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honeybunny-og · 2 years

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Shorts #2

As Caretaker and Whumpee prepared for bed, Whumpee turned to them after spitting out their toothpaste, staring furtively and waiting to be acknowledged before speaking.

“Yes?” Caretaker asked, judging by the way that Whumpee fidgeted with their shirt’s hem that they had something to say.

Whumpee lowered their gaze now that Caregiver was paying attention to them, still too unused to eye contact.

“Um, well,” Whumpee stammered. “I was thinking that I might be alright sleeping by myself from now on, ‘cause I’m sure having to sleep in my room every night must be annoying. I mean you haven’t slept in your own bed in a while--not that I mind or anything!--Just, I’m sure you miss it, is all.”

Whumpee’s fingers were all tangled up in their shirt now, fabric pulled taut by white knuckles.

Caretaker couldn’t help but crack a warm smile. They both knew that Caretaker had only started sleeping in there to calm Whumpee down after their nightmares. To suggest that Caretaker wasn’t needed, in their own indirect way, Whumpee was telling them that they weren’t scared anymore. Caretaker had never felt prouder.

“Yeah,” Caretaker said, “it would be nice to sleep in my bed again. You snore pretty loud.”

Whumpee’s head cocked up, shocked eyebrows deeply furrowed. “I do not!” they exclaimed, the response so involuntary and direct it surprised both of them equally. It was even more surprising that Whumpee didn’t back down, either.

Caretaker broke eye contact first, nearly doubling over in laughter. “You’re right, you’re right. I was just teasing,” they lied.

Whumpee blushed and let out a little laugh too, tense hands releasing their wrinkled and stretched out shirt.

---

A few days passed with Whumpee and Caretaker sleeping separately. While Caretaker knew they should be happy that Whumpee was finally able to sleep alone, they couldn’t help feeling a little lonely.

Caretaker missed having Whumpee lying next to them, their face just barely peeking out of the covers, snores only slightly muffled by the thick, fluffy down comforter. Sometimes the two woke up cuddling so closely with one another, with both feeling less mortified the more times it happened.

Caretaker fluffed their pillow again, hoping sleep wouldn’t be as hard to find as it had been the past couple days.

Just as they closed their eyes, they heard the hinges of their door creak. Caretaker sat up and peered through the darkness at Whumpee, holding the doorknob and standing very still.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Whumpee whispered. “I just, um, I’m about to go to sleep, and, uh--”

“Want to sleep in here tonight?” Caretaker asked, phrasing it as a request and a question, something Whumpee often needed them to do.

Whumpee was slipping under the covers before Caretaker even registered their movement. They unashamedly nuzzled into Caretaker’s chest and Caretaker carefully wrapped an arm around them.

“I think I like this better,” Whumpee whispered.

“Me too.”

#i know i'm calling this a short but it's kinda long lol #whump #whump writing #whumpee x caretaker #caretaker x whumpee #whump community #whumpblr #caretaker prompt #whumpee caregiving for caretaker #needy whumpee #needy caretaker #they're so in love lmao #my writing #honeybunny-og

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slashthrashandcrash · 3 months

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that's how that movie went right

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whumpshaped · 3 months

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Hey there! Love, love, love your stories! I have a prompt for you:

A whumpee who is usually stoic and independent comes down with pneumonia. They turn into a pathetic, whining, weak mess; the complete antithesis of their usual self. Crying out for their caretaker, wanting to be held and not let go, etc. This absolutely melts their caretaker's heart. They sing to the whumpee to try and comfort them, offer soft words, and hold them close in a desperate attempt to take away the whumpee's pain. The caretaker is also responsible for administering the whumpee's medication (either IV or straight injection). This is one of my favorite whump tropes and I'm curious to see what you can do with it. Thanks in advance! <3

im rly sorry sickfic isnt my forte, i hope its readable. also thank u im glad ur enjoying them :D

tw sickfic, past trauma, needles (just mention)

“No, no, please—” Whumpee began coughing again, with force that was rocking their whole body. Caretaker was by their side in an instant, ready with the wet cloth to pat down their friend’s face once the coughing fit subsided. “Don’t leave me here…”

“I’m just changing the cloth, Whumpee. I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m fine with this cloth,” they whined. “I don’t need another… I’m fine… Please, just stay…”

Caretaker sighed. They’d never seen Whumpee so sick before, and they’d definitely never seen them so needy. Usually they would’ve scoffed at such ridiculous displays of affection and weakness. “It’s alright, yeah? I’ll just be a moment.”

Whumpee gave them the most pitiful kicked puppy look they’d ever seen in their life, including from actual puppies. “Please don’t leave me…?”

They relented, putting the cloth on the radiator instead of putting it under cold water and placing it back on Whumpee’s forehead. “If I can’t use that to bring down your fever and make you more comfortable, then you’ll have to take the medication for sure. You didn’t like that idea yesterday.” They felt like they were speaking to a child, and they knew Whumpee would’ve been fuming about it, had they been a little healthier. As it were, though, Whumpee just whined again.

“N-not the needle, please…”

“It’s non-negotiable, I’m afraid.” Caretaker gently caressed Whumpee’s cheek, trying to soothe them. They were burning up. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I don’t want the needle… I don’t ever want the needle again…” They looked like they were on the verge of tears, and Caretaker softly hushed them.

“It’s not that kind of needle, baby. It’s medicine. I promise.” They leaned down and pressed a kiss to their friend’s forehead. “I’ll keep you safe, okay? Even when you’re trying really hard not to let me. I won’t ever let you be in unnecessary pain again.”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #sickfic #past trauma #needles #comfort

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ratking-whump · 1 year

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Contains: whump, masochism, broken bones, blood, torture mention, creepy whumper

"You... like this." Whumper's grim expression curled into a grin. "Oh, you devil." They cupped whumpee's cheek, planting a soft kiss on their bloody forehead.

