#tsundere whumpee | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hittingthebrainsfunnybone · 1 year

Text

CW: Kinda gorey, lady on lady whump, whumper x whumpee, it has a fluff tone despite violence

Akari and Andromeda accidentally made eye contact while Akari was straining to wrench the bloody stake from her stomach and they both giggled.

"What~? Why are you laughing~? Pft-" Andromeda trot over to the other girl and the metal grate below them made an echoey thump thump thump. She waved a hand in front of Akari's face and her dazed expression seemed to follow the motion. "You wouldn't just pretend to be weak to make me do it right? I'm just a lab tech~! I don't have super strength like you~" She smiled at Akari and nodded down to the pole skewering her.

Akari chuckled back. The demon reached over to wipe the slick of warm blood on her hand onto the sleeve of Andromeda's lab coat- that got her a slap on the shoulder- then got a better grip on the thing impaling her. A small grunt of effort, but Akari managed to extract it from both the examination table and her body in one smooth movement, with just one hand~ Unbothered by the squelch of her own eviscerated innards threatening to topple out, Akari sat up and presented the freed weapon with a grin and flexed a little more when Andromeda clapped.

"So~? How was it this time?"

"Only four days, five hours, and thirty six minutes in your planet's time! You're definitely getting stronger~ Last time it was longer than... what was-"

"A week?"

"That's it~! If only there were more specimens like you, then I could actually report conclusions about our study together." Andromeda frowned and swung a leg over the table to sit on Akari's lap. She hadn't been able to find any other Earthlings that could regenerate as fast as Akari. And even in the intergalactic community, it was more common for organisms to become weaker with consecutive instances of total organ failure, not recover faster every time like her star test subject. Andromeda whipped around to show her pouting face to Akari and that horrible woman rolled her eyes!

Akari wrapped an arm around the moody genius and rubbed off a bit of her blood from Andromeda's hand "You're thinking about it again, I can tell. I'm really not hiding anything~! There's just nothing else to tell you- I didn't study demons, I just am one! Parents said it was a family curse or something, dunno. Maybe when you get time off, we could drop by and look at some of the old family journals my grandfather likes to hoard." Akari cackled and ran her clawed nails across the neat little bow tie covering Andromeda's throat. "We can make photocopies and fax them to your fancy space computer~ No paper needed~"

Andromeda's smile twitched and she exhaled, specifically in the way Earthlings did to convey their contempt for the sheer audacity of another's rudeness. Pursing her lips, she sneakily shifted her position on Akari's lap to snatch up a handful of her intestines and yank. A long stretch of the fragile digestive tract draped out of her stomach and Andromeda blushed.

Akari had been handling the pain like a boss, as per usual, but she could admit that catching her off guard wasn't impossible. Her breath hitched when the sharp pain shot through her gut and the pull against all that torn tissue wasn't anything to sneeze at either. She thought the annoyed groan was enough to get the point across, but for some reason Andromeda was too busy glaring and going red in the face to realize she was getting a different kind of red all over the place and that Akari was holding out a hand- asking for her goddamn intestines back.

Andromeda scoffed but she tried to loosen her grip a bit. "Ugh! It's not like that! You were teasing me and- I forgot how long they were okay?! I was gonna pull you in all close and sexy like in your movies, but then more of your ugly flesh tube just came out- Stop laughing! You're choking on your own blood just to laugh at me~? It makes you look stupid, close your fucking mouth!"

Akari really was gagging on her own blood in her fit of laughter, but even then she caught Andromeda's flailing punch. After getting the giggles out of her system and coughing up more blood onto her already filthy blood caked skin, Akari finally caught her breath and held up her hand to speak.

"Okay-" Andromeda was already prickling at the shit-eating grin plastered across Akari’s face. “I’m sorry for making fun of your completely normal and not at all funny crippling paper allergy. And I wasn’t kidding about the digital copies, our tech isn’t *that* far behind. Maybe it won’t airdrop to your ship or whatever, but my laptop’s probably still in my room gathering dust. There’s no way my mom would throw it out.”

Akari’s grin faded as her offer got more serious, and the warm tones in her voice really came out, and the sincerity in those pleading puppy dog eyes- Like that was fair!

”Hmph!” Andromeda lunged in to peck Akari on the cheek and hastily jam the intestines back into her gut in one move. Then she hopped back off her lap. A glance down before she smoothed out her skirt reminded her how much of a mess it was, soaked in blood, but a glance at Akari made her feel a little better about her own lack of decorum. The woman’s usually smooth, perfect, inexplicably unblemished skin and killer silhouette…- After all the injuries over the months Andromeda had been examining her, her body was still identical. But of course right now, the grime and guts would make anyone wrinkle their nose.

”If you’re sure it’s safe, then we’ll go- But make sure scrubbing off is part of fixing yourself up! You smell disgusting!”

5 notes · View notes

vampire-bite · 22 days

Text

the Redacted vampires and werewolves + their listeners, ranked on how whumpable they are on a scale of one to ten (+ a bonus of what type of whump fits them most)

This is based on my taste, and ill do more boys maybe

Sam: 5/10, maybe 6. there’s a lot of caretaker energy, which sort of comes with the territory of being a healer, but there’s also a lot of emotional turmoil, so I’d say it’s about 50/50 on which way you want to go. Prime candidate for the whump of healing others at the cost of your own physical wellbeing. Someone make a fic where once you’re turned into a vampire you can’t heal without it being like empathetic or something.

