#whumpee's low self esteem

[fleur-a-whump]

ok this was not at all how I was expecting it to go. IM SO INTRIGUED?? like wtf why?

and this is a spoiler but HIS LITTLE 'okay' TO HERO ARE YOU JOKING I WILL SOB??? PROTECT HIM!! LOVE HIM!! HES A BABY HE DOES NOT DESERVE!!

also another spoilerish but I hope 'take care of them' meant kill them bc they deserve it ok

Resource L10#11 - Part 2: A dumpster fire of a day - Crestlen universe

Contents: waking in a dumpster, description of injuries, left to die, freaked out whumpee, resigned whumpee, whumpee who considers himself an object, mentions of past horrible trainings

I love Lionel. As I’m sure you can tell >:)

Part 1

……………………………………………

The underlying throbbing of his muscles on top of the ripping pain in his arms, legs, and nose was what Lionel woke up to. He tried to take a deeper breath, but only succeeded in choking on the blood that had dripped in to rest in the back of his throat from his nose. 

He rolled his head and weakly let the blood slip from the back of his throat to his mouth before he dribbled it out between his lips. After spitting weakly a couple of times, he rolled his head back over the bumpy surface he was laying on to pry his eyes open and figure out where he was. 

Blue grey skies and the sharp line of a building’s eave above him met his eyes, all within a greenish metal container. He blinked a couple of times and rolled his head to the side to spit again and found that he was laying on a bunch of trash bags in a dumpster. 

Keep reading

[whump-place]

Whumpee is used to being the scapegoat. Whenever anything's wrong it's Whumpee's fault, and whenever people need someone to put the blame on, Whumpee is always there.

They are used to it by now, and it doesn't matter if they have a good excuse, or if they would never do half of the things they get blamed for. Whumpee is always the one to take the blame.

Whumpee gets to believe it is actually their fault.

Maybe if they were better. Maybe if they behaved better. Maybe if they could do a single thing right, they wouldn't be punished every moment of their life.

But what can they do? Whumper doesn't listen to their excuses. No one ever does. The best they can do is accept it.

It's their fault.

[rosewriteswhump]

Numb

CW: Lady whump , recovery, past emotional abuse, past gaslighting, recovery, trauma, fear of trusting, repressing emotions, leaving abusive friendship, yelling, fairy whump, immortal whumpee, crying, low self-esteem, emotional manipulation, I can't think of anything else but please let me know if I missed anything. I will fix it asap!

Summary: Marlie finally tells Alice to stop hurting her. She's done with the emotional abuse and cruelty. Alice doesn't take it well and it ends in a fight. Marlie keeps her ground for once and successfully leaves Alice behind. Unaware it will cause unintended consequences.

"What makes you think you can leave me?" Alice's cold voice caused Marlie's pulse to skyrocket. She knew she had to leave Alice -had always known- and now she would finally do it.

Marlie inhaled a shaky breath of air, terror coursing through her veins. "I-i can't take it anymore. I'm so sorry, but I can't deal with the emotional abuse." The fairy slowly backed away, flinching when she hit the wall.

Alice scoffed, angry tears in her eyes trickling down her flushed cheeks. "I was a great friend! If you think I'm abusive, you should take a look in a mirror bitch." The human stepped closer and closer to Marlie, stopping when she had the fairy cornered in the back of the room. "You are a selfish, toxic, and lying monster! All I did was tell you what upset me. Yet, you continued to spend time with your family. You knew how I fucking hated that! Every second away from you made me think I had to eliminate threats. You broke down every time I yelled at you! Who's fault is it that you can't follow basic rules? Only I can talk to you. WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?" Alice was screaming now, her voice shrill and words like knives. "YOU THINK YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! NO! YOU'RE AWARE I'M A YANDERE, AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ACKNOWLEDGE OTHERS? YOU'RE LUCKY I DIDN'T KILL THEM!" 

Marlie swallowed her fear, terrified tears quickly welling in her eyes. "I live with them. Dawn has known me my whole life and has always been supportive. She didn't gaslight me when I was hurt. I can't live like this. I-I'm sorry, have a good life!" Marlie used a spell to create a small smoke screen, taking her chance to escape.

----

A week had passed since the fight, Marlie hiding in her room and blocking Alice on every social media and chat she could think of. A simple question made Marlie tense and fumble for anything Alice accepted as an answer. She avidly avoided Cedar's and Bear's efforts to talk about anything she enjoyed, terrified of angering them-even if Cedar had the anger of a purring kitten-. 

Harley was out on a mission and would return in a few days, causing more anxiety in the young fairy. While Dawn, worriedly, gave her space, still checking in on them. 

Marlie had been trying to shove everything down, unprepared to face the trauma the friendship caused. Maybe she wasn't ready to admit it to herself, wracked with guilt over all the previous arguments. Marlie wondered how Alice was coping, wanting the girl to have a good life as long as Marlie could avoid it. She inhaled shakily, repeating a mantra created by her self-doubt. 