"Mm..." Whumpee's head lolled to the side, their eyes unfocused, lashes fluttering with confusion. They had gone pale, a stark contrast to all the blood on them. It was beautiful. "N-" They choked, tipping forward in whumper's arms. "-no, I-"

"Shh, shh," Whumper pet their tangled hair. "I know, dearest." Their fingers travelled across whumpee's back, finding the nearest nasty cut. Whumpee stilled, holding their breath. Their eyes closed, and they pressed their face into whumper's shirt, hands curling into their shirt.

"Pl-" Their beg was cut off as whumper dug their nails into whumpee's fresh wound, making them wail in pain, tensing up and arching their back. Delicate beads of sweat dripped down their forehead, and tears washed away flakes of dried blood from their cheeks. They moaned deliriously, shivering.

Whumper sighed in ecstasy, thumb tenderly rubbing the outside of the awful gash. "You disgusting thing," They crooned. "Desperate and needy for any attention, even if you're torn apart in the process." Whumper ghosted hands along their sides, pressing gently at mottled bruises and bloody patches of skin, elicting beautiful whimpers from their captive.

"I'm looking for a response, whumpee..." Their voice had a threatening edge to it.

Whumpee gritted their teeth. "Y-yes." Their face burned with shame, tears soaking into whumper's already ruined shirt. When whumper said nothing, they continued, for nothing but to still the awkwardness, the mind-numbing silence of the basement. "I... l-like," They tightened their fist, squeezing their eyes shut. "-when you- uh- when-"

"Go on." Whumper ordered, holding their newly broken wrist in one hand. The slowly began to squeeze, grinding the bones together and making whumpee squirm with the building pressure.

Whumpee sobbed, the pain lancing up their arm, but any movement only made it worse. "Hurt me-" They gasped, a shrill yelp leaving their mouth as whumper snapped their wrist back. Whumpee's mouth opened in a silent scream of agony, their broken body trembling in whumper's gentle hold.

Only then did whumper pull away, letting their poor captive slump onto the cold stone floors, gasping and whimpering, clutching their twisted hand to their chest.

"Well, then I'll have to get more creative with you."

#whump #masochism #masochist #broken bones #creepy whumper #blood #torture #implied torture #whump drabble

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pixelatedraindrops · 8 months

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About my Illness Whump Guilty Passion:

I really enjoy it ^-^

The only whump content I enjoy is illness whump. (no others) Why? Because content around it is usually super fluffy and wholesome. (plus anime characters specifically look really cute when they're sick. The flushed faces, the messy hair and the cozy pjs... and the weak tired voices… gah its all so cute!! >w<)

My personal favorite trope to play with is high fevers, migraines, and exhaustion/fainting 🌡️

Colds/Flus are super fun too (tho I'm not too graphic on it as some people are) 🤧I'm not too into snz (its fine) but I do like coughing a lot.

I'm not into emeto as an actual emetophobic with irl people…💦 However, sometimes I can write it in an implied sense with little graphic detail. And at times I do enjoy reading it if its not TOO graphic. 🤢 (I'm better with it in fictional media and art, but if it's irl emeto with real people vomiting, then nope THAT triggers me.)

Reasons illness/caretaking hurt/comfort tropes are my favorite

I love when a usually strong, serious, stoic (or asshole) character becomes more vulnerable when they're taken down by illness (bonus points if they become super needy >w<)

Really great fluff fodder for a Parent/Guardian and Child type of relationship. Or even a found-family situation.

Super wholesome and sweet for shipping, siblings, or close friendships. In sickness and in health as they say :3

It is not in any way a kink for me. It's just a trope I really enjoy and fangirl over, but I never get off on it. It just makes me genuinely happy. Its a comfort of sorts to me💜

Its my favorite type of genre to read and watch. And I even write/draw/edit it myself sometimes c: And I usually have my favorite character as the victim of it :3c

It's also made me really like nurse-aesthetics. Especially masks and thermometers >w<

Just wanted to gab a bit about this.

Here's my AO3 if you wanna read my few fics I have written~

And this is my prime whumpee~🌡️💊

Rain Code Whump Tag

Art Tag

Thanks for listening!

Fluffy sickies ftw~ <3

#illness whump #whump tropes #whump writing #NOT A KINK #rambles #sickness #sickness whump #fever whump #whump #caretaker #whump community #whumpee #me explaining why I like something odd because I feel like I have to justify my weirdness lmao

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allthewhumpygoodness · 2 years

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Hm.. today I'm thinking about like. A sick whumpee who doesn't realize how badly off they are but everyone else does. So the worry from their friends and caretaker(s) seems disproportionate and it only embarrasses them. Maybe they've been sick before and nobody took care of them so they're just used to looking after themselves or people not caring that much, or maybe they're just really really out of touch with how bad they're supposed to feel and not feel. Maybe they're just so out of it they don't even recognize how sick they are. Either way they really don't think all the care they're getting is necessary. Caretaker offers to help them eat/drink? No way they don't need that, sure they can't sit up without feeling like they're about to pass out but they don't need help. Their fever's really high and they're miserable and achy and borderline delirious and Caretaker asks if they want someone to sit with them until they fall asleep? Why should they do that? Sure they're miserable but it's not like they can't handle it. They try to get up and continue whatever chore or activity they've been working on and are gently led back to bed by very concerned friends - well, why shouldn't they get up? Why is everybody treating them like they're helpless? They might feel worse than they ever have in their life, but they can still function, right? Bonus points if they refuse the help offered to them out of fear, scared that if they accept their friends will only turn around and call them too needy.

#whump #sickfic prompts #sickfic whump #e's whump writings #also also what if they start to worry that they're being treated this way because they're REALLY sick #aka they don't have long to live #and people just don't want to tell them #and when they feverishly reveal this fear to their friends they get confusion and sympathy in response #the caretaker telling them 'no this is just how we take care of someone who's sick - do you not know what that's like?'

