An already weakened whumpee thrown into an even whumpier situation 

-Whumpee’s had more than a few too many drinks. The lights in the club feel so bright they’re giving whumpee a migraine and the music is distorting and thumping at the base of their skull. Whumpee is barely able to walk straight as it is. What happens when whumper slips something into their drink?

-Whumpee is exhausted, it’s been a long day at work and they haven’t been sleeping well. They drop their keys twice trying to unlock their door before they finally get in and see Whumper in the living room quietly. They figure they must be seeing things and head on to bed. 

-Whumpee is sick with a cold/fever. They feel weak, can’t stop shivering and they feel like passing out every time they sit down. They’re driving home from the grocery store when a car t-bones them. The crash didn’t knock them out, but they don’t have the strength to even try to run away when they see Whumper get out of the truck and walk towards them. 

-Whumpee was stabbed/shot and is now on the mend. They aren’t in any immediate danger and they’re an adult so they sign themselves out of the hospital and start to walk the few blocks back across the city to their apartment. It would sure be inconvenient for them to get jumped and mugged, wouldn’t it? Might even tear a few stitches. 

-A bounty has been placed over Whumpee’s head. They’ve just narrowly escaped death for the first time that day and are limping back through the countryside, trying to find where they are. They’re walking across a bridge over a fast, deep river when they see a group of unfriendly looking people. They try to run the other way, but to no avail. They throw Whumpee in a burlap sack and tie it shut before they push Whumpee off the bridge.

-stumbling back and pressing the hand to their side. they look down and see blood. too much blood.

-sinking down to wall to the floor, leaving a smeared trail

-lying in a pool of it, watching as people pass oblivious, unable to call for help

-slipping on floors slick with blood

-Person A finding Person B bleeding out in their home, kneeling beside them and distantly realize that they’re kneeling in something hot and wet. 

-“you’re bleeding.”

whump-n-comfort:

hyperspecific trope, i know, but when a character is only used to touch hurting them to the point that they don’t know how to get comfort any way else, followed by them riling up someone for the sole purpose of Receiving That Touch is❤️✨ 

bonus if that someone Realizes What’s Up and wraps the first character in a big ol’ hug

whumpedroses:

“Lay With Me”  

Tw: Forced Cuddling (Non-Sexual), Alcohol Mention, Forced Gaze, Minor Threats, Height Difference (Whumper 5'9/Whumpee 5'2), Anxiety.

A/n: Despite the petite size, Whumpee is an adult. I just very much enjoy a decent gap – I don’t write whump, including children, unless the child is a background character and is not involved in any Whump activities.

× × ×  

Keep reading

Hidden Injury dialogue that makes my heart just stop beating

• ‘Whose blood is that?’
• 'Do you know how pale you look right now?’
• 'You’re burning up’
• 'You’re sick’
• 'You can barely keep your eyes open.. When was the last time you slept?’
• 'Take off your shirt. Don’t give me that look’
• 'What was that? You winced.’
• 'You’ve got to do better than that if you want to fool me’
• 'Walk then. Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can’t even take a step’
• 'You’re hurt’
• 'I know you’re hurt. And I’m tired of waiting for you to bring it up’
• 'You can trust me’ (Whumpee denies it) *Caretaker gives them a pat and leaves. The first aid kit sits in their place
• 'I knew it, you’re sick.’ 'Go away’
• 'I’m fine’
• 'Don’t give me that bullshit’
• 'We need to get you to a medic NOW’
• 'I just need to rest’
• Caretaker desperately shaking whumpee awake, calling their name over and over
• 'How could you let it get this bad?’
• 'I’m no use to you, injured’ 'You’re even less use if you’re dead’

EDIT: PLEASE TAG @whumpyourenemy IN YOUR WRITINGS IF YOU USE ANY OF THESE! I’D LOVE TO READ YOUR WORK

Call me a slut but the aesthetic of a hand gripping two wrists against a wall is something so personal

‘Help me’ - the moment of vulnerability trope

'Help me’

A normally stoic and stubborn character (A) painfully pushes the words out past their dry lips. The words themselves are wounded, barely unable to reach the other’s (B’s) ear. But they’re heard and the admission of weakness tightens B’s chest more than the sight of A writhing in a pool of their own blood. Their history doesn’t matter, really, when one is the picture of health and the other is closer to hell.

Help me - the phrase is so simple but it carries so much weight. Help you? For what in return? At what cost of my own? What if I can’t.. B’s eyes are widened as thoughts fill their mind. Yet they cannot waste time.

'Fuck it’

It’s a decisive thought, one to end all thoughts.

B bends down to staunch the wound and ties it up haphazardly. And when A starts to fade, they call their name. It’s almost casual at first but it grows in panic. And while they carry A to safety, they’re exhausted and panting but still, they call their name.

