#Whumpee will never ask for help again

[letitbehurt]

Whumpee slips a note into a stranger’s palm, hoping they’ll understand the cry for help hastily scribbled on the scrap of paper.

But the stranger only smirks and hands the note to Whumper. “You should watch them a little closer.”

[digital-nova]

Post-captivity caretaking prompts

“I’m here to help you, it’s okay.”

“It’s different here. I promise.”

“You must be cold down there, bud. It’s much cosier on the sofa.”

“You deserve this.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“It’s me, Whumpee, you’re fine.”

“I know it’s frustrating, but recovery doesn’t happen overnight.”

“You’ll never be treated like that again. Not here.”

“See? This wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“What happened to you wasn’t normal.”

“You’re hungry? Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to ask.”

“Why would you think I’m taking you back?”

“You don’t need to do anything, Whumpee. I won’t make you work for basic needs.”

“It’s alright, just a nightmare. You’re safe, ok?”

“What do you mean punishment?”

[whumptember]

2024 Prompt List

ask box | rules | tags and posting

Main Prompts

1. "Don't leave me." chains | failed escape attempt | abandoned building

2. "I can't do this alone." dried blood | begging for help | caretaker's front door

3. "You're my last chance." rusted metal | enemies teaming up | returning home

4. "Don't make me go back." white knuckles | used as bait | ballroom

5. "You've hurt them for the last time." slamming door | rescue | whumper's basement

6. "I never want to see your face here again." torn mask | reluctant villain | hero's headquarters

7. "Let me take care of you!" damp rag | whumpee turned caretaker | bathroom

8. "You'll never see me again." packed bag | secrets revealed | doorway

9. "What did they do to you?" bloodied clothes | homecoming | hospital reunion

10. "I need your help." breaking voice | secret intentions | villain's base

11. "One last favor, then I"ll leave you alone." knife | sacrificing themself | sacred ground

12. "Why did you do it?" new gravestone | confronting whumper | cemetery

13. "I never looked back, and I regret it every day." cracked foundation | city in ruin | middle of the road

14. "You changed my life. not for the better. Now I get to return the favor." blindfold | payback | abandoned warehouse

15. "I'm never going to let you go." silk ribbon | intimate whumper | whumper's bed

16. "What happened to you?" new clothes | recapture | whumpee's old room

17. "This wasn't the deal!" torn contract | betrayed | in the middle of the woods

18. "You're never going to see them again." letter on whumpee's pillow | disappeared in the night | caretaker's apartment

19. "Take me instead!" cloth gag | caretaker turned whumpee | getaway car

20. "I'm always going to be with you." worn letter | mourning | caretaker's bed

21. "I'm not okay." bruised skin | begging for help | hero's doorstep

22. "We have to go back and save them! They'd do the same for us!" drag marks | taken hostage | battleground

23. "You're nothing without me." invisible restraints | hero whumper | basement

24. "Change my mind, tell me why I'm wrong and I'll turn back and undo everything I've done." split lip | hero in the wrong | edge of a roof

25. "Stop it! You're going to kill them!" blood spattered wall | ambush | villain's home

26. "Let them go." blindfold and gag | ransom demand | undisclosed location

27. "Don't forget about me, alright?" packed bag | leaving home | secret destination

28. "I was supposed to save the world." shackled ankles | accidental villain | jail cell

29. "You're a child, go home now and I won't come after you. But if you stay and fight, I won't hold back." hand-made mask | villain mentor | bank vault

30. "What did I say about breaking the rules?" ruler stick | young whumpee | on their knees

Alternate Prompts

1. "You lied to them." 2. Broken wrist 3. "I've done things I can't even think about anymore." 4. Whispered apology 5. "You're coming back, right?" 6. Curled into a ball 7. "You make me feel like I can forget all the bad things." 8. Chained to a car 9. "This is just the beginning." 10. Villain whumpee 11. "Oh, come on, you can take more than that!" 12. Begging 13. "Don't make me."

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Whumpee & His Collar part 2

Warnings: tight collar around Whumpee's neck, severely restricted breathing, mentions of beating and past torture & conditioning, panic attack and choking

The collar was tight around his neck, digging into his skin with every strained breath he took.

"Oh honey, I promised I wouldn't hurt you here, and I keep my promises," Caretaker tried to soothe. "Why don't you want the collar off?"

"What did I do wrong?" Whumpee choked out.

"What did you... do wrong?" Caretaker echoed, confused. "You did nothing wrong, Whumpee -- what gave you that impression?"

Whumpee pointed with a shaky finger to the collar around his neck. "Y-You were going to take it off, which means I did something horrific and need to be thoroughly punished for it." He couldn't understand why, but he saw Caretaker's eyes fill with sad tears.

"I... think I understand now. But you're not with Whumper anymore," Caretaker spoke softly. "New house, New rules, okay? You will never be hurt here. Not even with your collar off."

Whumpee found it hard to believe her words. His entire life revolved around this collar, it gave him a clear sense of direction and purpose. So that he would always know what to expect at any given time, depending on how tight it was strapped around his throat.

But Caretaker hadn't done anything with it in all the time since his rescue. So... maybe she was telling the truth...

Whumpee's chest was heaving with the effort to keep breathing by now, his mouth gaped open as he gasped and choked on sobs.

"Whumpee, please -- you're going to pass out if you keep it up. Please let me take it off. I promise I won't hurt you, and I will always love and care for you. Do you trust me?" Caretaker reached her hands out toward him, pausing a few inches away as though waiting for permission to make contact. Giving Whumpee a choice, to accept or deny her help.

Whumpee squeezed his eyes shut tight, terrified beyond belief, but forced himself to give a shallow nod. But he still reflexively flinched when he felt Caretaker's warm hands gently cup his face, a soothing and comforting presence.

"You're going to be okay, Whumpee, just breathe..."

Whumpee tried his absolute best to obey, he really did, to be good and perfect for her -- but it was just so difficult with the tight collar in place, his situation worsened by the panicked hyperventilating. He felt Caretaker's hands gently slide down from his jaw to his neck, carefully fiddling with the clasp keeping the collar on him.

The fear washed over him all over again, but he managed to hold still as Caretaker finally unbuckled the collar and took it off completely. Cold air hit the skin where the collar always rested for the first time in weeks, a sensation so unnatural and foreign to him.