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

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Febuwhump: Day Fourteen

Prompt: blood-stained tiles (febuwhump prompts)

TW: blood, bleeding, knife wound, gunshot wound, fingers in gunshot wound, knife mentioned, gun violence,

*~*~*~*~*

Whumper knew there was someone in his house when he reached his street. He frowned, hand going to the gun concealed under his jacket as he walked down the garden path. There were no signs of obvious entry, but Whumper knew. He could feel the slightly laboured breaths from inside. His frown deepened when he realised that he knew who those breaths belonged to. He took his hand off his gun and went for his keys instead.

He unlocked his door and stepped inside, dropping his bag by the door. He continued into the house, leaving the lights off. His intruder knew he was here, knew exactly that Whumper knew they were there. He left the lights off for more of a dramatic effect.

“I would advise against breaking into the house of someone who can detect you from streets away,” he said, turning to the intruder who sat with their back against Whumper’s oven. That wasn’t what drew his attention though. It was the amount of blood that was on his beautifully charcoal tiled floor. Whumper pulled out a chair and sat down at his table, staring at Whumpee.

“Do you know what’s really inefficient about you?” Whumper asked, reclining back against the chair while Whumpee fumbled in their pockets for something. Their hands came out, stained with the dark red blood, stark against Whumpee’s pallid face. Whumper noticed the white knuckled grip tight on a box of Marlboro as Whumpee pulled one out and dangled it loosely between their lips.

Whumpee kept Whumper’s gaze the entire time with their usual stare that was a melting pot of all Whumpee’s emotions; bored, superior, empty. Whumpee grabbed the lighter from the box, a shitty corner shop one with a skull on the side. The flame gave Whumpee’s face a little life, a little colour. It made their face a little more human, made the contours and the shadows darker but highlighted skin pulled over bone and muscle.

Whumpee didn’t reply as they cupped the lighter, more out of habit to shield it than any real threat of it extinguishing. Maybe to shield it from Whumpee’s own cold stare Whumper mused and laughed a little to himself at the thought.

Whumpee dropped the lighter into the box, then dropped the box onto the blood-stained tile they were currently bleeding all over making the charcoal even darker Or, more accurately, was bleeding all over. Whumper suspected their wounds had healed by now.

“Hey. Did you hear my question?”

“Yeah,” Whumpee replied. They let the smoke cloud their gaze and for a brief moment of reprieve Whumper didn’t have to stare into those soulless, dead eyes. “I heard ya.”

“You musing on the answer? Or are you thinking of answering in the next year?”

Whumpee scoffed. “You’re so needy, Whumper.”

“Yes,” Whumper replied deadpan. “I’m the one bleeding all over your beautiful kitchen right now.”

Whumpee didn’t reply. They just lifted their shirt as if only now remembering that they were injured at all. The wound wasn’t completely closed just yet, in fact… it looked as if it was still bleeding, but it would be another couple minute at least until Whumpee would heal. Whumper frowned at it, Whumpee healed fast – something like warning bells sounded in the back of Whumper’s mind but no… there was no way.

“Relax. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“The smell of your stale cigarette smoke, however, won’t be,” said Whumper with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Whumpee’s left index finger twitched. An emotional outburst on Whumpee’s account.

“I’ll clean up after myself,” said Whumpee, taking a long, slow drag of the cigarette. The house was quiet enough that Whumper could hear the cinders sizzle at the end of the cigarette like a dozen little sighs. An extension of Whumpee’s mood.

“Oh please,” Whumper scoffed, getting up from his chair and stalking over to the light switch and flicking on the light. “You couldn’t clean up after yourself if there was a gun to your leg.”

“Head.”

Whumper blinked. “What?”

Whumpee let smoke out through their nose. “The expression is a gun to your head.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Whumpee. Did I stutter?” Before Whumpee could answer the question, Whumper brandished his gun with a flourish and shot Whumpee through the thigh. Whumpee let out a strangled cry, bending over their leg with a string of curses as Whumper crouched so he was eye level with Whumpee. He placed the muzzle under Whumpee’s chin and tilted their head so he could look into Whumpee’s dead eyes. They glinted like sepulchre in the moonlight, lifeless and temporarily in pain. “To your head, was it?”

“I’m not here to fight.”

“No, you’re just here to bloody my clean floors and irritate me.”

“Whumper, listen—”

Whumper’s hand moved in a flash and a second later a bullet went through Whumpee’s shoulder. Whumpee’s ears rang like a bomb going off and distantly they were aware that they were screaming, their body curling around the gun on reflex. Whumpee’s hand shot up to grab onto Whumper for support. Letting out a long growling groan through gritted teeth, seething as they sucked in a couple of breaths.

For a while they stayed like that, like statues carved out of stone. Whumpee under Whumper, white knuckled grip on his arm, head against his forearm to take deep steadying breaths and breath through the pain.

After a couple minutes the ringing lessened. Whumper ran a hand through Whumpee’s hair and tilted Whumpee’s head back to look Whumper in the eye.

“I’m listening, Whumpee,” Whumper said with a sweet smile. “I’m still waiting for an answer to my original question.”

“How my power’s insufficient?” Whumpee asked, exasperated. Whumper’s hair tightened in their hair in warning. Whumpee searched their mind for some excuse that would satisfy Whumper. “Probably because it’s only healing and not immunity to pain?”

“Ehh,” Whumper said, mimicking the sound of a buzzer being wrong on a game show. “That’s the reason your power is so fun.”

To emphasis his point Whumper pressed the heel of his shoe into Whumpee’s thigh. Whumpee let out a groaning hum, hitting at Whumper weakly.

Whumper let his foot up and smiled sweetly at Whumpee. “No Whumpee, the reason your power is so inefficient is because of the mess you leave. If you could just not bleed everywhere, everything would be perfect, you know that?”

Whumper crouched again and dug a finger into the bullet hole in Whumpee’s shoulder. Whumpee let out a mewling cry of protest, but Whumper just kept hurting them. Whumpee grabbed Whumper’s wrist with both hands and for a moment they stopped Whumper’s painful intrusion.

A moment was all they needed.