Darlin: 9/10: i mean, naturally. I don’t feel the need to explain this, it seems self explanatory. I’d say they’re best for hiding injuries. They’re the type of character who suddenly collapses when everyone thinks they’re all in the clear.

Vincent: 7/10: You already have immense survivors guilt to work with, plus the situation of him being invoked, and just generally his complicated feelings about his turning. I only put him so low because he’s not really a character I can see physical whump with and i am trying to rate them based on how whumpee-able they are, in both physical and mental ways. Obviously, survivor’s guilt whump is your go-to here.

Lovely: 10/10: Constantly being whumped in canon. Again, don’t feel the need to explain this. Their whump type I think depends on what era Lovely we’re talking about. Because of course, nightmares are spectacular, but I feel like the idea of them overexerting themselves trying to use magic like they used to is highly underrated for after they’re turned.

Porter: 10/10: I’ve already said Porter is basically tailor-made to my tastes, but this also applies to whump. Any character who sees themselves as a weapon is obviously prime whumpee material imo. Hear me out: Porter needs to be kidnapped and tortured. That’s a defiant whumpee with clear motivations for your kidnapper and the opportunity to break him is just too good.

Treasure: 6/10: See, if we knew a bit more, I’d be able to rank them more accurately. As it is, I think their whumpability comes down to Porter’s reactions being a spectacular opportunity. I think they’re good for a being used as bait type of thing

David: 8/10: I want that tsundere obliterated. Basically has the appeal of a “team leader” whumpee, where the unusuality (is that a word) of him being vulnerable just makes the pain when he’s hurt in front of the others that much better. I don’t know if there’s a term for it, but yeah, basically. Injured and/or humiliated in front of the pack

Angel: 7/10: I’m not always a fan of the type of whumpee whos likely to crack jokes and stuff, but it sometimes is chefs kiss. That’s sort of angel’s thing. Something about them gives me buried under rubble vibes.

Asher: 8/10: See above about whumpees who are sort of joking around to distract from their pain. I can’t exactly explain why I like Asher more, but just. Trust me. Probably something to do with the inversion. Just one fic where he thinks he’s been abandoned and left for dead just one please im begging

Babe: 4/10: They don’t compel me as a whumpee too much. But. I want them to be attacked and kill the person and have emotional whump over that

Milo: 8/10: His descriptor is “feisty”, I feel like I’ve made it very clear that defiant whumpees are chefs kiss. And there’s canon whump. Muzzle that man.

Sweetheart: 10/10: They’re WONDERFUL for whumping, guys. I NEED more sweetheart whump in this fandom. Overworking themselves is naturally perfect.

#redacted audio #whump ranking

9 notes · View notes

redd956 · 2 years

Text

Non-Intimate Caretaker

I want Caretaker to be an absolute bastard. Just a brash not used to doing this crap caretaker. A caretaker who could care less, or doesn’t get along with their Whumpee. Caretakers that have negative sexual tension going on.

Here they are! Have em’

-Speaking harshly and bluntly

-Caretaker bantering back and forth with Whumpee

-Ready to fight anything and everything for Whumpee

-Play fighting Whumpee

-Tsundere Attitude

-Shouting across the house to repeatedly check on Whumpee

- ”I will end you with my bare hands if you take this much needed medicine”

-Only changing their attitude to make flexible room for Whumpee’s health

- RIVAL/ENEMY AS CARETAKER

-Whumpee entering a room to discover their two caretakers throwing hands over who is better

- Caretaker ignoring Whumpee until the “great collapse”

- No dancin’, no singin’, just offering Whumpee a video game controller

-Isn’t used to being a caretaker/medic

-Over the shoulder carry !!!!

#caretaker #whumpee #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #whump #whumper #whumper x whumpee #non-intimate caretaker #different types of caretakers #whump prompt #whump ideas #whump tropes #whump scenarios #whump stuff #whump things #whumpblr #hurt/comfort #brash caretaker #whump scenario

317 notes · View notes

thewetcats · 1 year

Text

The power of vulnerability

woah I didn't expect my posts to actually get attention... Thanks for being here. I haven't accepted myself for my "interests" but it helps to know I'm not alone and the only one who likes this stuff

Anyways, enough of the mushy stuff, I was thinking about something silly once again lol

A cocky tsundere type character that everyone fears has really bad allergies that make them so vulnerable and helpless ik it isn't the most original thing but its cute to think about.. Mr tough guy is bested by FLOWERS. SOMETHING AS CUTE AS FLOWERS CAN OVERPOWER SCARY MEAN CHARACTER. One moment they're like "I own you... Don't you dare disobey me, pathetic slum!" Then they just randomly go "dammit one moment-" *insert funne dramatic snz attack while the victim is staring in shock and trying not to laugh*

Another thing that would be interesting is a sick kidnapper/whumper. They're doing their dirty job despite feeling so awful and sick and the whumpee doesn't know whether to show sympathy or be like "HAHA IN YO FACE BIATCH!!!" And is very conflicted. Imagine the whumper is so delirious they drop their whole sad situation and that this is their last chance and if they fail to keep this whumpee through the shipment, they get punished or something and the whumpee is at advantage since the whumper is weak and tired and whumpee is just like "idk man leaving them to get punished is kinda a dick move..." or "nah bye good luck" it would add very good character building of the whumpee and their morals are put to the test. Thanks for listening to my content drop.

