#whump cyoa

[oliversrarebooks]

Brainwashing Chair CYOA - Arrival

tw: kidnapping, restraints, conditioning

Previously and previously

Masterlist Next

You chose: defiant, fighting tooth and nail and cheerful pet training facility

You can see the pet training facility from the window of the van. It's a deceptively cheerful looking place, a modern building with big, sunlit windows and flowering bushes. You see an ordinary looking couple heading in the front door, excited and happy.

You're not going to be brought in the front door, of course. They're not going to drag you past the showroom or the play area or the accessory shop or the pet grooming stations. That might disturb the customers looking to adopt a new pet, remind them where their pets are coming from. That won't be tolerated.

So you're not surprised when the van turns from the entrance to drive around the back, into a dingier area where trucks are making deliveries. You're a delivery yourself, you suppose. The zip ties around your wrists and ankles chafe, and the gag in your mouth is coated with your saliva. The man in a smart looking uniform next to you is scrolling on his phone, not paying you any mind. It's just another workday for him. Just another workday taking a new pet to their fate.

But his ordinary workday might just be the end of your life as you knew it. 

Masterlist Next

[rabbit-flaying]

I'm going to write a simple whump choose your own adventure story on Twine, and post it for you guys to play.

Knowing me, there will be options to do out of pocket, deranged, and terrible things. But I will make all of the content beyond general violence opt-in. You'll be able to go from whumpee to whumper, or other combinations you like. Fun for all kinds of readers.

Here are the options for the story I'm considering:

Whumpee point of view. You wake up in an isolated house full of corpses and gore. You have to find your way out, but something is watching.

Whumper point of view. You're a vampire hunter in charge of a guild. You have a new prisoner. Whatever will you do with them?

Caretaker point of view. Your sibling just showed up on your doorstep. They're badly hurt and collapse in your arms.

If you want to be tagged when I get this done, tell me.

[inkwell-and-dagger]

HTKAI CYOA

Part One.

|| next ||

—> —> —> —> —> —>

Immortals.

Those with the unnatural ability to surpass the regular limits of the human body, able to endure even the most lethal of wounds, able to heal from injuries with an uncanny speed, fall under this title.

But it wasn't as if they were particularly sought after. Unlike other, more mythical beings that plagued the world, they were treated normally.

Hell, if you were to pass one in the street, they'd look like any normal passerby. Just a regular person, unless one would happen to witness their healing process or uncanny ability to walk off lethal injuries themselves.

One of these Immortals is you.

—> —> —>

The bar bustles with activity; the soft drone of voices, the cheers and commentary of a football game playing on a television, glasses colliding with a gentle clink.

You've only recently moved near Durham, and found this quaint little pub to unwind in the evening, perhaps get acquainted with your surroundings.

But god, it was hard to unwind with all this racket.

You swirl your drink in your glass, watching the ice chink against the side. There was no point getting anything stronger; the only one driving you home tonight was yourself, after all.

The chatter of the pub drones on, and suddenly this place wasn't as relaxing as you'd previously made it out to be.

Maybe you just needed a breather. The air was thick and your senses were being all but assaulted by everything going on. A group of men nearby jeer at the television.

There was a woman a few seats to your left, chatting idly with a bartender. Curled, ebony black hair frames a face of rich brown, freckled skin and a scrutinising gaze. As she drums her fingers against the bartop, the other resting below her chin, you notice a faint, thin scar running across her bottom lip, and another splitting her brow. The bartender refills her glass, seeming flustered, before they walk off.

“Hey,” You lean over to her; and she turns to look at you. “Sorry to bother, but can you watch my drink for me?”

The woman smiles, and gives a nod. “Of course. I understand.” Her voice is smooth and accented, faintly Russian. She seems to recognise you, but you don't recognise her. Strange, but maybe you're just not thinking straight.

You smile back and thank her, to which she nods once more and pulls your glass besides her own. With that, you grab your bag and jacket and weave past people to get to the door. The interaction went surprisingly well; at least you don't have to worry about anyone tinkering with your drink.

The woman watches you go.

—> —> —>

As soon as you exit, the wintry air outside hits your face, refreshing albeit frigid. It had just stopped raining; the fine scent of petrichor was a welcome change to the muggy air of the pub. You breathe deeply, either to savour the smell or calm yourself down.

It was much quieter out here; just what you needed.

You move out of the way of the entrance and lean against the brick wall of the pub. Cars pass you by, their headlights gleaming ahead like keen, peering eyes in the night. The quiet chatter from inside momentarily amplifies as someone swings the door open and enters.