Why? Because they care. And seeing A hurt to the point they asked for help, wrenches them.

[The vulnerability trope is not just about a strong character succumbing to injury but also about the character who puts aside their coldness and finally admits that they’d seriously grieve if they lost the other]

Hoist the sails! It’s the Seasickness Trope, me hearties

• The walkway on the water giving way as whumpee steps off of land, causing their knees to buckle slightly before they quickly correct themselves
• Always being near the edge of the ship and keeping a firm grip on the railing
• When whumpee has never been on water before but they lie when asked
• Their pale face speckled with cold sweat
• Dry, cracked lips
• Gulping constantly, even hiccupping a bit when they speak to another character and pounding on their chest to try to get rid of that sickfeeling
• The constant sway and creak of the boards beneath them, they cannot stand still without feeling lightheaded and dizzy
• Walking or stumbling at a diagonal while the world spins around them
• A headache forming, a bad one, with high pitched ringing
• The contents of their stomach rising with a sudden heave
• Sneaking away from the rest of the crew to rush to the toilet
• Reaching for the edge of the seat and vomiting into it
• It’s a lot and they cough miserably at the end before they let themselves fall back and lean against the wall gasping
• But the ground beneath them won’t stop moving, their head is pounding heavier with every throb
• Yet they drag themselves up, afraid of what the captain will say if they are missing from their post but when they stand, the vomit rises again and they collapse back down to throw up
• ^THIS CYCLE OF COLLAPSING AND TRYING TO GET BACK UP
• The captain finding whumpee as a pale, sweaty mess on the floor and instead of being unkind they place whumpee’s arm around their shoulders and help them up
• [Pirate ship with a found family vibe] The rest of the crew helping to make a brew that will cure whumpee’s seasickness and being so relieved to watch the colour return to their previously pale, sickly face

“You’re safe here.”

The words were soft, whispered into the ear of a Whumpee who could hardly believe them. They were out, they were free. And they would never have to be scared again.

Bad Caretaker

Bad Caretaker Pt.2

I’ve received a lot of requests for more Signal, and though I’m fresh out of ideas for the main canon, I thought I could do a bit of a prologue, from before they were with Doctors Crane and Sampson. An anon had the great idea of elaborating upon the mentioned wind tunnel from the ask game, so I went with that! I hope you enjoy!

(Putting all anon requests at the bottom of the post, as there’s a lot!)

CW//Lab whump, dehumanization, restraints, exhaustion, forced exercise

There was a stark contrast between Signal’s kennel and the rest of the facility.

The facility itself was boundless– No matter how long they spend inside, how many treks through the blank halls they made, Signal had never seen the end of it. The hallways themselves were indistinguishable from one another, all blending together– Signal was never sure if they had been in the same hallway before, or if they were being led somewhere entirely new.

Knowing was impossible. The facility was impossible. Impossible to understand, and more than that, impossible to escape from.

Their kennel, on the other hand? Signal’s kennel was small, simple, comprehensible. Seven feet in one way, four in the other– They’d counted, making use of their curled fingers to measure inches, bit by tiny bit. They knew every last square inch of it. The inches where they curled up to sleep, where they backed away when the scientists came.

That was where they were, now– The very back of their kennel, spine pressed against the tile wall. The chain link structure provided minimal protection from outside prying eyes, providing a pixelated view of the scientist in a lab coat outside.

Which scientist? Signal hardly knew, and more than that, they hardly cared. Just like the hallways, there seemed to be infinite numbers of them. They were all the same, all threats in the same way.

Hell, they even spoke the same.

“Good morning, dear, time to come out, now.”

Dear. The word made Signal feel sick. They bristled as they pressed against the back of their kennel, ankles straining again the short length of chain that connected them and wings doing the same, struggling to break free from the straps keeping them folded.

Every day, they tried the same tactic to keep themself safe: A mixture of growling and swiping feebly at the air in front of them, trying in vain to scare away whoever had decided to target them. Never once did it work, but it felt far better than allowing themself to be taken with no fight at all.

With the clinking of a key in a lock, the chain link door of the kennel clattered open. The moment Signal felt blue-gloved hands upon their skin, heart-pounding panic set in, sending their limbs flailing and their jaws striking out at anything that they might’ve been able to find purchase on.

No purchase was found, and nothing was struck. Before they knew it, Signal’s wrists had been cinched behind their back, shoulders held in place by guiding hands, not allowing them to twist or spin.

Led down the hallway, Signal was not blindfolded, but they may as well have been. The towering ceilings and endless steel doors told them nothing of where they were– They wouldn’t have been able to figure it out, not even with a map. Other white coats shuffled past in either direction. At some point, one joined Signal’s captor, moving at their side with jovial words.

Signal had long since stopped listening to their conversations. They couldn’t care less.