May start writing and uploading short drabbles if I get the confidence to... Writing style can rlly expose a person

#snz #whump #whump tropes #illness #snzario #snz fet #snzblr #snz kink #sneeze kink #exhaustion #sickfic #whump drabble #snzfic #snz blog #whump scenario #whump stuff #whumpee #sick whump

9 notes · View notes

uriswhumpsideblog · 2 years

Text

Okay, dumb idea maybe, but what about a whumpee who has venomous claws and for whatever reason ends up scratching themself and getting the full effects thus needing to be cared for by a very disgruntled caretaker who is just done with their shenanigans (but not really).

#Uri rambles #whump #physical whump #whump prompts #whump prompt #whumpee #whump community #whump ideas #non human whumpee #monster whumpee #tsundere caretaker????#tsundere caretaker it is.#...#.......#.... can you tell i should be sleeping???

17 notes · View notes

whump-luna-sea · 3 years

Text

as i rarely come across these, here are some prompts with a stubborn caretaker, whumpee, or both (kinda like a tsundere)

„ah... that hurts..."

„do you want me to help you or not?"

„yeah, but can't you make it less painful?"

„i'm trying to do it quickly so the pain ends quicker, shut up..."

„you really should've gone to the doctor by now lah"

„someone was keeping me at home."

„just take this pill, it's good for you. nothing weird, i take it sometimes"

„but other pills are much smaller, these are impossible to swallow!"

„if pills are impossible to swallow, why would i expect you to be able to take it?"

„since it's so possible, why don't you try to swallow it?"

...

„oh."

#i forgot about this blog #whumpee #fanfiction prompt #prompt #whump #caretaker #recovery #script #otp prompts

11 notes · View notes

trope-appreciation-tuesdays · 3 years

Note

"I'm doing this for you, remember?" Could be a delusional whumper, a tsundere caretaker or a reluctant whumpee. You decide.

#whump words

15 notes · View notes

fancifulwhump · 4 years

Note

Pssst jaskier prompt if you're interested: I'm a sucker for geralt being soft and caring while refusing to acknowledge it - so a fic where there's something wrong with jaskier - maybe he fell into an icy lake, or is getting sick or something, and geralt takes care of him like a total tsundere? *angrily shoves blankets at him* *stoically checks his temperature* *gruffly makes him soup* *WE'RE NOT FRIENDS BUT ALSO I WILL SIT AT YOUR BEDSIDE NURSE YOU BACK TO HEALTH UNTIL YOUR SINGING AGAIN*

@hurt-comfort asked: Hey hey! Loving your writing. I'm @hurt-comfort. I would love ANY Jaskier whump (use any prompt on my blog). I'd love to see like, Geralt just needing to comfort Jas (because he WANTS to even though he has the social IQ of a potato.) "When the whumpee is in like a daze, just sitting and staring at nothing because of something traumatic. Then someone forces them to either eat, get changed, or just move. Like shellshock" and Geralt has to be like "Jaskier, listen, it's okay"

AN: okay, okay, there was a lot to work with here, but hopefully I hammered it into a scenario that makes sense? “Falls through thin ice” is such a great whump trope and also a real nightmarescape of mine, so… let’s all enjoy the trauma together, guys!!

It’s not as though Geralt doesn’t care. That isn’t it at all. If he cared less, Jaskier probably wouldn’t get into scrapes like this --- he’d find his own trouble, of the ‘incensed husbands and fathers’ variety, but would cross paths with far fewer monsters. If Geralt didn’t care at all, he’d have abandoned the fool in some insignificant village long ago and never thought twice on the subject.

If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have fished Jaskier out of the damn lake.

Fine. That’s... not true. He would have done it anyway. The terror he felt when he heard the ice crack --- that heart-plunging, vein-chilling terror --- he could have gladly gone without. Instead, he was almost frozen by it. From the ominous creak of the ice beneath their feet, to the sudden sharp scent of unfrozen water, to Jaskier’s half-hesitant “Geralt ---”

Before the ice gave way.

It took him too long to move. Too long to spring into action, too long to force his body to cooperate with his racing nerves. Witchers are trained to never be caught unaware, to react on instinct --- a slow witcher is a dead witcher --- but he wasn’t fast enough to catch Jaskier before he plunged through the ice.

Where he vanished, only a hole remained --- and the water underneath, black and churning, small chunks of ice bobbing like forgotten fragments amidst the inky depths. Nothing thrashed; nothing moved. Geralt plunged both arms in, ignorant of the cold. His lone thought was catching something --- an arm, a foot, the collar of a jacket, anything to prove that Jaskier was down there. Yet as he groped through the murk, he found nothing.

“Jaskier!” he bellowed, the sound echoing across the frozen lake. If the bard could hear him underwater, he gave no indication. Beneath Geralt’s knees, the ice creaked alarmingly, but Geralt fought through the natural instinct to retreat. Not without the damned bard. Dead or alive, he wouldn’t leave Jaskier beneath the surface.

He began to scramble, clearing snow from the frozen laketop to reveal the hardened ice beneath. It was like looking through a mirror into another world. Above was all he knew, all he’d ever known; below lay a foreign realm of darkness and desolation. Some battles even witchers could not fight, and a frozen lake was one of them.

Jaskier was nowhere, nowhere. Nowhere at all. Beneath the ice was a vortex of blackness, no thrashing body in sight. He must have sunk, Geralt’s furious mind realized, sunk right to the bottom, dragged down by that damned lute, and that’s the end of him ----

With a roar of fury, Geralt’s fists slammed down on the ice. “Jaskier!”

For a beat, nothing happened. And then the ice broke.

