#human whumpee

[loreleiloon]

"How long will you keep me here?" whumpee asks. They've been locked in a dark room for days, trapped with someone they can't see. "Until it's safe to leave," whumper's voice tells them. "Why isn't it safe now?" Whumpee asks. They're not so sure it's safe in here. They can't remember what clothing feels like and the room is always so cold. "Don't you trust me?" Whumpee curls closer to themselves. Whumper's voice is so close to them, their tone low and soft. And yet... "...I want to...I want to see you." A soft kiss presses to their neck. Another trails down their back. "If I show you, you will go mad." Whumpee shudders under the kisses, starved for the attention. "But why?" Suddenly, another kiss presses against whumpee's knee. While lips still graze their back. Whumpee stiffens. "Oh come now, you knew I wasn't human," whumper's voice breathes gently in their ear. "You've seen it, haven't you?" More kisses pepper whumpee's body, all at once. Fear pummels their chest, heart slamming against their ribs. "I've seen you--?" they remember it now, the blinding light, the searing pain behind their eyeballs before they sank unconscious. Only to wake up in this darkness. Panicked tears sting whumpee's lashes. "...Am I blind?"

Lips claim their's softly. "No."

Whumpee breaks the kiss, close to tears, "Am I insane?"

"A little bit," whumper's voice murmurs inside their head. Whumpee curls into themselves, sobbing as the warm breath covers their body, "But you're safe here...with me...until it's time to come out."

[piplupfluffwritingstuff2]

Whumper drugging Whumpee up so they're super docile and out of it for when the other whumpers come over for a whumper party. Whumper's guests take turns cooing over Whumpee, petting them, holding them in their laps and feeding them little treats like pieces of fruit or chocolate. The whumpers fighting for the adorable Whumpee's attention, however limited it may be. Now imagine Whumpee is a human and the whumpers are all fae.

...should I write this?

[make-characters-suffer]

Nonhuman whumper who genuinely doesn't understand they're torturing human Whumpee. Their species has enhanced regenerative abilities and very high pain tolerance, so they see breaking a limb as equivalent to playfully "punching" a friend on the arm and think Whumpee's screams are just Whumpee joking around.

[whumpsoda]

i raise you, a vampire that always keeps their thrall in a sleepy/blissful state cause they think it’s endearing. especially since the thrall was previously a ball of anxiety that couldn’t relax whatsoever before the vampire intervened

WOHEO Masterlist

God, yes!! This is so good, thank you!!

cw: vampire whumper, human whumpee, hypnosis

———————————————————————

“How did you…?” the vampire watched as Malak clung to the couch, desperate to keep himself from toppling over. 

“I- please- I don’t-” the human’s eyes widened, his breath becoming frantic and short as he attempted to speak. His lip quivered, matching the tremble of his pale hands. 

Malak’s head throbbed, discombobulated and out of order from the whirlwind consuming him. It was as if he’d been pulled from a trance of heavenly paradise, suddenly unraveling the strings of his brain. Somehow, someway he couldn’t seem to grasp, he’d escaped the clutches of a mind-bending monster, one out to steal his autonomy to the highest degree.

Overwhelmed with the only urge to escape, one that had been weakened by the vampire’s strength, he had done his very best to obey. Fighting against his strangely heavy and uncoordinated body, he had tried so hard. A voice pounded in his head, screaming at him to liberate himself. 

Adrastus took a step forward, their hands held out to the other man in a comforting manner. “Darling, what happened?” Immediately, Malak attempted to run, instead slipping on his own feet, his legs far cumbersome to operate successfully.

Hitting the chill, wood flooring, an unfamiliar strike of pain cut through him. A whimper escaped his salty lips, wet from tears previously cascading down his red cheeks. In the blink of an eye, a pair of perfectly polished boots appeared level with his gaze.

He squealed, attempting to escape again, unsuccessfully. The sleepy weight of his body allowed for little movement, and thus he was easily captured by the monster. Inhumanly strong arms wrapped around his abdomen, lifting Malak into the arms of the vampire with a huff.

He desperately attempted to thrash in their hold, to no avail. While much too disoriented to resist successfully, Adrastus giggled at their discomfort. “It’s alright darling, I’m here now.” They soothed, inciting only more wiggling. They casually made their way around the couch, unbothered by the struggling man in their arms. 

Malak’s head spun, the concoction of anxiousness and panic twisting in his stomach. A jumble of thoughts overwhelmed him, incomprehensibly spiraling in his brain. He sputtered unintelligibly, coherent words melting on his tongue.

Adrastus plopped onto one cushion, gently sitting Malak on their lap. Before allowing the human a chance to make any move, no matter how feeble, they softly trailed a calming hand from Malak’s forehead, down to his chin, silencing their human immediately. “Hush, sweetie. No need to worry, I’ll fix you up, easy peasy.” They flashed the human a fang-filled smile.

Instantly, Malak’s brain liquified into a pile of goop. The whirlwind of awareness ceased, leaving only the commanding touch of the vampire. 

Adrastus slipped their hand from Malak’s back, gingerly draping him across their own lap. A wave of pleasure washed over him, settling and returning with each motion of Adrastus’ nimble fingers combing through his hair, lightly scratching at the surface of his scalp. With each repeat, the cloud in his mind only grew foggier, hazed with overwhelming bliss.

Drowsily, Malak adjusted his position, shifting his head to lay on Adrastus’ slender legs. “All better now, right?” In return, they merely received the slightest of a nod. 

“I’m so glad. I mean, I’m shocked as well!” Adrastus pinched at their human’s cheek sweetly. “How could such a feeble little mind like yours escape my power? I haven’t seen you remotely lucid in months!” they exclaimed.