Then there were strong arms around him, pulling him away from the wall he was curled up and cowering against and into a fierce hug.

“You're so brave, Whumpee, so so brave” Caretaker praised comfortingly, running a soothing hand through his hair in the way she knew he liked most.

Whumpee trembled like a fragile leaf in her arms with a whine, burying his face into her shoulder, and clinging to her desperately like a lifeline. It felt different to be able to properly breathe again, so strange after he'd gotten used to the calculated, measured breaths he'd take whenever the collar was on.

He gulped it down greedily, sucking in as much fresh air as he could with each deep breath. Caretaker was right, it felt so much better to have the torturous collar off.

“Y-You're not going to abandon me now that's it off, are you?” Whumpee asked quietly, his voice wobbly and uncertain.

“Never, Whumpee, never,” Caretaker answered firmly. There was no hesitation whatsoever in her tone, and Whumpee wanted to cry again – in gratitude this time instead of fear.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Caretaker,” Whumpee mumbled into her shoulder.

“Always,” Caretaker whispered into his ear. An eternal promise, one that she would forever keep.

⏪️ Back

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[whumpster-dumpster]

I'm a sucker for unassociated Good Samaritans who are willing to risk it for Whumpee even though they're a stranger. Showing the kindness to help simply because they can tell Whumpee has no one else. Even if they patch them up, send them off and hope for the best, never seeing them again -- or even if they end up facing a whumper who comes looking and asking questions and have to feign ignorance or stand up defiantly for a victim they barely know

[whumporama]

Whumpee never truly fit in with the team. Sure, they are part of it, but they're never part of the conversation, they're around for it. They have to make sure to eat quickly, because nobody will wait if they are last. They get noticed when they slack, but not when they're doing good. Nobody asks them if they're okay after missions, nobody shares a room with Whumpee. They're part of the team, but they're not part of the team.

But then they go through something awful, and when they get out and back with the team, the team takes care of them. They get the help they need. Whumpee doesn't often get to be the one in the center of attention, so it's a bit weird, but not unpleasant.

Within days, Whumpee is forcing themselves to do things again, because the team stopped doing them. And that makes sense, really, they can do it, so why shouldn't they? They like doing things on their own.

But then, weeks later, another team member gets hurt, and Whumpee sees how differently they're being treated. They also get help, but people ask if they're okay, and if they need anything. They stay up with them to make sure they're okay, make sure they're never out of anything.

They... never did any of that for Whumpee. Even when teammember is back on their feet, people still help them out, not in an overwhelming sense, but just showing that they're there for them.

And Whumpee suddenly realizes again, ah, right. That's where I stand in the team.

How silly of them to think they were equally valued.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

ROMANTIC WHUMPEE X WHUMPER DIALOGUE PROMPTS

trigger warnings: NSFW, violence, abuse, rape, power imbalance (everything in here is entirely fictional meant to serve as ideas for writers. I do not condone any of these in real life in any way, also I'm titling the post 'romantic prompts' due to the characters' romantic relationship, not because the prompts are supposed to be 'romantic or cute')

❝it's cute you think they can hurt you like I do.❞

❝you're not leaving me, and if I can't make you stay by words, I'm gonna do it by force.❞

❝are you gonna kill me like you killed those people?❞

❝you're gonna bleed to death if you don't let me help you. I am not asking. stop fucking squirming.❞

❝do I have to chain you up?❞

❝you like that, huh? being fucked on the floor by a sworn enemy and not being able to do anything about it.❞

❝friendly reminder, I own you.❞

❝you're only alive because I let you. don't forget that I could change my mind any second.❞

❝don't think I won't fuck you like an animal right here in front of everybody.❞

❝scream all you want. no one's coming, and I do like hearing you cry.❞

❝is this the only reason you're keeping me alive? because you want to break me more? come on, we both know you can't live without me.❞

❝make any noise and I'll slit your throat.❞

❝no, I had a chance to escape you. I didn't. you've made me love you, and for that, fuck you.❞

❝I hate that I could never hate you.❞

❝this is not a home. it's a prison.❞

❝if I'm ever going to die, and want it to be by your hands.❞

❝I need you to fucking look me in the eyes and say you won't run away again.❞

❝you're not safe with me. I'm scared of what I might do to you if I let the demons win, and I'm scared one of these days they're gonna win.❞

❝I am the only person who can hurt you.❞

❝I won't chase after you, because I know you'll come crawling back to me, you always do.❞

❝I fantasize about my hands around your throat, looking you in the eyes as I twist the knife.❞

❝I know you wish you could kill me and I know you wish you could hate me. but I'm the only person who understands you and I know you need me.❞

❝my only mistake was falling in love with you.❞

❝has anyone ever told you how pretty you are when you cry?❞

❝you can't kill me. I'm already dead.❞

❝you've had that chain around my throat since the day we first met.❞

❝it'll hurt less if you stay still.❞

[lumpywhump]

Tw: mention of past abuse

something at will always hit me like a bat is when the super happy sunshine character has a horrible whumpy past! Whumpee began smiling when they saw their friend. "Hey dude! What's on the agenda for today?"

"We only have one guy to interrogate," A explained as they glanced at their clipboard. "Everyone is already inside."

A led whumpee through the rows of cells. They tried not to look at the people inside. They tended to ignore anything that could dampen their smile. Whumpee's eyes were drawn to the cell their friends surrounded.

"Who's..." whumpee froze as they saw the figure in the cell. It was all too familiar.

Leader didn't notice whumpee stiffen. "Our guy today is Whumper LastName. Accused of multiple accounts of kidnapping, torture, abuse... all kinds of stuff like that. Boss wants us to get locations. They think there could still be more captives." They turned to whumpee, unsettled by their silence. "Whumpee, what's up?"

whumpee realized they had been staring at whumper. "Nothing!" They smiled at leader.

"wait,"

Whumpee jumped at the sound of whumpee's voice.

"Whumpee? As in Whumpee LastName?" They chuckled.

"whumpee? Do you know this guy?" B asked.

"no?" Whumpee laughed, clearly over compensating. "I've never seen this dude before,"

"Are you sure? That would actually be really helpful for this case," Leader offered.