Passersby pay you no mind; at least, most of them. One of them who had emerged from a nearby carpark, a shorter lad in a thick black hoodie, gave you a second glance as they passed. That same strange gleam of recognition you saw in the woman's eyes returned; although this time reflected in a steely gaze of dull grey and sky blue.

You meet their eye momentarily, enough for a feeling of unease to settle on your mind and a shiver to snake down your spine. The cars, the street, the pub fades away from your vision, replaced with a fog-like darkness.

Just then, they turn away once more, and the feeling dissipates as if it were never there. They walk onwards, and turn sharply across a nearby corner. The street swims back into view.

Strange. Perhaps you’re overthinking; people stare, you can't change that. You'll never meet these people again — the woman in the bar and the stranger passing by — so what was the point of dwelling on the tiniest interactions you have with them?

Checking the time, you're mildly surprised to see it was already 10pm. It feels like you've only just gotten here. But, a nagging feeling in the back of your mind says to go home, which was, admittedly, a pretty good idea.

So, you re-enter the pub begrudgingly, and immediately the noise assaults your ears. Bloody hell; you bet they're enjoying themselves, but couldn't they at least not give you tinnitus in the process?

You return to the bar, thank the woman once more with a smile before finishing the remains of your drink. She insists that she'll take your glass with her own; how kind.

The cold night air greets you with open arms. Shrugging your jacket on and shoving your hands into its pockets. Your bag over your shoulder, you walk down the wet, puddled street to the car park beside the pub.

You pass the same alleyway the strange young man had gone down prior. It's dark and, before you realise, a hand is looped around your neck and you're dragged into the alley.

A hand clamps over your mouth, muffling a strangled cry. The hand on your neck removes, to instead be replaced with the cold, sharp blade of a knife.

“Shut the fuck up and do as I say if you don't want one of your little Immortal lives to be lost,” A voice sneered into your ear, strained and tense, lilted with a thick British accent.

Crap. You have a knife to the throat and nothing to protect yourself with. Whether this is a simple robbery or something else, you are unsure.

—> —> —> —> —> —> —> —> —>

AAUSJFHJ LETS FUCKING GO YALL. CYOA CHAPT 1. thank you all for being so patient with me these last few months regarding my writing ♥️♥️♥️

I'm not bothered to re-read this so sorry if there's any mistakes

HTKAI Taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @whumpy-wyrms @creppersfunpalooza @toyybox @vidawhump

@whumpinthepot

[thewhumpcaretaker]

♥︎ Whump Dating Sim Masterlist - Longing for Flight ♥︎

Image Source

Summary: This is the story of Allister Price, a sniper serving as a human weapon for a shadowy figure called The Operator. You will increase the reader's heart level with him by completing polls, and eventually get to see heart events (X Reader fics) as your relationship improves. Perhaps you can even help him escape a dire situation...

Planning Polls

New OC or Existing Character | Gender | Creature | Profession

Character Profiles

Allister Price (Whumpee)

Story Polls & Heart Events

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Please comment, ask, etc. to be added to a tag list for updates!

[whumpinthepot]

Hamster Interactive Story

Chapter 8. Threat

Prev - Masterlist

Content: CYOA format, poll options, Being watched, physical restraint, verbal threats, cages, pet trope, Giant/Tiny, Selective Mutism, poor vision, drug mention (in poll), no medication for pain, fear for ones life, dehumanization, female cast, ableism,

Pov: Hamster, then switches to Ashley for the poll.

Poll winner: Rub your eyes and crawl closer to see if they’re real

—-

You rub your eyes and clumsily crawl closer to the blurry image that stands across the bars. You fall into your shoulder a couple of times but lucky enough the padding in the cage cushions any pain it might have caused. The figure does look like one of Ashley’s prop dolls, and you start to relax. 

Until it talks- “You really are blind, aren’t you, Pet?” 

You scream immediately, kicking backwards from reflex, and the voice becomes shrill, “Hey! Shut up- Stop screaming!” The figure is opening the cage now to get to you. They force the door to stay ajar by shoving a pencil into it. 

They storm towards you, and you don’t stop screaming. In fact you scream more from terror. Until he’s shoving a hand against your mouth and you’re face to face with someone who is the same size as you, “Stop screaming before something bad happens to both of us!” His hand shoves against your lips, and grinds flesh into your teeth. It hurts, and you want it to stop. 

You stop screaming in hopes he’ll let go of you. It doesn’t stop the tears though, and when he takes his hand away you continue to back up to distance yourself from him. 

