#bastard whumpee

[whumblr]

"You should kneel before your master."

- "My what now?!"

- "Sure, but I don't think it will fix you."

- "No <3"

- "If you find him, let me know, would you."

- "oH yEs mAsTeR wHaTEvEr YoU SaY."

[scumashling]

Thooughts on Redo of Healer/A Whump Rewrite

CW: mentions of abuse, physical torture, noncon, misogyny, homophobia and slavery below

Incoming long post. It does have a point.

So, awhile back before I made this account I decided to do an endurance watch of a somewhat infamous anime entitled Redo of Healer. For those of you blessed with ignorance, Redo is a dark fantasy harem romance/rape revenge story based on the light novel of the same name by Rui Tsukiyo.

Set in the Kingdom of Jioral, a kingdom currently at war with the Demon population and built on the slave trade of the demi human population, the story follows Keyaru, a Healing class hero, who after 4 years of being enslaved for his uniquely miraculous abilities, (and enduring a fuck ton of emotional, physical and sexual abuse along the way) embarks on a brutal quest for revenge against his sadistic former party members/tormentors, (Bullet the Cannon Hero, Blade the Sword Hero, and most prevalently, Princess Flare, the Magician Hero who orchestrated his drugging and imprisonment.)

He gets Flare first, escaping prison, cornering her in her own soundproof bedroom, and proceeding to torture her physically and eventually violently raping her. So, now that he's gotten his revenge, does he just kill her? Call it a day and leave her a broken, ruined mess like she did to him? I mean. What more could he possibly do to bring her lower?

He changes both their faces, fakes both their deaths, erases her memories, and when she comes too, he tells his named is Keyaruga (groan) her she's his loyal attendant and lover, dubs her Freiya, and immediately coerces her into having sex with him. They then embark on a journey to destroy the Kingdom she doesn't know is hers.

Along the way, he slowly begins recruiting more girls into this party/builds a harem, often by coercive or outright nonconsensual mean like drugging/brainwashing and having a lot of sex with

Setsuna- A slave demi human wolf girl named that he purchases as a battle slave/it's okay she wants to be a slave because he's just so great

Kureha- A knight of the Kingdom who Keyaruga who he drugs and raped after she attacks him

Eve-a extremely powerful demon girl. The only one he doesn't coerce into fucking him

(note: below is all my subjective opinion.)

I wanna stress that while it is a very Whump heavy story, Redo is extremely Not Good and I cannot recommend it. And I'm not just saying that because it's a rape porn with high production values (though it has a pretty intolerable amount of extremely brutal rape for anyone who either doesn't have a hardcore CNC kink or who's brain isn't broken from reading violent fanfiction at age 13 like yours truly),it is genuinely one of the worst written pieces of fiction I've ever read. The pacing is terrible, the magic system is generic , the dialogue is atrocious, try character designs are so mediocre ( wow another hot girl with gigantic tits? How did you come up with that idea?!), the villains are all vile depraved power tripping rapist idiots who immediately get their comeuppance by the equally vile protagonist, who is always one step ahead is also so insufferably smug. Its also extremely edgy and lazy in regards to how it treats shit like slavery (pure shock value pretty much,). Because plot and theme is not the point though, the torture porn is.

Redo of Healer is also, and I cannot stress this enough, extremely extremely homophobic ( if you disagree that's fine you're allowed to be wrong <3) I won't go into it too much bc this post is already long but Blades character can be be described as every horrible stereotypes about lesbians stacked on top of each other in a trench coat. The author is so transparently trying to offend me by writing her this way that she actually has the opposite effect and gives me the giggles. Which now that I type that out is kind how I feel about the whole story. it's a pretty terribly male power fantasy about a terrible violent man who sexually tortures slightly more terrible violent men and women. And quite frankly, when I watching it , all I could think was "I could write this so much better."

Because see, even though everything I said before about redo is true, i also find it incredibly interesting:

There are a lot of Whump tropes in redo. Slavery, dehumanization, beatings, bastards Whumpees getting revenge on lady Whumpers, conditioning I think? intimate and sadistic whumpers, mind control whump, non consensual drugging, human pets. Theres prob more I forgot. They aren't handled well but they are there.

I love the rape revenge genre. I have vivid memories of getting together with my teen girls friends and watching Jennifer Hills and Hailey Stark tear apart some bastards. Based shit.

Redo is the first male victim on female perpetrator rape revenge media I've come across. it is also, the first I've seen where a victim makes their rapist into a willing sex slave as part of their revenge.

