Redid Oliver, Noah, And Aaron On Picrew

Redid Oliver, Noah, and Aaron on picrew

i am back and will be working on whump again! :)

had some writer's block but im over it <3

Red

~a short drabble for @the-whumpers-soiree~

Whumpee sat in the corner of the penthouse party, knees up to their chin, hands over their ears, tears in their eyes.

It was stupid really. They shouldn’t have come to this party. Shouldn’t have donned their stupid glowing blue wrist band.

No matter where they went, no matter what they did, they always ended up like this. Alone and overwhelmed. It was crushing. The rush of colors, the beat of music, the echo of voices.

They felt like they were slowly dying as the world spun out of control around them.

“Breathe.”

It was a voice. Whumpee was sure they’d imagined it, and yet as they sat their and shuddered, they felt the unmistakable prescense of someone kneeling beside them.

“Breathe.”

Whumpee took a deep shuddering breath.

Breathe.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

“You’re doing good.”

The person touched Whumpee’s arm gently. Whumpee looked down at their wristband. It was red.

Red. Red was a good color, they told themselves. It was the color of raspberries and roses and rhubarb. It was the color that leaves turned in the autumn, and it was the color the sun burned as it set. It was a warm color. A familiar color. Perhaps this person was just as the sun in the sky, warm, nurturing, and safe. They were someone nice. Someone safe. Someone to take them in and make them feel like they belonged in this strange and blueish place.

The person squeezed Whumpee’s wrist gently.

“I’ll take care of you, okay?” The stranger breathed.

“Okay.” The word tumbled out of Whumpee’s mouth without much thought. They just wanted a friend. Someone to be here with them. Even if they were a bit too close, and they were holding their hand just a bit too tight.

Wait a minute…

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Wh-where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” The stranger twisted their hand in their hair. “Now come with me, my new pet. We don’t want you causing a scene now, so we?”

Whumpee shook their head, as Whumper slowly guided them across the dance floor, their red wristband burning a path through the sea of blue.

Red. It was the color of radishes, poppies, jam. But as the stranger squeezed them harder, digging their nails into Whumpee’s flesh, Whumpee felt their stomach twist. They couldn’t help but remember that red was also the color of freshly fallen blood.

Omfg i <3 masochist whumpees they're so fucking great

Genuinely if you make masochist whumpee content, tag me ill eat that shit uppp

mm masochistic whumpee dialogue bc im in a listy mood. was supposed to be a lil drabble for @whump-queen and honestly that might come later but for now. this

tw masochistic whumpee, degradation, humiliation, dehumanisaton, implied nsfw

"oh. you're enjoying this."

"that's fucking disgusting, i can't believe you just moaned."

"you want me to go harder? yeah. you do."

"stop trying to lie, it's written all over your face. and other parts."

"maybe i'm not even enough for a freak like you. let me call a couple friends."

"i wouldn't have ever thought of touching a captive. but well... when you're looking at me like that..."

"oh, this isn't punishment for you, huh? we'll figure out something else for that, then. or is the humiliation of getting off on this enough?"

"i just slapped you, and you're blushing?"

"i know you love the whip. maybe even more than i do."

"for any normal person, this'd be punishment. but i'm offering it to you as a reward."

"i'll go so far beyond your limits that even you won't enjoy it."

"say it. i want you to admit to just how gross you are."

"won't you beg to be hurt in all the ways you love so much?"

"it's violating, isn't it? to be made to feel good like this."

"i wonder what your friends would think of you."

"such a broken mess of a person. have you never had any dignity, or was it simply lost along the way?"

Cw: whumper/whumpee, kidnap situation, death threat, obsessive whumper

"Im sorry for running, please-" whumpee began, breaking off with a whimper when the cold metal of a knife pushed against his throat.

Whumper's hand shook as he gripped whumpee's jaw. "All i wanted was to keep you. But you just had to make things difficult, and now I have to kill you. I just needed you to be mine-" As they spoke, pressure on the knife broke the skin of whumpee's bruised and scarred throat.

"Then i will!" Whumpee swore, heart racing when whumper's face drained of some of their rage. "Be yours- ill be yours."

"Do- do you mean it?" Whumper whispered, their knife dropping away an inch.

"Yes," Whumpee replied convincingly, willing to promise anything at this point just to live, "Whumper, um,

I love you."

