anonymous-whump-enjoyer

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Relative newbie here, can I ask, what do you use instead of "/"?

"+"? "&"? "x"? do any of those symbols have secret meanings? what about writing out " and "?

boys like it when you imprison them in the ornate birdcage that hangs in the centre of your lair

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

if your whumper is trying to condition a whumpee to like them THEY CANNOT TORTURE JUST FOR TORTURES SAKE well..... they can't let whumpee know at least

there has to be a proper reason. Convince whumpee that it's for their own good. To teach them lessons, to make them prettier, whatever. And the whumpee's needs time to internalize it. A whumpee needs time to think about why whumper is doing it and how much time and effort whumper is putting into them, making them perfect.

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

We should have more carewhumpees.

More caretakers who neglect their own needs, pushing aside and downplaying their issues, trying to care for whumpee.

More caretakers who feel guilty for not having done enough, sooner.

More who need to fix it even when it isn't their business and they shouldn't. Who step in when nobody asked them to.

And maybe this need to do good, to be a hero, is to make up for something they did before, or something they failed to do. Maybe, no matter how much they help, they never feel like a good person.

They never feel worthy of their own love.

Even though they need it the most.

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

"all you have to do..." whumper whispers in whumpee's ear, "Is come with me. then I'll let caretaker go and we can be happy"

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Whumpees with an utter neglect for their bodies. Yes, whumpees who are too occupied to eat or sleep, or just couldn't care less about those things, but also:

Whumpees that don't really care if they get injured. "You're bleeding!" Oh, yeah, you're right, I didn't even notice. "This is dangerous, you could get injured!" So? "This will likely scar." Like I care.

Either this attitude comes from whumpee having been through much worse and not caring about some more scars and some minimal injuries, or this is the whump and the bullshit caretaker has to deal with.

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

this is where i’d keep u locked up if u care

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Ok, don’t get me wrong, I love me a whumper with mind control powers. But what about a Caretaker with mind control powers who can only help Whumpee through Whumper?

For whatever reason, Caretaker can't actually get to Whumpee or get them out of there. (Maybe they're someplace really isolated?) But their powers can reach there. So to help Whumpee, Caretaker uses the only other person available there: Whumper. They treat their wounds as well as they can get away with, hold them gently, exchange words of comfort. 

It’s frightening at first: however gentle they’re being now, those are still Whumper’s hands, Whumper’s face, Whumper’s voice. But maybe over time Whumpee starts to latch onto the subtle differences in Caretaker’s mannerisms.

They have to be careful never to leave a clear trace; Caretaker can't keep the control up forever, and if Whumper finds out they'll surely take it out on Whumpee, and maybe even find a way to block Caretaker from helping altogether. First aid supplies being carefully removed when their time is almost up, tears as Whumpee realizes what that means. But Caretaker won't give up; they'll help Whumpee again whenever they can. 

Whumper doesn’t understand how, after all this time, Whumpee can hear them coming into the basement and still look up with hope in their eyes.

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

- Kneel -

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Glitter

(tw: major character death/murder, choking on blood, throat cut, chase, recapture, creepy whumper)

Whumpee’s footsteps slapped against the tile floor. The sound echoed through the dark, empty isles as they gasped for air. Their muscles screamed. Their head pounded. 

They scrambled towards the glow of the exit sign. The eerie red light cast stark, choppy shadows in the darkness, turning mannequins into monsters in their mind as they ran. 

They hardly knew where they were going. Only two days of working here, and Whumper had already found them. They skittered past paints and yarn. Shelves and shelves of decorative paper. The pages sliced sharp lines into their arms as they flew past them, blind, scrambling towards the dim scarlet glow.

It was so close. Just a few steps further.

Whumpee breath caught as Whumper rounded the corner, blocking the end of the aisle. They slid to a half, scrambling backwards so quickly that their wobbling legs crumbled beneath them, sending them flailing down onto the cold tile.

Whumper’s face was cast in shadow, silhouetted by the eerie red light. Somehow, Whumpee knew they were smiling. 

