungry after that.
It was only after breakfast did Caretaker start to get concerned. Whumpee was a careful person, they didn’t trip, or bump into things, or veer sideways. But as they walked to their next destination they did all of those things and more. Once Caretaker looked back and found Whumpee had stopped walking a while ago, one hand to their forehead and taking shallow breaths.
Caretaker held their hand for the next few hours as they walked.
Even with that, Whumpee kept lagging behind, slowing the whole team down. At one point, the Barbarian started to complain about it. Usually Whumpee would be quick to defend themself, have a snapback harsh enough to shut them up, but they didn’t say anything this time. Just nodded, wiping sweat from their forehead.
A few miles later they vomited.
Caretaker had never seen Whumpee so pale and grey, their hair soaked to their forehead with sweat. Their pupils were blown wide as they gagged and coughed between bouts of vomit. Archer cursed themself for letting Whumpee have so much food, then cursed Barbarian for being mean.
It was Leader who suggested they all take a rest and check Whumpee’s temperature. It was Caretaker who reminded them that Whumpee was the one who checked everyone’s temps, with magic.
“Caretaker?”
“Yes? Whats wrong, does anything hurt? Do you feel better?”
“Why are there three of you?”
Caretaker didn’t have a chance to interpret what they meant before their knees buckled and they fainted, leaving the whole party panicked and confused.
Magic whumpee magic whumpee magic whumpee
Fantasy whump where whumpee is the only magic user of their party, and they focus on healing magic. All their teammates come to them when they’re hurt or sick.
But they’re doing some serious adventures, and whumpee ends up using so much magic they get sick- like really sick.
Like ‘I have no idea who is feeding me soup right now but the soup is too hot too hot and I’m so cold and everything hurts I can’t see I can’t think I can barely breathe it’s too cold out here the soup is too cold get these blankets off me I’m so hot’ kind of sick.
And their teammates can do NOTHING for them because they don’t know anything about magic burnout or basic health skills.
The whumpee laid on the rocky pavement, attempting to catch their breath and at least regain some strength to continue fighting.
Blood ran down the corner of their mouth; forming a puddle beneath their chin.
Suddenly, they felt a hand touch the back of their head before it tangled its fingers in their hair, yanking their head up forcefully.
"You sure fought well I will admit," The whumper told with a small chuckle as they looked down at the injured whumpee. Though they were quite wounded; they could tell the Whumpee wouldn't give up quite yet.
"But it isn't over. Not until I'm satisfied. Not until I am sure the whole city knows how weak and pathetic you really are. You put on a tough facade but I will surely break that stupid illusion of yours!" The whumper explained, their tone growing louder as they spoke.
Just as the Whumper was about to continue, they felt a shapr stabbing pain in their leg. Just above the knee.
The whumpee had struck the Whumper with their knive's blade. The sudden action had shocked Whumper, making them loose grip on the Whumpee's hair.
"Shut up already. Your voice is like nails on a chalkboard." The Whumpee had said, though their voice was quite raspy from the fight previously.
A smile appeared on Whumper's face as they watched the Whumpee get back up and getting ready to fight once again. This would be fun.
Character subject: Tommy Xia. An original character.
[TW]Blood. Child trauma possibly?
°•~•°
It was always strange to be doing something one moment, start feeling dizzy with a headache before everything went dark. Only later to awaken to a horrid scene. Maybe blood was everywhere, staining the nice white floors. The walls painted with crimson liquid, not dry enough to keep it from dripping slowly down the wall. Something dead in the middle of the room. Murdered brutally . But the worse part is when you slowly look down at yourself, seeing you drenched in blood. But you didn't feel like you were even hurt. So... where did the blood come from? Only one obvious answer..
"Mom!? Mom!" Tommy cried as fell to his knees by his limp mother's side. Such a bloody and brutal sight it was. One that a poor ten year old should never experience.
"Please mom! Wake up! Momma.." The boy said, tears streaming down his face, mixing in with the older women's blood.
He took her shoulders, gently shaking her to try and get her too wake, though the shaking only started to become more violent as he became more determined.
Finally, a small groan immetted from his mother's mouth before her eyes slowly looked at her poor worried son's face.
Even though she was in this state because of him, she would never stop loving her son.
"Hey stop the shaking.." She said; her voice raspy and clearly pained. She forced a small chuckle, hoping to make Tommy feel somewhat better.
"Momma... what happened to you?" The boy asked as tears continued to fall down his cheeks.
"Oh well... it was some man. I protected you like I always said I would, right?" She responded, soon feeling his arms gently wrapping around her. She couldn't hide a small smile as she was able to muster up enough energy to hug him back.
Suddenly, Tommy shot up from his bed. Chest rising and falling rapidly from the horrid dream he just had. He put a hand to his face, noticing that his cheeks were wet.
"Tears? Why the hell would I be crying now? Was it the dream?" He asked himself with a small scoff.
"Nevermind that. I don't care anyway." He added, sounding all arrogant and slightly frustrated or maybe annoyed like he normally sounded.
"Great. Now I'm all pissed off because of that stupid nightmare!" The man whisper-shouted as it was still late in the night.
He soon tossed the blankets away and slipped himself from the mattress, heading for the exit of the room.