"nope! I've never met someone named whumper,"

"Come on now whumpee," whumper rose from the bed they were sitting on. "You can't forget this face. I certainly can remember your screams well,"

"Whumpee? What are they talking about?"

"nothing! Just them trying to mess with us. Don't listen to them." Whumpee looked around for something to distract everyone with.

"whumpee, you're shaking," B reached out to touch whumpee's should but they flinched and jumped away.

Oh god. Everything they've worked for. They've perfectly crafted this personality, and now whumper is going to destroy their life a second time.

"I used to know whumpee really well. I always wondered what happened to them after they escaped." Whumper smiled, as if thinking of a fond memory. (which wasn't too far from the truth) "I remember how well whumpee took whumper 2's beatings. I particularly liked their screams when I whipped them."

"Shut up!" Whumpee yelled. They hadn't noticed the tears falling down their face.

"Oh! How's whumpee 2?"

"You disgusting bastard! You killed them and you know it. How!? How is someone so sick and twisted as you?!" Whumpee stopped and looked at their friends and regretted it. They stood with shocked and worried faces. Fuck, whumpee really fucked everything up again.

[justbreakonme]

Birthdays in Whump Stories

-of course, the Whumpee who’s never had a birthday party. The cake, the gifts, just the idea that someone, anyone, was happy that they existed is enough to bring them to tears.

-Whumpee who doesn’t know how old they are, just a general guess, and of course their birthday is even more of a mystery, so they celebrate something else instead as a “birthday”. The day they escaped Whumper, the day they met Caretaker, the day they felt reborn or like they’d become who they should be.

-Whumpee who dreads their birthday because Whumper taunts them for it, torturing them in increments equal to their age or mockeries of birthday traditions like poisoned cake or painful party games.

-Whumpee who’d not celebrated in years because it didn’t feel safe to. It felt like anything good in their life always got taken away, so they avoid any kind of celebration or excitement, but when a small trinket or treat is pressed into their hand, a smile and a whispered “Happy Birthday” from a friend, they can’t help the rush of warmth from it.

-Caretaker feeling hollow as Whumpees birthday passed by and they were still missing. They still keep a box of cake mix in the pantry, just in case, hoping that this might be the day that Whumpee is found.

-Whumpee surprising Caretaker for their birthday! Especially if Caretaker is always so focused on Whumpee that they forgot their own birthday, or Whumpee had previously been too scared to do anything other than obey orders. So not only is it an act of love, it’s an act of healing and growth.

-Whumper offering Whumpee an “olive branch” on their birthday, especially if they’re more of the obsessive/intimate Whumpers. Feeding Whumpee cake off of their fork and gifting them trinkets and treats that are obviously more for Whumpers benefit than theirs.

-Whumpee celebrating their birthday alone after escaping Whumper, blowing out a single candle stuck through a store bought little treat, and trying to keep their head up. The idea of living another year is bitter and complicated, but they have to keep their head up, they have to. They didn’t struggle so hard to give up now.

-Whumpee forcing Whumpee to throw them a birthday party. Whumpee terrified of not meeting their very high standards, stringing up streamers with shaking hands and trying to bake a cake without burning themselves or it but every time there’s a moment of stillness, their mind is gone again.

-Whumper using a birthday invitation to kidnap Whumpee, luring them to a different location and abducting them.

-Caretaker finding that Whumpee had written in Whumpers birthday on their shared calendar, and debating taking it off or asking about it.

-Whumpee being given a birthday wish by Whumper and using it to call Caretaker, to tell them they loved them. Maybe that’s all they’re able to do, or maybe Caretaker is able to use the clues in the call to find them. Maybe Whumpee is willing to risk the punishment they’ll get to tell Caretaker a clue that only they would understand.

-Whumpee being given as a birthday gift from one Whumper to another, and the new Whumper being horrified at the previous treatment they received and becoming more of a Carewhumper.

-Or! Whumpee being given as a birthday gift to Caretaker, who has to play along in front of people but behind closed doors, cares for and protects Whumpee as much as they can. Whumpees confusion between the two versions of Caretaker and how to behave, how to feel.

Just, endless possibilities.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Slow Cooked

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, torture, burns, body horror / gore, isolation, touch starvation, rescue, caretaking

just some whump that wouldn't leave my head. i'm on an AU kick. 2 pieces in a day!! woo!!! also posted a catharsis chapter earlier :D

-

It was day one-thousand one-hundred and thirty-three since they’d left Kane in the sun.

Unlike in his cell, it was easy to count the days out here. Impossible not to, unless he lost count amid the endless pain. He couldn’t see, hadn’t opened his eyes in years, but fire licked at his toes once more, slowly working its way up.

Kane did not scream. The last time he’d screamed, a hunter had wrapped a cord around his throat and threatened to leave it there forever if he made another sound, leaving his lungs perpetually empty. That was day 14.

He had air. As his already burnt-beyond-recognition body lit up once more under the unforgiving heat of the sun, Kane reminded himself he could breathe. It was the only thing he had left.

It hurt. It hurt, hurt, hurt, always. There was no end to it, not even at night, when his wholly maimed form was given far too little time to even start to heal. There was only agony at night and more agony in the day.

He missed his cell. He would do anything to go back to his cell, in the blessed dark.

The morning sun rose enough to reach his face, his entire body once again swallowed as he burned alive.

Please. Please make it stop. Please, somebody help me! I’ll do anything. I just need it to stop. Mercy.

Every day, the same wish, unanswered. Kane was left to his unbearable existence, forgotten.

-

Somebody touched him. It was the first time Kane had been touched in over three years.

It was a light touch, just the graze of what he thought to be a hand to his jawline. Not enough to make it hurt more than it already did. Whoever it was said something, but he couldn’t make it out. Melted flesh had filled his ears for quite some time.

Kane did not move. He didn’t think he was capable of moving, anymore. But he had to do something. Maybe if he did, they’d let him inside, just for a little. Just for a few days. He would do anything to be allowed inside for a few days, even if they tortured him.

Please, I need help, please help me! Make it stop!

A small, raspy whine escaped the back of his throat, muffled further by his sealed-shut lips. It was all he could manage.

The hand retreated.

If Kane was capable of crying, he would. If Kane’s tear ducts hadn’t melted away under the sun years ago, he’d never have stopped.