The man closes the distance and towers over you, “Does the human know about me?” He asks. You stare at him in disbelief, and he says it again, “Does. The. Human. Know. About. Me?” This time you shake your head quickly. 

“You don’t talk do you?” He tilts his face sideways.

Once again you shake your head. You’re not going to say a word to him. 

“Then you won’t tell the human you saw me, right?” 

You keep shaking your head, though you’re not sure if you’re supposed to nod at that last question. It doesn’t matter, because he understands it anyway, “Good.” He seems satisfied enough. 

You both stare at each other for a second, then he takes off. The cage door slams shut, and he’s gone. 

You’re left shaking like a leaf, and you need Ashley to come home NOW so that she can protect you. The medicine in your system dies down mid day, and your arm starts to throb against the inside of the cast. You feel miserable. 

Once Ashley finally comes through the front door, it's late, and you’ve already cried your heart out from fear and pain. 

When she puts her hand in your cage to check on you, you cling to her fingers immediately for safety. Ashley startles, but she scoops you up with no problem, “Oh Honey, does your arm hurt? It's okay, Mummy’s home. Here-“ She puts you to her chest where her heart thumps against you as she chucks her purse onto the counter. She then takes you to the bathroom to get more medicine syringed into your mouth. It’s bittersweet but you swallow it. 

When Ashley tries to put you back down you latch to her thumb, and refuse to let go. You’re still terrified of the tiny man killing you in your sleep. You’ve never done this before, and Ashley seems rightfully worried. She brings you back up to her chest and looks around as if lost. 

—

(Top two or three poll winners may be used) 

Taglist under the cut:

Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @dramat1ques @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @whither-wander-whump @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @copperyote @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @sunshiline-writes @whump-in-the-closet

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Rat CYOA 9

Surprise I’m back. Short one this time though, sorry.

Masterlist

———

You slowly reach a hand out to pet down his chest and stomach, not knowing what else to do. You regret every decision that has lead you here.

But you can’t stop now, and as you continue to pet him, his whimpering and squirming gets worse, and you notice fat tears rolling down his cheeks. You try to dodge every injury on his front (and they were numerous), but petting this area suddenly feels like a bad move.

Resisting the urge to shush and comfort him, you desperately look for an area that maybe won’t hurt as much. The top of his head maybe? Does it have less nerve endings? Also the hair should shield him from feeling it a bit, hopefully.

You reach for his head, hoping this’ll somehow help, and start patting. He whimpers a bit, but doesn’t seem to be in as much pain.

You glance at Virginia. She is watching you intently, but doesn’t seemed very moved one way or another.

Tag list: @whumpsday @kim-poce @scp-1296 @boonasaurusrex just ask to be added or removed! I know it’s been awhile, absolutely understand if this is no longer your thing

[whump-in-the-closet]

14. Collars in the Shape of Hands

previous.

cw: burning, failed escape, inhuman whumpers

Your vision blurs, choked with the sight of Valian’s blood and flashing steel. You can’t watch this. You– 

You panic. And the world panics with you, slipping away and blurring into vague, indistinct shapes. You run, heart ripping apart your throat– you don’t think an internal organ is supposed to be there, but you brush it aside– you have to run. 

You have to get out of here. 

The ring of trees that’s a fuzzy line of green means freedom. Safety. You draw close, panic turning to exhilaration. You’re going to make it. You’re going to be safe. The thought settles comfortably inside you, all dull edges and warm fall colours. 

You never make it. 

You never had a chance. 

Keres materialises directly in front of you, coming up from the grass with the finality of a mountain. 

Fall colours fade to winter and despair. 

Grinding to a stop, you try to backpedal– you still have a chance to reach the woods. To escape this nightmare of a clearing– 

Keres tilts her head and gives you a paper-thin smile. A smile that says, “Hey, congratulations, you messed this up splendidly. Good for you for being so bold and so utterly stupid.” Really, who needs words when they can smile like that? 

Someone grabs your shoulders from behind, grip tightening with an impossible strength. No human should be able to make your bones feel like they’re about to turn into powder. 

Solis drags you back to the middle of the clearing. In a final fit of resistance, you dig your heels into the ground, leaving scratch marks in the grass. 

Solis drops you. Pieces of green grass twist between your fingers and wrap around your wrist. 

Voices echo like they're coming from the end of a very long tunnel. “You shall regret that.” 

“Helect, you should not have tried to run.” Mocking. “But, alas, that is your loss.” 

It’s Solis who hauls you back to your feet. There are flecks of Valian's blood on her face. She doesn’t let go of your collar, but twists it to the point of choking. 

