#smaller whumpee

[rizzoto-whump]

I really enjoy the dynamics of size difference in whump, especially when there's a smaller whumpee and a larger whumper. The contrast of a small and fragile whumpee, easily overpowered or defeated by a larger whumper—like a pathetic, sad wet cat they are.

[avvail-whumps]

‘the facility’ — pre-breakout 1/3

masterlist · next

content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, mentioned minor character death, mentioned non-con drugging, mentioned torture, psychological torture, minor violence, blood

“Noah, you’re needed on Level Nine.” 

Those words sent a strange little flurry of nerves settling in his stomach, and the clipboard almost slipped from his fingers as he spun around in shock. His eyes flickered around, as if wondering if she really was addressing him, or somebody else. 

A Higher-Up stood before him, a black haired woman with a plain mask covering the entirety of her face. It was a staple for the Higher-Ups, showing off their status. Flanking her were two Apoids. Noah had grown accustomed to seeing the dangerous rifles clutched in their hands, but their masked faces and robotic nature still made him weary. He set the clipboard on the countertop, hands clasping together anxiously. 

“Level Nine, ma’am?” He repeated slowly, his voice wobbling. Noah had only been down to Level Nine during his induction a few months ago. There was this dangerous, dark air to the place, one that had shivers rolling down his spine whenever he thought about it. Part of him hoped she had simply misspoken, or he had misheard her. 

No such luck. The woman nodded her head. “We need the blood taken from one of our prisoners.”

No doubt another brutal scheme for more torture. Noah resided on the first Level of the Facility; compared to most, life here was rather tame. The prisoners weren’t immensely dangerous, and while they were trained to proceed with caution, Noah had never had any problems or disasters. Although he had also occasionally concocted experiments under the Higher-Up’s orders, he heard rumours that it was absolutely brutal down in the lower Levels. Up here, the most blood he saw was when prisoners would get themselves into trouble and meet the fists of an Apoid.

He himself had never had to witness the torture of the Facility first hand.

Level One patients usually gave up their information relatively quickly, or they were simply just captured soldiers with no purpose. Noah hadn’t been in the Facility for long, simply getting accustomed to his patients and their medical records to prepare him later for the future.

Scientists of the faint of heart wouldn’t be able to handle the lower levels. Noah had heard the others telling him that, praying that he toughened himself up now, or be forced to live with the initial crippling, exhausting nightmares from the torture rooms. Scientists had often experienced mental breaks in their composure, compared to staff like the robotic Apoids or the busy Personnel. He knew he was doing this for greater good, and of course he’d come face to face with the idea of physically torturing people eventually.

Noah just didn’t think he would jump to the worst Level of them all. Where the scientists were known to be sadistic and ruthless, and trained interrogaters would mercilessly torture these people without a care.

Noah shivered. His mouth was incredibly dry at the thought.

“Ma’am,” he began anxiously, stepping closer. “I have patients on Level One that I’m assigned to. Besides, I don’t think I’m qualified to take on a patient from Level Nine.” 

The Higher-Up shook her head firmly. It was always unnerving staring into those plain masks, unable to tell what expressions they were making when they spoke. Noah hadn’t been down in the Facility for long, but many other scientists told him they don’t tred down into the depths very often. 

“You’ve been ordered to drop all of your previous patients. Prisoner Seven is all we want you to focus on from now on.” 

Noah let out a trembling breath. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing; the idea of crawling down into the depths of Level Nine was making his heart pound in his chest, banging against his ribcage. Dark imagery and the foul smell of blood crossed his mind for a moment, and his stomach sank. 

The Higher-Up tilted her head. 

“And regarding your qualifications,” she said sharply, almost spitting out the word in annoyance. “You’ve been sufficiently trained to deal with possible scenarios as far as Level Nine. You know what’s expected of you should anything go wrong.” 

“Yes, but only in simulations,” he breathed out, fiddling with the sleeves of his long, white coat. “If I were to—”  

“Then, you are perfectly qualified,” she snapped, interrupting him without a second thought. “You know the procedures that are expected of you. Are you arguing with me?” 

The cold threat pressed hard against his throat. He swallowed down his pride, eyes stealing glimpses at the Apoids by her side. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. 

“No, ma’am.” 

She shifted, turning on her heel. “Very well. Personnel will debrief you once you are escorted down there.” 

There was no arguing with that. Noah had no choice but to follow close behind her, the two Apoids shadowing them close behind as they went. A bundle of nerves set alight in his stomach. The reality of going down to Level Nine was sinking into his skin, making him crawl and itch with a terrible unease. It made him wonder why he was assigned to a patient that should already have someone working on them. 

Did they—? 

He swallowed, stepping quietly into the elevator. No conversation was exchanged between them, protocol setting in quickly enough. He shouldn’t think like that. It was dangerous, but the place was crawling with hundreds of Apoids. Should anything go wrong, he was well protected. 

Noah’s amber eyes landed on the silver, round buttons above them. It lit up on four, then descended down to five, six, seven, eight…

Anxiety gnawed maliciously at his stomach. 

The moment it brightened up on the number nine, and a loud beeping noise broke the thick silence, he had to remind himself to breathe properly. He didn’t have much time before the doors were sliding open, and the Higher-Up was leading him out of the small, bleak box. 

Apoids were lining the walls, clutching their rifles tight and stood in an unmoving pose. They could have almost been mistaken for statues, and Noah resisted the urge to look at them as he went past, feeling as though he was going deeper into the lion’s den. He was guided into a room he recognised from Level One, one of the torture rooms used for their interrogations and experiments. It was empty, Noah was relieved to see, apart from some people dressed in grey uniforms. 

The Higher-Up left not a moment later, but the Apoids remained posted on either side of the door, where Noah assumed they would be staying while Prisoner Seven was sent for and retrieved. 

“Noah, isn’t it?” 

He gazed wearily at the Personnel that approached him, a short woman with her red hair braided behind her back. She was smiling at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was holding a file to her chest, covered by her arms. It took him a second to gather his wandering thoughts, and he slowly nodded his head. 

She handed him the file, a pristine wad of papers with the title “Prisoner Seven” printed along the top. No doubt, this was everything regarding the prisoner medically, written by who had come before him. There were a lot of handwritten notes in scruffy writing, but he decided to look over it in a moment. 

“We need you to check his bloods. The scientists down here have been experimenting with some drug induced methods of torture, and Prisoner Seven hasn’t been acting favourably. We’d like you to check that everything is in order, as well as work on the drug during your time here.” 

Noah tried to process all that information with a frazzled brain, but his mind had latched onto the prospect of there being a scientist before him. It made his stomach sink with this knowing dread, not sure if he wanted to know. Maybe their contract ran out and they left the Facility. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathlessly chuckled. “But what happened to the last scientist?”

The Personnel cleared her throat. “She died.” 

Noah’s eyes widened. “Oh.” 

“Unfortuantly,” she jumped in, as if trying to ease his visible, rising nervousness. “Prisoner Seven got loose and murdered her. But you’ll have more security in the room with you, so you’ll be perfectly safe.” 

Perfectly safe. The thought made him laugh. He wondered if the previous scientist had been told the same thing.

He swallowed nervously, glancing around the room. He found an assortment of tools already laid out for his use. He walked over to them, examining the long needle under the bright lights. It was better quality than anything he got on Level One. He glanced at the clock, trying to settle his nerves.