This time, Geralt’s reflexes served him well. He scrambled back, finding his feet half a second before the frozen ground he’d been kneeling on shattered. Back, and back, the ice splintered and broke, widening the crevasse of churning water. No longer was it safe to stand on; the ice would not tolerate any more weight. Geralt took a step back, gaze fixed on ice’s open mouth, gaping and hungry…

There, a movement.

There, something white and fluttering, like a bird in its death throes.

There, a fucking hand.

He moved too quickly for even the ice to catch him --- but Geralt caught Jaskier, and that was the important thing. In one swift movement, he hauled the thrashing man up, out of the water and onto solid ground. Not solid for long, though. Even at the weight of Jaskier’s body flopping onto its surface, the ice groaned and gave way some more. A hand still locked around Jaskier’s forearm, Geralt seized hold of his companion’s other. There wasn’t a second to waste, even to make sure he was alright. Heaving Jaskier’s pliant body up and over his shoulder, Geralt ran.

Ice breaks fast. Witchers run faster.

He would have tried to save Jaskier anyways, Geralt thinks as he sets the bard’s limp body down on solid ground, but it would be so much easier not to care. At the moment, he cannot stop caring. The crack of ice still rings in his head, dogging him like one of Jaskier’s songs; though he takes little notice of the water’s lingering chill, it’s obvious in the stark whiteness of Jaskier’s face. Somewhere in their mad flight, Jaskier vomited up any water he swallowed. Now, he simply shivers in his damp clothes, still gasping like a fish on land. Something in the icy air doesn’t agree with him, because he keeps coughing, and he’s trembling —

Geralt does care. That’s the difficult thing. Because caring for humans is a fragile process, a risk with limited possibility for reward. Humans are so breakable, and there are so many things that can go wrong.

Caught in a moment like this, he isn’t sure how to care for Jaskier.

“You’re fine,” is what he settles on, drawing back to survey Jaskier’s shaking form. “Damned ice.”

It wasn’t Jaskier’s fault, of course. For once, he wasn’t blindly catapulting himself into mortal peril. Even Geralt hadn’t realized the ice was so thin… which is the real bitch of it, because Geralt should have known. He’s the one with heightened senses, with the ability to smell damned ice in the air — Jaskier couldn’t have known, but he should have. He should.

“You’re alright,” he says again, awkwardly patting Jaskier’s shoulder. Even under his touch, the bard quivers… but he’s still in wet clothes, and the afternoon is frigid. Right now, they need to get him warm.

Surely that will bring the blood back to his cheeks, and chase away that expression — a wide-eyed, blank look, so utterly unlike Jaskier that it’s unnerving. His open mouth still gulps in greedy lungfuls of air, which he proceeds to choke on. Any chance of regaining his composure is clearly beyond Jaskier right now, so it’s up to Geralt to drag him back.

Literally, as it turns out. When, after a few minutes, Jaskier tries to find his feet, his knees immediately give out on him. He winds up crouched on the frozen ground, hands digging into the dirt, practically curled in on himself. His head ticks against his chest as he trembles, eyes squeezing shut. Geralt waits a moment, weighs the cost of Jaskier’s dignity against his own, and finally offers a hand.

Jaskier doesn’t take it. He doesn’t even look up.

“Damn it all,” Geralt grunts. This was exactly what he didn’t want to do — yet it seems there’s no choice. Either he leaves Jaskier to freeze in the middle of a frozen wood, or lead him along like a child. Since Jaskier isn’t in any condition to give his preference —

Tucking one strong arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, Geralt hauls the bard to his feet. For one frightful second, his legs seem ready to give out beneath him again; but Jaskier slumps into Geralt, trusting his weight, and manages to stay upright. Geralt takes one step forward. Jaskier manages to follow. Another step, and another, and soon they are walking. It’s not much — Geralt is basically Jaskier’s walking stick, used to ground him despite his violent shivering — and Jaskier still hasn’t found his voice, but it’s enough. It gets them where they need to go.

When Great grunts and nods to the horse, it’s enough of a shock to resurrect Jaskier’s voice. “You —“ he croaks, then clears his throat with a wince. “You w-want me — t-to ride —“

“Get on the horse,” is all Geralt says, turning away. Chances are, he’ll regret it. Chances are, Roach will resent him for it. But with Jaskier riding, they’ll make it to town within the hour. Given the choice between an inn’s roaring hearth or defrosting over a sickly campfire, he can guess which one Jaskier would prefer.

By some small shred of common sense, the bard doesn’t hesitate. After a few pained grunts — which Geralt does not turn around to investigate, because it’s not his damn job — Roach lets out a huff of her own, and Geralt starts walking. The steady rhythm of hooves behind him reassures that Jaskier manages to make it up.

His estimate isn’t far off, either. They make it to town within the hour, riding past rows of dreary brick-and-mortar buildings towards the heart of town. Usually, Geralt is welcomed with stony silence by suspicious village folk; today is no different. Having Jaskier as a companion does come with rare advantages; he burns so brightly and appears so guileless that people can’t glare at him the way they do at Geralt. When Jaskier rides into town at his side, they are often given far warmer reception. Jaskier charms cart-vendors, smiles at children, winks at passing ladies (and gentlemen)... he makes himself welcome wherever he goes. Geralt May be a far more imposing presence, but he finds himself swept up in Jaskier’s tide, carried with him where he goes.