They kept their head bowed, steps forced short by the hobbling strap between their ankles.

What would it be today? They had no way of knowing, they never did. Why would the scientists explain to them anything? After all, they were merely an animal, a lab rat, what would their understanding matter? Perhaps they would be having samples taken, or the opposite, having god-knows-what injected into their veins. A physical examination was always possible, or scans– Of their skin, their muscles, their bones, their organs.

They caught a scrap of conversation between the two scientists escorting them.

“I’m taking this one for some exercise. Its doctor is concerned that its wings are going to atrophy.”

“You’re taking it outside to fly?”

“Outside? No, no, just to the tunnel.”

The tunnel? It wasn’t something Signal had heard referred to before, something that made them balk and attempt to stop their constant march forward. Yet, it was in vain– A good shove and their feeble form was moving again.

Every last door in the endless hallway looked the same, and Signal fully expected to be shoved through any one of them, at any time.

Instead, they did not stop until the very end of the hallway, where an oversized, arc-shaped garage door was settled into the wall. There was no way they were going through there, r-

They were.

With a great rumbling, the door retracted upwards.

Signal understood at once why they called it the tunnel. Taking on the appearance of a giant, sideways half-cylinder, a metal-plated room stepped out in the distance. Immediately, their gaze was flitting about, searching for where exactly the pain would come in, where the torture would begin.

Instead, they were merely led into the massive tunnel, the garage door grinding closed behind them. Without thinking, they felt themself beginning to resist.

The structure of the thing was simple, all illuminated by great, shining bulbs, aligned in a straight row along the top of the tunnel. Inside the giant tunnel, settled in one corner, sat a metal control room, windows across the sides. The rest of the space was open, except for…

At one end of the half-cylinder, an oversized fan had been embedded behind an equally massive grate. Was that going to grind them up? It was the first thought that crossed Signal’s mind, though they quickly realized that it didn’t make much sense.

“Alright, buddy.” The scientist pushing them forward patted Signal on one shoulder. “Let’s stretch those wings a bit, huh?”

Signal did not much like the idea, but that was the case for any idea that the scientists had. Yet, it did have one positive– They nearly let out a sigh of relief as they felt the straps unbuckled from around their wings.

They wasted no time at all in unfurling them, feeling the stagnant air catch through their bent feathers. The two scientists stumbled backwards.

How long had it been, since they’d been able to fly? They didn’t remember, and, yet, the action came as naturally as breathing. A pair of powerful beats later, and they were up, halfway to the top of the cylinder. With a great cheer, they flew into a loop, before realizing how stupid the action was and halting.

The scientists on the ground looked up at them with a laugh, before moving to the control room, locking themselves in.

This was… This was amazing! Sure, it wasn’t as good as outside, as feeling the real wind in their wings, but it didn’t matter! They were flying !

Signal soon let go of their bashfulness, spinning over and over again in great arcs through the air. For the first time in ages, they could feel the blood pumping in their veins, the breath coursing through their lungs.

They did not so much as notice as the scientists below turned dials and pulled levers. Yet, they very much noticed when the massive fan churned to life.

The surprise alone was enough to find them falling out of a spin. Feeling like a deer in the headlights, they hovered, watching as the massive blades groaned and grumbled, beginning to move, then turn, then spin.

Even the first few rotations nearly knocked them back. What in the- What was this?!

Signal realized far too late.

By the time they understood the idea of the tunnel, the idea of exercise, they’d already been slammed back, against the far wall of the tunnel. Their head echoed hollowly with ripples of pain as they began beating their wings, struggling to free themself from the wall like a bug from an interstate windshield.

The fan was getting louder, louder, until they could no longer hear their own pounding, desperate thoughts, slamming against the inside of their skull. When they eventually freed themself from the wall, it was far from without difficulty– their lungs were overtaken by gasping as their wings beat the air in panic.

It felt like being behind a passenger jet.

Faster, faster, they urged their wings as the horrid gusts from in front slammed into their face, nipping their nose, tearing their breath from their lungs and tears from their eyes. They could sense the wall behind them, dreading slamming into it again, but did not dare turn around– a moment of lost concentration and they would fall again.

This was exercise? This was supposed to be good for their health?! Or was it merely another humiliation, another torture, like the thousands of others?

Signal had no spare mind with which to consider the matter. Instead, they could only beat their wings, could only gasp for what air they could get. They had long ago closed their eyes, focusing only on the wind, on fighting it with every movement.

The faster they beat their wings, however, it seemed that the fan matched their increase in speed.

Their lungs burned, the cold wind threatening to rip their feathers from their wings, their skin from their face and arms.

Signal had no way of keeping track of time in that hellish place. Only the scientists below knew that they lasted 5 minutes, 43 seconds before slamming into the back wall of the wind tunnel, and falling to the ground, unconscious.