“What time will Prisoner Seven arrive?”

“In twenty minutes. Please take your time to set up.”

They left, and Noah was alone with the two Apoid’s standing quietly and completely motionless by the door. He sucked in a sharp breath, quickly turning away from them. His heart was pounding away in his chest.

He was nervous.

There was no doubt about it. He had never handled a patient that was higher than a Level One. He was completely out of his depth, and yet why him? Why choose Noah? Surely there were plenty of other more trained scientists on Level Nine they could use?

Soon enough, twenty minutes passed.

He heard the door being unlocked, and soon, more Apoids were flooding in. With them, clutched in their gloved hands, was Prisoner Seven. He was cuffed securely, hands and arms twisted behind his back, as well as an interlinking chain between his ankle cuffs, not allowing him a chance to run very far if he bolted. He was blindfolded and gagged, with guns trained on him from every angle.

He could have swore he even saw the crackle of a taser.

Noah watched the intense scene with a heavy heart. They moved carefully over towards the table in the middle of the room, which was attached with multiple opened cuffs and loose leather straps. He stayed clear as they began to unfasten his blindfold. Prisoner Seven was tall, and big. It was clear he was a formidable soldier. Broad shoulders, muscular limbs, piercing, lidded eyes.

Oh. Noah stiffened slightly.

Prisoner Seven seemed to be staring intently at him.

Those sharp eyes took in every little detail, and Noah had to let his gaze linger elsewhere after growing immensely uncomfortable. He was probably thinking of eleven different ways to kill him with his bare hands, no doubt. These were some of the most dangerous men and women to exist.

The Apoids safely and successful secured him in the cuffs, and then proceeded to swiftly pin him down with the leather straps. They were tightened impossibly tight, leaving it virtually impossible for anybody to get out. Noah felt slightly more at ease knowing he was restrained like that. Most of the Apoids left, now only leaving four in the room. They kept their guns trained on Prisoner Seven, even while it was time for Noah to get to work.

Prisoner Seven was still gazing at him with curious eyes, and Noah attempted to ignore it. He glanced at the Apoids, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m taking the gag out.”

One of them nodded once.

Noah tried to ignore the sickly sweat that was beading on the back of his neck as he slowly reached forward, tugging the gag away with a firm pull. As he did, Prisoner Seven jerked under the restraints violently.

Noah leapt back with a small cry, feet staggering, desperate to steer clear of him. A quiet, rumbling laughter filled the room not a moment later, but the noise didn’t ease the sudden stab of fear that had grasped his heart. He gripped the gag tightly in his fist, a wave of embarrassment smacking into him.

“Funny,” Prisoner Seven mused, his lips pulling into a small smirk. “Something the matter, doc?”

Noah calmed the rapid beating of his heart. He took a deep breath, and slowly shuffled forward again. He was restrained down. There was no way he could slip out of them. He steadied his breathing, steeling his nerves.

He shot a glance at the Apoids, their fingers easing back off the trigger. He sighed heavily.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Noah said, keeping his tone of voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t make eye contact with the patient as trained, and took out his clipboard to begin running through the essential questions. “Please answer honestly for your own well being.”

Prisoner Seven’s eyes fell back to the ceiling, licking his dry lips. His smirk had gone, eyes lidded and dark. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Noah kept his eyes pinned on the paper. Even though his voice was steady and calm, his heart was pounding away in his chest like a relentless drum. It was hard to keep his breathing slow and concise, but he tried to assure himself that four highly trained, and armed, guards were in the room with him.

For what it was worth, Prisoner Seven was relatively complicit when it came to answering him. They were just standard questions to determine if there were any visible signs of blood clots or discomfort, but Noah was pleased it was going smoothly when his patient seemed to be healthy.

He moved onto the practical side of it, arguably the more dangerous. The cuff was fastened in a convenient spot, and so he got to work cleaning an area he was targeting.

“Squeeze your right hand into a fist, please,” Noah asked gently, his gloved fingers searching for a visible vein. Prisoner Seven did so, watching him intently.

“What’s your name, doc?”

Noah’s teeth clenched slightly. “You understand I cannot answer that.”

“We’re going to be getting to know each other quite intimately,” Prisoner Seven hummed. “Your name. It’s all I ask for.”

Noah’s brows flickered in annoyance, prodding for a vein. He was growing increasingly frustrated that he couldn’t find one suitable enough, and Prisoner Seven’s voice was distracting him.

“Please be quiet,” he murmured. His patient hummed.

“You’ve already broken protocol by talking to me this like this,” he spoke. “What’s the harm?”

Noah cursed under his breath, the needle fumbling in his hand. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, his voice shaking slightly as he motioned to one of the Apoids.

“Can...someone just loosen this strap for me, please?” He snapped, trying to calm down the overwhelming sensation building in his chest. Prisoner Seven was right; he was only meant to speak when necessary, not answering a patient if not needed. One Apoid slowly stepped forward, lowering his rifle slightly, but clearly still on guard. He’d been expecting him to do as he requested, but he spoke instead.

“Is it necessary?” He asked stoicly. Noah was almost shocked at the voice behind the mask. He’d never heard one speak before. Apoid’s had always been the silent and deadly powerhouses that even Noah was afraid to walk past alone. The modulation from the mask made his spine tingle, and it took him a second to snap out of his embarrassing gawking. Gathering himself, he nodded his head.

“It’s hard to find a vein when both restraints are restricting the blood flow here,” he explained, the words giving him time to regain his composure. “It’ll be for a minute.”

The Apoid slowly nodded his head. Rifles were pointed directly at Prisoner Seven as the one who spoke eased the tightness of the cuff slightly. Prisoner Seven remained still, and Noah finally managed to press the tip of the needle into his vein.

He drew the blood out carefully, and then covered the puncture sight with nimble fingers. The Apoid returned the cuff back to normal, and smoothly stepped back into his original position. It was deathly quiet while Noah checked the blood samples. He scribbled down everything he needed, before returning back to Prisoner Seven’s side once more.

“You haven’t had any adverse effects to the drugs, and you’re clean,” he explained steadily. “Any nausea or light headedness?”

Prisoner Seven’s eyes flickered over to him. “No.”

Noah sighed and motioned towards the Apoids. “Then we’re done here.”

He stayed back gratefully against the wall as the guards proceeded to do their diligent job. His eyes were glued onto the camera at the top of the wall, wondering quietly to himself who was watching, and what this was all about. As Prisoner Seven was being gagged once more, his piercing eyes landed on him again.

“Name’s Cash, doc.”

An Apoid surged forward, butt of the rifle slamming into his temple. Noah’s spine stiffened when he saw a flash of red, and the gag was pulled tight around his mouth not a second later. He was being dragged out of the room before Noah had a chance to process everything that happened.

His shoulder relaxed an inch. It was over. He’d done it.

His eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed an Apoid was still in the room with him. It was the one that had spoken, staring at him quietly from his spot near the table.

Noah frowned, feeling a little awkward. “Can I help you?”

The guard tilted his head. It was just as shocking the second time when he opened his mouth to talk. “I’m assigned to you. I’m escorting you back to your room.”

His throat closed up. “My what—?” He spluttered, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re assigned to me?”