There are story elements and themes that do hold potential, specifically around power and the places lines between victim and abuser get blurry. Eg: Keyarga assumes locking away Flare's memories has made her into a new person, because Freiya is so sweet, and Flare is an abusive bitch. He eventually has to come to terms with the fact that he didn't erase Flare. They are they same person. Freiya is sweet because she has none of Flares life experience, and is with someone who shows her love and appreciation. More if this instead of a smug asshole fucking hot women because he can

When I found myself disgusted I briefly entertained the thought that I might be sexist. analyzing that thought for more then a minute I realized that ridiculous. I don't hate it for being a male rape revenge, I hate it because it's a male power fantasy. And I hate it because of Keyarga. Because he is a man who is constantly drugging and brainwashing recruiting women who cross him into his slave battle harem, all of whom he rapes has sex with aside from Eve, and even if he's not framed as a good person, he's framed as a badass. People who feel entitled to hurt others because they were hurt are not badass. They are pathetic. And more importantly, they are broken. Any story about people like him worth it's salt with acknowledge that.

TLDR I am re writing Redo Of Healer as a Serious Story about a Bastard Whumpee Who Brainwashes and Enslaves his Whumper, and Falls in love with her in the process.

It's still in its early stages. I have some picrews, some plot outlining and the basic jist of how I want to change about the characters and what I want to keep, and my partner, who's more familiar with fantasy RPG stuff, is helping me develop the magic system into something more interesting. But I do want to thank this community because I've been stewing on this horrifying story about torture and the nature of power for so long wondering who would want to read it and now that I've learned of Whump I know there is actually a chance that there is an audience.

Anyway, I've been typing way too long. I will post more about this at another time.

Also a reminder, I am new to writblr and to tumblr in general. Im still finding my footing in terms of some of the functions of the site and the etiquette/social norms/terminology, or like, the ways people follow each other's writing? Idk where I'm going with this just please keep that in mind

[3-2-whump]

Wrong Turn

<prev next>

Divine Judgment comes

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz , this chapter would not be what it is without you beta-ing for it!

Obligatory Author's Note: So, it's pretty obvious we're nearing the end of Tom's story, but at this point, it's pretty open ended. If you'd like to stop here and imagine he mansplains-manipulates-manslaughters his way outta this trap, then by all means go ahead. Fanfiction is a thing, canon divergence is a thing, I encourage it, if anything! Just, you know, tag me or let me know in some way. But let's get right to it!

TW/CW: slave whump, intimate whumper, (brief) dehumanization, whumper turned whumpee, kidnapping, leaving off on a cliffhanger

Thomas J Costa, you are a fucking genius, the mob boss thought to himself. This was one of the best two weeks of his and Khaled’s shared life together. Two weeks of coming home to a sparkling clean penthouse, a plate of either half-cooked or slightly scorched food (hey, the boy was trying), and a submissive bedmate made him perversely wonder why he didn’t try this scare tactic sooner.

He checked his watch. It was only half an hour until he’d usually leave for home, but he decided he’d been at work long enough that day. Just as he was about to log off of his desktop, an email of high priority chimed. He opened it, then groaned. That meeting with the stakeholders of White Shore Resort: Miami was tonight, and he’d completely forgot. As much as he’d rather not do it tonight, he did not need to burn this bridge, of all bridges. So, with a reluctant sigh, Thomas put on his coat and shot a text home. He’d left Khaled with the spare cellphone he’d given him when he was in the hospital that one time, a dense brick of a device that could only perform basic call, text, and photo taking tasks, specifically to send him messages like these.

To: Holes Forgot about a meeting I have tonight. Be home late. Wait for me.

With that sent, he tucked his phone into his coat pocket and begrudgingly left.

The boss was a little more than surprised to find his car keyed and his tires slashed. What surprise he did feel was quickly replaced with burning rage as he marched his way to the guard shack and banged on the door. “Nico!”

Michael’s nephew opened the door, brown hair amess and blinking in confusion as if he had just woken up from a nap. “Boss? What’s up, what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling his coat around him.

“Don’t even - somebody’s slashed my tires on your watch!” Thomas grabbed Nico by the arm and yanked him along across the parking lot. He practically threw the young guard at the defaced car. “Look at this! Did you see who did this? What the fuck am I even paying you for if you don’t even know who did this?!” he roared.

“Shit man, I-I’m sorry! What can I do to fix this?” Nico asked.

Tom checked his watch again. Despite the meeting being on the other side of the city, and the whole setback with his car, he knew he could still make it. “You,” he decided, “are going to drive me! No arguments, let’s go!”

Nico’s mouth opened and closed mutely like a fish before he threw up his hands in a shrug.

It was a very awkward drive in Nico Clemenza’s cluttered Jeep. Some people kept the interior of their cars spotless, some people treated the interior of their cars like a large storage locker, and it became very clear which one Nico was that evening. Thomas must have counted at least three first-draft essays, one notebook, four pairs of unwashed athletic clothes, and a pair of sneakers back there. At least the weather was cold enough out that they didn’t stink, which was a small mercy of being trapped in such a disgusting car. He wanted to retch, but this was his best and quickest option to get to that meeting on time. Maybe I’ll just make the kid drop me off a couple blocks away, and I can walk there, he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Nico himself seemed visibly on edge as he drove stiffly and uncomfortably with the boss in his car. It was enough to make himself feel tense. Thomas sighed. “Look, Nico, bud, I know you don’t necessarily approve of how I handle your dear little friend, but there is no reason why things have to be so tense between us personally,” he said. “I’ve never actually done anything to you, have I? Like, I’ve never physically harmed you or nothing. And I’m on great terms with Bennie and Michael, so why don’t you just relax a bit? I’m not gonna kill you, I swear.”