I am okay. I won't get hurt if I bottle it up. I can't get yelled at if I shove it away. It's my fault.

Marlie looked in the mirror and forced a smile -it looked exhausted but good enough. Only a healer could tell how much pain she was in.- before opening the door to her room.

----

Dawn sat across from Harley in their room, eyeing all the prizes from competitions on the walls and shelves. Harley watched her nervous, fidgeting with a careful expression. "What's up, Dawn? You know Marlie better than the rest of us combined. So if anything's up you'd be able to tell and talk with her, right?" They asked, hesitating at the last word. Dawn's despair palpable in the room

"No, she hasn't. I asked how the talk with Alice went, and Marlie said Alice was gone. She left the human. But I know it's hurting her, and Alice is why she's hurting. I want to help her, but she's not ready to talk about it." Dawn's eyes filled with tears, and she removed her glasses to wipe them away. Harley sat beside the healer, her hand resting on Dawn's head as the shorter fairy looked up at them. 

Harley gave a shaky smile. "If she's not ready, don't force her. Alice coerced Marlie to do many things. She's scared of that again, and the best we can do is give her the space she needs and offer her comfort." Alice was the cruelest human they had encountered in the half millennia they had lived. With a bit of hesitation, Harley hugged Dawn awkwardly, allowing the healer to sob into her shoulder. 

A few minutes later, Dawn had calmed down and pulled away. "Thanks, you're right. I'll give Marlie space but still be by her side. You've got good advice; I think you know more about healing than most combat fairies." Smiling, she pushed some of the braids over her dark shoulder before heading to her room.

----

Taglist: @nullb1rdbones

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed

Ask box is open to any questions for me or my characters!

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#1)

Preventative Measures

so like. this is a thing. been toying with this little guy in my head for a few weeks and like, almost nothing is concrete but I'm hoping I'll turn it into a series.

content: ex-villain whumpee, hero/leader whumper, manipulative whumper, just like a LOT of manipulation, collars/collaring, referenced electrocution, low self esteem, subtle threats, guilt trips

I've never done this before, let me know if I missed something!!

masterlist | next

----------

Villain has finally been given a chance. A chance to prove he's more than what the whole city has always thought of him, more than what his father raised him to be. He wanted to do good in the world. The heroes were finally giving him a chance to be more than they've always thought of him. 

...or so he thought.

He gulps as he stares at the shock collar in Team Leaders hands. It's a small thing, sleek and unassuming. But he knows exactly what it is because Team Leader had shown him how it worked.  The man is currently speaking to him nonchalantly. Villain should really be listening to the hero that holds the key to a better life. But that collar... shakes Villain's faith in Team Leader. Just a little.

"Villain," the man says shortly. Impatiently. Shit.

Villain jumped to attention, nerves only growing worse. 

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just-just a little confused. I thought... I was a part of the team..." He tries to keep the heartbreak out of his voice. He doesn't quite succeed. 

"If you'd listen..." the Team Leader sighed deeply. Villain was going to throw up. 

Team Leader began again, speaking slowly as if to a child. Or a stupid person. Villain thinks he fell into the latter column. "I was just saying this will help you better mesh with the team. I'm sure you've noticed people are a little nervous with you around."

Hostile. Villain would use the word hostile.

"Given your past, everything you've done," the man drawled. Villain can't hold back a wince. 

"So, to ease their worries, and allow them to see how great I know you can be, this is just a little precautionary measure. A bit of a show."

Ryan swallowed thickly.

"So... It wouldn't be used..."

He tries to keep himself from thinking about electricity burning the sensitive skin of his throat as it shoots down his spine and into his skull to paralyze him. He's familiar enough with the feeling; he doesn't need to imagine it.

Team Leader gives him an easy smile. "As long as there are no issues, of course not."

"...Issues?"

"Oh, stuff that'll never happen. Just breaking any of the rules."

Villain arched his brow, slightly dubious. "Rules.”

"Yeah, like, follow orders, don't fraternize with any of your old contacts, don't leave our level, don't work unsupervised, don't harm the team. Stuff you've been doing this whole time."

"Wait, don't leave the level?

"I mean, that's pretty obvious, bud. If we can't see you, we can't know that you're following the rest of the rules."

He nods mutely, gaze wandering. this whole thing just. He didn't know. It hurt.

Team Leader gently tilted his head up. "Villain, I'm only doing this because I trust you. I know you'd never do anything that could jeopardize your place here."

He doesn't trust that Villain is a hero though, obviously. That he's good. Because Villain could never be good. Not now. Not after all he's done. 

No, he can only hope to do good. And the only way he'll be able to do that is with the team. If this is what it takes to ease his team into working with him, if this is what it takes for him to stay, then he'll do it.

"O-okay."

"Atta boy, Villain! I knew you could do it, man."

Villain nods, trying to give him a smile.