“Each scientist on Level Nine has an assigned Apoid for safety reasons,” the man rumbled carefully. Noah blinked in confusion.

“And my room?”

“You’ll be staying on Level Nine. Your things have already been transferred from Level One.”

What the—?

The room almost began spinning as Noah tore off his gloves, dumping them in the bin with a restricted lungs. It really was going to be permanent then. An assigned Apoid? Some part of him couldn’t quite believe it. Numbly, and through automaticness, he went to sort out all of the equipment and information, but the guard placed a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, and the Apoid quickly retreated. Was this guard new or something? Noah had never seen one act like this before. Speaking and even touching him. His thoughts whirred. Then again, this was a different job. This Apoid was assigned to him.

“Personnel will handle that,” the guard told him. Noah blinked away the spots in his vision. “You were called down here quickly. They require you to rest first and proceed with your research tomorrow.”

He quietly nodded his head, finding there was no choice to agree. Research was something he was used to. As long as he was confined to that, he felt like he would be alright.

Noah allowed himself to be escorted to his new room, keeping his head low and his eyes to the ground as trained to do.

tag list – @suspicious-whumping-egg @sunshiline-writes @rabidrabidme @whumpatize-me-captain @thegirlwholived1213 @reverie1234 @unforgiven235 @morning-star-whump @seaweed-is-cool @d-cs @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-me @gala1981 @pirefyrelight @whumpterful-beeeeee @miss-unicorn0907 @avidrambling @anoontjecanush @2in1whump @ha-ha-one

[befuddled-calico-whump]

someone should whump Greer

pretty plausible, if he were ever caught by the Riot Kings

[cyberwhumper]

Imran had already known, going in, that the conditions of the breeding facility where he now found himself standing would be less than ideal when compared to his old employer. He knew the smaller budget would reflect on the conditions the animals were kept, how the entire process was executed, and what the odds of the transaction working out were. Yet he is still shocked when the cages are small, cramped, filthy. His heart aches for each and every single one of the biopets kept within, but he knows he realistically can't possibly save them all.

Just one. Just the one. That would be enough.

With every step further into the facility, the mental image of Horus degrades in his mind. Guilt gnaws at the forefront of his conscience, and it comes crashing down heavily once he sees with his own eyes what had become of the once powerful animal he had met all those years ago.

Tied to the center of the tiny room, the creature barely had any slack to move. Its body is covered in a litany of sores and bruises, and the emaciated skin clings to bone like a tight-fitting suit. As soon as its gaze meets the handler's, a shrill noise leaves its mouth. Terror, it seems, was all that remained. The knot in Imran's stomach feels so tight it's nauseating.

He hopes to appease the animal despite the handler's amused comments over the pointlessness of the effort. Horus doesn't look at him. Doesn't even seem to recognize him. It pulls away from Imran as best as it can, tail pinned between its exhausted legs, tears streaming down its face, body shaking so hard it makes the chains holding it in place clink. Talking to it has no effect. Even touching it, an act that would have always promptly elicited a bite response, does nothing.

Imran barely remembers the rest of the transaction.

At some point money had exchanged hands, the biopet was sedated, and he now found himself clutching the battered creature tight to his body as if it could possibly flee. The walk back to his vehicle feels shameful.

What have I done? No. I couldn't possibly have known this would happen. But it only happened because of me, didn't it?

The device on the back of its skull has been removed. Vandermeer leaves no loose ends. Imran doesn't want to think of what the withdrawals must have been like for the animal to go through. Death would have been a kinder choice than this.

The disgraced doctor swallows his guilt, and gently lays the biopet on the backseat. The drive would be long, but the worst, he hoped, was already over.

I'm so sorry, Horus. I promise I'll take care of you this time.

[OC INDEX]

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Mermay Special

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: mer/vampire whumper, mer/vampire whumpee, whumper-turned-whumpee, dehydration, claustrophobia, starvation, torture, brief death wish, recovery, caretaking

have something special for mermay :) inspired by this fanart my friend lostie drew 2 years ago!!

-

It hadn’t rained in a week, Jim’s freshwater had run out the day before, and he was going to die.

He knew he was going to die. Kane would come back to feed, and his body wouldn’t be able to hold up anymore, and he would die. Either with Kane’s jaws clamped around him, or later, alone in the damp cold sand.

He wasn’t thirsty enough to be desperate yet, not desperate enough to drink the abundant saltwater taunting him from his prison’s little beach. He knew it would only make him die faster. It was poison.

It hardly mattered at this point. Months with no rescue likely meant no rescue at all, and this was hardly a life. Still, something cried out in him, wanting to live.

Jim scrambled against the rock as he saw that telltale fin start to poke out of the water, more and more until the vampire revealed himself in full, the head and torso of a man and the tail-end of a shark. Not that there was anywhere for Jim to use his worthless legs to run to.

“Food.” Kane slung half a seal onto the surface, raw yet unbloodied.

Jim cautiously crept forward. “I need water.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at him, then splashed him, leaving him soaked.

“Fresh water,” he pressed, pointing up to the clear sky. “Rainwater. I need it or I’ll die. Please, just take me back to the beach, any beach where there’s humans. I won’t be any use to you dead. You’re not some animal, you know this isn’t right, please!”

“Human mine,” Kane dismissed firmly.

Jim sobbed drily. “I can’t. I can’t. You’re going to kill me.”

“Eat.” Kane shoved the meat toward him, making him flinch back. “Then I eat.”

Jim looked to the sky, Kane’s hungry eyes never leaving him as he devoured the vampire’s leftovers. If it didn’t rain tomorrow, he wouldn’t make it another day.

“Human.” Kane gestured him forward as soon as he finished.

“No, no, I don’t want to!” Jim backed up to the rock again, even knowing it was useless.

Kane huffed, climbing up onto the sand. “Food,” he called him now, a warning tone to his voice, piercing red eyes growing angry.

“Stop,” Jim insisted, squeezing his eyes shut. “No!”

A clawed hand grabbed his leg, any attempt to kick him away futile. He couldn’t match a vampire’s strength on his best day, and this was not his best day.

He cried out as sharp teeth dug into flesh once again, feeling much like the seal in his stomach.

-

Kane whined softly, squirming against the glass.

The fishers had put him in a smaller tank again. He couldn’t be sure–though he learned more of their language every awful day, there were still gaps–but he was near-certain it was a game to them, at this point, how small of a space they could force him to live in. He didn’t need to know their language to see their smirks.

He hadn’t even meant to break the last one. He had been trying so hard this time, and he’d been asleep when it happened. Even so, the fishers left him gasping on the floor in a pile of broken glass for hours. Even the tiny tank was better than none at all. How far he’d fallen, that he could consider this lucky.

Kane wished he could go back to complaining about not having room to swim. He would do anything to go back to the first tank. This one hardly afforded him room to move, to breathe. No matter how he tried to position himself, he always ended up touching the walls, his tail bunched up uncomfortably.

The water was too salty, burning his gills with every breath. He didn’t dare complain about that again. Last time, they left him in that horrible freshwater humans love so much until he screamed and bled to the point where any other fish would die.

But he was a vampire, and there was no driftwood here.

Every time a fisher walked past, Kane tensed. Some carried cruel metal tools, meant for fish already dead, though he’d already known their sting far more than he’d like. Some carried cruel metal tools and looked at him, making him wish he had anywhere to hide.