At the moment, however, Jaskier is in no state to charm and cajole his way into a dreary town’s good graces. He simply hangs low on Roach’s back, head bowed, as they ride through the streets. His shoulders still quake with the occasional shiver; his breaths are a bit too heavy for Geralt’s liking, and he’s too quiet. Somehow, Geralt finds himself more preoccupied with Jaskier’s state than the hostility radiating from the wary villagers.

The local inn has a spare room for the night, a warm bed, and a bath. It’s good enough for Geralt. He slides their coin across the table, steps back outside to collect Jaskier off of Roach — he’d trembled too hard at the notion of coming inside — and makes short work of hustling him up the stairs. As soon as the door closes behind them, Geralt guides Jaskier to the bed, form hands pushing both shoulders down. Jaskier doesn’t even bother with a token protest.

“Your clothes,” Geralt says. When Jaskier stares at him blankly, he curses. “They’re still wet.” Frozen, in fact, hardened with a thin sheen of frost against the night air. Leaving them like that is guaranteed to lead to problems later on; Geralt has no desire to leave town tomorrow with a pneumatic bard trailing behind. He reaches out, giving the sleeve of Jaskier’s jacket a tug. The leather is stiff, sending a hail of ice crystals raining down onto the mattress, Jaskier doesn’t react at all.

So, that’s how it’s going to be?

If Jaskier won’t do his own damn job, Geralt will do it for him. Scowling, he manhandles Jaskier’s jacket and jerkin off. In moments, he is left in nothing but his undershirt. That’s soaked through too, but the fabric isn’t as frozen; Jaskier could easily shrug out of it on his own. Still, he makes no movement to.

“What’s the matter with you?” Geralt demands.

Jaskier says nothing at all. His gaze shifts away from Geralt, across the room towards the closed window. Something about him — be it his hunched posture, eerie silence, or the far-off look on his face — feels as though he isn’t here at all. Jaskier has wandered off without Geralt noticing, going somewhere far away. Wherever he’s gone, Geralt doesn’t know how to get him back.

After a long moment, he sighs, casting the half-frozen clothes aside. When he strides across the room, his footsteps resound against the wooden floorboards. It’s easier to fill the silence with something instead of nothing at all. Somehow, it leaves him feeling less alone. The inn’s portress has filled a metal tub with steaming water, leaving it right outside their door; Geralt makes quick work of dragging it in, grunting as he goes. By the time it’s set up, the floor is littered with puddles, and his pants are uncomfortably soaked — but the memory of Jaskier emerging, white as death, from the black depths stifles any complaint instantly.

Looking back up at the bard, he’s shocked to see Jaskier showing signs of life. He’s found his feet again, and even removed his undershirt. Now, his hands fumble at the laces of his breeches, but they’re shaking too hard to manage.

Geralt allows himself exactly half a minute to settle on absolutely not, before caving in. It’s either this or watch the bard bathe half-dressed, which would be even more pathetic. That’s what he tells himself, at least, as he roughly shoved Jaskier’s hands aside and undoes the laces himself.

“You — you don’t h-have—“ Jaskier’s murmured protest cuts off. The job’s already done. Geralt looks back up at him, unconsciously seizing one of his wrists; automatically, a hiss escapes past his clenched teeth.

“You’re still freezing!” Geralt has met ice wights with more heat in their bones. No wonder he’s trembling so badly — shock mixed with potential hypothermia is a dangerous combination. Either one on its own can be debilitating, but both of them bad enough could be lethal.

“Bath. Now,” he orders brusquely, giving the bard a shove towards the steaming tub. Still dazed, as though caught in a waking dream, Jaskier stumbles into it. He doesn’t even whimper as the hot water envelops his freezing limbs, though it has to hurt. His thousand-mile stare shifts away from Geralt and down to the water. After a moment, Jaskier goes utterly still.

“You need to soak. That won’t stay warm all night.” When Jaskier gives no indication that he’s even heard, Geralt grunts in frustration and kneels at the side of the tub. “Hey!” He gives Jaskier’s shoulder a jolt, and he jerks to attention abruptly. The blatant fear in his eyes takes Geralt aback. He expected exhaustion, even irritation, but not — whatever this is.

“The water closed over my head,” Jaskier exhales, and evening his voice sounds a thousand leagues away. “It happened so fast… like I was swallowed. And I couldn’t — I couldn’t breathe, Geralt, I couldn’t — couldn’t swim. It was so cold —“

“Jaskier.” His hand is still gripping a bony shoulder; now, Geralt’s hold tightens, pulling his companion towards him. When Jaskier tries to pull back, he won’t let him. “Look at me. Hey.” Jaskier is still trembling, but Geralt grounds him with the contact, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You,” he says slowly, “are safe. This water is warm. It’s not going to hurt you. Nothing’s going to hurt you as long as I’m here.”

“It almost—“ Jaskier starts, then cuts off. Geralt understands anyway. It feels like a blade to the gut.

“I know,” he says after a long moment. “I’m… sorry.”

“Sorry?” Jaskier blinks at him, as though slowly awakening from a deep sleep. “Geralt… you saved me.”

But he wasn’t fast enough. “Still.”

Slowly, Jaskier shakes his head. His legs relax in the water, fully submerging, and he sinks up to his chest. Finally, finally, he’s no longer trembling. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s not what Geralt deserves, but this day has given Jaskier nothing he deserves either — not a near-death in a frozen lake, not the clumsy care of a brute who has no idea what he’s doing. This bath is the first nice thing to happen to him all day… and suddenly, Geralt is determined that Jaskier shall enjoy it.