Nico nervously glanced at him before focusing back on the road. Thomas shook his head. There was an impassible power barrier between himself and some of the younger guys in the organization, one that wasn’t there before he became the boss nearly eight years ago. It made people act all fake and freak out over little things as they forgot that he was just a person, too; like how Nico completely missed the exit they needed to take.

“Hey, wait, the Antechamber Taphouse was back that way,” he reminded him. Nico kept driving, not responding as his eyes remained fixed on an unseen destination. “Nico, hey, Nico!” Tom snapped his fingers in front of the driver’s face, hoping to get his attention. “Nico, you missed it!”

“No I didn’t, because that’s not where we’re going,” Nico relied cryptically.

“Yes, it is, though, I told you we were going there!” He brought this fingers up to Nico’s temple and poked at it. “What’s wrong with you?” Nico did not respond as he pulled off at the next exit and drove them further from Thomas’ intended destination. “Take a left, and another left,” he instructed. They might just be able to make it to the taphouse if they took the detour Thomas knew about.

Nico pulled off at the next exit and ran every red light as he took the exact opposite directions, driving them closer to their unknown destination. The passenger gave up dictating directions once he realized this dumb fuck behind the wheel wasn’t going to listen to him. Whether it was because Nico didn’t know the area and was stubborn enough to spurn all directions, there was not much Thomas could do until they got where they needed to be. With a final grumble, he whipped out his phone and started sorting through emails. Confirmation of reservation, reminder of reservation, junk mail, junk mail, junk –ooh, a user called ‘there-a-Glock-in-my-sock-85’ responded to my Reddit question!

It was only once the car came to a stop and parked that he looked up from his phone. Far from the urban core of his intended destination, he found them parked at the docks, just outside the empty warehouses. ‘Something is wrong’ seemed like the understatement of the moment here as Thomas tried to determine Nico’s true intentions. 

Then, the door to one of the warehouses creaked open. Nico unlocked the doors and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Alright, sir, come with me,” he said.

“Where are we?” he asked, unbuckling his own seatbelt.

Nico did not respond, only silently opening the door of the car as he pivoted his body to get out. The boss finally figured out there was something much larger at play. He thought about the young guard’s sketchy demeanor and their conveniently desolate location before remembering what Nico had said the last day he saw Khaled.

“But, he didn’t do it, sir! He had no part in it! I can prove it, just listen to me!”

His jaw dropped as he made the connection. “Wait a minute, you were the one who put that hit out on me last summer?!” The lack of an answer was all the confirmation the boss needed. “Oh, you little shit!” Thomas grabbed Nico by the shirt collar and yanked him away from the door. He pulled Nico by the back of his hair and slammed his face into the dash board –once, twice, and one more time for good measure before pushing Nico out the open door and crawling into the driver’s seat himself. He was just about to close the door of the Jeep and lock it until a chillingly cheerful voice called out from the shadows.

“Where you going off to, man? You just got here!”

Tom immediately unsheathed his pistol, aiming at the source of the voice amongst the dark. A pair of cat-like golden eyes gleamed in the darkness as the boss of Juicio Divino emerged like a phantom from the dark warehouse entrance. Six more phantoms materialized alongside him with their own weapons drawn and aimed at the Costa boss. Julio’s eyes briefly flickered down to his accomplice who’d been thrown out of the car before fixing back on Thomas again. He lazily grinned, his teeth shining unnaturally white in the dark night. “Why don’t you step out of the vehicle and come on in here?” It did not sound like a request. Six guns remained trained on his body behind the windshield.

Thomas growled like a cornered animal as he reluctantly set his gun on the dashboard, got out of the car, and put his hands up. Attacking Julio directly would guarantee he’d be killed, but surrendering and giving them what they wanted now would at least open an opportunity to gain the upper hand later, he reasoned. Although he doubted this wild cat would ever give him the chance.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump , @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The caretaker had found the whumpee by complete accident, but of course they couldn’t just leave them with someone like the whumper- but of course, rescue wasn’t easy. The whumpee would hiss and bite them at every turn, the caretaker tried their best to explain that they only wanted to help, but any move they made just made the whumpee think they were being aggressive.

[avvail-whumps]

‘guns for hire’ — hell house #20

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: multiple whumpers, sadistic whumpers, nailed to the ground, blood loss, gunshot wounds, beating, knife wounds, whumper sort of caretaking, mentioned (and almost) non-con (nothing explicit), non-con touching (not sexual), waterboarding, cigerette burn, mention of attempted suicide

Leo was confident he was going to die when he was left on the ground.