Please. Please. Somebody. Help me.

His heart cried out, yearning for the touch to return. Even if they never helped, even if they hurt him. He just needed to feel for one moment like he wasn’t alone.

He keened again, a quiet thing, though he tried. Wordless begging to not be left.

The hand returned to his cheek, and he quieted once more. If the agony never stopped, at least he had this. The ability to breathe, and one gentle touch.

Without warning, something pierced his chest, and his cursed consciousness was blissfully lost.

-

Kane did not wake outside.

His arms and legs were no longer spread into the corners of the board, ensuring every vulnerable inch of his front was exposed to the sun. The board no longer touched his back, in fact. Instead, he laid on something soft. The sun did not shine.

Either it was nighttime, or he’d been allowed inside.

It was almost unthinkable that he’d be allowed to rest on something soft and let inside. Surely, it had to be nighttime.

Despite his relative freedom–he could still feel a shackle on one ankle, not silver, but nothing else–he was far too mangled to move around. He simply laid there, trying to bask in the wonder of the soft thing.

“Kane?” a voice asked, hours later. He could hear it, he realized. His ears were cleared.

He knew that voice. That was the human’s voice. Jim’s voice.

The fragile hope that he might be allowed to remain on the soft thing vanished.

“Are you awake?” Jim asked. “I saw you… twitching and stuff.”

He would cry if he could. He was crying, he realized, tears falling down his burnt-up cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t be scared. I mean, that’s–that’s a tall order, yeah. You’re not going out there again. You’re gonna be okay.”

That gentle hand returned, to his hair this time. There wasn’t much of it left, he was reasonably sure. Jim stroked what was there, his touch feather-light, like he was afraid Kane would break into pieces.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. It’s over,” Jim promised. His voice shook like he might be crying, too.

Kane wanted to believe it so, so badly. It was everything he’d ever wanted, for someone to help. Finally, finally, for the pain to end. It hadn’t even ended yet, his body was a horrific mess of seared skin, but it had been promised. No one had ever promised to help before.

He couldn’t be dreaming. It never hurt this badly in dreams, his only refuge.

“Can you open your mouth?” Jim prompted.

No. He couldn’t. He tried, just to prove it, and…

His lips popped open, revealing a perfectly-preserved, unburnt mouth.

How long had he been out? Days? Had he not been touched by the sun for days?

“You’re doing great,” Jim encouraged. “I know you’re hurting pretty bad right now. So, um, I just…”

“Here, I’ve got it.” A different voice, female, unfamiliar. Before Kane could even worry about who she was, a lid opened with a pop, and the smell of blood filled the air.

Kane did manage more than a whine, then. A desperate howl of need.

The blood poured into his mouth, cold and refreshing and salty and sweet. There was so much of it. He drank and drank and drank until there was no more. He was actually sated for once.

“That’ll help him heal faster?” Jim asked.

“Yeah. Should do the trick.”

“...Do you think he’ll be mad at me?”

Mad? How could he possibly be mad? Jim took him away from the sun. Jim let him inside. Jim gave him blood. He was going to be allowed to heal!

“I think he’ll just be happy to be out of the sun,” the other voiced his thoughts.

There was a creak on the soft thing–a bed? A couch?--as someone sat next to him. “Three years ago, the hunters told me they had you,” Jim said.

Three years. That was the end of it, then? Kane had paid his price, he wouldn’t have to do it anymore? It felt too good to be true.

“I told them to kill you,” he continued. “I was scared. I thought you would be like… before. I thought you would come after me. I didn’t know what they were doing, and they told me they’d done it. I thought you were dead. I never wanted you to suffer, not like this.”

Did that mean no more? It was truly over?

“No m-more?” Kane rasped out, his voice struggling to find itself after so long.

“No more.” That gentle touch returned to his hair, and for the first time in years, there was hope.

-

taglist in reblogs

[caledine]

Types of whumpees in a team

( This is just a few, lmk if you can think of more c:<)

Youngest teammate Whumpee

You get your reckless and brash whumpees who’d who’d do anything to prove themselves

Unknowledgeable new to the field

“ I can do it, on my own.”

Angry and defiant till their hurt

Trying to act tough but just people pleasers

Being left behind for ‘safety’ and probably the easiest to break

“ it’s for your own good Whumpee. It’s not safe out there.” queue them getting captured from said place that’s deemed safe

Stupid plans?? Youngest learns just how bad not thinking things through results in

Doing things due to pure peer pressure

A go to hostage since team would fight tooth and nail to get them back (?)

Always doing busywork and never on the field

“ I have done everything from making coffee to doing your laundry— How is this hero work? “

Being deemed not strong enough

Medic/ Doctor whumpees

Either stoic or overly doting

Exhausted from caring to much

Just exhaustion whump in general !!

Always the caretaker and never taken care of

Full ER / too many patients

Natural disaster or a horrible fight leaving them swamped with injured teammates ( maybe they’re hurt too)

“ I know everyone’s hurt— hold on i need a second…”

Getting hurt and knowing just how doomed they are

Using all the good supplies on the team and leaving themselves with ‘alternatives’

Trying to talk other members through healing themself, knowing if they faint they are as good as dead

Does your Medic snap?

“ How many times have i told you to be more careful?! every single time your in my office you’ve brushed death again—“ ( Angry or worried?)

Stitching themself up because they think they have the knowledge to keep themselves healthy too ( knowledge ≠ strength to save themselves )

Second in command/ Right hand ( Could be a sidekick?) Whumpee

A glorified PA juggling all the ‘less important’ tasks or running errands

Never getting the authority / leadership they want over the team

Always picking up everyone else’s slack

Paperwork and all the busywork and never getting the full credit

Sometimes people are too tired to be nice

Snappy, defiant and never backing down

Always trying to one up other team members or get recognition or affirmation because they never seem to get credit

Stuck in Leader’s shadow

The moment Leader is out everyone expects them to know what to do

“ I don’t know— Leader never let me have any say-?”

Loyal beyond fault ( too much so) maybe they let people be dicks just because they’re teammates

Too forgiving

Maybe Leader sticks the blame on them for failed missions

the perfect stoic whumpee 🌟

Leader Whumpee

Exhaustion, overworking, passing out , thugging through sickness — Leaders normally the one who checks in on people, but who checks in on them?