“Comfy?” a fisher mocked, tapping the glass with the end of his fishing stick, the unavoidable vibrations reverberating wherever he touched it.

Kane shook his head, hoping the answer was acceptable.

“Good. �̴̢̛̙̃̎̀̏͌�̶͙̪̉̃̐͋̈̈́̉͝�̵̛̹̪̳̾́̏̂̏̊͊�̴̤̬͖͖̬̹̣̏�̴̧̹͓͒̋͝�̸͎̝̂̅͋�̴̧͚͍̼̠͌�̵̤̜̻̦̬̄͒̏̃ little display case, leech. �̸͖̞̩̳̒̿͐̚͝ͅ�̴̢̫̺̟̺̬̯͔̋̄�̶̧̺̯͚̳͎͉̆͆̀̉̍�̵͚͈͛̌̑̚�̷̰͝͝�̴̢̡̯̗̖̥̈́̑̄̅̃̀̎̕ feed you this week.”

He perked up at the mention of food, whining louder this time.

The fisher laughed, flicking one of those foul little ash-and-paper cylinders into his tank. “Eat it.”

It would make him sick, but far worse would come of disobeying orders. Maybe the fisher would allow him some food if he obeyed. Kane wriggled until he could position himself enough to reach the bottom of the tank, scooped it up, and swallowed it down.

Another fisher joined him, saying something he couldn’t understand and nodding at his tank before approaching.

Nothing good ever happened when he was taken from his tank.

“No, no, no!” he wailed as his head breached the surface, his salt-lined gills burning all the more against unforgiving air.

-

Jim didn’t go to the beach anymore.

After months stranded and years after living in fear, he never thought he’d get even ten miles near a coastline. Not even twenty. Yet here he was, getting within two, just to see the damn vampire. Just to confirm it’s him.

The scars on his arms and legs floated the vague line between hurt and not, leaving him unsure if it was in his head.

The smell of distant saltwater made him want to vomit.

Jim greeted the fishers in a daze, letting them lead him to the vampire that might be his.

And there he was.

Kane looked worse for wear. He was littered with more scars than Jim was, trapped in a tank barely wider than his body, and even his body looked near-emaciated. His wide eyes locked onto Jim with sudden, harsh terror, and he squirmed as if to try to get away.

“Why’s he… in there?” he asked dumbly.

“Gotta keep a vampire reeeal secure, you of all people know you can’t trust the fuckers. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. Can’t move around, don’t have the energy to fight, knows it’s got hurt coming if it tries, that’s the safe way to keep ‘em,” the fisher explained.

Jim couldn’t look him in the eyes after that, so he looked at the tank instead.

“Kane?”

Kane whimpered, pressed against the back of the tank, though that only left him what looked like a couple inches away from the front of it. Jim felt claustrophobic just looking at it.

“So?” the fisher prompted.

“This is him.” Jim took a step forward, hesitantly pressing a hand to the glass. He was really here, powerless to hurt him again.

But Kane was hurt, and terrified, and trapped somewhere small and uncomfortable. There was no way he could leave him here.

“Do you think… I could take him?”

-

Every day, humans came to the aquarium in droves. As an unending mercy, Kane’s tank here was large, with ample places to hide. He never came out while the humans were visiting.

No one hurt him at the aquarium. He always had enough to eat at the aquarium. The workers always smiled at him when he surfaced for his meals. Not the malicious smiles of the fishers, but real ones, like they were friends. They talked to him like he was a person, and he was getting better at talking back, and they didn’t even get mad at him when he wouldn’t come out for the guests. Bellamy slipped him an extra fish and told him he deserved it for being a trooper. He didn’t know what a trooper was, but it sounded good when he said it.

Maybe he would start showing himself, one day, just to make them happy. Maybe if it ever stopped being scary.

As it stood, there was only one guest Kane would leave his hidey-hole for. Thankfully, they allowed him to come just after closing, away from the crowds.

“Hey,” Jim greeted. “Just came to, uh, check up on you. Make sure you’re still doing alright.”

Kane couldn’t speak underwater, and Jim was nowhere close to the top of the roomy tank, so he nodded. He looked at his hand, trying to remember the sign for a second, before making a ‘thumbs-up’.

“You’re okay? You’re happy? No one’s hurting you? They’re feeding you good? Helping you with medical stuff?” Jim asked.

Kane nodded again, smiling this time. He tried not to show his teeth.

Jim sat by the tank. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, man. You know how long ‘til the doc clears you to go home?”

It wouldn’t be long, now. He was gaining the weight back, his injuries had healed, and the exercises he’d been given were helping him learn to swim normally again. Soon, he would be able to survive in the ocean, just like before any of this nightmare had ever happened.

Bellamy said they could do a program together, if he wanted, where guests would come to learn about vampires and ask him questions. He said Kane didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but winked and promised him some of his blood if he gave it a try.

No fisher could catch him again if he stayed at the aquarium. People would protect him at the aquarium.

Kane shrugged, not sure he would ever leave.

-

sorry all i can write are AUs lol <3 they're warming me up for the main series i prommy

taglist in reblogs!

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 19

Blood Trail - Abandoned Cabin - One way Out - "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

Alternative: Shivering

Whumper could smell breakfast cooking as they made their way into the kitchen.

Whumpee huddled close to the gas stove as they flipped the eggs.

Whumper studied them for a few seconds before Whumpee looked at them.

"Please tell me you're not sick", Whumper sighed, knowing they had just gotten over a cold last week.

"I don't think so... just really cold", Whumper held their hand close to the flame, "I hope you're okay with a hot breakfast."

"Sounds good to me", Whumper nodded.

Whumper was handed a cup of coffee.

"Let me feel your hands again", Whumper frowned when they felt Whumpee's knuckle brush against them.

"You're ice cold", Whumper squeezed Whumpee's hand.

Whumpee shivered a little, "yes Master, I know."

"Go ahead and get some warmer clothes on" Whumper looked over them, "no wonder your cold, walking around in a short sleeve shirt and shorts. You're not even wearing socks."

Whumpee nodded. They didn't want to tell Whumper that they had already checked earlier. They didn't have anything.

After breakfast was served, Whumpee went up to the closet that Whumper set aside for them to stay in. The house was a one bedroom, so that was the best Whumper could do.

"It's a walk-in, so you should have plenty of space, and a mattress fits in here", Whumper sighed when they explained the situation to their newly kidnapped slave, "I figure you would like a little privacy."

Whumpee thought back to those early days. They didn't fight to get away from their kidnapper. They were a little too scared to be defiant. Whumper was fairly kind to them. The rules were easy to follow, and punishments were possible but rarely came.

"Taking a long time to find warmer clothing", Whumper leaned into the closet and saw Whumpee pulling things out of the tote their clothes were stored in.

"I uhm, don't have any.... warmer... clothes", Whumpee looked up at them nervously.

Whumper frowned, "you don't?"

"No Master, I think they were thrown away.", Whumpee looked longingly at their blanket, "I have a hoodie", Whumpee held up the item.

"That will not keep you warm though", Whumper looked at it and saw the holes, "I think I remember throwing away some things this past summer because of how old they were. I guess you are getting some new clothes."

"Wait really?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

Whumper nodded, "after breakfast we'll go through and see what else you need. Do you at least have socks?"

"I do, but a lot of them have holes", Whumpee lifted their feet to show.