Time wasn’t distinct, and nor was it manageable, losing it just as easily the moment his weary eyes even found the energy to pry themselves open. Being awake was just as unbearable as the inevitable reality that his legs had been shot, and his hands had been nailed against the ground.

An unbearable wave of dizziness smacked into him anytime he tried to lift his head, stuffed with cotton. His breathing was nothing but short spurts, unable to conjure the energy to do anything else.

Sometimes, when Bran wandered into the kitchen for a beer, he’d make a clear point of crushing the bullet wound on his leg for good measure, and Leo’s vision would spark white in agony.

It was only when the neutral face of Beer came into his view that Leo’s clammy, uncoloured face was able to find the energy to move. He’d come with a hammer in his hand, and Leo’s palms immediately flared from the memory.

His face wrinkled as a quiet whimper escaped, and his head tilted away from the man. He didn’t think he’d be able to take any more nails in his body, or pain in general. He wouldn’t be able to stomach it, unless they wanted his aching, empty belly to spill it’s contents on the floor.

Beer raised a brow, his eyes flickering to the hammer, and then the nails. He kneeled down beside him, seemingly unbothered he was stepping in slippery blood. From the kitchen door, sipping a beer, Bran sneered at him.

“You ain’t no fun.”

Using the forked end of the hammer, Beer hooked it between the nail, and began to pry it out with a firm jerk. Leo’s lips quivered open with a pained whine, eyes watering.

“Do you want him to die?” Beer countered sternly, and there was even a hint of annoyance in his eyes as he glanced up at Bran. “Roy won’t hesitate to kill you if you’re responsible, you know. We all know that. I wouldn’t test his patience.”

Bran took a long sip of his beer, and with a sickening squish, the nail tore from his hand. His arm lay there limply, a strangled cry choking in his throat. He feebly tried to move away from Beer’s grip, but the other had no problem preparing to dig out the second nail.

“Like I said before,” he sneered. “Roy ain’t here, Joey.”

“And when he is?” The man countered. Leo could barely register their conversation, his vision blurring through layers of static as the nail wedged uncomfortably out of his hand. An exhausted sob escaped his lips. Bran’s eyes narrowed.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want with him,” the man sneered. “He’ll live. Roy doesn’t need to get his balls in a twist, and neither do you. He told us not to kill him, and does he look dead to you?”

Joey didn’t respond. He simply grabbed Leo’e arm, and hurled him up off the ground. The pain in his legs surged like fire from the sudden movement, but he couldn’t even cling onto anything with the numb throbbing in his hands. Fresh blood was streaming down arms, accompanied by tears tracking down his face and running through the dried blood.

“He will be if you keep this up,” he mumbled. “When Roy comes back and he finds it doesn’t sit right with him that other people are messing with his things, you know you’ll be the first.”

Bran scoffed. “Go on. Keep suckin’ up to the maniac. He ain’t care as long as his little pet is alive.”

Joey slowly made his way up the stairs. “I don’t think so.”

He took a wild guess as to where Leo’s room was. He felt his back hitting the bedsheets, sucking in a sharp hiss through his teeth as the pain sparked to life again. He was sure he lost time between the finger light touches on his body, because the next time he woke up, the dizziness had somewhat subsided and his breathing had returned back to normal.

His legs and hands had been bandaged up, and he was even able to flex his tingling fingers. He was alone in his room, and he was sure he was stocked on a lot of painkillers, because he couldn’t help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle.

Night came and went, and Leo slept through most of the day. In the afternoon when he’d shakily taken more painkillers, he realised that he was ultimately failing to complete the rule that Roy had implemented. He hadn’t cooked at all for them — he could hardly even hold a cup with the state of his hands, let alone stand around on his legs over a hot stove. Using crutches was impossible.

The secretary didn’t get much peace for a while.

Mercenary after mercenary would come into his room, and Leo often found himself meeting their fists or their ruthless beatings. Bran liked doing that the most, making it hurt enough but avoiding his wounds to keep him conscious for long enough. Finger often liked to use little knives or daggers and glide them along his skin to watch him squirm. He’d one time been abruptly ripped from unconsciousness and found the fingerless man in the midst of unbuttoning his pants. He was almost relieved and utterly sickened when he’d stopped to complain he would have preferred if he’d stayed asleep.

Beard wasn’t so much interested, though Leo had been dragged out of his room multiple times by him and abruptly thrown into whatever room the others were in. Although Bran was huge and meaty, his hits like being pummeled with a brick wall, there was something horrific about Beard’s methods. He usually had an audience, and Leo was forced to listen to the humiliating jeers of the other men in the background.

Often his time felt like torture.

Secured tightly to a chair, his bruises and cuts that had been left to bloom on his skin irritatied by the raw bite of the ropes. A rag over his face, and the rush of cold water that made it impossible to breathe. The suffocation that had made his mind short circuit and his lungs burn like fire. No matter how much he’d writhe and thrash, he could never breathe through the water soaked cloth over his face.

Leo just wanted to go home. The echoes of the men’s degrading words and heckles kept him awake when he needed sleep the most. The only rest he got was when the passed out from the pain or the exhaustion.