Putting themselves last

Guilt of failed missions, maybe blame from other teammates

Trying to guide the team while injured ( concussions 😌)

Never really being part of the team just there to keep themselves healthy too in check

Breaking under pressure

Survivors guilt

Being replaced

Leader being held hostage because the team would be in shambles without them

Humiliation— make the team stop believing in them

Self sacrifice

“ I’m sorry i know it’s my responsibility…”

Struggling to ask for help because they’re scared the team won’t come to them

Their life revolves around keeping their team safe, too selfless

The team just expecting them to know what to do

Trying to juggle looking after the team with Hero work

Doing all the chores, being expected to do the most and be selfless

Their higher ups see their overworking as a good thing and feed into it

Everyone just always assumes they’re fine because pfftt they’re Leader of course they’re fine!!

Stoic but pathetic ejenkeosos

Sighhh i just adore team whump. I could always go on about this because the amount of possibilities are near endless. Give me complex relationships between characters!! Make your whumpees suffer while no one around them bats an eye, toxic team dynamics suck but the whump around them… Found family but make it hurt comfort!!

[yet-another-heathen]

Wick's Whump Drive - I

This is a commissioned piece for @light-me-on-pyre, who was kind enough to participate in my ongoing whump drive for Palestinian aid.

Want in? Donate $5/€5 or more to ANY Palestinian fundraiser, send me the receipt, and I'll write a custom whump drabble for you, too.

Prompt: "How would you write deconditioning?"

[ My lessons on how to write realistic conditioning can be found here. ]

---

TW | realistic whump recovery, emotional whump, brief argument, PTSD, flashbacks, intentional deconditioning attempt, implied past character death (whumper)

It wasn't the word itself this time. It was the way Caretaker said it.

"Kneel."

Whumpee went down hard. The mental cursing began when his knees were about two inches from hitting the ground. Too late to stop the movement. Plenty of time to hate himself for following through.

Where his knees hit, the jarring spike of stacking bruises felt like a punch. Failure.

Another. Fucking. Failure.

Whumpee groaned in frustration, hands balling in his hair. Then he was on his feet again, pacing. "Again."

"Whumpee, I think we've had enough for toni—"

"No! No, I need to try again! I have to get this right just once before I stop." He turned again on his heel, leaving another path in the carpet. "We keep going. I just— I just need to keep going."

Caretaker raised an eyebrow, not moving from where he knelt. With that endless patience that was beginning to grate on Whumpee's nerves, "...we have been at this for an hour. Your nerves are getting more and more frayed by the minute. You said yourself that this works best when you're calm."

"And what if I'm wrong?" Whumpee whirled around on him, tears in his eyes. "I keep failing. I've barely managed to stop myself three times this whole week. Out of what? Four dozen attempts? Five? Every time I quit I end up backsliding more and more. I can't keep giving up. This has to work."

"It will be easier—"

"Are you going to say it or not? You said you would help me!"

Caretaker looked taken aback. And just as quickly, his expression shuttered.

"What do you think I've been doing for the last hour?" he asked. "Don't forget— I still get to say 'no', too."

The reminder hit like a slap. Not because Caretaker was wrong. Because he was right.

It had taken everything Whumpee had just to keep making it through the practice sessions. With how bad things had gotten, he barely had the capacity to take care of himself right now. Let alone worry any of the people around him.

Was that how he'd been acting? Was that what Whumpee was denying him? Even the choice to be a part of this?

After standing there for another far too long moment, Whumpee let out a sigh and came back over to Caretaker. He slipped to the floor beside him, folding his knees up to his chest, back pressed to the couch.

Quieter, rougher, "...Yeah. Yeah, you do." He couldn't bring himself to look at him. "I'm sorry."

Although Caretaker didn't say anything, Whumpee could see the moment the tension in his shoulders let go. The fight passed over them like a distant shadow.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," Whumpee murmured. He wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on his forearms. "Between the nightmares and the memories... I'm just... I'm so tired." Quieter still, "I can't seem to get that monster out of my head."

"You've not been sleeping." It wasn't a question.

"...I've been trying to. I really have. But I end up just laying there, thinking the same five thoughts on repeat, over and over and over. Things haven't been this bad since—"

A flash of bright light. Wrists rubbed raw. Whumpee was doubled over, arms wrapped around himself. Screaming himself raw with a flood of relief and despair and a hundred other emotions that he could never admit aloud. Blood spreading on the cement floor. Blood that finally, finally wasn't his own.

Whumpee flinched, twisting his face away from the sight. As if this was something he could just look away from. As if the memories weren't printed into his retinas like the afterimage of lightning.

He took a few slow, steadying breaths, shaking on every exhale. Clenched his trembling hands, open and closed. Open and closed. Eventually he managed a raspy, "...since before."

Caretaker watched, worried. But he knew better than to reach for Whumpee without asking first.

"Whumpee... you've been butting up against this same block for weeks now. I've watched you try everything except the most obvious thing there is. You need to rest." Whumpee opened his mouth to say something, but Caretaker cut him off before he could argue. "—I'm not telling you to quit. I know why you can't, and I would never ask it of you. But there's a difference between giving up, and taking enough time to catch your breath before the next sprint."

Whumpee averted his eyes again, throat working against the burn of building tears. But he was listening.

Softer, "You said this was something you'd be working on for the rest of your life. If that's true, then there's time. For just a few days... give yourself some of the softness you went so long without. Take enough time to be gentle with the man you're trying so hard to save."

The words had hit their mark. He watched as Whumpee's face crumpled. His breath hitched once, and he broke into a sob. Then Whumpee finally reached out for him, and Caretaker didn't hesitate to pull him into hug.

He buried his face against Caretaker's chest, everything he'd been holding back falling apart at once. Pain. Despair. Hope. Grief. All of it came pouring out with his voice.

"There. I've got you," Caretaker murmured, closing his eyes. Exhausted, but relieved that something had finally gotten through. "...I've got you."