"I have a feeling this will be an expensive trip", Whumper frowned at the holes on the bottom of Whumpee's feet, "I guess that's what I get for keeping you here. You deserve some new clothes though."

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee smiled weakly.

Whumpee followed Whumper around the clothing section.

Whumper read through their list.

"You needed everything.... even underwear", Whumper frowned, "I can't believe I've been so neglectful of you while you've done so good to take care of me."

Whumpee felt a little overwhelmed at the selections. They held on tightly to the cart.

"We will, of course, get the essentials. If you see something you like, we can get a few pieces you pick", Whumper continued without noticing Whumpee.

Whumpee took a deep breath before nodding.

"You doing alright?", Whumper noticed the silence finally.

"There is a lot here. Lots of colors and people", Whumpee whispered.

"I'm sorry, you haven't been out for a while. It's probably a bit overwhelming", Whumper led them to a corner, "let's start here. You can get acclimated in a smaller space. When you feel comfortable we can move on."

Whumpee nodded again.

A few things were now in the cart... all picked by Whumper.

"Are you going to pick anything out", Whumper eyed Whumpee as they went to another part of the clothing department.

"I picked out the pants" Whumpee whispered.

"You picked the color. I already knew you wanted the black pair, but I was trying to get you to answer", Whumper looked at a sweater for themself.

"I'm sorry, I forgot how busy stores were", Whumpee fidgetted with their fingers.

Whumper nodded, "I guess you need to get out more."

Whumper led Whumpee to a section of the store for groceries. They wanted to give Whumpee a little break from the clothes.

Whumpee stumbled a little beside the cart when they stared at something for too long.

"Careful Whumpee", Whumper grinned at some passer bys.

"Sorry", Whumpee sighed.

Whumpee glanced back a few times before they rounded a corner.

Whumpee was a little more helpful in the groceries. Dinners were planned so Whumpee could grab the ingredients needed.

Whumper led them back to the clothes after a few snacks were grabbed.

They walked past the spot Whumpee had been staring at earlier.

Whumper saw it this time. Whumpee had a small grin on their face.

"You see something you like", Whumper chuckled, "finally."

"No Master", Whumpee shook their head nervously.

Whumper looked around, "Shh, don't call me that here", they whispered. "I know that face. You made the same one when I said you could get your chips. What did you see?"

Whumpee blushed.

"Come on, show me", Whumper pressed.

Whumpee turned and awkwardly shuffled back to what they were looking at.

Whumper followed curiously.

Whumpee looked down and pointed at a rack full of slippers.

"Oh, you want some slippers. That's fine. Which ones?", Whumper smiled.

"Uhm, these ones... mas... uh", Whumpee looked at them nervously.

Whumper took a closer look at what Whumpee was embarrassed about. A giant smirk now on their face.

"Oh, I see", Whumper chuckled.

Whumpee had chosen slippers that looked like bear paws. Complete with leathery claws.

"Yes, those will be cute. This is the only thing you've actually picked out today for clothes, so that tells me that you really like them", Whumper took one from the hook, "you can get them."

"Really?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

"Yes", Whumper nodded, "let's find your size."

Whumper laughed when they glanced over at Whumpee as they drove home.

Whumpee sat in the passenger seat and cuddled the bag that held the slippers.

Whumpee looked at Whumper nervously.

"You're okay, just being adorable", Whumper grinned.

"Thankyou for the slippers master... I'm really excited to wear them", Whumpee smiled.

Whumper nodded, "we're almost home, so you won't have to wait much longer."

Whumper had a few tasks to do before dinner, so Whumpee went through the clothes on their own and was in the middle of washing the laundry.

Whumper peaked into the laundry room and watched Whumpee as they clicked their slippers together excitedly.

They turned and nervously backed away when they saw Whumper.

"Sorry Master, just doing my chores. I got a little sidetracked", Whumpee whispered, "I really like these."

"I'm glad you are enjoying them. You are washing everything now?", Whumper looked past Whumpee at a pile.

"Yes Master, I decided to do all of the laundry so it would get done", Whumpee sighed, "you shouldn't have bought all of these things for me though. I didn't deserve it all. Even... even these slippers master. I shouldn't have shown a want like that."

"Whumpee", Whumper straightened, "you do a lot around here. You put up with a lot around here too. Since when have I said anything against you having wants and desires", Whumper stepped closer to Whumpee, "you wanted the slippers right? They make you happy?"

"Y-yes master", Whumpee nodded.

"Are they keeping you warm? This morning I found huddled against the stove to get warm. You did indeed need these warmer clothes. You might be my slave, but I do want to take care of you."

Whumpee quickly wiped away a tear, "thankyou master."

"You're welcome", Whumper grinned, "alright I'm in my bedroom if you need me", Whumper started to leave, "I want to see you wearing your new clothes once they're washed as well."

"Yes master", Whumpee smiled and looked down at their slippers again.

They giggled as they wiggled their toes, causing the slippers to wiggle.

"So comfy", Whumpee whispered.

P.s. I do actually have a pair of these slippers. Best things I've bought.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

[whumpitisthen]

Whumpee waking up in a hospital or at home, restrained for their own safety.

Maybe they're sick, maybe they are tired and delirious, maybe just horribly thoroughly conditioned. They don't even sit up, just pull a little on the light restraints and look around wildly. They whimper with anxiety at their new surroundings. Maybe they are scared of unfamiliar places, or think they are still back with whumper.

Caretaker is quick to the rescue, yet ineffective and inefficient. No matter what they say, it's like whumpee doesn't even hear them. They just keep making themself smaller, freezing up, watching for threats, babbling and stuttering out words that make no sense.

They are so confused they start crying, and caretaker's heart breaks apart at the sight.

[tianablackwell]

Irony

Whumpee grew up privileged, to say the least. He had bodyguards, a castle, a title, a ballroom, the latest tech, and, of course, his own crown. Maids respectfully bowed in his presence. Butlers would come to his aid instantly the moment he snapped his fingers.

Citizens knew to never speak bad about their crowned prince because the last person who did was never seen again.

Whumpee hardly ever left the castle or his room. Most of the time he spent staring out into space, tears in his eyes. They rarely fell, but they were always there.”

“Try to look happy for once - you don’t want your bride to get a bad first impression of you, dear. And stop crying, it’s not manly like.” His mother had smiled coldly at him that morning, giving orders to the maids to dress him up in his best for dinner that night.

It didn’t matter, anyways. He wasn’t going to dinner, and he wasn’t going to meet his “bride”. The bags he had packed full of his necessities were evidence of that.

It was surprisingly easy to run away since hardly any guards recognized him anyway. His torn and dirty clothes he had crafted just for today made him look like a gardener and no one paid him any mind. Everything was going perfectly, until he reached the woods.

He wasn’t stupid enough to try to fight the giant bear, but apparently he was stupid enough to not look where he was going. So now, here he was, lying at the bottom of a steep hill with an old bear trap caught firmly in his leg.

Life was truly ironic sometimes. But hey, at least he did what he said he would. Some achievements, like missing dinner, are smaller than others, but it doesn’t lessen their significance.

Dying alone in the woods wasn’t something he had on his bucket list, but here he was. And as much as he hated it, he felt as if this was his fate. And so, he calmly closed his eyes and let the tears fall. He didn’t even notice the approaching footsteps.