The words simply flew right over Malak’s head, too enraptured in the urge to sleep to pay much attention. Absentmindedly, he grunted, and nuzzled closer into the lush fabric of the vampire’s sweater, basking in the warmth. “So sluggish, aren’t you? Just a sleepy little boy. A good little thrall.” They let out a light chuckle, continuing to pet their thrall to unconsciousness.

“My sleepy little boy, my good little thrall.” Malak’s heart practically soared at the praise. To his delight, Adrastus pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re just adorable, all dazed and disoriented. I wouldn’t prefer my thrall any other way.”

“I mean, you enjoy it too don’t you? I can’t imagine how it must have felt escaping from such a long period of mindless bliss. Snapping into awareness must have been so terrifying.” Pouting, Adrastus delicately swiped away the last slick tear from Malak’s red cheeks. “That’s why you can’t let that happen again, alright? I couldn’t imagine what you did to allow your consciousness so close to the surface, but surely you’ve learned your lesson now?”

Malak nodded eagerly, shaken over the idea of displeasing the vampire. “Such confusing emotions of fear and distress just aren’t fit for a thrall as cute as you!” A wide, dull-eyed smile couldn’t help but spread across the human’s face. 

“Must’ve just been all that anxiousness stirring inside that tummy of yours. I'll be sure to arrange that a similar situation does not arise again.” The assurance was comforting, yet Malak couldn’t help but sense a slight anguish stirring inside him.

[dreamof-jeanie]

Just a little something I wrote to get some practice in! It's been awhile since I've written anything, so I decided to indulge myself ⸜(*ˊᵕˋ* )⸝

warnings in the tags

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

“Get the fuck away from me,” Whumpee snapped, teeth bared like a rabid animal.

Whumper merely clicked their tongue, disappointed. “Now that won’t do at all. I thought I made it clear what was expected of you. It seems I may have to take some more drastic measures.”

Contrasting their calm tone, Whumper’s hand darted forward with a deadly precision, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of Whumpee’s jaw as they held their face tight. Whumpee struggled, but couldn’t pull their head out of Whumper’s grip. They shivered as Whumper stroked their thumb gently across their cheek, eyes softening once again. Whumpee couldn’t help but meet their gaze, almost feeling drawn in.

“It would be much easier for you if you would listen,” Whumper chided, their voice taking on an almost melodic lilt. 

Unease grew inside Whumpee at the strangely enchanting tone, and they jerked their head back again, lips twisting into a snarl. “Let me go,” they bit out, “Whatever you’re trying, it won’t work.”

Whumper smiled, and a hand snaked its way into Whumpee’s hair, further holding them in place. The contact sent a spark down Whumpee’s back that was both pleasant, and in a more distant part of their mind, unsettling. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Whumper said, their voice oozing like honey, “Just having a little chat. Keep your eyes on me, dear.”

Whumpee blinked slowly, finding it easier to listen to the gentle command than resist. What was the harm in letting Whumper monologue for a little? Anything had to be better than the pain from earlier. Shuddering at the memory of the still-fresh wounds, Whumpee settled a little further into Whumper’s hold, pressure on the back of their head and jaw grounding as their head started to feel light and cottony.

“That’s it, dear,” Whumper cooed, “Your body is starting to feel so heavy, isn’t it? You’ve had an awfully long day - you deserve some rest. Go ahead and let your eyes close, pet. You seem so tired.”

And Whumpee was so tired. But they didn’t want to close their eyes yet- not when Whumper’s gaze was so enrapturing. Despite their best efforts, though, their eyelids drooped, finally falling shut with a soft sigh. The rest of their limbs felt like lead, while their mind stayed blissfully floaty- moments away from slipping into unconsciousness.

Whumper seemed to know this, their hold tightening the slightest bit. “Ah, ah. Don’t fall asleep yet, dear. I have more I need to tell you. Though you are being so good for me, aren’t you?”

Whumpee’s brow furrowed, something inside them prickling uneasily at that. But their thoughts were too hard to catch ahold of, slipping easily from their grasp. And Whumper was holding them so gently- if this is what they got for being good, they never wanted it to end.

They expressed this thought out loud, their words starting to slur. “W’nna be good..”

Whumper laughed softly, “And you will be. Just keep focusing on me. Think about how nice it feels to listen to my voice. How nice it feels to be a good pet. You don’t even have to worry your little head about anything. Let all those thoughts in that brain of yours slip away- it’s all too confusing, anyways. Just listen to me, dear, I’ll tell you all you need to hear.”

As Whumper spoke, the feeling of having their head stuffed with cotton only grew, though Whumpee couldn’t find any reason to be against it. Whumper was right- it did feel nice to let go of their worries. They couldn’t even remember what they’d been so upset about in the first place. Thinking too hard about it made their head start to hurt, it was so much easier to just bask in Whumper’s attention.

Whumpee sighed, “I w’nna… w’nna lis’en…”

Whumper’s thumb over their mouth stopped their words.

“Oh, it must be so hard to speak,” Whumper cooed, their thumb stroking over Whumpee’s bottom lip. “Your tongue feeling so heavy in your mouth. It would be so much easier for you to not talk at all. Let me do all the talking, dear, I’ll take care of you.”

Whumpee nodded drowsily, a soft hum of agreement escaping them. They were glad Whumper had given them permission not to speak. It felt like their mouth had been stuffed with cotton, and words slipped through their grasp like sand. Having the choice taken away from them made things so much simpler.