[macknus]

Febuwhump: Day Three

Prompt: Pinned Down

Febuwhump Masterpost

Whumpee ran. Sprinted through Whumper’s camp, feeling the cold, packed damp earth slapping beneath his feet was disgustingly wonderful. A feeling he didn’t think he’d ever miss, no… but here he was, breathless from the run, already exhausted from weeks of being captured and subdued, beaten and grounded and starved. His lungs screamed at him to stop, his muscles clenching as if he was ten sets into a workout, but Whumpee continued running.

A small crazed smile on his lips as he felt the wind on his face, rushing through his damp hair that Whumper kept tied back. The first thing Whumpee did when he got free was take that blasted bobbin from his hair and let his shoulder length raven birds nest free. He felt… oh gods, he felt alive.

He cleared the camp paths, rushing out of the alleyways packed with tents like buildings on either side and when he emerged onto the field that their camp was on he finally— after weeks that felt like years, stretched his white, feathered wings and continued to run.

Damn the ache in his back from spreading them.

Damn the stiffness of his limbs as he stretched them out to their full wingspan. He felt whole again now that they were no longer chained to his back at awkward angles.

He swallowed the cheers, the hollers, the whoops that threatened to spill out of his mouth from the relief, but he wasn’t out for the woods yet. He still had to clear Whumper’s camp before he risked making any more noise than is necessary.

He beat his wings after the stiffness faded to mere pins and needles. He was skinner than before, even if they were a little out of practice, they would hold him in the skies until he was free. They had never failed him before. And with the cool night air on his cheeks, the sable night sky calling to him, the stars winking, beckoning him to the heavens, Whumpee beat his wings, once, twice, then he was up.

He faltered a bit as he tried to steady himself in the air, a single, breath denying moment of a stumble as he fell through the air. But his wings caught and he wasn’t out for flying— he was—

He was FLYING!

He didn’t care as hot tears rolled down his cheeks, whipped away by the wind as he soared high above his prison, Whumper’s vile camp.

He was— he was actually going to be free…

And then he flew straight into a wall. Whumpee blinked, stunned as his body slammed against it— but it was just open air. Open sky.

“No,” he muttered, slamming his hand against it and a ripple whirled against the invisible barrier. The same barriers that Whumper’s sadistic Right Hand could weave. “No! No, NO!”

He pushed and clawed against the barrier and glanced up. He tried to fly above its edge, the impenetrable wall meeting a ceiling and he cursed.

“No! No! No! Come on,” he cried, pushing with all his strength against the barrier. There had to be a weak spot. There had to be.

“Do you know what the real kicker is?” A cold voice asked from below. Whumpee froze physically, while his insides raged against a storm. His heartbeat hammered against his chest, sweat forming on his brow, his chest, his back from the exertion. Whumpee trembled as he tilted his head down to see Whumper directly below him. Whumper met Whumpee’s gaze with a cruel smile as he stepped past the barrier that kept Whumpee trapped within the confines of the camp. “It only works on you, darling. It helps to keep your pesky friends out, and your defiant, ungrateful self in. Exactly how I want you.”

Whumpee snarled. “I’m not coming down. I’m not letting you chain me up again.”

Whumper stepped back into the barrier, all humour gone from his sharp, angular face, but his eyes glinted with a dark promise. “Good thing I don’t need your permission then, isn’t it?”

With a click of his fingers a spear appeared in his hand and Whumpee paled. Whumper tossed the spear in his hand, getting the weight of it in his fingers as he assessed Whumpee above.

“You can either come down here, now, or I’ll bring you down, boy.”

Whumpee glanced around the camp, but there was nobody else out of bed. Only Whumper. He could fly to the opposite end, avoid his attacks and then what? He couldn’t leave! Spelled to remain—

Before Whumpee could finish the thought he felt the whistle of the spear through the air and he rolled, barely dodging the blow in time. The spear ran straight through the barrier like a mocking taunt, but Whumpee couldn’t focus on that as Whumper summoned another spear into his hand.

“This one won’t miss. One last chance, Whumpee,” Whumper sang. His voice like gravel, echoing shards of ice through Whumpee’s ears and sending shivers down his spine. Whumpee knew how good Whumper’s aim was, and he didn’t want his wings to be speared which is exactly what Whumper would do.

Whumpee hung his head, wings beating against the air to keep him up. “Okay,” he said, hands balling into fists at his sides. “Okay,” he said again and let the air catch his wings as he descended.

It was pathetic really. Whumpee had a chance at freedom, at escape, and all it took for his defiance to smoulder was Whumper. Not an army. Not an onslaught of Whumper’s bloodthirsty soldiers, just… just him. With a spear.

Whumpee’s feet had barely touched the ground before Whumper tackled him to the ground. Whumpee’s head hit off the barrier with an oomph as his shoulders took the brunt of the blow to the cold, hard earth below.

Whumper straddled Whumpee’s waist, a cold smile on his thin lips. “You know how much I love your wings, Whumpee,” Whumper cooed, running his fingers over the feathers that made Whumpee squirm. He didn’t want the sensitive spots to be touched, especially by Whumper. That was something that he and his mate would share if he— if he ever got out of here.

But Whumper knew that. Knew how intimate a gesture touching Whumpee’s wings was and did it anyway.

“Which is why I’m so proud you didn’t make me put a hole through them,” he continued, touching an especially sensitive spot that made Whumpee whimper under Whumper. “But you still need to be punished. Right Hand suggested I clip your wings.”

Whumpee’s eyes went wide through his terror, shaking his head as Whumper smiled down his horrible smile at Whumpee. “Don’t worry, darling, I told her I won’t do that. I want you to still be able to fly… but your punishment remains.”

Whumper grabbed Whumpee’s wrist and yanked his hand down until it was parallel to the ground. Whumpee struggled, trying to pull against Whumper’s strength, but his grip was strong, sure. Fed. Whumper wasn’t starved like Whumpee. Whumpee’s resistance was futile and they both knew it.

“Now, since your hands are the actual offenders, getting you out of your chains, I think this will be a fitting punishment.”

Whumper didn’t wait a beat before slamming the spear through Whumpee’s palm and burying it into the ground below. Whumpee screamed and thrashed under Whumper, begging, pleading for him to take it out, take it out, I’m sorry.

Whumper clicked his fingers and another spear appeared. Whumpee kicked and tried to worm his way out from under Whumper but every small movement aggravated his impaled hand and he cried out.