Leaning in close, she whispers, “Have you ever been in so much pain, death seems like a mercy?” 

The lightning in her eyes seems like an entire flashing storm. The air contracts with suppressed energy. 

She slips into an old way of speaking. A hymn. A threat. “Prepare thyself.”

“For– for what?” 

Solis raises two of her four hands and the light catches on the dead skin. Then you realise it's not sunlight on her skin, but white flames. Her hands are on fire. 

And she smiles. “For this.” 

Terror spikes through you, filling every nerve in your body with a silent scream. You try to wrench away, fighting with the strength of a trapped animal. 

Keres grabs your wrists in a vice-like grip. With another hand, she grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. 

You stare at the sky through the tree branches and wonder if it's the last time you’ll see the sun. 

Flashing red wings. 

Cicadas buzzing.

The green of the forest. 

Don’t think about the burning--

The sound of sizzling hits you first, then the pain. 

Solis’s hands are around your throat, forming a collar of fire. 

The sunlight beats down on you as you scream. Back arched, clawing for even the slightest relief. 

The first scream is choked, strangled and half-swallowed. It rips at your throat, crawling out of your mouth and falling dead beside you. 

Just like your dignity. 

You never had a high pain tolerance. 

“Oh, be quiet,” snaps Solis, withdrawing her hands. But the burns remain. A mark that won’t heal and is unable to be hidden. 

Burns in the shape of a collar. 

Keres lets go of your wrists and you sink to the ground. Your vision blurs– worse than before. 

Unconsciousness is a mercy you would beg for. 

You slip further into the grass. 

Bare feet appear in the corner of your vision and Valian crouches next to you. Their bottom lip is shredded, blood dried to their face. They're really not much better off than you are.

There’s concern in your eyes, but it’s darkened by fear. “You should stand up for this next part,” they whisper. “Do you need help standing?” 

Nausea rises up with an unbidden horror. The agents aren’t finished?

taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast, @d-cs, @annablogsposts, @sorrowful-hyacinth, @whumpsday, @whumpinthepot, @whumpycries (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

[moons-cozy-corner]

Bodyswap Whump CYOA Part 2

This one is a bit dry, I just finished moving into college but I wanted to get this out. :3

Part 1

Check the phone.

The phone. Yes, that is your best bet. You can find out where you are, who you are. Maybe you can even call yourself, you’re sure this person is just as lost as you are. You sit on the bed, it’s stiff. You can’t imagine sleeping on this every night, but everyone has their own taste, you guess. You pick up the phone, it's a new model, sleek. As soon as it wakes from sleep it beeps, opening to the home screen. Oh, right. You have his face, of course it would simply open for you. For some reason it feels strange that it was so simple, you feel like you’re invading this guy's privacy. But that doesn’t really matter right now, does it? He’s probably doing the same thing. 

The home screen is rather bland; default blue background and the basic collection of apps. Messages, phone, wallet, email, the default weather app… and not much else. You raise an eyebrow, but don’t bother much judging the oddness of it. Some people just like to keep things simple, who are you to judge? You open the settings and find the location, and your heart sinks at the sight. You are hours away from home, you realize. A full day's travel away at least, probably two. There’s no way you’re traveling all the way back down during all this confusion, not until you get your bearings. Which probably won’t happen for a while.

Your second thought is to call yourself. You open the contacts, there aren’t many. This guy must not have any friends, and very few family. The house sure sounds empty, and there wasn’t anyone on the other side of the bed, luckily for you. 

Unluckily for you, though, nobody answers the phone when you dial your number. You call three more times, but still, no answer. You slam the phone on the bed in frustration and stand, rubbing your face to wash this strange illusion from your eyes. 

You still have no idea who you are or what has happened, and it looks like you’ll have to deal with all of this entirely alone. What does one even do in this situation? It’s giving you a headache. Before you can even hope to get your bearings you hear a knocking coming from downstairs. Someone calls out a meek sir? up the stairs, and you immediately tense up. It sounds like a girl.

Did you body swap into somebody important? You put the phone back down, it's not much use to you right now. Right now you need to deal with whoever is trying to talk to you.

taglist: @whomeidontknowthem

@bleeding_letters @nicopascaline @whumped_inc @subval01 @whumpkinz @littlespacecastle @hollowgast1 @aswallowimprisoned @edkore @vermillion-emerald

[inkwell-and-dagger]

if the cyoa option were to win, would y'all like becoming rayan or just sort of being regarded as a nameless character (aka yourselves??)