“You must be so tired from all that struggling earlier,” Whumper continued, beginning to card their fingers through Whumpee's hair, scratching lightly at their scalp. Whumpee leaned into the touch with a soft, pleased sound. “I love a little fight as much as the next person- but isn't this so nice? All you have to do is listen to my voice. You don't have to worry about anything else. You can let go of all those little naughty thoughts, alright, dear?”

“Mmm.” Whumpee tried to make their mouth move to answer Whumper, but their tongue felt stuck to the roof of their mouth. 

Whumper chuckled, the sound making Whumpee’s insides flutter. “Look how good you are at listening already. Go ahead. Speak.”

Whumpee’s eyes fluttered dazedly, and they found they couldn’t remember what they wanted to say. What had Whumper been talking about? “Don’...” they slurred, brows furrowed “I don’ ‘member…”

A smile grew on Whumper’s face, and they pressed a gentle kiss to Whumpee’s forehead, soothing the crease there. Whumpee sighed happily, their eyes slipping shut again. All that mattered was what Whumpee told them to do. They never wanted this moment to end.Whumper’s voice broke in over their musing, sounding pleased, “Oh, such a good little pet. You'll do wonderfully for me, won't you? So obedient. You’ll make the perfect thrall.”

[unforgivenn]

Whumpee's breath came in shallow gasps, their pulse quickening with each beat as Whumper's fangs sank deeper into their shoulder, eliciting a small cry of pain.

"Do you feel that?" Whumper's voice slithered like a serpent in the darkness, sending icy tendrils of fear snaking along Whumpee's spine. "That's the fear coursing through your veins..."

Whumper leaned in closer, his cold breath ghosting over Whumpee's ear, sending shivers down their spine. "It's absolutely delicious..." His voice dripped with sinister delight as he flashed his blood-stained teeth, relishing in the terror reflected in Whumpee's wide eyes.

Whumpee's fingers twitched trying to push Whumper away. With each sip of blood, Whumper chuckled softly, savoring the way Whumpee's struggles grew weaker, their attempts to push him away faltering.

Eventually, their struggles slowed to a halt, their head slumping against Whumper's shoulder. Whumper's lips curled into a twisted smirk seeing this. He gently brushed a lock of hair from their face, his voice a low whisper.

"Sleep well my dear.. You may have fallen but your nightmares are just beginning.."

[lumpywhump]

a bloodbag whumpee who's needs are taken care of. The vampire will do anything to make sure the taste of whumpee's blood is not tainted

[redd956]

Space Themed Whump Prompt List

Whump for the space and horror lovers

Whumpee's protective facial wear cracked during a quick moment of violence. Slowly the outer world is seeping in. Maybe whumpee is slowly losing their breathable air, maybe something hazardous is creeping in.

The space ship turned smaller and smaller as whumpee drifted away from it. They pressed the mayday button of their suit, but instead watched the silhouettes of their crew start the ship and head the opposite direction.

Alien whumpee has become a specimen to observe aboard the ship. They spend their days watching astronauts pass by, slowly learning to tell the difference between the suits. Caretaker has that strange scratch on their "face", and whumper's "hands" are blue instead of blinding white.

Whumper gives whumpee tainted oxygen, slowly poisoning and asphyxiating them. An enemy astronaut notices whumpee's loopy behavior.

Alien whumper won't let astronaut whumpee leave. Whumper's taken to murdering other astronauts to keep whumpee's oxygen going, and suit repaired.

Whumper and whumpee become abandoned on a dangerous alien planet. They're forced to work together if they want to survive, but whumper's violent behavior fails to stop.

After their ship is beaten and battered multiple whumpees are forced to land in dangerous territory that holds other intelligent creatures. Alien caretaker is very confused by these bulky and injured crashlanders, but they can't let these strange creatures suffer.

[loreleiloon]

Doctor whumpers who strap their whumpees to cold metal guernseys.

Whumpee whimpering in fear as they watch the doctor work, squirming against the stiff leather straps that tie them down, the bit gag that binds their tongues.

Doctor caressing the shivering skin with their latex-gloved hand, promising whumpee it's only for science and they're doing so well.

Whumpee arching their back as they scream, knowing there's nothing they can do to stop who they're being changed into...

[piplupfluffwritingstuff2]

Hihi! May I request a Victorian dainty whumpee with a kind vampire caretaker? Maybe whumpee is sick and has a fever and caretaker has to talk them down from their delirium?

There's a deep freeze happening in my town this week and I already got sick :(

Hi Anon! I’m sorry that you’re sick, I hope this snippet makes you feel better! Here you go! I took some creative liberty with the prompt, I hope that’s okay. Rather than talking Whumpee down, Caretaker uses vampiric hypnosis to help their beloved. I'm also so sorry that it's so short, but I hope it's okay all the same!

“My darling, you have to eat,” Caretaker said gently.

Whumpee whined incoherently, turning their head away from the spoon Caretaker held out to them.

“I know you’re confused, it’s the fever,” Caretaker said, “but this is good for you, it’s going to help you feel better.”

“P-please,” Whumpee muttered, glassy eyes fluttering open and closed.

Caretaker weighed their options. On the one hand, they didn’t like to take advantage of anyone’s will; on the other hand, Whumpee needed to eat if they were ever going to pull through. They sighed, their mind made up. They gently turned Whumpee’s face to look at them directly.

Caretaker’s eyes started to shimmer with an unnatural glint.

“Look at me, dear Whumpee,” they said softly, “gaze into my eyes.”

Whumpee blinked, then stared transfixed as Caretaker’s power washed over them.

“That’s right, very good,” Caretaker praised quietly, “let your mouth fall open for me.”