This is awesome, I haven't seen this plot/trope anywhere else, keep up the good work!

NOTES: This is gonna be my first proper piece of whump writing. Pretty much ever, but certainly on Tumblr. So. We'll see how this goes, I guess? If you have any suggestions for names for my whumpee, please suggest them. Because I don't have a clue.

CONTENT: Accidental caretaker? bad caretaker?, pet whump (not bbu), burglar caretaker???, dehumanisation, it/its pronouns (not character's preferred pronouns? unsure), begging, muzzles, shock collars, starvation, caretaker calls whumpee "kid" (whumpee is an adult).

If he was being honest, Ivan had only broken in for the money. After all, Edmund James-Fuller was one of the richest men in the county, and, as much as Ivan would like to say that he was, too, he was not. Therefore, the need to steal arose.

So it was a gloomy Thursday night, and Ivan found himself staring through the window of the Fuller Mansion, his eyes widening at the sight within.

But it wasn't the silk curtains which had caught his eye, nor the oil paintings hanging over the fireplace. No, it was the boy in the centre of the room, whimpering and bleeding onto the faux (he hoped) fur rug.

His hands were held behind his back, a collar buckled around his thin neck, a muzzle tight against his face, and he was staring at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused; but, then again, it was hard to tell from here. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost as if-

A man walked through the open door, one hand resting on a silver cane. His shoulders were draped in a black robe, and his dark eyes gleamed with malice. "Hello, Pet," he murmured. His voice was smooth, polished. "I see you've behaved, hm? Good boy."

The boy whimpered, faintly. The man - Edmund, he must be Edmund - smiled, carding his hand through the boy's hair. He must have been used to it, as he didn't flinch away, instead sitting very still until Edmund finished. "There we go."

Ivan was still watching silently through the window. Invisible unless you tilted your head at just the right angle. He just couldn't believe... No. No, he could. Of course he could.

As he watched, Edmund drew back, tutting. "All this blood on my floor... and on my lovely new rug, too... hm. We shall have to do something about that, shan't we?"

"Pl- please, Master, I... I didn't mean... to..." the boy protested.

"That is of no importance. What is done is done. And whoever, or whatever did it... must face the consequences. Understood?"

"Y- yes, Master."

"Very good. That shall make what is to come... a little easier." He pressed his hand harder on his cane, as though for more support, and something clicked. Then came the screaming.

Ivan didn't remember much of what happened next. One minute, he was perched precariously outside the window, the next, he was standing over Edmund's unconscious body, the cane in his right hand, a poker from the fireplace in his left.

The boy was left, shaking and whimpering, at his feet. Ivan knelt to remove his muzzle, lowering the cane to the ground as he did so.

"Sir... please, it... it was being... trying to be... be good..."

He dropped the poker. It clanged loudly against the wooden floorboards, and the boy let out a little yelp. "P- please, sir, please... it isn't... it didn't..."

"You're not staying here," Ivan said shortly. "You're coming home with me."

The boy looked up. "Sir, it can't... chains..."

Ivan crouched beside the boy and unclipped the chains from his wrists - a little rougher than intended, but it didn't matter. He picked up the chains to examine them.

"Could get a lot of money for that..." he muttered. "...silver..."

"Please, sir, don't... don't send it away, don't... don't sell it, please..."

"Not gonna sell you, kid."

"Th- thank you, sir, it doesn't.. doesn't deserve it... and Master would be angry..." The boy shuddered, tucking his arms around his legs in what looked like an attempt to feel safer.

"Right. We're leaving, then," Ivan said firmly. "Come on, get up."

"But... Master...?"

"No. He doesn't matter anymore."

The boy nodded obediently, moving onto his hands and knees, before crawling after Ivan, only a few steps behind.

"Can you... walk?" Ivan asked, eyeing the boy uncomfortably.

Immediately, he scrambled to his feet, tripping over several times in his haste to follow orders.

"Good."

The boy followed Ivan down the stairs and out of the double doors, through the gardens and out onto the road. Parked to one side, a mere shadow against the trees, was his car.

"Get in the back." Ivan opened the door and slid into his seat, then pulled it closed again. He heard the boy's whimper as it slammed, but forced himself to ignore it. He could deal with it when they got home. He could deal with it all when they got home.

SO. That was my first proper piece of whump writing??? I hope it wasn't too shitty. Still need a name for our lovely whumpee. More of this will probably come soon.