“There you are.”

Whumpee scrambled to their feet, turning back the way they came. An arm locked around their waist, jerking them back.

“No! Let me go! L-let me go!!” They pushed and squirmed away from the hands.

“Ah ah ah…” Whumper teased, gripping tighter as Whumpee thrashed and clawed at their arms. “Dont try to fight me. It won’t do you any good.”

Whumpee gasped as a blade pressed firm against their throat. Their struggling twitched to halt.

“Aw, there you go.” Whumper’s lips were pressed against their ear. “Much better.”

Whumpee was still panting. Every breath pressed against the blade, pushing against it and drawing a trickle of blood. They whimpered, twitching away from the knife. Their voice quivered, hardly a whisper. “P-please. Don’t. Please, Whumper. L-l-let me go.”

Whumper laughed softly. “I told you. No one gets away from me.” They traced the knife to the side of Whumpee’s neck, tip biting into their skin. “You just had to go and test it, didn’t you?”

“I…I’m sorry. Please, Whumper. I’m s-sorry.” They whined, flinching away as the knife cut further in.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Whumper’s hand moved from their waist to their forehead, pulling them back against their chest.

Whumpee tried to scream as the knife slid straight in, but their throat wouldn’t make the sound. It convulsed around the blade, cutting it further from the inside. They struggled, but Whumper held them still as searing, hot pain clawed down their windpipe.

Blood started to flow down their throat. They felt it on their skin, but it also slid down toward their lungs, wet and hot, choking them. The slipping, suffocating warmth mirrored on both sides of their trachea. Whumper slid the knife back out. They wheezed, trying to sputter the blood back up.

Whumper released them, and they dropped to their knees, clawing at their neck. Their hands came back covered in back blood. It reflected the glow of the exit sign.

Whumper laughed, taking a step closer. “No no, let me see.”

Whumpee sputtered and coughed, trying to scramble away. Whumper’s hand clamped down on their upper arm, flipping them over. Whumper loomed over them, kneeling down. Reaching out in the darkness.

Whumpee’s hands blindly found the shelves as they scooted backwards. They gripped the first things they could find, a canister of sorts, chucking it at Whumper. Whumper dodged easily, laughing.

“Aw come on, no need to get violent, sweetheart.”

Whumpee sputtered and choked as they grabbed another. The canister broke in their hands at they threw it, showering Whumper in red flecks of shimmering light. The glitter sunk from their air, coating them. 

“Now you’re just making a mess.” Whumper growled. They yanked Whumpee by the ankle, sliding them close. 

Whumpee’s lungs burned. They couldn’t suck down air through the thick, hot blood. They choked and coughed, but more and more poured into their throat, coating every surface. They pushed against the cut as they kicked up at Whumper.

“No. Come here.” Whumper gripped their wrists, pinning them to the ground. They straddled Whumpee, rendering their kicks useless as they gargled, sucking the thick blood further into their lungs.

“Stop fighting me.” They leaned down close. “I want to watch you die.”

.

(tags: @prisonerwhump @mabledonut @whumpawink @heathenwhump @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing )

@wormwriting wouldja look at that. Bam. Glitter. Blood. Choking. Nailed it.

“Where they go hardcore, and there’s glitter on the floor”

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Pet whumpee for sale who's been passed by for days because they're so obviously traumatized. Nobody appreciates a pet who flinches and whimpers upon being touched. What's the point?

Except Carewhumper, who's been looking for this exact thing. Carewhumper embracing Whumpee and holding them close even as their breath hitches in panic, gently stroking their hair. Carewhumper murmurs so gently to them as they tremble.

"There, see? It's not so bad. It's not so bad, is it? Shh, shh... it's all right. Look at you, you're so pretty. Shh. It's all right. You want to be good for me, don't you? I'm going to take such good care of you."

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

spinning off of the death being peaceful idea, what about possession? like. character is possessed, and instantly thrown into a bone deep peace, floating in darkness away from their body, oscillating between the void that held them and awakening within their own most peaceful memories. after they’re freed, the can’t sleep. they’d always had anxiety, but after feeling what it was like to be safe…they couldn’t function.