“You know kid, I was supposed to kill you. And now, I kinda feel compelled to help you.”

[chiharuuu22]

Today, after staying at home for a long time during the recovery period, Caretaker took Whumpee, who was getting better, to go for a walk. Whumpee agreed because he felt ready to be outside.

Caretaker gives Whumpee the clothes he usually wears before. Comfortable casual clothing for walk. After all this time of only wearing pajamas all the time, he was finally able to wear his favorite clothes again. The smell is still the same and the Caretaker will definitely take care of it well.

Whumpee was wearing his pants and had just gotten his head out of his t-shirt when he lifted the collar of his t-shirt which was hanging down.

What? Wait.

The collar of his t-shirt had just slipped back down to his shoulders and Whumpee realized something. Whumpee looked at his two shrunken wrists. In fact, when Whumpee pulled the sides of his t-shirt, he felt the distance expand. He also realized that the trousers he was wearing were too loose.

He's that skinny now? This is normal clothing, right?

Whumpee hobbled over to the mirror and looked at himself. His heart sank as he looked at his reflection. Thin cheeks, oversized t-shirts and trousers, and smaller wrists.

Is that him?

"Whumpee? Are you ready? Let's go out; where are you going first?"

Caretaker's cheerful voice suddenly stopped when she looked at Whumpee who was frozen in front of the mirror. A second later, she realized what was on Whumpee's mind. Caretaker walked carefully to Whumpee's side, hugging and stroking his back gently.

"It's okay. You're still recovering. Let's get you back to your normal weight, okay?" said Caretaker whose hand didn't stop stroking Whumpee's back.

Whumpee nodded and tried to smile. "I don't think I'll need new clothes for some time."

Caretaker knew Whumpee was trying to joke in his own way, even though the sentence made Caretaker sad. Caretaker smiled, then adjusted the collar of Whumpee's t-shirt and attached a safety pin so it wouldn't slide down again.

"Let's go out. Let's try to eat the ice cream you wanted a month ago," said Caretaker as she led Whumpee out.

Whumpee lost quite a lot of weight after everything he's been through, and Caretaker tries to get him back to normal. It wasn't easy because Whumpee was still recovering and there wasn't much food he could digest properly.

Therefore, when Caretaker finally saw the number on the scale, which had increased by two kilos in the following three weeks, Caretaker was the one who jumped up and down with joy and kissed Whumpee's thin cheek who smiled broadly as if he were proud of his progress.

Hey, gaining weight isn't always bad, right?

[whump-thoughts]

I am once again thinking about living weapon/guard dog whumpee's....

A living weapon whumpee who is just so extremely conditioned that they will not even sleep or eat if not given permission to do so by their master

A guard dog whumpee that is meant to be at their masters side at all times and also be alert to anyone that could be a threat to them but due to having spent so much time just trapped in a tiny and sound-proofed room being tortured for god knows how long, big crowds or even just like, multiple stimuli will cause them to have sensory overload

Living weapon whumpee that is legitimately terrifying, like they have and will kill at the command of their master and will obey the whims of them without any objections as well.

Multiple living weapon whumpee's! They are all deeply conditioned but also feel a very strong kinship towards each other, even if they cannot show it due to the conditioning

And how about their caretaker's?

A caretaker that is smaller and weaker than whumpee, being unable to carry or restraint them when necessary, yet still is determined to help them

A caretaker that is younger than whumpee and is both scared of and hesitant to help them!, whumpee being completely subservient to them does not calm their fear in the slightest

A caretaker that has given up on deconditioning whumpee, simple trying keeping them in a soothed passive state, where they don't harm others or themselves, but are not healed just using their own conditioning in a different way.

Idk man, sorry if something is written weirdly, it's 3 am and English is not my first language, hope ya thought these ideas were interesting at least.

[bedtimescenarios]

Please write more mind control whump your piece on it was so good

Thank you so much!! Here you go, hope you enjoy! Mind control is so messed up but so fun to write :))

Lillies

CW: manhandling (brief), non-con touch (not sexual), intimate Whumper, mind control and all the autonomous restrictions that come with it

A pained yelp escapes Whumpee's throat as they're practically thrown inside the room by the hair. They stumble to the ground, head instantly perking upward, just in time to notice Whumper's sharp grin widen. They're well aware of the fact that Whumper could've simply made them go back, yet, to their exasperation, Whumper sometimes prefers manhandling them instead. Perks of having a choice.

As Whumpee nearly bumps into a foot of the luxurious bed in the middle of the room, Whumper calmly steps forward, the smile slowly fading as they speak.

"Oh, Whumpee, what were you doing just now?" their voice resounds, impossibly melodic. It takes everything in Whumpee not to flinch as they take another step towards them, dark eyes scanning the smaller form as if they were a lamb set for slaughter.

The gate was unlocked. Did they truly expect them not to take the chance? To not run from this harrowing paradise they've been trapped inside of for... how long has it been again? Whumpee knows their mind is fucked now, but they don't feel like making matters worse in the moment. As much as they try to remain coherent in finding an excuse, they stammer under Whumper's gaze. They absolutely hate it, how the thought of Whumper's abilities alone makes them shiver. "I didn't try anything- I swear, I was just-"

"I gave you certain privileges, Whumpee." They interrupt, tone calm and composed. With their eyebrows slightly raised, forming a small crease in the middle, they give the impression of scolding a child. "You're making me regret trusting you with them."

Whumpee has to physically keep themselves from scoffing. Privileges, right. As in basic personal autonomy. Being able to use their own body has recently become a reward instead of a guarantee. If they could just reach out, stuff Whumper's mouth with a gag and wipe that grin off their face-

Whumper raises an eyebrow, seemingly amused. "That's not a very nice thing to say." They pause, seemingly contemplating their words for a second before correcting themselves. "Or think."

Whumpee's eyes shut tightly, and they bite back a snarky remark, attempting to also wipe it from their mind. While Whumper chuckles, they gather their thoughts. "Look- I was just in the garden, tending to the lillies, nothing else."

Whumper tsks, taking a step so sudden that Whumpee can't help but shrink back. A hint of a smile crosses their face at the sight, and they kneel down next to Whumpee. They reach out a hand, and Whumpee half expects all their thoughts to vanish. Surprisingly, they simply run their fingers through their hair, untangling it with an uncanny gentleness. A moment of silence passes, one that feels like ages to Whumpee. As a stray strand of hair is neatly tucked away from their face, and the hand rests lightly on their cheek, Whumpee's instincts overcome them and they speak up.

"I won't try to leave again, I promise. Just don't-"

"Don't what, Whumpee?" Whumper coos, their thumb brushing against Whumpee's freckles. "Don't melt your pretty brain, make all the thoughts in it evaporate? Don't mould you into the Whumpee that nuzzles their head against my neck and smiles whenever I hand them a flower?"

Whumpee's eyes flicker. These blackouts they experience- the stretches where they’re aware one moment but wake up weeks later- have only been described to them by Whumper. The possibility, or rather the probability, that Whumper is telling the truth is gnawing away at them. They absolutely dread it- being mindless again and not even conscious enough to remember, let alone retaliate.

"That's not me, and you know it." They tilt their head, their tone slightly passive aggressive, yet laced with fear. Still, Whumper doesn't seem to mind.