"Screw this." Tommy mumbled as he left the bedroom and headed for the front door of the apartment.
I want to start writing an original story with my own characters so damn badly. But I can't ever bring myself to do it. I always cringe and I hate it. I want to be proud of my work. I want others to love my characters (I know it sounds selfish. I'm really sorry) and if I write and keep up the story(ies), then people may start liking them. But I just never have the courage. It's so frustrating.
Okay. The main reason for this small rant is to ask anyone if they have an advice or suggestions to help out. Thank you :)
Defiant whumpees make me weak. Always gives me immediate whumperflies. So can I ask anyone, if you'd like of course, to write any stories with defiant whumpees? I'm sorry if it says selfish and if people don't like me asking, I'll take this down :)
All I ask for is a barely conscious and bloodied whumpee, laying on cement while it's pouring rain.
Hear me out: A Caretaker that is making their way to some destination; it's pouring like no tomorrow. An umbrella is in one hand while the other is holding their coat as closed as they could in attempts to get warm from the cold water around them.
Suddenly, they see something in the distance. It didn't catch their attention as much at first but, out of curiosity, they approach it. They assumed it was just a mud puddle maybe?
But as they get closer to it, they realize that it's red. A dark, crimson red.
"Holy shit." They say as they realize it's blood. Without another thought, they quicken their pace towards the alley. Soon, when rounding the alley corner, they find the source of the spilt blood.
Caretaker lets out a quiet but shocked, "oh my God." As they find a barely conscious, bleeding out Whumpee.
They drop their umbrella and rush to the other's side.
Caretaker slowly rolls the Whumpee onto their back, the Whumpee letting out a pained groan in response. They've been seriously injured. A terrible and gashing wound pours blood from the abdomen.
"Oh God. Okay okay... hey you'll be fine, okay? Just don't close your eyes." The Caretaker tells the stranger that was bleeding out before them.
"Put pressure on the wound." They told themselves outloud as they took off their jacket and place ot over the wound.
"I'm so sorry if this hurts." They say before pressing down onto the wound. The Whumpee lets out a string of groans, moans and whines from the pain.
Rain continued to pour onto and around the two. Blood stained Caretaker's clothes as the water spread the red liquid around them.
"Oh jesus. Okay okay this will be fine. No no don't close your eyes! I'm calling the police, okay? You'll be fine." The Caretaker reassures the stranger as they pull their phone out; raindrops splashing onto the screen, making it hard to press any buttons.
"C'mon.. c'mon!" They say, frustrated. But soon enough, they have the police on their way. Everything will just be fine. Right?
"I realized," A voice full of nothing but malice had spoken out. The noise bouncing off the walls of the open but old building.
"At first, I didn't go all out. Because I saw you, as the same as me. A living person. But then, I started to see you as a feral animal; something I need to put down for everyone's own good. And with that mindset, I thought, why not make it a little game to get some enjoyment out of it too?"
Person A hid themselves behind one if the many large cement pillars, listening to these words being told to them carefully.
"If I had gone all out before, you'd already be six feet under, you know."
A's breathing began to pick up; their heart feeling almost as if it was about to burst from their chest. The blood rushing in their ears was becoming so loud it was hard to hear their own thoughts.
"You're-" A had begun to speak up finally, unable to keep themselves quiet any longer as they heard these sick words coming from their enemy. But almost immediately, a gun had been fired. Rubble from the pillar went flying as a bullet had implanted itself near where A was.
A quickly had ran off in the opposite direction the bullet had come, while also trying to be as quiet and cautious they could be. The large building they were in luckily had a few big supply cars they could hide themselves behind temporarily.
Daringly, A just barely peeked out behind the cars to see if they could see their rival stalking around, like a predator searching for their prey.
But, nothing. They didn't see nor even hear anyone or anything else. That made them only more paranoid.
After a moment of observing around in hopes they'd see something, they realized. Their eyes widened before they turned to look ahead of them.
That's when they found themselves staring down the barrel of a gun.
"Found ya. You know you really have to be more careful when trying to hide in a place like this."
A knew they wouldn't be able to run, not without sustaining an injury at the very least and that would only slow them down while trying to escape this sickening place.
So, the next option was to fight. At least buy themselves some time to get far enough away.
They grabbed at the gun's berral and pulled. They didn't expect the other to let go to easily, which is what they were counting on.
The sudden pull had caused their opponent to stumbke forward. They were close enough so that A could land a decent punch against them.
Though, when they had landed the punch, to their horror, they realized that it was a lot weaker than they were hoping. And that's when they noticed the blood that stained their hand. When did that happened? What was even the source of the crimson blood?
"You didn't realize?" Their opponent said with a chuckle, seeing A's expression had changed.
A looked at their hand befire trailing their eyes further and further up their arm.
Then they finally noticed the open wound in their shoulder. Did that happen back at the pillar? They thought that the cement was the only thing that was his. They assumed that the rushing adrenaline burning in their veins must have masked the pain of the injury.
A slowly turned their attention back up at the enemy before them. A cruel smile plastered on their expression.
"I'll give you to the count of three. Then, I'll let you try and escape again. Lets see how long it takes before you drop."
This was all just some sort of sick game they were trapped within, wasn't it?