Reaching in, he cups a palm full of water, and releases it over one pale, bare shoulder. Unwillingly, Jaskier lets out a gasp. Steam rises and quickly evaporated off of the chilled skin, but the mere touch of water is enough to make Jaskier want more. He quickly sinks down, submerging himself up to his chin. Geralt watches carefully, intently, just in case.

He will not be too slow to save Jaskier this time.

After a long moment, the bard shifts in the water and says, in a small voice, “Thank you.”

Geralt has no idea what he’s being thanked for; he simply huffs and turns his head, looking away.

#the witcher #jaskier #whump #Anonymous

148 notes · View notes

linguisticstomach · 5 years

Text

stuff that kills me

"How's your stomach?"

"You don't look well."

"Sit down before you fall down."

"Was that your stomach?"

"You sound hungry."

caretaker putting the back of their hand on sickie's forehead

caretaker putting their hand gently on sickie/whumpee's belly

bonus if belly growls before/during/after

comforting/loving belly rubs

bonus-bonus if all 3

resting heads on bellies either to sleep or relax

bonus if belly-pillow growls

"Don't be embarrassed; it's/you're cute."

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

"You need to eat." / "You should eat." / "Please eat something."

"I'm a doctor, remember?"

"I'm here/going to take care of you."

caretaker gently turning sickie/whumpee's face to look at them

caretaker gently rubbing back and holding hair of vomiting sickie/whumpee

🖤 s t e t h o s c o p e s 🖤

draping a jacket or blanket around shivering shoulders

"I'm not hungry," followed by immediate loud stomach growl

characters holding/rubbing their own noisy or aching belly

loud/frequent stomach noises in quiet/awkward scenarios

esp doctors' offices (T﹃T)

normally professional/stoic/tsundere/cold characters' bellies growling

their reactions ranging from sheepish to extremely embarrassed

/ / / / / b l u s h i n g / / / / /

the above becoming so hurt or sick that they have no choice but to be taken care of

but denying and protesting consistently up until that point

"You look pale."

"You're burning up." / "You're freezing cold."

"You're feverish."

sickie/whumpee's eyes rolling back

right before they pass out into caregiver's arms/lap

fainted sickie/whumpees being carried

the above being carried by begrudging frenemies

poisoned whumpees being forced to vomit by caregiver (fingers down throat or somethin, deffo not ipecac)

iron stomach/not even slightly squeamish caregivers

whumpee waking from nightmares/terrors and bring comforted by caregiver

when the whumper is or becomes the caretaker

"Are you eating properly?"

"I can hear your stomach from across the room."

"You need to rest."

"You're scaring me."

"I've got you."

hugs from behind, hands resting on or rubbing the belly

hugs belly to belly, one or both growling

kisses on bellies

🖤 n a v e l p l a y 🖤

"I've never seen your belly so full before."

"It's a good look on you." / "Your belly looks pretty good/cute when it's round like that."

one or both hands rubbing or holding a lover's stuffed belly

gentle teasing pats on a round/stuffed stomach

"You would look so cute pregnant."

super flustered easily embarrassed characters being the subject of teasing/flattering attention

aaaaa aa (˵¯͒ བ¯͒) aaa aa a

there's so many

i'm so weird sorry everyone sorry

#kink stuff #belly kink #whump #whump prompts #kink prompts #emeto #hurt/comfort #belly growls #belly noises #hunger

1K notes · View notes

freefallingup13 · 3 years

Text

I made another one~

https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/dfx26vo/whumper-and-whumper2.html

Whumper McBigBooty is a Tall, Thin and sassy florist from Ireland. His life is going nowhere until he meets Whumper2 Insert-Last-Name, a Thick, Baddie man with a passion for flowers.

Whumper takes an instant disliking to Whumper2 and the spoiled and mean ways he learnt during his years in Shrek’s Swamp.

However, when a murderer tries to breathe in the same room like sis go breathe somewhere else or don’t breathe at all like tf you think this is Whumper, Whumper2 springs to the rescue. Whumper begins to notices that Whumper2 is actually rather boujee at heart.

But, the pressures of Whumper2’s job as a hitman leave him blind to Whumper’s affections and Whumper takes up bread to try an distract himself.

Finally, when manipulative baker, Whumpee DumbPet, threatens to come between them, Whumper2 has to act fast. But will they ever find the intrusive love that they deserve?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These are so funny, I wasn’t expecting the last bit

Whumper: “oh why won’t Whumper 2 love me”

Whumper 2: *too busy killing people to realize Whumper is now tsundere*

Whumpee: “HELLO”

Whumper: qwq “I’m going to take out my feelings on you Whumpee come here”

Whumper 2:

Whumper 2: “Wait”

#whump #whump scenario #whump scene #whump drabble #whump dialogue #funny whump was not on my schedule today but it is a very welcome intrusion #submission

3 notes · View notes

rough-and-whump · 5 years

Text

RWT: Caretaker Archetypes

A follow-up on my last RWT on the Whump Triangle and Whumper Archetypes.

Our wonderful caretakers; masters of gentle hugs, brushing the hair out of feverish faces, sympathy grimaces, blanket location and laying, and, of course, the best possible at headpats.

But even though caretaking is generally a gentle practice, there’s all sorts of variants on caretakers that bring new variety to the post-whump experience.

Caretaker Our base caretaker - who comes in as many variations and flavours as our whumpers and then some. Caretakers, well, care for the whumpees around them. They might pretend not to, or mask it under other emotions, but deep down they worry for their team. Some caretakers want to protect their team from harm, others specialize in taking care of them after the harm; some are good at physical caretaking, others better at emotional or mental caretaking. Bottom line, though, caretakers care.