Joey didn’t bother him like the others, but he often joined in sometimes on their jeers and would be more than happy to watch when Beard wanted to put on a show. He had put out a cigerette on his shoulder one time, the hot ash searing through his skin, but other than that, the mercenary would sometimes patch up his wounds and feed him a little something when he was on the brink of collapse, ensuring he stayed alive just enough for their torure to continue.

In his state, Leo couldn’t even walk by himself.

It was pathetic. It made him feel horrible, and weak.

He barely ever made it to the bedroom; he would usually be left wheezing in whichever room he was dragged into, not even able to muster the strength to get to his feet. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Roy had left. Maybe weeks. Maybe a month. He just knew he couldn’t take much more.

One time, Leo made it into the kitchen. The tiles were cold under his battered limbs, but he’d shakily tugged open the drawer and pulled out a big knife. It clattered loudly to the ground, his hands too weak to barely even grasp onto it. When he did, the door creaked open.

It was Joey. He was looking at him with a cold glint in his eyes.

“You won’t be able to do any damage to all four of us in that state,” he murmurs dryly, and Leo just barely squints through the spots on his vision. Even though he’s leaning on the counter, he hasn’t stood on his feet this long.

“You’re always saying that Roy said I can’t die,” he wheezes. The knife trembled in his hands, eyes burning with tears. “So I’ll kill myself.”

Joey doesn’t react to the words. Leo can feel himself shaking, tears leaking down his cheeks. Maybe he won’t ever see his father again, but at least he’ll be free from this hellhole. Maybe Roy will kill them for breaking his rules. The very idea makes his heart squeeze painfully. He keeps the knife pointed at Joey anyway, trying to fight the crippling fear in his stomach.

“Do you think you can do that?”

No, Leo thinks to himself, stuttering on a sob. The thought of plunging that knife into his body makes his cells scream in terror. He’s a coward.

“I just want to go home,” he sobs, chest stuttering. He’s so exhausted. “I just want this to end.”

Joey doesn’t say anything. He strolls up to him and takes the knife from his weak fingers, putting it back in the drawer. If Roy was here, he would probably be sinking into the soothing whisper of his voice, or melting at his warm embrace. Maybe running his hands through his hair, or gently stroking away his tears. Leo needed something. He needed anything to keep him going.

“I won’t tell the others about this,” Joey says, his voice as emotionless as ever. “Don’t pull this stunt if you won’t go through with it. You’ll get yourself into more trouble.”

Leo aches for anything. Anything at all.

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235

[oddsconvert]

Compromising positions?! 👀🤨 Felix is a nasty man

Truly, a sick and nasty man - I loathe him (I created him 🤪😫). Josh in his most vulnerable and terrifying moments, and Felix snapping photos so he can remember how 'breathtaking' he looked 🤢 My poor boy would have no idea the pictures even existed. He'd find pictures of before he was taken too, him showering in his apartment. Out walking his dog. So damn violating.

[silversanimewhump]

Akashic Records of Bastard Magic Instructor

Episode 8

More like this

[0meatloaf0]

You hate me so much, don't you? Why don't you just shoot me, then?

Remy (c) bittersweet-fl0wer Chromos (c) me: c'mon, love. make this easy for the both of us and tell me you hate me

[whumpasaurus101]

Like Father, Like Son

THIS ONE IS A BIT LONGER THAN THE OTHERS CAUSE I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY-

SORRY IF THERES ERRORS I THINK I FIXED MOST OF THEM THOUGH-

---

From the minute Asher woke up, he knew he was quite frankly, fucked. Rodger was in one of his shitty moods, having a hissy fit over god knows what.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door, “Get up, we have guests.”

“You know, normal people knock.”

Rodger stormed over to the bed, striking Asher hard across the face before grabbing him by a fistful of the hair, “I don’t have the time, nor patience for any of your talking back today, do you hear me?!?” He snarled against Asher’s ear.

Asher was barely fazed as he blinked up at the man, “I mean… you never really do-“ That’s when Rodger lost it. He flung Asher to the ground in a haste, “Let me make myself very clear,” Rodger growled, stepping forward and grabbing the front of Asher’s shirt. He hauled him up until Asher was back standing and quickly slammed him against the wall, leaning in close, “I will not hear any talking back from you. If I do, I swear to you, Asher, I will make you scream until your vocal chords are no more, am I understood?”

Asher wheezed out a breath. Normally Rodger would be too dumb to even come up with a threat, but looking into Rodger’s eyes -which he’d rather not do- Asher could tell Rodger was serious. All he managed was a slight nod but Rodger’s grip against him didn’t allow him to nod much.

Rodger held his gaze before dropping him to the ground, “Get changed, I left clothes in your bathroom. Be ready in ten and make sure you look perfect.” He left before Asher could even fit in a snarky comment. Asher gave himself a moment, resting his head against the wall as he let out a shaky sigh, waiting for the world to stop spinning. Once he managed to get to his feet, he took the quickest shower he could and slipped into his usual outfit for when guests came over. Black trousers, a belt, and a white button-up shirt.