“He’s back,” Whumpee said quickly, the words coming out in a pained rush. Whumper stiffened. Whumpee let out a stuttering breath as Whumper retracted his hand only to grip Whumpee’s jaw. Whumper stared into those cold eyes and found fear glistening behind them.

“He’s back,” Whumpee repeated. Whumper’s eyes widened slightly.

“What?!” Whumper demanded, his grip tightening on Whumpee’s jaw. “What do you mean he’s back?”

“I got home and he was just in my apartment,” Whumpee whispered, their voice wobbling.

Whumper let go of Whumpee altogether and stood with a short huff of air. “Why didn’t you just run?”

Whumpee looked up at Whumper. “He was waiting behind my fucking door, Whumper… with that vile flesh ripping dagger he loves so much. It wasn’t like I stopped to have tea and a catch up with him!”

Whumper glanced down at Whumpee again. Then crouched and lifted Whumpee’s shirt. The knife wound was still healing. Whumper remembers that blade taking days for Whumpee to recover from.

“You’re not even lying, are you?” Whumper asked, more to himself than to Whumpee.

“Why would I lie about this?” Whumpee asked, their voice taking on a slightly hysterical undertone.

Whumper’s grip tightened on the gun in his hand. Fingers curling ever so slightly more than he had to as Whumper slid the safety back on and tucked the gun into their shoulder holster. Whumpee didn’t speak anymore because they knew Whumper’s mind was whirling, thoughts forming, making leaps and jumps that Whumpee never could. Analysing every word Whumpee just said to get to the real reason he was back.

“Did he follow you?”

“No,” said Whumpee.

“Are you just saying that, or do you know for definite?”

“I don… I don’t know. Shit. Fuck, Whumper… I’m sorry I— I had to run, and I had to warn you and—”

“It’s okay, Whumpee. I doubt he’ll come. He will have known you ran to tell me after you left so there would be no point.”

“He’s going to do it again,” Whumpee whispered, “isn’t he?”

Whumper pinched his lips together and stood. “Honestly Whumpee? I have no fucking idea…”

“What are we going to do?”

Whumper straightened at the question, his easy confidence falling over his limbs like an entire costume rather than just a mask. His shoulders relaxing and his usual smirk on his face as he glanced back to Whumpee.

“Who’s the needy one now?”

“I’m serious.”

“I know,” Whumper replied. “Well, for now there’s nothing to do. Any bullets left in you?”

“No,” said Whumpee begrudgingly.

Whumper nodded. “Good. Then once they’re healed you can clean my bathroom and have a shower. I’ll wrap the knife wound for you and then we’ll… I don’t know, order a pizza or something.”

“You’re letting me stay?” Whumpee asked, their breath hitching.

“Of course.”

Whumpee’s entire body flooded with relief at Whumper’s matter of fact tone. They opened their mouth to thank, actually, genuinely thank Whumper when he spoke again.

“After all you’re the only one who can get close enough to kill him.”

Whumpee’s smile turned into a scowl as they wrapped an arm around their stomach and another, they hooked over Whumper’s countertop to hoist themself up. “You could have at least pretended that you were worried for my safety.”

“I’m worried about my bloody tiles, Whumpee, and how best to rid myself of two pests that refuse to leave me alone,” said Whumper, running a hand through his hair. He let out a long sigh.

“I knew today was going to be a bad day,” said Whumper. Whumper walked out the door and into the living room. “I’m going for a shower. You know where the mop is, and don’t – I swear for the love of God, Whumpee, if you bleed anywhere near my couch, I will kill you myself. Understood?”

“You’re such a dick.”

“I mean it,” Whumper said, holding a finger in the air in warning as he disappeared down the hall.

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montammil · 1 year

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Whumpee overhears Caretaker talking to someone on the phone, saying how stressed they’ve been lately, how they haven’t gotten any sleep for the past couple of days, and how paranoid they are that Whumper could come back.

So of course, Whumpee blames themself.

The stress is likely because Whumpee’s sensitivity and neediness.

The lack of sleep is because Whumpee is always having nightmares or waking them up in the middle of the night to sleep in their bed with them.

They’re paranoid Whumper will show up because of them. Whumper is only looking for them, not Caretaker.

So they figure the only solution is to run away, where they’ll never be a burden to Caretaker again.

Now it’s a race to see who will find Whumpee first: Caretaker or Whumper?

#whump #whump prompt #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #whump idea #whump ideas #whump scenario #i have like three other prompts formatted this way lol #if you noticed just ignore it #for the sake of my own sanity

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redd956 · 1 year

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Cold Leader glanced over at Whumpee, analyzing their stern face for a only a second, before promptly deciding to ignore it. The two have pressed onwards hundreds of times in the past. They did so tirelessly; little breaks, mainly stops in order to scavenge, pauses to get the job done.

In the past, Whumpee's tired breathing bothered Leader in a different way. It was annoying how tired they got, how machine-like but still needy they were, how despite their obvious non-humanness they still acted so.

Today Whumpee's heavy breathing was bothering them in a different way. With every step the two took Leader leaned more and more into the idea of giving them a break. I mean they couldn't run Whumpee forever. Everything needed to rest, including Leader.

"Let's stop here." The words felt foreign and strained coming out of Leader's mouth.

Whumpee stared at Leader like they were looking at a dying dog that just begun to limp. However they resigned to the idea when they realized the seriousness that was in Leader's face. The two plopped down right on the spot. An uncontrollable sigh of relief from released from Whumpee when they sat, hissing through their teeth, and squeezing from their muscles in a stretch.

Leader simply rolled their eye at the notion, however they couldn't stop glancing back. They've been noticing a lot more lately. A whole lot more. Whumpee's tired eye bags, sometimes their feet hurts so much they limp. For as long as they've done this work together Leader needs to start treating them like so. Today Whumpee was a bit more beyond tired so that meant, Leader couldn't remember when either slept.

Before Whumpee even got a chance to begin laying out the night's camping equipment, Leader snatched it from their hands.