Overprotective!Caretaker Maybe they’re the oldest on the team, or the biggest, or they’re the “team mom” type. An overprotective!caretaker can be an inadvertent whumper sometimes – or at least an annoyance. They get flustered or angry or actually impose limits on their whumpees and try to protect them from themselves.

Sometimes, the overzealous nature of these caretakers pushes their whumpees to take unnecessary risk – and now we have a guilty caretaker (yes, that’ll be an archetype).

Reluctant!Caretaker I have several characters who fit this bill (Sarge and Rookie in relation to The Scorpion mostly). Often filled by a whumpee stepping into caretaker shoes, these caretakers don’t wanna help their whumpees. Not really. But they’re obligated to.

Maybe the whumper has some information about another captive teammate, or the whumper’s the only one with knowledge of an antidote for the poison circulating in the city, or the caretaker’s job is the keep the whumper alive (a la Dr. Fainleaf saving an enemy agent for later interrogation, or Sarge having to keep The Scorpion alive because police).

Maybe they don’t treat the person they’re caretaking too softly or carefully. Maybe they dig their fingers in a bit too hard or turn a tourniquet too much. This is also a great fit for a tsundere kind of a character.

Exhausted!Caretaker Oh my, we’re getting into the whumpee-caretaker crossover territory.

Exhausted!caretakers are just trying their best. They may have drastically varying personalities – Dr. Fainleaf vs Ver, even – but they have one constant: they’re fucking dead-ass tired. Maybe their movements are sluggish, or they’re shaking because they’ve had too much coffee, or they have a headache but they push through. Whatever happens, these caretakers push their own pain aside to caretake for their whumpees.

I find this isn’t as much a full-on archetype as it is a sort of transitory state. Most caretakers will run into a time when they’re exhausted. That said, I think some caretakers are more apt to fall into this state more frequently. (Lookin’ at you, Dr. Fainleaf.)

Angry!Caretaker Aka the “I’m done with your shit, stop taking bullets, you dingus” caretaker.

The Angry!Caretaker has reached the end of their rope. Or maybe they never had rope to begin with, and that pisses them the fuck off. They’re less apt to be sweet and more apt to give heck. Like the exhausted!caretaker archetype, these caretakers often aren’t always angry (except Ver and Major – they’re always angry), but they just reach the end of their rope.

Maybe they yell at the whumpee for being foolish or risk happy. Maybe they yell at the team leader for constantly putting everyone in danger. Maybe they’re an overprotective!caretaker who met their limit. Maybe they’re an exhausted!caretaker who is finally snapping. There’s a lot of reasons why this might happen.

Angry!Caretakers can cross the line into Whumper territory easily.

Awkward!Caretaker The awkward!caretaker isn’t quite like the reluctant!caretaker. They’re not reluctant to help their team, they’re just moreso not used to it and they fumble a lot. Maybe they’re used to being some sort of front-liner – a battlefield whirlwind, not a soft-and-gentle type. Though they mean well, they might end up damaging their whumpee more – and they pair most adorably with a calm or reassuring whumpee who tells them to take a breath and reassures them that they’re doing fine.

A variation of this is the clumsy!caretaker, who is competent and intelligent, but not the most physically gifted.

Tactical!Caretaker I wasn’t sure what to call this. This is mostly the type of caretaker Dr. Kieran Fainleaf is – invested in her role as a caretaker, but aware that it exists in a larger context. This kind of caretaker has been around the block and then some. Highly intelligent, competent beyond belief, they’re the “lead from behind” type. A tactical!caretaker is typically nihilistic and clings to realism, but knows how to present a smiling and hopeful face. They are not above lying to their whumpees to get them to feel more comfortable or safe – even if they’re not at all comfortable or safe.

Tactical!caretakers know they will need to make tough calls. They know they can’t save everyone, and they’ve lost more than they care to count (but they do, oh, they do). They also know they can’t allow themselves to get too attached, too emotional, or too down – they need to manage themselves in order to be the best caretaker they can be. Much of what they do as a caretaker is a performance – their skills are undeniable, but they know they can’t be truly attached for the sake of the team.

Tactical!caretakers often play an advisor-type role to their Team Leaders (if they’re not the Leader themselves), and are surprisingly perceptive and dark. They’ll often be (rarely – they know what bars to avoid to avoid breaking their image) found nursing a hard-to-drink beverage in a dark corner with a far-off look on their faces. It’s easy to whump them and I love them for it.

Hardened!Caretaker Sort of a final-form of the angry!caretaker and a less positive/strategic version of the tactical!caretaker. Take a caretaker; roll them in regret, lost whumpees, and an overwhelming sense of futility; sprinkle on some alcoholism or substance abuse; and liberally dust with a jaded mindset. These caretakers struggle to maintain objectivity and neutrality – let alone positivity or hope – in their duties.

They’re burnt out, on the verge of falling out of the caretaker category, and in desperate need of caretaking themselves.

Helicopter!Caretaker Often a young or inexperienced caretaker, the helicopter!caretaker (aka “help-icopter?”) is overeager, excited, caring, and emotional. They rush to help, often forgetting steps or accidentally hurting someone, and are quick to feel guilty or useless. That said, they have great potential and are usually a social glue for the team in some way.

Helicopter!caretakers can go a few different ways, depending on their personalities and team: they can be guided into being a highly skilled and kind cartaker, or they could end up becoming frustrated or feeling worthless and falling straight into being a whumpee.