"Oh, but it is. I know it's hard to admit it, Whumpee, especially since you've never witnessed any of it." They pause, eyes studying them closely, and the expression that flashes across their face is one Whumpee can't identify. It makes their hair stand on end.

"Perhaps I should let you."

When Whumper leans back on their knees, picks a flower from the decorated vase on the edge of the table and reaches for their hand, Whumpee flinches back. Whumper's mouth curls upwards into a soft smile, and they gently pull one of Whumpee's clenched hands open, placing their own on top. As Whumpee tries to shift away, their grip tightens.

"You should know by now there's no point in fighting me."

That's the cue for a blackout, Whumpee thinks. Their heart skips a beat as they don't. Instead, the dull room seems to brighten, a caleidoscopic mix of sun rays and soft, hued particles of dust. They surround Whumpee like stars, expanding magnificently until they all gather around the still smiling figure in front of them. Whumper's eyes seem to gleam, and Whumpee notices for the first time just how sage flecks are splattered across their brown irises, how their dark hair glows in tints of red in the sun... No. no, no.

When Whumper hands them the flower, they want to smack their hand away, yet their body takes it. Their mouth curls into a smile, and they thank Whumper, their body leaning forward and arms wrapping around Whumper. They want to scream as they feel the embrace tighten. Let me go, Whumpee thinks. And Whumper hears it, Whumpee's certain, as they see a hint of a grin on their face as they pull back.

"You're welcome, Whumpee."

Whumpee's stomach churns- or is it just their mind wishing it could?- when they're pulled to their feet by the hand and they smile wider at their captor. Let me go, they repeat in their mind, but their body doesn't say it. Their body keeps their fingers intertwined with Whumper's, thumb brushing against their knuckles.

"This is my home. Thank you for making me realize it." Their mouth says, and they wish they'd settled for the blackouts.

"You're such a sweetheart," Whumper murmurs. "Let's continue tending to the lillies together."

[whump-or-whatever]

Non-verbal Anxiety/Stress Indicators

For all those whumpees who try to hide how they're feeling from others or might not even realize themselves what they're feeling.

Wringing hands

Tapping/shaking foot or leg

Rubbing hand along leg or arm

Fidgeting with sleeve/zipper/loose string/etc.

Body-focused repetitive behaviours (twirling hair, biting nails, picking at skin, etc.)

Pacing/rocking/inability to sit still

Tapping fingers

Touching/rubbing face

Holding on to a comforting item

Darting eyes

Positioning oneself with back to wall/facing door

Looking around for potential exists/sources of danger

Staring unseeingly into the distance

Trying to make oneself seem smaller (slouching, crossed arms, curling up, leaning on something, etc.)

Angling body away from others

Avoiding eye contact

Tense facial features (clenched jaw, furrowed brow, pursed lips etc.)

Stiff body and posture

Cold hands/chills

Clammy hands/sweating

Numbness in extremities/chest pain

Being unresponsive/unable to speak

Quick shallow breathing/difficulty getting a full breath

Paler than usual complexion

Feel free to add any others y'all can think of!

[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.

[whumper-whimsy]

@augusnippets day 9

Overheating/ Hypothermia/ Dehydration

Captivity, escape attempt, cold whump, recapture

°

Whumper glared around the snowy landscape, pulling his jacket tighter to his skin. It was absolutely freezing out here. Why had Whumpee decided to run off now? The stupid thing was going to freeze to death, for God's sake!

"Whumpee," he shouted irritably, keeping an eye out for his captive. "Where the hell did they run off to?

Then he saw it— a set of footprints in the snow. It seemed that Whumpee had taken a pair of shoes, at least.

Whumper trekked through the snow, frustration pushing him forward. Eventually, he spotted a small shape huddled against a large rock. Whumpee.

"You! What do you think you're doing, Whumpee?" Whumper snapped, storming over.

Immediately upon spotting him, Whumpee jumped up and sprinted away, their movements slower and clumsier than usual. Whumper had no idea how long they had been out here.

"Whumpee, come on. You don't want to die out here, do you?"

Whumpee backed into a flat area of snow with no trees or other features. "I'd rather try to survive out here than live with you!" Whumpee said fiercely, eyes full of rage.

"Whumpee, you're standing on a—"

A large groan sounded in the air, followed by several cracks.

"—lake."

The ice caved under the weight, and Whumpee plummeted into the cold water.

Whumper came to the frozen lake's edge, looking down at the hole Whumpee had fallen through. They were thrashing, slowly sinking and losing their fight against the water's pull.

Whumper reached in, pulling them out and onto the snowy bank. "Are you about done?"

Whumpee was still coughing, spitting the water out onto the ground. Whumper chuckled at the pathetic display.

"Well, I suppose I'll leave it up to you whether you want to come back..." Whumper shrugged, smirking at the captive.

"Please! Take me b- back, I'm so cold—" Whumpee pleaded, shivering. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, take me back..."

Whumper chuckled, scooping Whumpee up in his arms. Whumpee was freezing cold, his eyes hazy and tired.

"Now you know better, don't you? No more running off, dear." Whumper began carrying Whumpee back, feeling the smaller human clinging to his body.

"Y- yes sir, I know n-now..."

"Good."

[whumpy-bi]

Whumpee watches through blurred, rapidly darkening vision as a new person pushes Whumper out of the way.

Even from their position on the floor, Whumpee can identify the newcomer is wearing the same uniform colors as their torturer. Different clothes, but…the same colors, Whumpee was sure of it. They moaned quietly—were they changing shifts?

The voices were distant. They bounced around Whumpee’s head like an echo along cave walls.

“Whumper. What have you done?”

“I…was questioning the detainee, Commander.”

“Questioning?” The newcomer’s voice rose a little. Whumpee half registered them looking down at them. “They’re half dead!”

“Well, they wouldn’t answer my question—“

“They can’t answer any questions, not like that.” They dropped to one knee, ignoring Whumpee’s mumbles of protest as they shined a flashlight across both of their eyes.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill them, Whumper.”

“What does it matter? They’ll probably be executed, anyway—“

“This prisoner is under my authority, do you understand? It will cost all of us if they die, but especially me. Which means you will be the one paying for it. You won’t be questioning them again.”

A long, uncomfortable silence enveloped the cell as the commander pulled Whumpee up to sit against the wall. Whumpee was silent and pliant, their entire body still aching from earlier.

“What did you do to them?”

“Standard procedures…blunt force, electric shocks—“

“Back to back, clearly. And why is there blood on the wall?”

“I…may have thrown them against it.”

“Whumper, you’re dismissed.”

Whumper left without another word, feeling a burning sensation from their commander’s harsh tone.

Whumpee closed their eyes, finally losing themselves to exhaustion as Commander sighed and spoke into their radio.

“Prisoner was injured during questioning. May be a concussion—“ They tapped Whumpee’s jaw. “Hey, stay awake. Stay awake.”

“May be a concussion, prep a medical bed. I’m taking them in myself, Whumper is no longer authorized to deal with this one.”

The words were starting to blur and mush together, Whumpee couldn’t make sense of them anymore. They weakly attempted to squirm, shifting away from the high ranking official looming over them.

“Stop moving.” Their voice wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t quite harsh either. Whumpee found themselves obeying, despite their fear and the increasing haze in their mind.

“I’m not hurting you. Do you understand me?”