All things considered, it was a good exercise routine. Efficient, quick, and great for their wings! That was what was recorded on Signal’s file, at least, alongside another line:

Advised: Repeat wind tunnel exercise weekly.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

I apologize that I didn’t continue the main story this time, I promise I’ll do so when I have the muse for it!

Just saw a trope I didn’t know I needed in Ever After of all places when the prince kisses Daniella not knowing she has been whipped and wraps his arms around her to pull her in and she gasps in to the kiss?? Hello I would like to see a cute boy do this IMMEDIATELY. Preferably followed by him collapsing and some, “are you okay?/what’s wrong?” and “who did this to you?!” You know what? Maybe I’ll just write it myself.

get-whumped:

writers need to stop being cowards and just sell the whumpee already!!

like? the “sold” trope gives me life!! and i keep getting teased with it where the main character is valuable in some way (they’re related to someone important, they are someone important, they have a valuable special skill, ability, power, gene, etc, a lot of people want revenge on them and are willing to pay for it, etc etc etc the list goes on) and we get that delicious moment that sends chills in to my soul where the whumpee shouts, “what do you want from me?/why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” and the villain replies, “Oh no, no, no. I don’t want to kill you. What a waste of money that would be. Why would I kill you when there are so many people out there who are just dying to get their hands on you?” I’m not necessarily looking for like anything kinky or like extended captivity or slavery whump but the character always gets rescued before they can even get sold and it breaks my heart. is this so much to ask? 

WHY DO I LOVE GAS LIGHTING SO MUCH!!!

sunburn your whumpee ☀️ and have the caretaker rub aloe vera on their back

thatsadifferentstory:

gen and attolia are enemies to lovers excellence. not rivals, not people who sort of annoy each other; enemies. irene hurts gen more than anyone ever has and spends the rest of the queen of attolia regretting it. it’s a dynamic that’s so hard to pull of, because how do you go from ruining someone’s life to love? but they do, and the ugly parts are not pushed aside, they’re not forgotten. irene keeps struggling with her guilt, gen keeps fighting to reconcile the woman he loves and the monster from his nightmares. “tell me you won’t cut out my lying tongue, tell me you won’t blind me, you won’t drive red-hot wires into my ears.” i love them so much.

some-messed-up-writing-for-you:

Short Prompt #678

CW: character was beaten up & left for dead.

“Well…, what do we have here?” - one of the gang members mumbled, cautiously approaching the silent body resting against the alley wall. Their buddies were right behind them, weapons at the ready. “Hey. You alive?”

A choked groan was their only response. The injured whumpee sucked in a pained breath, managing to open one of their eyes. “…Hrgh…?”

“Oh, good.” - the gang member said, casually crouching down beside them. “Don’t know who you pissed off, but want me to finish the job?”

Whumpee croaked out a sob. “N-No…, plea-se…”

“Hmm… Want some help then?”

The whumpee seemed hesitant but muttered out a quiet, “Y-Yes…”

“Alright then. This is gonna cost you later though just so you know.” - they responded before carefully picking Whumpee up into a bridal carry. “The name’s Caretaker, by the way. Let’s get you cleaned up, eh, pretty?”

“Lay With Me”  

Tw: Forced Cuddling (Non-Sexual), Alcohol Mention, Forced Gaze, Minor Threats, Height Difference (Whumper 5'9/Whumpee 5'2), Anxiety.

A/n: Despite the petite size, Whumpee is an adult. I just very much enjoy a decent gap – I don’t write whump, including children, unless the child is a background character and is not involved in any Whump activities.

× × ×  

Whumper lightly stumbled in through the front door of their home while flicking on the front entrance lights.

They squinted faintly while rubbing their eyes between their fingers, softly letting out a sigh.

‘Jesus, when did these lights get so damn bright?' 

They had been out celebrating a close friend’s party and, once again, may have been coaxed to have a few too many Rum & Cokes throughout the evening.

And perhaps a couple straight shots of some Apple Pie Whiskey.

Whumper slid their shoes off carefully while leaning their shoulder on the wall for better support.

They stayed still for a moment, feeling a wave of dizziness impact their senses, causing them to shift so their back was flat on the more pleasantly cooler wall.  

“M'definitely not in my college years anymore, that’s apparent…”

Scowling slowly to themselves, they waited for several moments before feeling more steady, at least enough to move themselves from the wall towards the hallway.  

While stumbling slightly on the way and having to stop once or twice to regain their balance from being hit by a sudden dizzying state, Whumper reached their room almost immediately, collapsing in their bed, letting out a long drawn out sigh.

'Never again.. I gotta’ stop letting those idiots convince me to stoop to their level whenever I go to one of their parties..’