Whumpee obeyed without a fuss or a care, and Caretaker gently pushed the spoon into their mouth.

“Good, good, now close. Swallow. Excellent, my love. Again.”

Caretaker continued to feed them this way until the bowl of soup was empty. They brushed the sweat-dampened fringe from Whumpee’s forehead, then planted a small kiss there.

“Sleep now, my darling,” they whispered, “sleep and let your mind and body heal.”

Whumpee’s eyes slipped closed, and Caretaker adjusted them so that they were laying down in the bed. Their blood had tasted wrong for days now, and Caretaker had been feeding periodically to check for signs that Whumpee’s condition was improving. So far, though, it still tasted sick. They sat by their beloved’s bedside, in hopes that when they awoke, they would be a little more lucid.

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[blackrosesandwhump]

Totally random idea that just popped into my head:

A human who sets up a contractual business with vampires as their bloodbag on call, able and willing (even eager) to feed them as the need arises.

Imagine a dim, fancy shop, all the windows curtained over or blacked out, and a smiling human who walks out of the shadows to greet the vampire that just showed up, starving, at their door.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Hypnosis

Warnings: alcohol, getting drunk, depression, mentions/threat of blood drinking, intimate vampire whumper, hypnosis/mind control, kidnapping of a human

I got a few requests from several Anons to write a vampire with hypnosis powers, so I finally got around to it! (Thank you anons that suggested it -- hope you like this one!)

Author's note: this is a standalone short story -- I probably won't continue it at all (although I'm open to being convinced otherwise if anyone has good plot ideas)

I wrote this before I had the concussion symptoms and just hadn't posted it yet.

It was late at the bar. Really late. As in, past midnight kind of late. Tom was the only one left in the entire bar aside from one woman and the bartender himself. He had been drinking his worries away, miserably reflecting on the sad state of his life. Fired from his job, in heavy debt and single as ever. He knew wasting money on alcohol would only worsen his financial situation, but... he couldn't stop. He just needed to forget everything for a while.

His gaze drifted over again to the woman a few seats away from him. She was pale-skinned but gorgeous, with fiery orange hair and copper eyes, and with a sharp, distinguished jawline. Maybe he could make a friend for once, or at least try his luck at making a new social connection to possibly benefit himself later on. So, recklessly, he ordered another drink and got out of his chair, walking over to hand it to her. More money down the drain.

"May I spoil the lady?" He teased as he approached, offering it in a hand.

The woman turned to him with a charming smile, eyes sharp and assessing as they swept his appearance, a strange expression darting briefly across her features before it was gone.

"My, what a polite young gentleman you are!" She chuckled, tilting her head down seductively. Her voice was smooth and melodic and velvety and pleasant to hear. "And what might your name be?"

"Tom," he answered, smiling welcomingly. "And yours?"

The woman paused for a second, oddly, before answering. "It's Alice. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. She reached for the drink he was offering, and their hands briefly brushed -- resulting in Alice flinching slightly with a quiet hiss, recoiling and almost dropping the beverage.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked worriedly. "I--" his eyes flicked to her hand, and his blood went cold as ice, his heart plummeting all the way to his feet. Because there, on the side of her finger, was a small burn.

Tom was wearing a silver ring. And he knew of only one creature that could be burned by silver.

"You... You're..." his voice caught in his throat, a sudden rush of fear washing over him. He couldn't get the words out, but the word came to him like a flare in the darkness. Vampire.

He instinctively took a step back. Then another. Forget making a new friend, he needed to escape.

He'd heard a lot about vampires in the past, many rumors and myths about how his town had its own population of bloodsuckers lurking in the darkness. And the rumors aligned with the murders that occasionally happened, the victims drained of blood. All the evidence pointed to them being real, and now Tom was staring right at one.

"I'm sorry miss, I didn't realize how late it was," Tom said shakily, glancing at his watch. It was three in the morning, so his excuse seemed valid enough. "I'd love to stay and talk, but I must be getting home now." He got ready to bolt.

The woman watched him, eyes glittering with -- amusement? She took a sip of the drink he'd bought for her, before setting it down on the counter. "I'm sure you can stay for awhile," she said smoothly. "You can't hand a girl a drink without getting to know her. It's considered rude, you know?"

Anxious sweat beaded on Tom's brow, and his hands started shaking. "That was before I realized how late it was." He took another step back. He was almost close enough to the door now to make his escape. He glanced behind him to check the distance, before his gaze flicked back to meet Alice's, and his mind suddenly went fuzzy.

"Don't run," Alice whispered, but her voice sounded like it was right in his ears, like she was standing right next to him instead of on a chair at the bar counter. "Come and have a seat. Let's talk."

Tom shivered, something strange brushing against his mind, latching onto his thoughts. He was moving before he even realized it, walking robotically toward Alice and settling down in the chair next to hers. Not good. Once his brain caught up he panicked, lurching back out of the chair to run away.

"Ah-ah!" I didn't say you could leave," Alice rumbled, eyes focused and intense. "Stay."

And to Tom's horror, his body listened, freezing in place before dragging him back to the chair again, as if an unseen force was controlling his movements. He squirmed and fought against invisible restraints locking all his muscles up, holding him in place. The effort was fruitless.

Alice merely looked amused, gaze sweeping over him, slow and appreciating. "Sorry if I scared you, sometimes I make mistakes that give me away," she chuckled darkly. "But I meant what I said earlier -- it's terribly rude to give a gal a drink and bail right after. Even if that gal is... someone like me." her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper at the end, confirming Tom's awful suspicion.