“You got cooped up, little bird, it’s okay,” Whumper cooed. “You wanted to be outside, you should’ve just asked, boy.”

Whumper grabbed Whumpee’s free hand. “No! No! Please, Whumper! Please!”

“See? With those manners, I’d give you anything, darling.”

Then he impaled Whumpee’s other palm into the ground, effectively pinning him to ground, arms stretched out wide to his sides. Whumpee screamed as fire raced through his blood, no longer struggling but every breath, every tremor threatened to move his limbs and he wanted to be sick. The stench of dirt and cold and metal from his blood filled his senses which roared like a beast inside him.

Whumper’s smile dropped from his face as he stared down at Whumpee. He stroked a hand down Whumpee’s wing and Whumpee couldn’t stop the knee jerk reaction that tore against his hand and he screamed again.

“Now boy, you’re outside. Just as you wanted. A nice night below the stars might do you some good.”

Whumpee trembled as Whumper’s heat pulled away from him as the bastard stood. His mind only processing Whumper’s words after he walked towards the streets line with tents.

“Wait! You- you can’t leave me here!” Whumpee yelled after him, panic seizing his throat. “Whumper!”

Whumper didn’t answer, just kept walking further and further away. “Whumper! WHUMPER!”

“WHUMPER!”

There was no response. Whumpee stared up at the stars winking down at him, beckoning him to the sky and he sobbed.

[whumplump]

this is something I wrote two months ago but never posted

Content: sick whump, vomiting, fever, shivering

Whumpee took three painful heaves before that thick, gross liquid made its way out of his mouth again. Caretaker held their friend's hair during the painful process. The sound of Whumpee's throat expelling the viscous liquid mixed with the sound of the storm raging mercilessly outside.

After a few seconds, Whumpee had stopped vomiting, but was still hunched over. Slowly, Caretaker helped him to his feet and walked him down the hall back to his room. Whumpee's legs appeared to be made of thin, weak wooden sticks. His body swayed unbalanced with each step.

Caretaker laid their friend on the bed and put their hand on his forehead. It was hotter than hell! But despite the surreally high temperature, Whumpee felt cold; he rubbed his hands on his arms, trying to produce heat. Caretaker covered him with the blanket and asked him not to move, but Whumpee seemed unable to hear anything. He was shaking from head to toe. Caretaker ran down the stairs to get to the phone. They needed help.

Caretaker dialed the emergency number several times, becoming more distressed after every second they held the phone to their ear without receiving an answer. They slammed the phone against the wall, letting out a frustrated huff. They ran back to the room. Whumpee was still in bed, and was still shaking, but he no longer made the gesture of trying to keep warm. Caretaker brought their face closer to Whumpee's face and saw that their friend's eyes were unfocused, and his skin was pale, slightly bluish. Whumpee tried to say something, but he stuttered, interrupted by the chattering of his teeth.

“Caretaker…” they managed. “Cold…”

The caregiver spread another blanket over Whumpee's shivering body, but it seemed to have no effect. Caretaker buried their head in Whumpee's chest and began to cry violently. They were frustrated at not being able to take care of their friend. They shook their head multiple times, as if they couldn't believe this was happening and that they couldn't do anything about it.

[sir-fenris]

Whumpcember24 - Day 3

Begging

(Drabbles' masterlist)

Content: experiment whumpee, resigned whumpee, intimate/sadistic whumper, begging, hand-feeding, implied torture, leg injury, threat of mutilation, starvation.

The first time Whumpee was thrown in the dungeon cell, they thought pain would be the worst, consistent problem. And well... it was, indeed, consistent and distressing.

But somehow boredom was worse.

Because boredom led to overthinking.

Could they have done something to stop the last session's pain sooner? When will be the next one? Will they be allowed water and food? How many days has passed? Is this consistent pain in the leg normal after being stabbed? Is the lethargy and apathy because of tiredness, or were they going insane?

And slowly, there was so much nothing going on beyond the pain, that their mind had to come up with new questions to fill their "free" time.

Like; how many steps there were between the bars and the wall? What's the highest number they can count to before a new session? How long can they keep their eyes open? How much can they move before jostling an injury too badly?

Any question and thought until the cell door opens.

When torture starts, they hope for it to end.

When torture ends, they hope for it to begin again just to take them out of this endless overthinking.

... And to give them a chance to eat. Because that only happened when Whumper was in a good mood and wanted to play, instead of study torture methods.

"Look who's up early today!" Speaking of the devil...

Whumpee raises their eyes tiredly, barely seeing Whumper clearly anymore, their eyesight is getting worse each day. They don't say anything, they don't need to.

"I was thinking of trying out glossectomy today, but I'm reconsidering..." Whumper muses, walking in the cell with a black bottle in hands.

Whumpee hated when Whumper used their weird-ass words. It meant usually some type of surgery or medical thing, by Whumpee's experience, and it always had the immense potential to be an excruciating experience.

At their tiredly confused expression, Whumper grins gleefully and explains, after crouching down. "Tongue removal, little bird."

Their blood goes cold. Whumper has never chopped off a part of their body. No matter how far they went, Whumpee knew Whumper would at least keep them whole by the end of it, why must it change now-

With a chilling chuckle, Whumper opens the black bottle, and the smell of fruit cuts off Whumpee's thinking.

"Now, now, don't lose yourself just yet. I told you, I'm reconsidering," Whumpee says. "I do love you singing for me, little bird... So I'll give you a chance to prove that I'm better off leaving your tongue where it is. And, if you're good enough, you can have a tasty smoothie, hm?"

The pause sent Whumpee in a frenzy to find out what was the right thing to say, which clues they had in hands to guess what Whumper wanted to hear.

'I do love you singing for me...'

"Please..." Whumpee whispers, lowering their eyes to the ground when Whumper grin grows. "Can I please eat?"

A hooked finger presses their chin upwards, forcing them to meet Whumper's gaze. "You can do better, little bird. Let me help."

Pain burns through their body as Whumper uses their other hand's nails to dig into Whumpee's leg injury. They try to curl into themselves with a stifled wail, but Whumper's hooked fingers turns into a whole-hand grip on their jaw, keeping Whumpee's gaze on Whumper's eyes only.