Whumpee managed a weak nod.

“Good. You will be questioned again, but not now. Now, you’re receiving medical attention. I’m telling you not to fight us, it will not help you whatsoever. Do you understand?”

Another smaller nod.

“Good. Let’s go, before you actually pass out on me.”

[whumpsoda]

I raise that anon who raised you.

Vampire keeps their thrall hypnotized so they do all the chores without making a fuss and so they don't accidentally hurt themselves bruising or spilling any of their precious blood.

Whumpee breaks out of it randomly by something silly like a sneeze and comes back to hella confusing circumstances.

WOHEO Masterlist

Love this sm. Kinda mad cause I wrote all of it and then realized I was originally gonna go in a very different direction😭

cw: hypnosis, dehumanization, vampire whumper, human whumpee

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Nevan smiled contentedly to himself as a pile of dust flew into the pan. The broom, brittle and old scratched against the hardwood flooring of the mansion. Satisfied, he carefully poured the dust pan’s contents into a nearby trash can.

He had almost done all of the cleaning for the abode, the only room left being one of the many dedicated for storage. Nevan always felt exceedingly proud of himself for fulfilling his sanitation duties so well, even if there wasn’t much to clean when he repeated the same tasks every single day.

Darius liked his home spotless, and Nevan was more than happy to oblige to the wills of his master. Cleaning was the one thing he was notably good at, subsequently making it his sole job in Darius’ home. Besides being a food source, of course.

Transferring to the next room to be cleaned, Nevan was giddy with the thought of receiving his promised reward. 

Cleaning was his purpose, his sole job in life, so there was really no need for a reward. Yet, Darius was so kind hearted and generous, that he always promised his thrall a reward for his work. Whether it be presenting him with another place to cleanse or an extra feeding for that week, Nevan was over the moon simply with knowing he had pleased the vampire.

Nevan studied the mess he was presented with. The storage rooms were always a bit arduous to take care of, mainly due to the overwhelming clutter that had formed over centuries. 

He began with a smaller brush, sweeping the tops of boxes and junk. Before he knew it, whatever dirt inhabited the room had unsurprisingly mixed with the air, floating into and itching at his nostrils. 

He leaned his head back, readying himself for a sneeze.

Seering pain sliced through his brain as his body forcibly doubled over, almost as if splitting his head in half. Nevan clutched his head desperately, stumbling and slipping over his feet. He pulled frantically at his hair, the agony spreading to his scalp as well.

The human dropped onto sore knees, expelling a distraught whine. He panted heavily, attempting to settle himself. 

Luckily, after an endless repetition of deep, calming breaths, the pain subsided into a faint throb. Nevan groaned, rubbing at his tear prickled eyes. Out of reach thoughts danced inside his mind, too rapid to be coherent.

Holding his head in one hand, he forced open his soggy eyes. Gazing down at his own lap, confusion began to settle in.

How did-? Why was he…? Cleaning supplies?

Clutching the short broom in his hand, he noticed what was under it. “What?” He groaned, grabbing at the fabric covering his lower body. Whatever it was, it was large, frilly, and itchy, a terrible combination.

Nevan felt around, pressing his palms to the floor and pushing himself onto wobbly legs. He clung to a tall stack of cardboard boxes, his knees buckling. He took in the room, filled to the brim with piled up rubbish. 

Particularly, Nevan’s gaze landed on a long, thin mirror several feet away. He shuddered, digesting the image of the figure reflected. 

It was him. The reflection held Nevan’s eyes, Nevan’s moles, Nevan’s nose, yet they looked so different. Like a failed clone. His hair was lengthy with a healthy shine, his face and body meticulously clean shaven, and he wore a grand, luxurious dress. 

Worrying of all, were the achining wounds in his neck. Red, oozing and sore, Nevan gaped at the sight.

It couldn’t be him. Nevan didn’t do those things. He kept his hair short and easily manageable, he never gave a second thought to body and facial hair, and he sure as hell had never been very comfortable in a dress. He began grabbing at the excessive tool covering his thighs, trying to ease the irritation on his skin.

Once again, the burning sensation returned full force, tearing apart his brain in a wave of remembrance. 

Fear settled over him, a whimper catching in his throat. He was in a vampire’s home. Caught in a web of mind-bending magic, and by some miracle had broken through. His breathing quickened, short and frantic. 

What would he do? What could he do? If he got caught, there wasn’t a chance he’d ever get the opportunity to escape again. Maybe the monster would be so angry, they’d kill him.

“Nevan? Are you almost finished with your chores?” His heart stopped. Nevan lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, pushing his back against the objects behind him. “Where are you?” They called. 

Nevan slid down the boxed, landing on his bottom. Darius was close. Too close. If he tried to leave now, he would surely be caught, but the same was ensured if he didn’t.

Footsteps picked up, the clicking sound of Darius’ heels growing closer. “There you are.” Carefully, Nevan turned his head to face the beast, meeting a wicked grin. “Are you ready for your reward? I’m especially hungry today.” They said, adjusting the collar of their jacket.

Nevan let out a whimper and a snivel, alarms blaring inside his head. The vampire paused, studying him, his smile contorting into a confused frown. “What’s wrong? What did you do? You shouldn’t look like that.” 

Darius reached their hand out, taking several steps toward the human. Instinctively, Nevan hysterically crawled in the opposite direction, knocking over a pile of random contents. 

Darius met the other man’s stare, his eyes just as wide-eyed as Nevan. Slowly, as if faced with a wild animal, he descended to the floor, resting one knee to the ground. As the human continued to make a mess, Darius reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a glistening little item between two fingers.

Nevan recognized it instantly, squealing with terror as he violently shook his head. “Please! Don’t, please, I can’t-!” Ignoring the human’s pleads, Darius lightly began ringing the tiny bell in his hand. 

The ringing, no matter how light, how delicate, held a commanding, unexplainable presence. Betrayed by his own body, Nevan was unable to cover his ears as means of blocking the noise. The sound was soft, almost musical, causing Nevan’s terrified heart to flutter against his will.

“Come here, little servant.” The vampire sang. He began to lean into the constant ringing, as well as the glossy voice of his owner. “That’s right, return back to master.” Darius beckoned him over, settling onto both knees comfortably. 

The matter of his mind was melting, replaced with the weight of the bell’s authority. Lazily, the terrified shake if his body liquefying, Nevan shifted onto his hands and knees. Mesmerized by the sound licking his ears, he clumsily crawled closer, to Darius’ satisfaction.

“Good boy, almost there. Nothing is more important than the bell, isn’t that right?” The movement of the object never ceased. 

He smiled. That was right. It was Nevan’s bell, captivating and alluring. The only thing possibly more significant was Darius.

He soon reached the vampire, resting onto his knees with glazed over eyes. Darius gently placed the bell to the floor, ending the loop of hypnotic noise. He tenderly cupped Nevan’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

The vampire took a moment to adjust Nevan’s body, picking up limbs and turning his face as if he was searching for something. After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. “I would’ve been very upset if you managed to lose some of your delectable blood in all that panic. Fortunate for you, it seems you didn’t.”

Nevan would’ve been utterly distraught had he made such a mistake. What a terrible thrall he was even risking it. “Now, are you ready for your reward?” He nuzzled into his master’s comforting touch.

In no other universe could he have been more ready.