The room around them spun slowly, as if they were riding on a child’s carousel at the fair.

It wasn’t unbearable, though it was distracting as Whumper tried to relax themselves.

Some hours had passed now, and Whumper had somehow managed to ease themselves enough in their inebriated state to doze off during this period until they abruptly awoke, sitting up a little too fast, causing a sudden lightheaded feeling to overtake them.

Whumper grunted softly while running their hand through their faintly damp hair from the light sweat that coated their brow.

They got up after a couple minutes and the feeling of faint nausea subsided, eventually walking towards their walk-in closet, slowly and carefully stripping out of their lightly damp clothing before changing into a pair of black sweatpants and a black tank top.

A still silence took over the room, as Whumper could still feel the effects of their earlier alcohol consumption.

They couldn’t help but also feel a bit lonely

Whumper sighed softly while shaking their head a bit, trying to ignore the feeling while heading back to bed.  

All they could do was restlessly stare into the dark towards the ceiling, listening to the silence around them.

///

Whumpee was quietly asleep in the next room over, though they hadn’t intentionally meant to fall asleep so carelessly.

After hours of nervously waiting for Whumper to return, the exhaustion had finally overcome Whumpee, causing them to get too comfortable and close their eyes for a little too long, causing them to fall asleep only moments after shutting their heavy eyes.

A sudden, sharp whistle suddenly cut through the silent room, abruptly awakening Whumpee in a panic as their eyes shot open wide and instantly locked on Whumper while they stood up quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you Whumpee? Were you enjoying your little nap, hm?” Whumper asked in a faint dry tone, but their words were softly slurred under their breath.  

“You didn’t, Master; I was just—”

“Shut up. I don’t have the patience to deal with your blabbering. I want you to come with me."  

"I.. I would rather not.” Whumpee cautiously spoke as they looked off to the side in a more annoyed way while crossing their arms tightly in front of their chest.

“I beg your pardon?"  

"I don’t want to go with you.. I didn’t do anything! Why am I being punished?"  

Whumper narrowed their eyes at Whumpee while stepping forward, watching the regret fill Whumpee’s eyes as they uncrossed their arms quickly while stepping back.

"What have I told you about questioning me and my authority?”

Whumper grew closer as they quickly reached out, grabbing Whumpee by their frail neck and pulling them closer towards themselves.

“Well? Speak since you have so much to say."  

Whumpee barely had the time to catch a proper breath before stumbling forward, now more prominently smelling the alcohol on Whumper’s breath.  

"To n-not..” They struggled to speak clearly as Whumper squeezed their hands faintly tighter, causing Whumpee to faintly gasp.

Whumper rolled their eyes before letting go of their neck but quickly catching their jaw in their grip, forcing Whumpee to look up at Whumper.

They stared down at Whumpee before slightly letting their jaw go, only to swiftly slap them across the cheek with the back of their free hand, causing Whumpee to let out a pained yelp.

But Whumper quickly re-caught them while more harshly turning their head as Whumpee whimpered softly in their grip.

“Exactly, to not.” They gazed down mockingly at Whumpee while smirking.

“Now, if you’re done showing off what little attitude you have left.. I highly suggest you come with me without protesting."  

Whumpee stared up at them unwillingly as they stayed quiet for a moment before feeling Whumper’s grip on their jaw suddenly tighten, causing Whumpee to grunt softly before nodding.

"I understand, Master.."  

"Good.” Whumper said, letting go of Whumpee after a moment, moving to the side, lightly nodding towards the open door.  

Whumpee stared into the darkness of the hallway as they slowly stepped forward towards the door, exiting the room with Whumper while hearing the click of the door closing behind Whumper.

“Too my room."  

The words caused Whumpee’s heart and soul to instantly sink as a cold sweat broke out across their brow while stiffly nodding, having to force themselves to continue forward in the direction of Whumpers’ room.

'What do they want.. no.. I-it’s obvious wh-what they want.. oh god.. N-no, not th-this.. n-not again..'  

Whumpee’s thoughts frantically raced as a deeper fear and worry started forming a tight knot deep in their stomach, which only grew the closer they got to Whumper’s room.

There was a tension in the air that followed both Whumper and Whumpee as they entered the room.

It was dimly lit but only due to the slightly open curtain letting the moon’s luminous rays peek through. 

"Get in the bed.” Whumper spoke bluntly as they closed the door while locking it behind them. 

Whumpee froze as their eyes locked on the silhouette of the bed, only a few feet away.

In front of them, their feet were firmly frozen to the floor as their heart started to race in their chest as the thoughts started flooding in.

“Excuse me. I said, get in the bed.”

Whumper’s words were more stern with a lower underlying threatening tone to compliment it.

They glared towards Whumpee’s silhouette while stepping a bit closer behind them.

“Now." 