"I'll do it tonight." They droned.

On missions the two never really had much for "camping", Before Leader knew it they were offering Whumpee more than they offered most.

"I'll take night shift." They commanded, shoving a thin scraggly blanket into Whumpee's hands. Whumpee quietly nodded their head. Leader was Leader. Who were they to ever question? Ever.

Leader spotted the twitching in Whumpee's face. Whumpee probably thought that Leader has finally gone mad. Scanning the environment Leader thought over their journey. They needed to treat their "friends" better. Neither could go back to being experiments in that lab after all.

Whumpee fell asleep immediately, slumping against Leader. They half-awoke sensing they messed up and needed to move, or apologize or something. Leader's warm hands cautiously wrapped themselves around Whumpee.

Leader hushed, "Don't move. You need the rest."

Whumpee looked almost scared, but most definitely listened, relaxing onto Leader. The warm hands carded through their hair, messaging their shoulders. They made sure to sooth the base of Whumpee's wings, and press gently against where they assumed they last enemy tried to kill them. Neither ever realized how warm the other was.

Leader knew instantly they'd do this a million times over, however long the journey needed out of the two of them.

"You deserve better than me, Whumpee."

Whumpee sighed to that, before meekly answering, "Us nonhumans need to stick together."

"You're right."

#whump #leader caretaker #henchman whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman caretaker #whump writing #whump prompts #whump prompt #fun fact: this is actually a nightmare/dream I had #I removed the names and most other factors so you can only imagine what im capable of #whump stuff #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #mean caretaker #cold caretaker #stoic caretaker #redd converting their nightmares into whump

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whump-or-whatever · 1 year

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My Whump Posts Masterlist Pt 2

Will be updating as posts come out.

Part 1

Prompt/Dialogue Lists:

Non-Verbal Anxiety/Stress Indicators

Head & Face Injury/Illness

Leaving Whumpee Ruined

Angel Whumpee, Demon Caretaker, Human Whumper

Stoic Whumpee

Workaholic Whumpee

Ex-assassin Whumpee

Mentor Whumpee, Mentee Caretaker

Bathing Captive Whumpee

Defiant whumpee copes w/ humour Pt 4

Old Timey Prim and Proper Dialogue

Farm Whump

Individual Prompts:

Whumpee looking away ashamed…

Whumpee having head held under water…

Defiant Whumpee realizes how big Whumper is…

Whumpees who nest…

Caretaker and Whumpee are strangers…

Zoning out in the bath…

Exhausted whumpee can hardly see…

Kneeling, hands behind back, bloody lip…

Art in captivity…

Peeling injured back off tub wall…

Standing in the rain…

Slamming Whumpee’s head in door…

Whumpees who think they’re healing…

Team Leader getting cross faded…

Stranger on the doorstep…

Poison Parsnip…

Fall off railroad bridge into shallow water…

Whumpee hates being indoors…

Whumper making whumpee tread water…

Whumpee trapped with dragon…

Jumping out a window to escape…

Whumpee misses the people they met in captivity…

Self-sacrificial test subject whumpee…

Leave whumpee out in the sun…

Caretaker gets call about whumpee…

Whumpee scared of thunderstorms…

Telepathic whumpee turned whumper…

Both whumpee and caretaker flounder…

Whumper grabbing whumpee’s head…

Demon whumpee/archangel whumper…

Whumpee hung up with bruises hip bones…

Whumpee slumped against wall…

Severe dizziness…

Getting rid of scars…

Whumpee hiding injuries beneath clothes…

Needy pet whumpee…

Whump Vignettes:

Vignette #7

Vignette #8

Vignette #9

Vignette #10

Vignette #11

Vignette #12

Touch starved/touch averse whumpee & caretaker comfort

Whump Poem

Fav Whump Moment Screencaps:

Zed Martin

Whump Memes/Humour:

Stoic Whumpee

Caretaker after Rescuing Whumpee

Self-Sacrificing Team Leader

Unlimited whump

When you don’t wanna have to write it

Sword fights to satiate bloodlust

Random Character Gets Whumped

Polls:

Dull vs Sharp Knife

Whump Media Form

Fav Whump Method

#whump #whump Masterlist #whump community #whumpblr #whump prompts #whump prompt list #whump stuff

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straightupsickfics · 7 months

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What about rain, chilly evenings, and fevers for Ed and stede with the whumpee of your choice 🥺😍

ty for sending one! i went with sick, modern au stede here since i just gave canon ed a fever the other day, he can rest this time 🥺

oh wait i'm also going to use this for the "curled up with a pet" sicktember prompt!

****

"Can't believe you talked me into getting in bed so early," Stede mumbles into his pillow. He doesn't look particularly mad about it, tucked up just as Ed had left him.

"Mm, I can tell you're really broken up about it," Ed teases, squeezing his foot gently.

Stede's all but buried under the mountain of blankets he'd added to their bed this week — two days of breezy weather and he'd hauled out the autumnal bed linens — mussed curls and pink-tinged nose just barely visible from where Ed's standing.

"Here, tell you grievances to your daughter," Ed says, placing Meringue on top of Stede. He pauses to pet her ears before going back out into the living room to grab their mugs of tea and the novel Stede left on the coffee table. There was almost no chance he'd be doing anymore reading tonight, not with how stuffed up and fuzzy-headed he's been all day, but Ed knows he likes to have the option.

When he gets back, Meringue has curled herself into a near perfect circle beside Stede, and she chirps up at Ed when he re-enters the room. He eases the window open, letting the cool, early fall breeze into the room, along with the scent and sound of the rain that'd been falling steadily all afternoon. Stede really does have a knack for making things feel soft, and their room is no different. The weather adds to the overall ambiance, and honestly, if there was ever a time to be in bed early, it's probably today.

"Now, where were we?" Ed asks, sliding onto the bed beside Stede.

"Grievances," Stede sniffles.

"Ah, yes, hit me," Ed says.

Stede just gives a sad little groan, too exhausted even to complain, apparently.