He looked in the mirror, straightening out his shirt before ruffling his damp hair. He noted how long it was getting, but that's the thing, Rodger liked it to be long enough to grab so he could just fling Asher around the place. Just as he started to brush his teeth, Rodger burst through, “Come on, they’ll be here any time now!!!”

Asher simply rolled his eyes, spitting into the sink before continuing to brush his teeth, ignoring Rodger who simply frowned and fixed Asher’s hair to his liking. Asher clung tightly to his toothbrush as he resisted the urge to shove Rodger away. Then Rodger tsked, reaching his arms around Asher and unbuttoned the first two buttons of Asher’s shirt. That made Asher spit out his toothpaste before shoving Rodger away, “Fuck off, I can look after myself.”

Rodger raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, “Watch it.” Was all he growled before walking out, “Get downstairs, I made breakfast.” 

Asher’s stomach growled at the mention of food. He finished brushing his teeth before pacing to the kitchen, eyes falling to the two plates on the table. “Take a seat.”

It had been a while since Rodger and Asher sat at a table together for breakfast. He normally would be forced to kneel beside Roder, forced to eat out of Rodger’s palm. And if he didn't? Then he got nothing. So Asher was slightly hesitant sitting down. 

“Pancake?” Asher asked, looking from his plate to Rodger, remembering all his chats with Jack about pancakes. Rodger nodded, ruffling Asher’s hair, “Look at you learning things!” For the first time in a while, Asher didn’t want to bite Rodger’s hand off, but he gave a quiet growl in warning. 

“Don't get any butter on your shirt or I swear to god-” “I knowww, I knowww,” Asher groaned, “I swear you can’t go five minutes without using some random threat in your sentence” Just before Asher could take another bite from his pancake, Rodger smacked upside Asher’s head.

“Hurry up and eat.”

Asher just rolled his eyes, finishing off his breakfast. It was a few minutes later until he dared to ask Rodger a question, “Who’s coming over?”

Rodger sat down, sipping from his glass of orange juice- the ice cubes clinking against each other, “None of you business.” Asher scoffed, “Well, from how you're acting, you’d think your father was coming ove-”

Asher was soon cut off as he was backhanded across the face.

“Ah,” Asher sighed, “I now know who’s coming over. Man, I mean, it explains why you’ve been such a di-” Asher quickly stopped himself from talking, flinching as Rodger pulled back his hand, stopping just before he slapped him.

Rodger’s eyes slightly widened as he heard the doorbell ringing and Asher chuckled quietly, “I bet you can't wait for him to meet me.” Rodger stood up straight, completely ignoring him as he walked to the front door. Asher thought he could be decent enough so he put both of their plates into the dishwasher before standing at the doorway, nervously cracking his knuckles as he waited.

The man was a stout man, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and short pepper and salt coloured hair. He was just under Asher’s height but Asher could tell this man thought he had everybody and everyone under him.

Behind him, followed a blonde haired lady. Walking in heels that were way too tall for her to walk in as she shimmied in. Her nails were long but unlike Alicia, they were bright pink. She smiled brightly, kissing Rodger on the cheek. As the three grew closer, Asher was able to catch a bit more as to what they were saying, but not much.

“Dad, Kimberly, this is Asher, he’s still in training right now-” lie “but he seems to be improving!” Lie. “Asher, this is my dad, Nikos, but you will refer him to sir, alright?” 

The man held out his hand, Asher just blankly stared at it, looking to Rodger with furrowed eyebrows. Rodger rolled his eyes with a growl, his face blushing slightly in embarrassment, “Shake his hand, mutt-” He quickly looked up to his father apologetically, “He doesn't really have much…common sense…”

The man gave Rodger a disapproving look before it moved to Asher. Although Asher’s father looked quite similar to Rodger, Asher felt slightly intimidated by the man. He forced himself not to take a stepback as he took in a shaky breath, steadying himself. 

“What’s he good for?” The man asked, eyes not leaving Asher’s as he spoke to Rodger. Asher went to speak but Rodger subtly jabbed him in the side, flashing him a glare in warning.

“Uhm… well he competes in fights in our local gym which Antonio runs.”

Asher felt the man’s eyes look him up and down once as he spoke, “Is he any good?”

“Yeah! He’s won about ninety percent of his matches.” Lie.

“Well then, I’ll have to come watch one of them!!!”

Rodger jabbed at Asher’s side once more as Asher snorted a laugh, “Will you excuse us a moment?” Rodger didn't wait for a response before grabbing Asher by the arm and dragging him out to the hall. Asher was smirking, holding in a laugh as he watched the vein on Rodger’s forehead fully popped out. 