Stoic!Caretaker Related to the Tactical!Caretaker, but perhaps lacking the strategic vision those ones have, the stoic!caretaker is a person who doesn’t show much emotion when they’re caretaking.

Mostly, stoic!caretakers don’t want their emotions to affect their whumpees - adding panic or worry to a dicey scenario won’t help anything. But there’s also a part of them that’s deeply uncomfortable with displaying emotion. Maybe they’re not used to it, or they’ve been trained out of emotion in certain scenarios. Maybe they don’t get how to be vulnerable. Maybe they think it’s weakness to admit that they’re worried.

I love stoic!caretakers paired with emotive whumpees. But I also love stoic!caretakers with likewise stoic!whumpees. How do you get two people who repress everything to be vulnerable with each other?

I think Tactical!Caretakers are my favourite. What are some other archetypes of caretakers that you’ve seen? What’s your favourite? What kind of caretaker is your favourite character?

#whump triangle #caretaker #caretakers #rwt #random whump thoughts #whump #whump community #types of whump

201 notes · View notes

rough-and-whump · 5 years

Text

OC Intro: FuturePD’s Dai Matsuro

Rebel delinquent bad boy, and FuturePD’s second cop-boyfriend.

#Dai

Dai Matsuro Caretaker-Whumpee-Whumper 31, Male, slightly above average height and athletic build Bi (girlfriend is the Sarge)

A contractor and part-time metalworking artist, Dai is basically a bit of a delinquent. Outspoken, rebellious, a bit of a jerk, but he means well. He’s a little all over the place given his eclectic interests, but he’s a sweetheart to Sarge.

A sort of male tsundere. Easily embarrassed, prone to jealousy, and a smidge competitive; but a darling and a teddy bear to his friends.

Relationships: Girlfriend: Sarge Caretakes For: Sarge, sometimes Kellan or Rookie Whumpers [infrequent]: Himself or The Scorpion Caretakers: Sarge, sometimes Rookie or Kellan Whumpees [infrequent]: The Scorpion, rarely Major

Common Tags: (unknown)

#oc intro #whump oc #FuturePD #Dai #Dai Matsuro

4 notes · View notes

rough-and-whump · 5 years

Text

Possible new OCs

So I was thinking about the BTHB I have and I have some concepts for a collection of sci-fi characters.

There's Fem!Whump Cinnamon roll, not sure the name yet. Would be a specialist in some sort of sci-fi tech sorcery and magic or something. Her left arm is fully cybernetic. She has short hair, is small, lean and a female cinnamon roll. (is there a term for that?) Generally tsundere and cynical. She's basically a "switch" in that she can be any of the roles of the whump triangle.

Then there's Rookie, a total whumpee cinnamon roll who is just trying his hardest. He's super nice, very shy and introverted, very cute, and the type to suffer in silence so as to not worry others. And of course this backfires. Everyone loves him. Full-time whumpee.

And finally there's the... Er... Major? I need to find a good ranking system. Some sort of military police, sci-fi thing. Like Ghost in the Shell or Psychopass. She's, like, literally She-Hulk. Very tall, suuuper muscular and thicc. She's Rookie's C. O. and views him as this tiny little puppy to be protected. She goes full berserk if anyone hurts Rookie. She is the caretaker and whumper.

A story I wanna do involves several prompt from BTHB:

All three are in some sort of heated battle grounds

Fem!Cinnamon roll blocks an incoming attack and accidentally diverts it into Rookie.

He goes down, hurt but not in mortal danger.

The big, strong caretaker goes full tiger C. O. and rushes to Rookie.

In a rage, she turns on Fem!Cinnamon roll and slams her against the wall, and we sec how terrified Fem!CR is of the caretaker when she is usually fearless.

Caretaker goes too far and becomes a whumper by branding Fem!CR in a rage while Rookie pleads for her to stop.

EDIT:

Decided on the ranks, so here’s the new descriptions.

Major, Fem!Caretaker/Whumper A big (6′+) woman who is very well-muscled. Think She-Hulk like build. She is not a small figure. She is a big teddy bear, though. Very caring, compassionate and protective of her subordinates. Especially the Rookie. She goes from protective and panicky stoic caretaker to vengeance-seeking violent whumper quickly, though. She’s the C. O. of the regular Patrol unit.

Sarge, Fem!Whump All-Star. Goes all ways on the Whump Triangle A small (5′ 2″), lean woman who is a specialist in the Augmented Response Task Force, a sort of combo of Section 9 and Psychopass - her unit is responsible for responding to calls that need the heavy guns and/or a response to heavily augmented or tech-wizard bullshit. Her left arm is entirely cybernetic. She has short hair, a resting bitch face, and snark for days. She’s usually the cynical bastard of the group - often whumped by Major and caretaken by Rookie. Sometimes caretakes for the both of them. Female Cinnamon Roll.

Rookie, Cinnamon Roll Whumpee A younger man, smallish in frame, desperate and eager to make a good impression on the force. Appropriately cautious, but suffers from a severe case of Critical 1 Rolling irl. He’s a gentle soul who just wants everyone to get along. Often has to play the injured control to the Major’s out of hand protectiveness, and the gentle caretaker for the cynical Sarge. Probably both Major and Sarge have a crush on him.

#whump #oc whump #new ocs #sci fi #bthb #ideas #fem!whump #cinnamon roll #fem!cinnamon roll #fem!whumper #major is stronk #sarge is a bastard #rookie is a sweetheart

6 notes · View notes