"You look comfy, if that helps at all," Ed tells him. "Cat loves you. I love you."

"Love you both," Stede manages. "But everything's so..." He trails off with a wince. "Swimmy," he decides.

His face is a little flushed, his eyes tired and shadowed, and Ed's pretty sure the fever he had this morning is coming back.

"C'mere," Ed says, leaning over to hold Stede's face in his hands, drawing him in close to press his lips to his forehead, smiling a little when Stede leans immediately into him. He presses another kiss to his forehead, then nuzzles another one into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. Both are warm to the touch.

"You're a little warm, sweetheart," he says. "Think your fever's coming back."

Stede whimpers again. He's only needy like this when he's feverish, Ed knows, and he must be feeling bad if he's talking so little.

"Are you warm enough? Too warm?" Ed asks, eyeing the extra throw at the foot of the bed.

"M'good," Stede mutters, but he slides himself over closer to Ed, shifting until he's laying on Ed's chest, head tucked in close against Ed's collar bone, so Ed can smell the soft, citrusy scent of the shampoo he loves so much. "You're staying in here too, right?"

Ed's pretty sure he melts a little at the request. He knows Stede likes closeness when—well, all the time, really—but it's rare that he lets himself voice it.

He hugs him tighter. "Staying right here," Ed promises.

#tiny cat au #of//md #my fic #fluffyllamas 23 #this is literally just snuggling #sicktember

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whumpshaped · 10 months

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PROMPT: NEEDY

~🪴~

tw stabbing, captivity

"Please... just for a few minutes, please, I just wanna be held–"

"Stop being so needy!" Whumper snapped. "You should be fucking coweing in the corner! Like those first few days! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I just... I just..."

"No! Fuck off! You're here only because I want the ransom money! And you know what happens when I get it? I'll off you! I was never going to give you back, I don't care about you! I want you gone!"

Whumpee looked absolutely crestfallen. Whumper couldn't fathom what must've been going through their mind, asking their kidnapped for a fucking hug.

The tense silence was eventually broken by Whumpee's quiet sobbing, and Whumper let out a groan. "Fucking hell..." They reluctantly moved a little closer, wrapping their arms around their captive. "This is so fucking weird... You're so fucking weird... I mean, what the f–"

Whumper gasped in pain when the blade slipped between their ribs. They tried to pull away, but Whumpee held them tight, twisting the knife further. "Please," they repeated, the pleading edge replaced by a mocking one. "Please, stay, hold me."

#asks #distract me prompts #murder #stabbing #plant anon #captivity

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thelonelyempath · 2 years

Text

OTP Prompts: Whump

SICK/HURT WHUMPEE x LOVING CARETAKER

1. “Please let me help you.”

2. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

3. “You’re getting worse and I hate it.”

4. “If it doesn’t get cleaned, it’s gonna get infected. Let me clean it for you.”

5. “Do you think you can keep water down?”

6. “The thought of losing you terrifies me.”

7. “Get back in bed. You don’t need to be walking around right now.”

8. “I’ll get you anything you need. Anything. Just tell me.”

9. “Just go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

10. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.”

SICK/HURT WHUMPEE x SARCASTIC CARETAKER

1. “Ew.”

2. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more annoying, you have exceeded my expectations.”

3. “Don’t be so damn dramatic.”

4. “Can you not sneeze on me?! Please?!”

5. “Hearing you whine is like nails on a chalkboard.”

6. “You better be grateful for me taking time out of my day to visit you.”

7. “Ugh. You’re so needy.”

8. “You are really on my last nerve right now.”

9. “Get your ass back in that bed.”

10. “You complaining about being sick is making me sick.”

WHUMPEE/CARETAKER STORY PROMPTS

1. Caretaker gently hushing Whumpee’s cries of pain as they clean their wounds.

2. Caretaker carrying an unconscious Whumpee into the hospital.

3. Whumpee coughs (and/or sneezes) with broken ribs.

4. Caretaker feels their heart breaking as they watch Whumpee slowly die.

5. Whumpee drifts in and out of consciousness as Caretaker softly strokes their hair and watches over them while they sleep.

6. Whumpee has amnesia after an accident and doesn’t remember who Caretaker is.

7. Whumpee is in a coma after an accident and Caretaker is right by their side, holding their hand, waiting for them to wake up.

8. Whumpee is bedridden and Caretaker has to get them whatever they need.

9. Whumpee comes in covered in blood and passes out in front of Caretaker.

10. Whumpee is so sick they’re delirious and starts mumbling nonsense to themselves.

#whump #whump ideas #nsfwhump #whump prompts #caretaker #caretaker prompts #whumpee x caretaker #story prompts #writing #writing prompts

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quietly-by-myself · 1 year

Text

A Wicked Work of Art - Chapter 2

Masterlist

I'm obsessed with this story.

CW: medical whump, trans whumpee, test subject whumpee, experiment whumpee, fantasy racism, dehumanization, fantasy whump, intimate whumper, talk of noncon, talk of STIs, smoking, Constantine is his own trigger warning, "kid" used to refer to an adult, suicidal whumpee, slavery whump, talking someone down, talk of patient autonomy

===

When Vasiliki came back to the subject’s room, the subject was sound asleep. The combination of codeine and sedatives really had knocked him out. It was probably for the better, anyway. The kid was in horrible distress. Maybe he’d be better when he woke up.

Vasiliki knew he was lying to himself. The kid was suicidal when he last saw him and he would be suicidal when he woke up.

Back at the nurses’ station Vasiliki went, logging into one of the computers. He decided to read the notes that the nurses had left on the doctors that Vasiliki was overseeing.

There was always one problem child. Of course, their line of work attracted the worst kinds of people. One of the new recruits - a young doctor who’d just finished his residency - was a real sadist. Vasiliki had asked the nurses to keep an eye on him. He didn’t trust the young doctor.