[whumperofworlds]

TAGLIST: @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated

[thewhumpcaretaker]

♥︎ Whump Dating Sim: Allister Price ♥︎

Image Sources: One | Two | Three Author’s notes: More information will be added to this post over time. I have a longer document about Allister, but I don’t want to reveal spoilers too quickly. You’ll discover some of it during the story. Hearts will also be updated here.

Also, “male” won the gender pole, but nonbinary and bigender both got a lot of votes and would have won if combined. So, I made Allister's pronouns he/they.

Please comment, ask, etc. to be added to a tag list for updates!

He/they | 25 | Assassin

Current Heart Level: ♥︎♡♡♡♡ (1/5)

Residence: Chicago

Sexuality: Pansexual (the reader’s gender will never be stated)

Face Claim: Curt Cobain

Backstory: When Allister was 15, he won a illegal shooting competition designed to find talented snipers. He was then kidnapped and forced to work for The Operator, a crime boss. Because they have seen The Operator's face, they can never be allowed to walk free. If he fails in a mission or does not show up to receive the next assignement, he is tracked down by "The Handler." That's all we know for now.

Skills: Allister is an incredible marksman and sniper. They’re also good fixing things. He knows a lot about electrical components, as well as how to assemble guns and explosives. 

Interests: ???

Personality: Allister seems jumpy and paranoid. He gets through his ordeal by focusing on revenge fantasies. We don’t know anything else yet.

Desires: ???

Hates: ???

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Rat CYOA 11

Masterlist

———

 Well. Maybe Rat doesn’t deserve this, necessarily. But, now that you think of it, there isn’t any harm in taking a bit of pleasure from this. It’s fun! You have some power, who wouldn’t enjoy that?

Besides, you aren’t causing any actually damage. You were forced into this situation. You didn’t have a choice.

It’s totally fine to loosen up and enjoy this. It’s not like you’d ever be okay with actually hurting anyone. It’s not like you’d ever even do this, despite it being harmless, unless forced and threatened.

You’re still a good person.

If you just keep telling yourself that, maybe the annoying Jiminy Cricket part of you will believe it.

- - -

After alternating between petting his head and tummy a few times and smiling for most of it, Virginia gave you permission to stop.

As you turned away from watching the crying man for the first time in awhile, you saw that the crime boss was smiling at you.

“I saw your expression there, my friend. Have you finally found your sadistic calling?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I would call it that,” You say, slightly uncomfortable. You were a good person, after all. Good people aren’t sadistic, at least not without the consent of all parties. “But uh, yeah. I suppose I was enjoying it a bit.”

Virginia laughed briefly and then studied you, her eyes filled with an unknown expression. It made you feel like a bug crawling near someone’s shoe, being carefully watched so the person can choose the perfect time to squish you.

“Well, if you’ve found something you like, why stop now? The other guests want their turns with Rat, but I see no reason you shouldn’t get to try out our newest one.”

“What’s their name?”

“Doesn’t have one. I rarely name ‘em, only if they really catch my eye. And I can tell you, there’s nothing special about this one. But you can still play with it, if you want.”

———

Tag list: @whumpsday @kim-poce @scp-1296 @boonasaurusrex @whumpinthepot @whumplr-reader just ask to be added or removed! :D

[whump-in-the-closet]

Helect CYOA Masterlist.

(inspired by whump cyoa stories by @whumpsday and @painsandconfusion)

You have been exiled for murder and have lost all claims to civilization and the life of a noble. When you stumble across the very person who was responsible for the charge brought against you, what do you do? Revenge could be yours, but they've already been gravely wounded...

cws in the individual post

Not Alone

Help

Fire

Nowhere to Go

The Tables Have Turned

Bandages

What's Wrong?

Deserve It

Vanish

Council's Agents

Negotiation is Not Your Strong Suit

Burning and Suffering, etc.

How it’s Done

Collars in the Shape of Hands

Fear Tastes like Pine

taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast, @d-cs, @annablogsposts, @sorrowful-hyacinth, @whumpsday, @whumpinthepot, @whatwhumpcomments, @whumpycries (lmk if you want to be added or removed!)

art!!! (by kira-the-whump-enthusiast)

[inkwell-and-dagger]

AUGJ

[whumperofworlds]

Part 1

TAGS: @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @cyeayt @pigeonwhumps (let me know if you want to be tagged or not!)

[thewhumpcaretaker]

❤️ Building a Whumpee: Profession ❤️

Background Info: This whumpee will be the star of a choose-your-own-adventure set of polls that allow the reader (playing as Caretaker) to build up hearts and unlock cutscenes. Since people showed interest in mafia related characters, there will be a mafia setting for the story.