(context)

Oh I love that!! Honestly I’m a big fan of ideas that focus on Whumpee’s mental state and experience while being possessed/mind controlled/ect. I think it can be very interesting, not to mention what sort of recovery would be needed after. It’s a niche interest but VERY high on my list of favorite tropes. 

I really like this idea, because it makes possession tempting to some capacity. It’s helplessness yes, but it’s helplessness that comes with a level of relief you couldn’t get otherwise. It’s control that makes you miss it afterwards, even after you’ve come back to your senses. And I’m so normal about that (lying). 

Just like, imagine. A team coming into fight a superpowered Whumper, unsure of what exactly they’ll face but armed to the teeth and hopefully ready for whatever they’ll face. 

There are more dangerous people on the team than Whumpee. There’s the powerful leader and their trusted second in command, both staring ahead with sharp eyes and trained confidence. There’s the medic standing near, prepared to offer support at a moment’s notice. The team would be greatly hindered with the loss of any one of them. But Whumper isn’t looking for the short term victory.

When Whumper’s eyes glow with power, when their hand extends towards their opponents, it’s Whumpee that they point to.

There’s a reason for it. The shadows beneath their eyes, the anxious wringing of their hands, the perpetual look of worry plastered on their face even before the battle began…one look at Whumpee and Whumper knows exactly who they’re dealing with. Whumper knows their type very, very well.

Whumpee feels the domination like a chill that settles on their body and refuses to leave. A chill that grabs onto their very being and pulls them down. Down beyond their body and the ground beneath them, down into  a darkness miles away from their team. 

 The last thing Whumpee does before their eyes go blank is let out a startled, choked scream.

Whumpee had expected it to hurt. They’d prepared for it, every muscle tightening in the millisecond between realizing they’d been targeted and succumbing to Whumper’s power. But the force pulling their mind down never tightens to the point of agony. Whumpe isn’t crushed, but embraced, swatted in a grip that's both gentle and inescapable. 

 It doesn't hurt. Despite the chill they’d felt, the darkness they’re sinking into isn’t cold. It’s warm and cozy, like the tempting comfort of their bed on a cold morning. They can’t hear the tense voices of their teammates or even their own pounding heartbeat. The dark is silent, but not unplesantly so.

It’s peaceful.

And I LOVE the idea of their positive memories being used to trap them. In the brief moments where their consciousness isn’t entirely engulfed in peaceful silence, Whumpee is surrounded by their friends. Smiling and peaceful and happy, not a hint of stress on any of their features. When the darkness splits apart, Whumpee finds themselves reliving the most comforting moments, surrounded by joy and free from stress. 

Whumpee knows something is wrong. They haven’t forgotten Whumper, haven’t forgotten those finally, terrifying moments before they were overcome. And yet the terror that should come with that memory never comes. There isn’t an ounce of fear or stress left in them, as if those emotions remained in their now distant body. Even their usual anxiety—the constant vigilante their work required, the general worries and stresses of life—had simply vanished into thin air. 

Whumpee felt light, as if the very concept of fear had been stripped from their mind. There were no worries about the future or even the present, no discontentment. They hadn’t felt that content in their entire life. 

There, embraced by that peace, it’s hard to care about something happening so, so far away from them. It’s easier to snuggle into the warmth, embrace the peace, and rest. 

The next time they open their eyes—their eyes, the ones sat in the body they’d been locked out of for minutes or hours or days—Whumpee is on the ground. 

They hurt. They’re becoming aware of throbbing aches across their body, something wet and warm dripping down their face. They can feel snapped bones in their fingers, pulsing with the heartbeat that sounds too loud in their ears. Whumpee’s body was returned to them bruised and aching. 

Their heart is pounding, mind swirling with disorientation and growing dread. Their fear pours back into them alongside the pain. 

It takes a moment for their vision to clear. When it does, they see Caretaker’s face above them. There’s tears in their eyes, expression warped with fear and hope. They’re bleeding, littered with bruises just like Whumpee is. 