Whumpee jumped slightly, quickly stepping forward a few feet while feeling the soft comforter hit their legs as they instinctively raised their knee, crawling into the bed, laying on their back stiffly, while a more nauseous feeling took over them.

Whumper too slid into bed after a moment while turning on their side facing Whumpee, putting their arm over Whumpee’s stomach, feeling them tense and hearing them whimper softly. 

"Such an overthinker..” Whumper mocked them quietly. “How adorable.”

They shook their head faintly at Whumpee while shifting a bit.

“Face yourself towards me." 

Whumpee stayed still before slowly turning towards Whumper, feeling their arm slide under their head while their other arm snaked firmly around their waist, pulling them closer while resting their chin on Whumpee’s head, feeling their hand softly caress their back.

It caused a deep chill to run up Whumpee’s spine, feeling so close to Whumper in such a wholesome way, it was unnatural and it made the hair on the back of their neck stand on end. 

Though Whumpee stayed still, keeping their hands firmly against Whumper’s chest, trying to keep some type of barrier between them. 

"If I find you’re missing in the morning, Whumpee.. I promise you that you will regret ever even thinking of leaving me." 

Whumpee froze as Whumper’s words suddenly broke the silence of the room.

Hearing the seriousness in their tone, all Whumpee could do was stiffly nod, wide-eyed in a light fear.

It didn’t take long for Whumper to fall back to sleep peacefully, holding Whumpee close to themselves.

Whumpee, on the other hand, had overcome any tiredness or feelings of exhaustion that had previously plagued them.

'Don’t move.. don’t move.. not worth it.. just.. just stay awake..’

Their eyes stayed wide open and alert, making sure to keep all their senses aware of where Whumper’s hands were and any shift in movement that Whumper made, though they dared not move more than needed through the night.

They feared what the consequences would be if they were to wake Whumper too early or tempt their luck with what fate would fall on them if they tried to leave the room. 

Whumpee’s mind raced all through the night, and they could swear that was the longest night they had ever endured.

{End}

Taglist:@whatgoeswhumpinthenight​​@madrono-but-i-am-not-a-fruit​@cowboy-anon​​@straight-to-the-pain​​ @myst-in-the-mirror​​@whumpers-inc​​​​@thats-my-type-writer​​@whump-cafe@whumpasaurus101​​@jezifster@bandages-andobsessions@voltron-for-ever@astralrunic

“Leave Me Alone”

Tw:Marijuana Mention/Use.

Caretaker x Whumpee

A/n: Sorry for not posting anything I’m 5Ever Motivation and Ideas recently decided to just *Pouf* — But one decided to drop in suddenly and I actually felt a shred of motivation tonight. Not my best but I’m happy with it.

× × ×

A soft musky scent faintly filled the room while Caretaker sat downstairs on their computer, catching up on some light paperwork they had put off until the scent softly hit their senses.

Their brows arched curiously.

A familiar scent, though it wasn’t one they were too fond of, lingered in the air around them, and as they turned, they could see a soft haze of smoke swirling through the rays of light peeking through the curtains.

Caretaker sighed while shaking their head slowly while getting up from their seat, walking towards the stairs while following the aroma to Whumpee’s room, where the smell had become more pronounced.

They reached out to the door, knocking softly while resting their other hand on the knob, “Whumpee.. Can I come in?”

“Yeah… I guess.” They heard Whumpee blandly respond from the other side of the door as Caretaker turned the knob, letting out a soft sigh.

“So this is all you’re going to do with your life now? Smoke weed and isolate yourself from everyone?” They asked carefully, in a more concerned way than questioning.

“Guess so…” Whumpee said while staring up at the ceiling with a deadpan expression as they raised their hand to their lips, softly inhaling off a lit joint, feeling the smoke softly burn their throat and lungs, causing them to cough quietly.

“Whumpee, come on. This isn’t going to help you with anything.” Caretaker frowned softly while leaning against the doorframe, crossing their arms slightly in front of themselves.

“Alright, if you say so, caretaker." 

Whumpee rolled their eyes, faintly feeling a sudden flare of annoyance, while sitting up, reaching their hand over towards an ashtray, putting out the joint while running their free hand through their hair.

"Seriously?” Caretaker clicked their tongue softly while sighing, letting a clear disappointment underline their tone.

“Look, you wouldn’t get it, okay? Just… leave me alone. I’m not hurting anyone or whatever. I just want to be by myself. Why is that so hard for people to understand!”

Whumpee glared towards Caretaker feeling more heated as their voice rosed towards them in an angry, cracked way.

Caretaker gazed at Whumpee with a light shock. They had never genuinely raised their voice in anger at them before like this.

“Yeah, I’ve been smoking a lot more recently, and perhaps it’s because when I do, I feel something other than nothing—or just hating myself—and I just want to be alone.”