The hair on his arms bristled with fear, a shiver of dread racing down his spine. No. This couldn't be happening. Maybe he'd had one too many drinks and was imagining this. Maybe he'd wake up and it would all be an awful dream.

"I've made a horrible mistake," he rasped shakily.

"Yes, you did," Alice agreed sweetly. "Happens to the best of us. Don't be too hard on yourself."

Claws caressed Tom's mind, a deadly danger he became viscerally aware of. Something that manipulated his desires, influenced his entire being on a deeper level. He was walking on very thin ice.

"What do you want with me?" He breathed, fighting to stay calm.

Alice tapped the counter with her fingers thoughtfully. "Companionship, I suppose," she answered vaguely. "I'm lonely, and bored, same as you were when you bought me a drink. That's why you approached me, was it not? In hopes of starting a conversation, interact with another life form to pass time and distract yourself from mental turmoil?"

Tom's throat was dry and scratchy. How could she know?

Alice chuckled knowingly at the stunned look on his face. "I used to do the same when I was human. It was a way to escape mortal dilemmas, just for a night, by talking to someone. One thing we have in common, it seems."

And the ONLY thing, Tom thought with a shudder.

"So what do you plan to do with me now that I'm at your mercy?" He cautiously ventured, digging for any hints as to her intentions.

Alice ever-so-slowly tilted her head to the side like a predator zeroing in on prey, a look that made Tom's skin crawl. "You know, I haven't fully decided yet..." She gave him a devious smirk full of dark interest. "But I'm considering having a snack. I'm sure you can figure out what that would entail."

"You--you can't do this!" Tom blurted indignantly, a sudden burst of anger piercing through the fear.

"I can't? You dare tell me what I can and cannot do?!" She scoffed, lip curling. "Let me make one thing clear to you..." She leaned close, teeth bared. "I can do whatever I want to you. Kneel."

Tom instantly fell off the chair and dropped to his knees with a thud on the floor before he'd even registered it. His body wasn't his own, controlled by a higher force invading his entire being, trapping him in his own head.

"Hey! What's going on? Is everything okay?" The bartender hurried out from behind the counter, alarmed.

Alice spun to face him, and the urgency instantly left his face, his expression going blank. "Everything is fine. Go back to your work. Ignore us."

To Tom's despair, the bartender turned away and robotically headed off to resume his duties without helping, leaving him to deal with the menacing vampire all on his own.

Alice shifted her attention back to him, sliding out of her chair and standing inches away in front of him, intentionally invading his space.

Tom's breath hitched, eyes widening a hair as she knelt down to get eye level with him. He strained against the compulsion to obey, scratching desperately at the closed door keeping him chained in his own body, frantically trying to find an opening, a weak spot, anything that would allow him to break free of the vampire's hypnotic control.

But the claws gripping his conscience suddenly turned sharp, digging in and sinking into his brain, tearing a cry of pain from him.

"The more you resist, the more it will hurt," Alice cooed, licking her lips. "Be a dear and bare your neck to me, mmm?"

Tom gritted his teeth against the pain blasting his senses, desperately scrabbling for any shred of self-control. But it was useless. Slowly, in twitchy movements, his head tilted to the side against his will, exposing his vulnerable neck. He was panting with the effort of fighting it.

He groaned in frustration, utterly helpless. His heart was practically pounding out of his chest with terror, racing even faster when Alice leaned her head in to bring her mouth to his neck. His breaths came fast and shallow and ragged as she pressed a light kiss to his pulse, toying with him.

"Please... don't," Tom pleaded desperately, voice hoarse. "I promise I won't ever bother you again. Just... let me go."

"Who said you were bothering me?" Alice murmured against his skin, and Tom shuddered. "You smell... appetizing. Humans like that are hard to come by. Most are bland and boring -- average. All the good ones are usually taken by the more powerful vamps."

Tom flinched at the scrape of teeth against his neck -- no fangs, just normal teeth. So far.

"You don't have to do this," he rasped pleadingly.

"Oh but I want to," Alice purred cruelly, nipping his ear. "It's too good an offer to resist. What are the odds of stumbling upon the perfect human in a bar like this? I'd be a fool to let you go."

Tom squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tamp down the rising panic. His stomach churned with nausea, bile climbing up his throat.

Alice gave him a playful bite on the neck, not breaking skin, before pulling away entirely, leaning back. "Do you realize now how futile fighting me is? How useless it is to try and run away? I want to hear you say it. /Submit/ to me."

"Yes... I know it's useless," Tom forced out. Anything to appease her and protect himself from further harm.

"Good." Alice ruffled his hair with a hand. "Luckily for you, I'm not actually hungry right now. I just wanted to put you in your proper place, set clear boundaries and make it known how utterly futile resistance is in my presence. And while I might not be interested in feeding right now... I will be later. And I think we could have some fun in the meantime, hmm?" She snapped her fingers at him like a dog, her voice gruff and commanding as she straightened, looming over him. "Up."

Tom's body quickly obeyed, forcing him to his feet before her, stiff and rigid. His eyes were wide and frightened as Alice stared at him, the compulsion wrapping tight around his mind.

"Sleep," Alice ordered, and his head instantly fuzzed, filled with cotton.

He pushed against it, fighting to keep his eyes open. He couldn't let his guard down around her, couldn't let himself be vulnerable and exposed like that, where he wouldn't even be awake to know what she did to him.

Alice smiled softly, shaking her head in amusement. "You've got a strong will, I'll give you that much. It's actually kind of impressive. But I'm certain you won't want to be conscious to see where I'm going to take you. I'm doing you a favor, really." Her eyes narrowed, and Tom felt her influence amplify, tugging insistently at his thoughts, dragging him down... down... down...