"P-Ple- Ah! Please, please, c-can I eat?" Tears burn their eyes when Whumper just digs their nails further, still with that vile grin. "Please, I'm begging you, I'm so hungry, please let me eat, please, please-"

Their words are interrupted by a choked gasp as Whumper retrieves both their hands to clap. "There we go, that's better."

Whumpee breaths shakily, closing their eyes to urge the pained tears away.

"Your singing is too pretty for me to cut off your tongue, little bird. Aren't you glad I've changed my mind?" Whumper asks cheerfully, putting a straw on the smoothie bottle.

"... Yes, thank you," Whumpee whispers. At least today's game was easy and fast. It's the easiest food they got in a long while.

"Good song bird. Now, say 'ah' for me."

Whumpee's eyebrows twitched at the straw being tapped against their lips, because their hands were fine, they didn't need nor want Whumper to feed them.

But this was the easiest food they got in a long while. They can't lose the opportunity of easy, tasty nutrition because of pride.

And when the delicious, cold and fresh smoothie reaches their kept tongue, Whumpee forgot why they had even hesitated.

There is no space for pride in survival.

-

(Kinda late, but stills counts as day 3, right? Shhh, for me, it does.)

-

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Whumpee & His Collar part 1

Warnings: tight collar around Whumpee's neck, severely restricted breathing, mentions of beating and past torture & conditioning, panic attack and choking

Finally got around to writing the story from THIS ask I received awhile ago (sorry Anon that it took so long!)

Whumpee had messed up. He had seriously messed up. But the problem was, he had no idea how. Everything had been going so well -- Caretaker was much nicer to him than Whumper ever was, helping him slowly heal and become more confident as a person.

But today, Caretaker tried to take off his collar. The leather collar wrapped tight around his neck that only barely gave him enough room to breathe.

When Caretaker had asked if she could touch his collar, he hadn't realized she meant take it off. Taking it off always meant horrific agony awaited him back when he was in Whumper's hands.

The collar was everything to Whumpee. It was the only way he had of knowing his old master's mood, and if he had been a good Whumpee. Whumper had put the collar on as a gift, so he could know when he had done something wrong or right. The only times Whumper took it off were when he was about to brutally tortured Whumpee to within an inch of death, because Whumper didn't want him to pass out as fast from lack of oxygen if he hyperventilated, and also so he could hear every scream, howl, and wail of pain that left Whumpee during punishments.

Sometimes Whumper would loosen the collar, just a little, to cause Whumpee a bit of anxiety, as a silent warning that he wasn't living up to his impossibly high standards. Somehow, Whumpee was never good enough for him, and many days ended with the collar coming off, followed by a vicious beating. The looser the collar by the end of the day, the worse it would be for him.

Whumper always reminded him that when the collar came off, it meant he was unwanted, unlovable, worthless. It meant that Whumper could choose to kill Whumpee and abandon him like an unwanted dog on the street, but was graciously letting him live by putting the collar back on as a symbol of ownership.

Whumpee had learned to respect the collar with life-or-death urgency, do anything to keep it on and avoid the living hell that awaited him if it ever came off. Even though it constantly hurt to breathe, it was a small price to pay for being allowed to stay alive. It was only a minor inconvenience, really, and he would never complain about such a thing. Even if it meant he could never do any physically strenuous work or activities without ending up panting and wheezing and gasping for air.

He didn't want to breathe without the restrictive collar on. Because being able to breath right always meant PAIN. He was terrified of being able to breathe freely. And now he'd done something terrible to anger Caretaker, and he didn't even know what he'd done wrong. But Caretaker was trying to take the collar off, which meant she was going to hurt and torture him for hours on end and making him scream his throat and lungs raw and--

Whumpee recoiled away from Caretaker's hands so hard he ended up sprawled across the floor, desperately scooting away from her with hands raised placatingly, pleading and desperate.

"Please!" Whumpee rasped past the collar choking his throat, "whatever I did, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Tell me what I can do to fix it and I will! Please don't take my collar off, please--" a hiccupping sob escaped him, and then he burst into tears, body trembling and shaking violently with all-consuming terror. "Please don't stop loving me!" He wailed frantically. "I'll be so good for you! I'll never make another mistake, if you show me how to be perfect again! You don't have to torture me to get me to obey! Please--"

Caretaker looked worried and confused and also horrified by Whumpee's intense reaction. "What are you talking about? Whumpee, what's going on?" She took a few steps toward him to comfort him, but Whumpee scrambled backwards across the floor, flattening himself against the nearest wall, frightened tears streaming freely down his face.

He was cornered, unable to escape whatever punishment Caretaker planned to carry out once his collar was off. He should have known better. Known better than to believe Caretakers false promises never to hurt him. It was only a matter of time before Whumpee messed it all up, and now he'd pay the price for his insolence.

Caretaker didn't stop coming closer, and Whumpee's throat felt like it was closing up the harder he cried, each breathing coming harder than before until he was gasping raggedly, unable to get a full breath in before the collar choked him and he let out another helpless sob.

Stupid, stupid Whumpee, he told himself. It was all his fault -- he deserved whatever Caretaker was going to do to him. And now he was digging his own grave deeper by flinching away from her -- he wasn't supposed to move away from Whumper when he wanted to touch and adjust his collar, or the consequences would be that much worse.

Whumpee cried even harder at remembering that. He couldn't do anything right, it seemed. He'd let himself get too comfortable, forgot the most important rules beaten into him every day of his life for four solid years by Whumper.

Caretaker slowly sat down in front of his shivering form and scooted close, inches away from where Whumpee had pulled his knees to his chest and was sobbing wretchedly, panicking.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what's happening right now," Caretaker said worriedly. "I was only trying to take off your collar so you could breathe better, it looked so uncomfortable to wear, and you've been here for three weeks without removing it yourself. I only wanted to help -- I didn't mean to startle you. Don't you want to be able to breathe normally again...?

"I don't want to breathe, it's fine, I don't want to breathe," Whumpee wheezed over and over again, like a desperate mantra. But his crying was making it even harder than usual to draw air through his compressed throat, and it felt a lot like he was suffocating. Or like the times when Whumper had lashed out in a fit of rage and choked him out repeatedly. The collar was tight around his neck, digging into his skin with every strained breath he took.

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Masterlist

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