He was soon snapped back to reality though when Rodger slapped him hard across the face, “Asher, I swear to fucking god, if you don't watch your fucking mouth, you and I are going to have a problem. I am asking you to behave just for while my father’s here…I am asking for this one thing!!! I never a-”

“Oh please!” Asher scoffed, “How many fucking times do I have to tell you this, I’m not your fucking ‘pet’-,” He spat, taking a step towards Rodger and shoving him back as he jabbed a finger against Rodger’s chest, “-Nor will I ever be your pet. So fuck right off an-”

“Is there a problem?”

Asher froze for a moment, his back seizing up as he clenched his jaw. He noticed how Rodger also tensed. “N-no, father, I-”

“Don’t lie to me, Rodger.”

“I- Y-you…I-” Rodger sighed, clicking his tongue as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He let out a final sigh of frustration before speaking, “Asher…has some… behavior issues. He..doesn’t exactly… know his place.”

“Is that true?” Nikos asked. Asher’s back was still facing him, Asher rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Listen, man, I don't have a ‘place’, your son is fucked up- which, let's be honest, is most likely your fault,” Asher turned around to face Nikos, smile painting his lips as he dared to take a step closer, “You’re all the same. Rich, stuck up people who are so far up their asses that they forget how to act like a decent human fucking be-”

“-Aiden Williams.”

Asher froze, feeling his stomach flip as the colour drained from his face, “Wh-what..?”

“Ah,” Nikos smiled, “So you are familiar with the name.”

“What’s it to you?” Asher growled, eyes hardening.

This time it was Nikos’ turn to take a step forward, smirking when Asher couldn't help but step backwards with a gulp. “Easy, pup,” Niko smirked, “Aiden Williams,” He hummed. Asher growled, grabbing two fistfulls of Niko’s waistcoat, “Stop fucking saying his name,” Asher roared, only to be thrown a left hook which sent him flying, sprawled onto the floor with a loud thud.

“I would watch your mouth, if I were you,” Niko hummed, advancing towards the boy with long strides. Asher groaned, curling in on himself, “G-good thing you're not me then..” A hand roughly carded through his curls, quickly tightening into a fist as his head was yanked up. A cry escaped Asher, his eyes unwillingly meeting Niko’s cold gaze. 

“‘M g-gonna get sss-sick-” Asher whimpered.

Rodger watched from a distance, still slightly digesting what was happening. He knew he couldn’t interfere or try to stop Nikos. “Father..I-”

“Quiet,” Nikos turned back to Asher, smirking as he watched blood roll down Asher’s chin from his lip, “Aiden was never fond of that busted lip, hm?” Asher reeled, trying to pry Nikos’ hand from his hair, “I’m warning you, shut your fucking mouth,” He growled, only to be slammed face-first into the wall.

Ruining your pretty perfect face…

Watch it, your getting blood on the carpet.

No one will ever love you when you look all roughed up like that, Danny.

Once he was let go, Asher’s glazed-over eyes blinked once, twice, before he let out a groan, “Ffff-fuck….” He rolled onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling, groaning as Niko soon stepped into his view, letting out a sigh of disspointment, “He never quite liked that bad language of yours either…”

Asher could practically feel the glass shards in his mouth… 

Hold still, Danny. Don't you prefer this? So much more quiet, so well behaved. No bad evil language, juuuuuust perfect, my dove.

A shudder ran through Ashers spine with a whimper, a tear slowly falling down his cheek as he let out a sob, “Ho-how do you kn-know all this?” Asher rasped, trying to remind himself who he's with. Aiden wasn't here. He was safe.

“There’s a reason I haven't met you sooner, Asher. I like to do my research. When Aiden heard that my son now owned you, he just insisted on a visit.”

Asher’s head snapped to Rodger, desperate for his father to be lying. 

“F-father… what did you do..?”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Nikos beamed, “Our guest has arrived.”

Asher was-for the first time in a while- lost for words. Tears streamed down his face. Nononono this can’t be true, this couldn't be happening!!!

Nikos rushed to the door, leaving both Asher and Rodger in shocked silence. The radiators’ humming were the only sound to be hear before a voice that made Asher feel sick to his stomach sounded from the doorway.

“Oh, my dove, how I have missed you!!!”

---

Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @tears-and-lilies @whumpkinpie @shywhumpauthor @thecursedscribbler @whump-queen (LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED OR REMOVED O(∩_∩)O )

[squidkid15]

The Mayor as whumper and Macaque as whumpee, you say? 👀

BOY ANON U BETTER BE CAREFUL U DON'T ACTIVATE MY UNSKIPPABLE CUTSCENE

[whumblr]

Whump dialogue #62

"Thanks man, I had this awful crick in my neck that just wouldn’t--"

Another punch cut him right off, snapped his head violently to the side.

"Ah shit." He groaned, more in annoyance than in pain, and spit a glob of blood out. "Now it's back again. Could you...? Another maybe? From the left?"

[as-a-matter-of-whump]

Oh? Oh?? Is the bastard’s birthday? I wish him a happy birthday! Here, have a pocket Jonah to play with!

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

I WANT THE G/T OCS PLEASE..........