Whumpee lowered their tone after a moment while laying back down, turning so their back faced Caretaker.

The air between them grew thicker as a tense silence overcame the room.

Caretaker softened their expression after a few minutes, hearing the subtle soft whimpers of Whumpee from their bed.

“Do you really want to be alone, Whumpee..?” Caretaker asked quietly.

Whumpee stayed quiet while biting the inside of their lip softly, though tightly clutching the blankets around them, shaking their head slowly, letting out a soft, “No…" 

"Do you want me to sit with you for a bit?" 

”…yes please..“

A few cold tears escaped their eyes, staining their cheeks and leaving a damp trail behind them.

Caretaker hesitated for a moment before moving from the doorframe and walking towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it while looking towards Whumpee in a more sympathetic way.

"Whumpee, I’m.. sorry. If I upset you or anything, I’m just worried about you." 

"I know.. you didn’t. I just.. want to feel normal again. It’s been four years almost and I still–" 

Whumpee cut themselves off while moving the blankets over their head, feeling a tight knot in their stomach and throat, thinking of Whumper, and how the thoughts of them still tainted their memory.

"Look I’ll never.. I’ll never understand, or even attempt to understand, 100% of what you went through, but I’m not giving up on you Whumpee, and I’m not going to let ‘Them’ get close to you.”

Caretaker paused for a moment while watching Whumpee curiously for a moment.

“Is it okay if I touch you, Whumpee?" 

They stayed quiet for a moment before nodding faintly, only to quietly reaffirm themselves with a soft, "Yes…" 

Caretaker smiled lightly, though it was in a more tender, softer way as they reached out, putting their palm flat against Whumpee’s back while slowly moving their hand up and down in a more soothing motion.

They felt Whumpee tense lightly initially, though they understood this was only an automatic response. After a few minutes, Caretaker could feel Whumpee relaxing a little more, slowly easing against their hand in a sense while moving the blankets from their head after a few minutes. 

Whumpee took a few slower, deep breaths while turning over towards Caretaker.

Feeling more relaxed and less anxious from their gentle care, it made Whumpee feel faintly guilty now for snapping at them so irrationally.

"I’m Sorry.." 

"You don’t have to apologize, Whumpee—”

“No, I do.. I just overreacted as usual.. I know you’re worried and just.. want to make sure I’m doing okay, and sometimes it’s hard to know that someone actually cares.." 

"It’s all right, Whumpee; I forgive you for what it’s worth, but I don’t think this is necessary.”

There was a light pause of silence between them as Whumpee turned more towards Caretaker, sitting up while reaching their arms out around their shoulders, resting their head down a bit.

Caretaker looked down a bit more surprised while feeling unsure of what to do for a moment, before slowly moving their arms around Whumpee’s back, lightly holding them. 

“Can you.. just hold me like this for a few minutes, please..?" 

"Mhm, I think I can do that for you, Whumpee.” Caretaker smiled faintly while tightening their grip a little bit, so they had a more firm, yet soft hold on Whumpee while leaning back against the headboard. 

Caretaker noticed Whumpee had fallen asleep after a few minutes; their heads rested against their shoulders, their arms now loosely draped around Caretaker.

Caretaker smiled softly while raising their hand, brushing a few strands of hair from Whumpee’s face while shifting them a bit into a more comfortable position, keeping their arms securely around Whumpee while closing their own eyes after a moment, before falling asleep themselves a few minutes later. 

{End}

Taglist:@whatgoeswhumpinthenight​​@madrono-but-i-am-not-a-fruit​@cowboy-anon​​@straight-to-the-pain​​ @myst-in-the-mirror​​@whumpers-inc​​@thats-my-type-writer​​@whump-cafe@whumpasaurus101​@jezifster@bandages-andobsessions@voltron-for-ever

“Be Still.”

Tw: Blood, Restrained by Barbwire, Female Whumpee, Guns, Gunshots, Threats, Begging, Implied Death? (This could be made into a p.2 later, so.. idk), Neglect, Captivity, Male Whumper.

@badthingshappenbingoTrope: Barbed Wire.

Whumper is a hunter, and his forced companion, Whumpee, cannot tolerate the sound of gunfire. It terrifies her. So Whumper comes up with a way to possibly help fix that unfortunate fear.

× × ×

Whumpee held her breath tightly in her chest as hot tears burned her cheeks, as she suddenly heard a loud Bang–! 

She was only feet away from the sounds of a 9mm handgun being fired off in front of her, causing her to unconsciously flinch, tugging at the barbed wire wound tightly around her wrist, holding her arms high over her head, making the mental barbs dig deeply into her soft ivory flesh.

Thin warm trails of scarlet blood stained Whumpee’s arms as she let out a scream, closing her eyes, pressing her back close to the wall behind her as a searing pain inflamed her wrist more.