And, of course, just as Vasiliki expected, the nurses were noting setbacks in the mental health of his patients. Doctors of the Facility weren’t allowed to directly hurt their patients with chains and whips like the handlers were. However, Vasiliki knew that forcing medication on patients and taking away the entirety of their autonomy did little to help them, even if that was reality.

After a little while of reading just how poorly the young doctor’s patients were doing, Vasiliki got a familiar craving. He pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of his lab coat pocket and logged off the computer.

He had his place where he went to smoke. When he was overwhelmed and stressed with his work, he found himself needing a cigarette. It wasn’t awful. He, as a mage of the light arts, would not suffer ill effects of the cigarettes like the mortals did.

Waiting there for him, also smoking, was Constantine. His green-blue eye flickered up, looking Vasiliki up and down.

“Funny seeing you here.”

Vasiliki forced a chuckle. “Give me a light, will you?”

Constantine pulled a lighter out of his pocket as Vasiliki put a cigarette in his fingers. In one swift motion, Constantine lit Vasiliki’s cigarette.

Vasiliki was quick to take a puff, breathing in the smoke as much as he could. When he exhaled, he watched the cloud of smoke float up into the uncaring sky and dissipate.

“How’s the kid?”

Vasiliki was shocked that Constantine would have the gall to ask about the subject so openly, with so much pride in his voice.

“Suicidal.”

Constantine raised an eyebrow, a grin playing at his lips. “He was always a depressive type. Only made him more fun to train.”

“Was it just you or did your guys also get a go at him?”

Constantine smirked. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Vasiliki.”

“You know damn well what I mean, Constantine. I need to know if I should put him through testing for STIs.”

“I’m offended that you think that my men aren’t tested for that shit regularly. Never had a problem with any of them. And I’m offended you’d think I of all people would have some myself.” Constantine scoffed. “But for the record, he was mine alone.”

Vasiliki searched Constantine’s face for any indication that he was lying. He found none. “Okay, I won’t put him through it, then. I trust you.”

“Well, I’d hope so. I worked hard with that kid to make him perfect for you. He’s exactly your type. Needy, a little bit dependent. He’s got a big heart. He’ll make for an excellent assistant or companion for you.”

Vasiliki had to swallow the bile in his throat at the implication that he would want to violate the subject.

“I’m more interested in using him for research.” Vasiliki flicked his cigarette. “He has a devil inside him, doesn’t he?”

Constantine nodded. “It only takes over when he’s angry or panicked, it seems. That’s why I worked hard to beat the anger out of him. That only made his anxiety worse, but I’m sure you can deal with that. There’s so many medicines nowadays.”

“I’m trying to convince him to go on something.”

“Why not just force him? He’s property, your property, right now.”

“I think that it does more harm than good to force them onto those sorts of medications.”

Constantine considered Vasiliki for a moment. For him, it was likely just talking shop with Vasiliki. For Vasiliki, though, it was something more painful - a reminder of the subjects he’d lost in his early days, before sedatives, antipsychotics, and antidepressants.

“Hey, Vasil?”

Vasiliki didn’t notice that he’d zoned out on Constantine. “Yeah?”

“I told you not to feel bad for him. I meant it. I know how you are, but he isn’t just a regular mage of the dark arts. He invited a devil into his body. He’s a special kind of evil.”

“He broke down crying, begging me to kill him,” Vasiliki said tersely. “I can’t see evil in someone like that.”

Vasiliki threw his cigarette down and stomped it out. “I need to go back. One of my juniors is making a shit storm.”

“Just remember our training, Vasiliki. They aren’t humans, especially ones like him.”

Vasiliki waved his hand dismissively, but he had little to say as he disappeared back into the bleach-white halls of the hospital.

—

“Asimi, are you there?”

Akakios recognized where he was, but he still found himself frightened. He knew he was dreaming. Dreaming was the only way he could see Asimi. Otherwise, Asimi was just a small voice that echoed in his head.

The form of the devil appeared in front of him. They were wearing their white and brown fur coat - their long, silver hair scattered across their silver wings.

Immediately, the devil looked Akakios up and down, touching his shoulders gently. Injuries and scars didn’t go away in the dreams Akakios had with Asimi. Asimi’s silvery eyes filled with concern.

“My dear, you’re sick.”

Akakios looked at Asimi with dead eyes. It only seemed to make Asimi more concerned. “I can’t live like this anymore, Asimi. I know you chose me and I’m truly honored that you thought I had potential, but I can’t live this life.”

Asimi opened their mouth, as though they would speak, but they quickly shut it and instead pulled Akakios into a hug.

Akakios broke down sobbing, the pain in his chest making it difficult to breathe. Asimi only hugged Akakios tighter, pulling his nearly nude form into their furs.

“My dear, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I know my presence has only made it worse for you.”

“No, Asimi. You’re the only thing keeping me alive.”

Asimi somehow hugged Akakios even tighter. “You’re stronger than you know, my dear. You’re going to get through this one way or another.”

“You heard what he said! I’m going to be sold to a laboratory.”

Akakios felt absolutely hysteric. He couldn’t keep going. He needed Asimi to understand that. Their magic was part of the reason he’d managed to stay alive for so long. He needed Asimi to leave his body and find another host. Asimi would never be happy being in the body of a slave.

“Take a deep breath, Akakios.”

With all the care in the world, Asimi led Akakios through a breathing exercise. Together the two of them took deep breaths, counted things in the dream world, and focused on the sensations of Akakios’ body. None of the sensations were pleasant, except for his face buried in Asimi’s furs, but it helped nonetheless.

“It’s okay, my dear. I know this all feels impossible right now. I know that you feel alone and hopeless. But, I promise you, that there are good things in your future if you can survive this.”

“Are you sure?”

“There certainly isn’t death in your future, Akakios. The doctor assigned to you is going to make sure of that.”

“I’m restrained to a bed and he’s giving me medicine. I don’t think I can tell him not to give me anything.”

Asimi hummed. “Probably not. I won’t discount how awful that is, either, my dear. You’ve been through so much. You’re stronger and more valuable than you know.”