UUUHHHHH

Future dystopian cyberpunk vibe...giant cyborg-esque officers working to guard corrupt city...one officer being even more corrupt and getting attached to a repeating human offender...always letting him go in exchange for something more and more intimate much to their embarrassment...refusing to let some silly little revolution keep him from playing with his pet, even if it means squashing the rebellion right in front of them to make an example....

[just-a-whumping-birb]

First Bitten Picrews!

Oliver:

Tristan:

Grayson:

[oddsconvert]

Aaron still lives rent free in my head, even though he got like one second of screen time :( I hope felix still feels shitty about his actions

🥹💔 AARON 🥹💔

I actually came up with a whole backstory for Aaron & Felix. How they met, Aaron's captivity, right up until the unfortunate end, and I'd LOVE to write it if people are ever interested 🥺👉👈

And Felix most definitely does feel shit about it. He blames himself, and always calls Aaron his "first love". I was writing a future scene the other night where Josh and Felix talk about Aaron, and Felix says he hopes he's watching over him and forgives him 🫨

[roblingoblin285]

don’t normally repost full writing pieces but everyone needs to see this IMMEDIATELY

 CW: Intimate caretaker, insecurity (of scars on face), hurt/comfort, panic attack, just some wholesome fluff

When Caretaker hears a scream echo through the halls, they’ve never ran so fast, their first thought being, Whumpee is hurt, or worse… Whumper is back, trying to take them again. 

They barge in the bathroom without a second thought, to find Whumpee is alone and doesn’t seem to be injured (more than they already were, anyway), but they look like they’re on the verge of a panic attack, clutching their knees and violently shaking in the corner of the room.

Jaw clenched tightly, Caretaker makes sure not to make any sudden movements while they assess the situation. “Whumpee… I’m going to sit in front of you, okay?”

Whumpee just cries out in reply, shaking their head.

“You don’t want me to come near you?”

“N-no! I just– I’m sorry–”

“Hey, it’s okay, shh, I won’t come near you if you don’t want me to. I’m not offended. Can you just tell me if you’re hurt?”

Whumpee sniffs, and buries their head deeper into their arms. “No…”

Mouth still pursed, Caretaker considers what to do next. They can’t just leave them alone like this, and they don’t even know if Whumpee is telling the truth. They know how much Whumpee tries hiding their injuries.

“Okay. Do we need to practice breathing?”

“No, I-I’m fine.” Whumpee’s tone suggests otherwise, and they still won’t lift their face from their knees.

Caretaker leans against the doorframe. “I’m right here, Whumpee. Talk to me when you’re ready. Or you don’t have to. If you just want to have a lazy day, I’m not opposed to that, either.” They try to make every day a lazy day for Whumpee. It’s what they deserve after… everything they went through.

After around five minutes of silence, Whumpee says hoarsely, “You never told me I looked like… like this?”

“Oh, baby, is that what this is about?” Caretaker curses themself for not realizing sooner, seeing as this is the first time Whumpee has been near a mirror.

“I look like a mon–”

“No. No, don’t say that. You do not look like a monster. You look like Whumpee. My amazing, kind, beautiful Whumpee. Not a monster.”

Nostrils flaring, Whumpee stares at the ground, looking more miserable than ever. “That’s not true. I look like half of my face is… is missing!” They start sobbing again.

“Sweetheart…” Now Caretaker feels like crying, too. “Can I please hug you?”

Whumpee sobs again and opens their arms, letting Caretaker practically fall to their knees to gather them in their arms. They press kisses to their hair, rocking them back and forth, once again basking in silence for a little longer.

“Can you look at me?” Caretaker asks once Whumpee’s cries soften. “Please?”

Sobs turn into sniffles before they finally meet Caretaker’s eyes. They’re red and puffy, and they keep blinking as if to clear away tears.

“There you are,” Caretaker laughs softly. They cup their mostly injured cheek, and run their thumb gently across their skin, careful not to hurt them. “You see a monster, but you know what I see? I see the bravest, most stunning person I know.”

Whumpee shakes their head. “You’re just saying that…”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You still have those beautiful eyes, you still have your gorgeous hair, and you still have the most kissable face!” They press multiple pecks to Whumpee’s forehead and cheeks, causing them to laugh. “Oh, and how could I forget to mention that adorable laugh?”

“Stoooop,” Whumpee chuckles.

They smile. “And even if you didn’t have all those amazing things, it wouldn’t change a single thing in my eyes. You’re still the same Whumpee I always loved. Okay?”

“Okay.” Whumpee smiles, letting Caretaker wipe the rest of their tears with their thumb.

“I’m glad we can finally come to an agreement. Why don’t I make your favorite tonight? Along with your favorite movie?”

“And cuddles?”

“You’re insane if you think I’d forget cuddles.” They help Whumpee to their feet, and kiss the top of their head again. “I love you, Whumpee. Nothing can or will ever change that.” They look them in the eyes without a shred of disgust or disapproval. 

It’s nice to finally be home.