He startled when she cupped his jaw in her hand, rubbing it with her thumb. "Shhhh, let the darkness take you," she whispered. "I'll take wonderful care of you."

Tom wobbled unsteadily, eyes glazing over -- and a second later his legs buckled under him, exhaustion sapping his strength. He was distantly aware of cold arms wrapping around him, catching him and keeping him from hitting the floor, before his mind dissolved into empty nothingness. And he knew no more.

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

@floral-comet-whump @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10

[macknus]

Febuwhump: Day Eleven

Prompt: Demonic Possession

Febuwhump Master-post

Marcy knew the moment she got home that she was in trouble. The apartment air was thick, cold, and if the demon could she imagined he would set the entire building with a fog or mist that covers the floor as she stepped through the house.

She pressed her back against the door, debating just leaving and having this conversation another time. She knew he would be angry with her, at her, but she didn’t really care what a demon thought of her.

So she pushed off the door and walked with her usual confident swagger into her living room/kitchen. He was standing at the window, looking over the city like a silent god.

She hated the body he chose to possess. The way the beautiful muscles that rippled through his shirt on his back moved slightly as he tensed upon her arrival. He stood over six feet tall, his body carved from the gods themselves. Huge, dwarfing Marcy whenever she stood close to him. His hand on his chin, pondering, his other crossed over his broad chest, supporting his elbow. She had seen him do that pose a million times before.

She hated how old and wise and sexy it made him look.

“Hey Nostro,” she greeted warmly.

Nostro answered with icy silence. Well… good. She didn’t really want a lecture from him today anyways. She turned to the kitchen and flicked on the light, filling the kettle before snapping the tab on and watched it boil.

Nostro still didn’t move. Marcy’s heart started pounding slowly, thumping against her ribcage. Just making itself known. Not enough to actually scare her, besides she wasn’t scared. Not of Nostro.

Never.

“Is there something you wish to confess, little fox?” Nostro asked with his velvet smooth voice. He didn’t turn as he spoke. She hated how he called her that. Hated her reaction to it; how it made shivers appear on her skin every time he did.

“Nope,” Marcy replied sweetly.

“No?” Nostro repeated, tilting his head to the side. Marcy swallowed— not a lump in her throat, just her mouth was… dry. She was thirsty. Absolutely not scared. Never…

“Nope.” She said again, but it didn’t have as much as a kick to it as the first time.

Nostro scoffed and shook his head, a humourless dark chuckle leaking from his lips. “Humans,” he said, like the word was a curse. “So meddlesome. So much more work than they’re worth,” he continued, finally turning to face her.

Marcy had to fight her reaction to seeing him every time. His beauty physically stunned her. His face may as well have been cut from marble, all sharp edges and strong, define lines. His eyes angular like a cat’s, deep set in his face, shadowed by his sockets and his brows. His smile chilled her to the core on his perfect pink lips. Straight, dark strands of hair, so black they were almost purple, framed his face as if he were a prince, which he told her he was, upon their initial meeting.

“Bad day?” Marcy asked with false sympathy. “Tea?”

Nostro’s smile turned to a grin, revealing his sharp teeth like fangs a vampire would have. Icy fingers traced her spine but she tried not to show him his effect on her.

“Tea sounds delightful,” Nostro said, prowling towards her like a predator locked in on its prey. Marcy swallowed thickly, backing away from him as he rounded the kitchen counter. “After all it has been a little bit stressful today, Marceline. I learned that the foolish little fox has tried to renege on our deal.”

Marcy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t—”

In a blink Nostro disappeared and Marcy backed into a hard chest. Two arms like iron wrapped around her torso, one around her waist and the other curled up, long fingers coiling around her throat like a noose, pushing her back into him.

“And now she has the gall to lie,” he hissed, his voice turning less human and more guttural and demonic by the second.

“I— I didn’t! I just—!” Nostro’s hand slammed against her jaw, locking it up so she couldn’t speak and could only whine pathetically in the back of her throat.

“Humans…” Nostro’s hissed, leaning down and Marcy froze when she felt his breath on her neck. “You make me so very hungry, little fox. And since you’re the reason I had to expend so much energy today, I think I’m entitled to a little taste, don’t you?”

Before Marcy could even register his intention, two sharp pinpricks cut into her throat as Nostro wrenched her head to the side. Her scream was muffled as she struggled. Nostro hummed, his lips closing around the wound and Marcy felt her body going weak as he pulled and pulled her blood from her.

“Mmm, delectable,” Nostro hummed happily. “You hide your fear of me well girl, but your blood can never lie.”

Marcy whimpered as Nostro’s tongue ran over the wound, sealing it closed but it didn’t make the coldness of the pain in her veins disappear. It didn’t stop the sudden weakness that overtook her as her body went boneless.

“There, there, little fox. You’ve had a hard day trying to outsmart me,” he cooed, grabbing her under her legs and shoulders and lifting her to the couch. He lay her down flat on the cushions, moving her hair so it exposed the mark on her throat. A strange, possessive thing he always did when he drank from her. “Now you know that such endeavours are fruitless, perhaps we can get back to our partnership, yes?”

Marcy moaned. Nostro smiled. “Now, what kind of tea would you like?”

*~*~*~*~*

Tag-list: @whump-in-the-closet

[rabbit-flaying]

Humanity's Collector

Genres: Fantasy and Science Fiction

Content Warnings: Dehumanization, Kidnapping, Casual Violence, Claustrophobia, Mild Cosmic Horror

Note: I want to get back to positing my writing on Tumblr. Maybe someone will recognize this. Probably not.