“You’re going to get used to hearing gunfire sooner or later. For your sake? I’d say the sooner the better.” Whumper scoffed calmly, not even bothering to gaze over in her direction.

Whumpee bit her tongue tightly while opening her eyes, wincing in pain as she tried to relax herself so that the barbed wire clawing into her skin didn’t add any more tension.

Before she could make any attempt to respond, Whumper raised his arms in front of himself while taking aim at the human-shaped target in front of him, firing another shot, again hearing a pained scream from Whumpee’s direction.

Whumper sighed in annoyance while placing the gun down hard on the table in front of him, glaring over in Whumpee’s direction. 

“You know, it was cute at first. But now this is frankly starting to piss me off, you whiny little bitch." He said this bitterly while picking up a pair of gloves from the table and slipping them on as he turned towards Whumpee.

Her eyes widened. In a panic, she saw him walking towards a small roll of barbed wire he had stored in a small crate near Whumpee as he bent over, reeling from the spool, cutting the appropriate length with a pair of pliers attached to his belt.

"P-please n-no.. I’ll stop– I-i won't–" 

"Tch, darling.. don’t you think it’s a little late for that?" 

"No! I’ll be s-still, I swear, just– Don’t!" 

She screeched as Whumper tied the length of the wire around her chest, back, and abdomen tightly enough that the barbs only poked against Whumpee’s frail skin, until she unwittingly moved again.

"Well, be still then, Whumpee.. or this is going to hurt a lot more than it needs to.”

Whumper warned her as he walked back towards the table, tossing his gloves to the side of the table again while picking his gun up and taking aim again.

Whumpee tried hard to steady her trembling while watching Whumper with wide eyes.

Bang–! 

Whumpee’s instincts to suddenly flich from the abrupt noise caused the wire around her wrist and now her torso to rip into her skin, causing small shallow lacerations across her body and leaving trails of deep crimson blood painted on her body.

Whumper watched in a faintly disappointed way as the pained cries continued to echo throughout the room.

“Truly pathetic.” Whumper scoffed as he shook his head, watching her tremble from the sheer pain coursing through her body.

“But I do have a meet up to get to too. Perhaps we can try this later.. If you haven’t bled out by the time I get back." 

"can’t.. le..ave me.. m'plea..se.." 

Whumpee tearfully begged Whumper as she watched him glance towards her, ignoring her words and desperate looks as he continued to walk out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Leaving Whumpee In the fluorescently lit room alone, she was painted in her own blood as her body trembled unconsciously from the searing pain flaring throughout every inch of her body.

‘Be.. st-still..’ she thought to herself quietly, closing her eyes slowly, trying to ignore the pain and lightheaded feelings.

'Just.. stay.. still..’

{End}

whumpadventureprompts:

“Raise my right arm,” says Whumpee.

Caretaker stares at them. “What?”

“My right arm. It’s broken and I need my hand raised to cast this spell.”

Top Tier Grab: neck right at the base of the jaw.

Whumper’s hand against Whumpee’s throat, their fingers and thumb digging into the corners of their jaw. Perhaps just lightly turning their head back and forth, maybe flexing their control, maybe examining their prize.

Feeling Whumpee swallow against their palm.

Yeah. Good stuff.

whumpfairy:

let’s talk abt the diversity of bridal carrying bc it’s a timeless fav of mine

—when whumpee is sick (especially if they have a fever) so caretaker wraps them in a blanket and carries them to bed. bonus points for feverish mumbling and reassuring forehead kisses

—during a rescue, when whumpee is too weak to run

—after whumpee has been through some kind of traumatic event. they could be injured or just terrified, and they want nothing more than to curl up in the safety of caretaker’s arms and hide away from the pain

—when whumpee is unconscious or asleep and caretaker’s heart breaks a little at how peaceful they look

—after a nightmare. maybe caretaker is carrying whumpee to their own bed or the couch, murmuring soothingly as whumpee trembles

—touch starved whumpees completely melting into caretaker

—whumpee collapsing into caretaker’s arms <33333

—just the way caretaker carries them. the tenderness and worry, even in a moment of desperation. the way they cling to whumpee like they’re scared to let go, never dropping them or letting any more harm come to them, clutching them tighter and glaring at anyone who so much as looks at whumpee the wrong way. or just holding them to their chest and pressing gentle kisses to the top of their head, whispering into their hair, promising they’re going to be okay

—how whumpee reacts to being carried. the way they curl tightly to caretaker’s chest and cling to their shirt, or wrap their arms weakly around their neck. going limp in caretaker’s arms and trusting them to keep them safe, maybe even falling asleep. or just pressing their face into caretaker’s shoulder and crying, finally letting themselves break

in conclusion bridal carrying superior