Akakios didn’t believe Asimi, even if it was what Asimi believed with their whole heart, whatever that meant for a devil.

“I’m so sorry, Akakios, my love.”

“Do you really think I can make it, Asimi?”

“I do, my love.”

Akakios stayed quiet for a long time, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t find it within himself to say anything to Asimi. He’d just disappoint them.

“I’ll try then.”

“I’m here if you need anything from me, Akakios. You know you can always call on me if something goes wrong.”

Akakios nodded, his eyes red and puffy.

“Good, my love. One day, I’ll be able to join you in the flesh. For now, we’ll stay like this. Together, we’ll both make it. Okay?”

“Yes, Asimi.”

Asimi gave Akakios one more squeeze before Akakios found himself awake, in restraints, in that paper gown, on the hospital bed.

How he longed for Asimi to come in the flesh. Sometimes, he wondered why Asimi didn’t come to save him themself. Then, he remembered who Asimi was, what their purpose was.

It was so much bigger than him and his troubles.

To his surprise, tears were rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t move much at all. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but instead he was spread on a bed, crying, alone.

I’m always with you.

The familiar voice echoed in his head as he laid there, crying.

Right.

Even if his life had changed, even if he was seen as less than human now, Asimi would always be there for him. That, on its own, was the comfort that Akakios needed.

He wouldn’t give Asimi up for anything other than death.

When Akakios looked at the door, he noticed the familiar figure of the doctor, watching him quietly.

Akakios swallowed.

“Do you want to be alone?” the doctor asked.

Akakios looked to the side and swallowed. He hoped he’d given the right answer.

“Okay, I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

Akakios found some solace in the privacy the doctor was affording him, but knew that it wouldn’t last forever.

It never would.

After all, the only thing that lasted forever was death.

===

Tags: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @pigeonwhumps, @oddsconvert, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

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justplainwhump · 1 year

Note

☆ A plug or vibrator to wear covertly for Dany ;)

Thank you so much, moose! Now I had to write it indeed 🥰

[Dany's Story]

Ridley belongs to the wonderful @hackles-up and is used with permission. Prompts from this [ask game]

Content: nsfwhump (obviously; but not very explicit), noncon use of toys, a little bit of noncon fingering, dubcon kissing; intimate whumper, m/f, fake relationship between whumper and whumpee.

The security guard leads me into one of the backstage dressing rooms of the theatre. It's a huge room, yet right now only used by Ridley, lounging in a leather chair in front of a mirror. Someone has done miracles to his hair, worked out his natural waves to give him a more approachable look. This is a campaign event, after all, a political show, not a business one.

Which is also why I'm here. Allow him to paint the image of a family man, of a doting husband, loving and loyal. It's sickening.

The guard leaves, while Ridley observes me in the mirror, takes in the red dress, emphasising my waist while covering as much skin as possible, checks the way my hair is falling over one shoulder, before his gaze rests on my face.

I forbid myself to show any mimic, just stare forward, as I wait for his judgement.

And of course, it comes right away, a theatrical sigh, before he spins around in the chair. "Oh, Princess, when did you become so boring?"

I do raise an eyebrow now. "It's not like I chose any of this myself."

"Of course you did, baby girl. Remember, there were times when you chose to fight." Ridley saunters over to me and places a hand on my cheek. His thumb runs over my lip, and instinctively, I part my lips and lean in for him to kiss me.

He doesn't, though, just sighs again. "Booooring," he repeats. "I bought you for fun, not for ..." He vaguely gestures at me. "Whatever that act is."

I close my eyes. "You've won, Ridley. Isn't that what you wanted? You've said it. You've won, and I've lost."

"Yeah, you have." He smiles. "I always win. But it's the winning that's fun, not the having won." His hand wanders back, softly brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, before it balls into a fist and he yanks back my hair. I yelp, and he smiles down at me. "The fun is in seeing you lose, baby girl, and I suggest you keep on entertaining me."

He does kiss me now, rough and bruising, and despite the tears springing up in my eyes, I kiss him back.

His other hand has sneaked under my dress, caresses the inside of my things, the hidden scars and fresh bruises, and I feel him chuckle into the kiss when I tense at his touch.

"Not now," I whisper. "Please, you... You need to get on stage any minute."

He clicks his tongue. "Ever so rational, baby girl, aren't you? But you're right of course. It's an important day for me. Gotta convince some people to vote for me, give me their money... I need to be at my best, just as my wife, standing by my side, all collected and polite and pretty, nothing in her stupid little head."

His fingers under my dress push aside the sheer lace of my panties. There's something in his hand, hidden in his palm, brushing against me. Solid, heavy, warm to the touch.

I freeze.

"You want to be good, don't you? No fun without a challenge."

My back is pressed against the dressing table, and he pushes me on it. "Open your legs, Mrs Lordin," he mumbles into my hair. The toy in his hand is pressing against my entrance.

"Please," I beg. "Don't do this, I... I can't, I'll be..."

"You'll have to show some of that fight I got you for," he hums. "Don't embarrass me in public. Leo will be watching this. You know, he'd hate it, if you caused a scene."

"Don't-"

Someone knocks at the door. "One minute, Mr Lordin." They retreat right away.

"Please." I search for Ridley's gaze. There's perverse amusement in it. "This is insane, you know I-"

"Oh yes, I know you're a needy little whore who can't hold back." He smiles, almost lovingly. "That's why I picked this game." His thumb circles around my clit. "Open up."

My legs are trembling, as I obey.

"Here we go," Ridley mumbles, gently sliding the toy into me. "See, this is going to be great fun."

"Thirty seconds!"

He brushes my panty back into place and pulls me from the table, holding me in a tight embrace.

His hand vanishes into his pocket, and inside of me, the vibrator buzzes to life. I can't fight a shiver.

"Mh, good girl." This time, Ridley's kiss is soft. "Don't forget to smile."

#nsfwhump #whump writing #noncon cw #dubcon cw #dany #ridley lordin #my writing

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