"Gosh you're pretty," Glade cooed, its voice sounding a bit like Harlow's mother, a bit like a brook, and a bit like paper being crumpled up and cast aside.

Harlow looked around desperately. For he had to find escape from the strange realm he had woken in. All manner of miscellany took up space in the void around him. It looked like a storage closet, if every storage closet in the world were connected together, and the possessions of kings and paupers alike were granted permission to socialize.

He ignored Glade and stood from his wicker chair, quickly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the realm and number of objects held within it.

Above him the color white stretched out into infinitum. True white, not the dirty kind found in snow and house paint. It hurt his head, making his temples throb and blood vessels contract, so he looked away from it.

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

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

Harlow made the mistake of eye contact. Glade's eyes shone with the light of galaxies, a dazzling rainbow of nebulae, planets, and suns. The entirety of the universe, and many more beyond it, seemed tucked away within the perfectly spherical marbles buried in the putty-like flesh of its glowing face.

He finally broke away from the hypnotic sight, his puny brain unable to handle the visions within. How much time had passed, every one of his neurons firing at once in an attempt to process the cosmos of Glade's eyes? Seconds? Minutes? Hours, even?

He needed answers, yet he did not know the right questions. Glade didn't seem human, instead a creature from a story book. And this monolithic hoard couldn't possibly be real.

"Your home?" he asked in a strangled sort of voice, staring pointedly at the patch of ebony wood ground he stood upon.

"I'm a collector," Glade explained, running their sharp nails, painted with glitter and adorned with scraps of emeralds, through Harlow's silky hair.

"What do you collect, exactly?"

Harlow watched a glittering blue beetle crawl across the ground, finding a hiding spot underneath a red and purple feathered ball gown displayed on a copper mannequin.

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

Harlow carefully took in Glade's appearance, avoiding its hypnotic eyes. Despite its alien nature- as clear to Harlow as it would have been to his ancestors as they huddled around campfires concocting stories to explain their world- it chose to appear humanoid, though not precisely human.

Glade was the kind of thing that would hide in a child's closet, and speak to them in a parental fashion, loathing the knowledge that the child would never be believed no matter how loudly they spoke of its existence.

Its iridescent skin glimmered, changing colors with every movement, no matter how slight, as stunning light produced by the void poured over its body. Its proportions sat beyond the human view of normal, uncanny like an airbrushed model, but far more monstrous. Behind its smiling lips were two rows of porcelain and copper teeth, slicing perfectly through its pale gray gums.

Delicate jewelry of book pressed flowers and dragonfly wings adorned its warped elven ears. It was clad in a fur cape, the stitched together pelts of numerous small animals, fur colors clashing and asymmetrical. Its heels, as thin as sewing needles and seemingly impossible to walk on, granted half a foot of height to their seven-foot frame.

"Don't worry," Glade continued. "I'll take care of you. I've been collecting humanity's creations for millenia. You may use what you find around you to its fullest extent."

"I want to go home," Harlow said, finally realizing that this was not a dream that could be banished away by opening his eyes and pouring himself a cup of black coffee mixed with salt. "Please let me go. I'm sure there's someone who would love to be here. But I like my life on earth."

"But I wanted you."

Glade hugged Harlow tightly, mimicking how it had observed humans comforting one another. Its skin had none of Harlow's warmth, and he found this hug as uncomfortable as cuddling with a marble statue would have been, if he had ever been bold enough to break the omnipresent rule of not touching museum exhibits.

Harlow closed his eyes. "I have to be dreaming," he said, his lie cloaked in a defeated sort of tone. "This can't be real."

"Of course this isn't real," Glade said, holding its newest acquisition out at arm's length. "But it isn't a dream either. You are within my home, far outside of your universe."

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

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

Harlow broke away from Glade, and took off walking. There had to be an exit. Everything had an exit, whether it be a school or a church or a corner shop. The exits were always there, saddened as they were that so many people were afraid to break the rules and only took advantage of their ability to leave at certain appointed hours.

The void still seemed to stretch on into infinity, swelling larger and larger the farther and farther Harlow walked. But everything had an end if you traveled far enough to find it. Even the deserts that passed past any human line of sight and the mountains that seemed too high to ever climb over.

But now Harlow was applying rules from his original plane of existence to the alien one he had been so rudely whisked away to. And that was very foolish indeed.

"No, that doesn't sound nice," he said angrily, as Glade easily matched his pace, wearing a concerned expression it had stolen from a grandparent not too long ago. "I'm leaving."

"You can't leave. Because I didn't steal you. The original Harlow Finch Echowood is still in his home, playing solitaire and chatting away to his cat. You belong here with me."

Harlow stopped in his tracks, sitting down on an ancient jeweled throne. It had held countless kings before him, but he respected them not, only using their seat to keep from collapsing in shock.

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

"I can't eat your food," Harlow argued, remembering what he had learned from a book that lived in his elementary school library. It had worn a shiny green cover, and the name Susan Macintosh was written inside the front cover before his own. "I'd never be able to leave if I did that."

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

Harlow stood up, his dizziness replaced with a red-hot temper. "I hate you! Let me go! You can't keep me here!"

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

"I couldn't send you back, even if I wanted to. Then there would be two Harlow Finch Echowoods trying to live your singular and unique life."

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

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

With every passing moment, Harlow's belief in Glade's words only grew. Any attempt to fight against them was snuffed out by diluted logic and the omnipresent knowledge that he was still alive. He breathed. Blood rushed through his veins. More importantly, his mind continued to produce thoughts and feelings to process the outside world.

"Just combine us again or something," Harlow begged. "I want to go home. I never asked to be brought here."