Slowly, with Caretaker’s help, they sit up. Their teammates look down at them with worry and poorly hidden anxiety. Whumper is nowhere to be seen. 

They all return to their base, eventually. Whumpee doesn’t remember anything of the fight, They only remember the quiet, peaceful rest.  But the bruises on their fists match those on Leader’s face. Their body aches from a struggle they can’t remember, there’s blood under Whumpee’s nails that they know isn’t their own. 

Whumpee doesn’t ask what Whumper made them do. They let their eyes glaze over as they’re debriefed, mind skittering away from that painful truth. Nobody pushes them to remember. 

It’s difficult, trying to return to normalcy. Everything is simply overwhelming. Whumpee’s filled with a constant anxiety that can’t shake, their nerves burning with a newfound sensitivity. Their body aches with the evidence of a fight they don’t remember, making proper rest impossible to achieve. They can’t stop noticing the worried glances their team gives them, the bruises still lingering on their bodies. 

Whumpee can’t stop noticing the way Caretaker flinches when Whumpee moves too quickly around them, only to hide it behind a guilty smile. The guilt Whumpee feels at the sight hurts most of all. 

It’s exhausting. Existing, suddenly, is overwhelmingly exhausting. They’re on edge like they’ve never been before, guilt and pain burning holes in their mind. 

Whumpee misses the quiet. They miss the peace helplessness provided, the safety from the anxiety they’re constantly faced with. It makes them sick, sends a nauseating wave of self loathing up their throat, and yet that feeling itself only makes the longing stronger. 

Nothing compares to it. No amount of sleeping medication desperately swallowed, no amount of weighted blankets, nothing can recreate that serenity. Whumper gave them a taste of true, pure peace, and now their mind cannot settle for anything less. 

Whumper isn’t surprised when, two weeks later, Whumpee crawls back to them like a sick dog. 

They look horrible. The deep eyebags carved into their eyes are darker than the bruises still littering their body. They’ve lost weight since Whumper last saw them. 

Whumpee looks exhausted. They look disgusted with themselves, a look of self loathing etched into their face. They look desperate. 

They look exactly like Whumper expected them to. Whumper knows their type very well. 

This time, Whumpee doesn’t flinch as Whumper calls their power. They don’t brace themselves for pain. 

This time, the last thing Whumpee does before being submerged is gasp out a sob of relief.

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

From

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Characters crying in their sleep. Bonus points if it's a character who never shows emotion. They would rather die than show vulnerability.

Does whumper find them, and mock them for it? Or is it caretaker, checking up on a nightmare-riddled or feverish whumpee in concern only to find them asleep, curled up in bed with tears gently running down their face, soft whimpers escaping their throat?

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Whumpee is taken captive, and during their captivity, they befriended Whumper. Playing games, listen to Whumper if they needed to vent, etc.

Whumper trusts them enough to give them privileges, like food, water... and eventually they allowed Whumpee to move freely.

That was Whumpee's plan all along, and they bolted, trying to escape.

BONUS: Whumper managed to recapture them, and decided to not only take away all of Whumpee's privileges, but to also make sure they never leave again by torturing them and restraining them.

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

Caretaker: Are you okay?

Whumpee: The stars are beautiful tonight.

Caretaker: You didn't answer the question.

Whumpee: I know. I didn't want to lie to you...

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

"hurt people hurt people" whump

Whumper desperately tries to break whumpee, while whumpee psychoanalyzes whumper, making whumper feel like their psyche is being vivisected, until whumper breaks down crying

[anonymous-whump-enjoyer]

"You don't have to feel this way anymore," the whumper cooed, holding the whumpee's head in their hands.

The whumpee whimpered softly, weakly struggling against their captor's grip, hands tied tightly behind their back.

"Tell me what I need to know," the whumper stroked their thumb across the whumpee's cheek, "I don't want to hurt you."

Tears trickled down the whumpee's face, "you... you're lying."

The whumpee stared back at them, eyes unblinking, "You're smart."