"I cannot combine nor reconstruct nor mend. I can only make copies of beautiful things, and things not quite so beautiful."

Glade spread its arms, gesturing to its hoard of human objects collected in centuries long past. The treasures of every empire ever risen and fallen was present, both the spectacular and the mundane side by side in a discordant visual melody.

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

"You speak as though this is a punishment. I have simply added you to my collection." It flicked the tears from his face, scratching him with its nail. "Now come, I have made you good food."

Glade gripped Harlow's arm and dragged him far away, weaving throughout its collection at a brisk and even pace, avoiding falling into the gaps between pieces of floor, which only infinitum laid below.

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

Glade opened the oven and pulled out a pan of fresh bread. Its hands were bare, but unburnt by the hot metal dish. It grabbed a knife from one of the many drawers and cut through the bread without displacing a single crumb, before laying the slice out on a neon green plate.

"Eat while it's still hot," Glade said with a bright smile. It was a well used expression by those of Harlow's time who prepared meals for other humans, and it planned to repeat it often.

In its time spent with Harlow, its teeth had dulled significantly, and its gums had taken on a pale shade of pink. Why it had not mimicked a perfect human before meeting Harlow was beyond him, and it seemed perfectly capable of warping its appearance to become more like him.

He reluctantly tried the seed filled bread, finding it to be heavenly and soft. Faerie food or not, he scarfed it down, suddenly famished beyond all reason.

"Thank you," he said automatically.

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

Harlow sighed, and clambered up to sit on the counter. An act of rebellion his twelve year old self would have been proud of, even if Glade didn't give him the smallest sliver of annoyance, having no understand of manners itself.

"I'm really never leaving…" he said, his voice like a half-deflated party balloon still adored by a kid who refused point blank to throw it in the trash. "If that's it then, what happens when you get bored of me?"

"I never get bored of my playthings."

"How big is this place? Is it a universe, or a realm, or a room in some alien mansion?" Harlow thought these reasonable enough questions, considering his circumstances.

"An infinite pocket dimension," Glade replied. "If you travel far enough, my collection begins to grow thin. There is a boundary of where my possessions lie, and after that is the abyss. It is nearly impossible to find one's way back from nothingness."

"I hate it here," Harlow said, as though he had not made this feeling quite clear before. "I want to be around other people. Not you."

"I will bring you some," Glade promised. "Allow me a few minutes to collect them. You shall have a companion, as all humans crave, or more than one if it suits your fancy."

Harlow froze, debating his own morality versus the loneliness soon to bloom from this isolation. How could he allow more people to be stuck in this horrible purgatory of preserved humanity, just so he could have someone to talk to? The truth? He couldn't bear it. At least, not yet.

"No," he begged, the first tears ever created in this pocket dimension blooming in his eyes. "Please, don't put anyone else through this. I'll be good. I won't complain. I promise."

"Oh, how you confuse me." Something odd bloomed over Glade's face, a poor mimicry of a half-understood human emotion. "I see… Come along then."

Harlow hopped off the counter and followed Glade as it walked under a vast canopy of safety pinned together curtains fashioned from every familiar fabric and exotic cloth created by the hands of humanity.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Glade called in a sing-song voice. "I've brought a new trinket. This one can talk, so I'm sure you'll like it."

People approached Glade and Harlow from the shadows. Well, not people, exactly. They were like Glade, monstrous and wonderful, stepping straight from a story book and into Harlow's waking nightmare. There stood more figures than Harlow could keep track of, intent on viewing the treasure Glade had discovered.

"I finally brought a human home," Glade said proudly, if such a being were capable of pride. "Isn't it just a doll?"

Harlow flinched as numerous hands and insect-like feelers crept over his body, Glade's companions examining him all too closely. He felt as though he had jumped into those foam pits he had so loved as a young child, touched in all directions yet floating in oddly empty space.

"Get off of me," he demanded, forgetting his promise not to complain as he shoved the nearest figure away. "Stop it. I said stop!"

Harlow tried to break free of them, pushing and shoving, even striking at them with closed fists and elbows. But he was pulled back, the creatures murmuring in appreciation on how bizarrely Glade's newest acquisition behaved.

"Stop touching me," Harlow cried. "Please. I hate being crowded. What are you doing?"

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

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

The different figures murmured to each other, formulating explanations.

"Is it because we're touching it?"

"It's water… I think."

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

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

"You are so repetitive," Glade remarked, before perfectly imitating Harlow's voice. "I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home."

Harlow finally relented. As the nightmarish figures poked and prodded him, discussing him amongst each other, he only hoped that they would soon grow bored and move on to newer shinier pursuits.

How could he stand to do this for the rest of eternity?

[aspergirl2022]

Real conversation I had with myself

My mind : I got an idea !

Me : Okay... tell me more...

My mind : You see how dragons are possessive when it comes to their treasure/hoard ?

Me : Yeah ?

My mind : Put some whump on it and you got either Dragon Whumper or Carewhumper and Captive Whumpee !! Doesn't it sound cool ?!?

Me : I agree but how do I write that ?

My mind has exit the chat.

Me : Oh great...

[weirdstrangeandawful]

I am of the firm opinion that we, as a community, are sleeping on the wealth of whump that is severe itching. Not only is itching just a horrible symptom in general but you have the mental exhaustion just like you have for more typical pain and also the potential for other types of pain from scratching too hard as well as the risk of infection. The itching can also be a warning sign of so many other things. And for teh nonhuman and fantasy whumpers out there, you can have it as a symptom of magical exhaustion or have a whumpee with claws tearing up their own flesh.