Team Leader moves towards him all too quickly, and he can't help the flinch. The man doesn't seem to notice—or at least he doesn't acknowledge it—and is soon once again gently tilting Villain's chin up from where it had fallen. 

Villain fights the urge to lean into the touch.

While he's distracted, Team Leader swiftly brings the collar, already disengaged and bent open at the hinges, and presses it to Villain's skin. 

Villain jolts at the cold metal and fights to swallow as it's closed around his neck.

The locking mechanism clicks right up against his spine. He can't help the shudder that trickles down his back at the finality of the sound.

"I'm so proud of you, bud," Team Leader says with a big smile and a ruffle of Villain's shaggy curls.

The tightness in his chest eases, just a little. A little part of him flares in anger at how easily he's comforted. He doesn't deserve the comfort.

But he's trying. The collar now fit snuggly around his neck, like it was made for him, is proof of that.

--------------

ps ex-villain whumpee on the hero team but whumped by the hero team is my all-time favorite trope and it is so hard to find I have finally hit the point of needing to produce my own story to scratch the itch

[thewhumpcaretaker]

💗 Sex as Caretaking 💗

What it says on the tin! These are ways to make whumpee happier or even physically heal them with sex.

CW: NSFW of course

Whumpee is touch starved and lonely before finding Caretaker. Maybe they're a virgin who has never had sex and feels self-conscious about it, or maybe they're going through a dry spell. Every touch feels like salvation.

Whumpee copes with stress by having meaningless casual sex, but Caretaker is much more loving than they were expecting and they end up feeling comforted on a deep level.

Or Caretaker just delivers the meaningless, casual sex that they need and doesn't ask questions. They trust whumpee to handle things their way. It's refreshing.

Whumpee is an insomniac who can't fall asleep without orgasming, but they're too sick or injured to do it themselves, so Caretaker helps.

Whumpee is in severe pain and there are no pain meds available…but sex releases natural feel-good chemicals!

Whumpee is depressed or panicking and Caretaker offers to pleasure them to help them get through it.

They're in a cold environment and need to share a sleeping bag to avoid hypothermia. A little activity wouldn't hurt either…

Caretaker's healing magic is performed via sex. The better it feels, the better it works!

Living weapon or vampire whumpee who thinks they'll be dangerous in bed, but gradually realizes they can have sex safely and trust themself not to lose control.

Monster whumpee who thinks everyone finds them disgusting and has resigned themself to never having a partner. But Caretaker is a proud monsterfucker!

Orgasm is necessary to break a curse or to release chemicals that serve as the antidote to a poison. Caretaker is willing to help without making a big deal about it.

Whumpee wants to take back control of their body after dealing with some kind of trauma or even just an illness that made them feel weak. Caretaker makes sure that the sex is focused on them and lets them dominate.

Whumpee has a disability or chronic pain that interferes with sex. Caretaker accommodates everything and makes sure they get pleasure without getting worn out.

Whumpee with low self esteem being worshiped and praised in bed. Caretaker encourages them to ask for exactly what they want.

Whumpee with low self esteem who is still too shy to ask for what they want or to hear praise about themself. So Caretaker takes the lead and makes sure they get their needs met with frequent nonverbal check-ins.

Whumpee who developed "weird" kinks from all the whipping, torture, etc., and Caretaker who is happy to indulge them!

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🍊Dreams that make up the pain

Title from Lonely Stars (SEUNGKWAN)

Summary: It seemed like no matter what Seungkwan did it wasn’t enough to satisfy his strict producer-hyung. 

CW: low self-esteem - no musical knowledge from the author so if this makes no sense ... I tried googling it and it still doesn't make any kind of sense to me

Whumpee: Seungkwan Caretaker: Woozi/Jihoon

“Again”, Woozi called into the microphone by the mixing console, his voice echoing through the headphones Seungkwan was wearing. Seungkwan nodded, biting his lip.

He had been in the studio for hours - without any rest, without any breaks. And Woozi still wasn’t satisfied with him. At all. 

It seemed like no matter what Seungkwan did it wasn’t enough to satisfy his strict producer-hyung. 

And Seungkwan was so so tired of trying. He wanted to succeed, of course. He wanted to be a successful idol one day and that meant he would have to work hard. After all they had just debuted and while their debut album had done reasonably well, the road to stardome wasn’t done. It had just begun.

But it was tiring. He got up early every day, spent hours trying to promote them on every variety show he could get access to, only to come back to the company to practice along with the other members day after day. And even after dance practice was done, they still had vocal practice. 

Normally Seungkwan enjoyed vocal practice most. He loved hanging out with his hyungs and he was hungry to learn from them. Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s soothing and comforting voices, the way they just so easily sounded soft and calming. Seokmin’s voice was so versatile and he was so expressive when singing, something Seungkwan admired a lot. 

Woozi’s voice was amazing too, he just had that special something along with a nearly perfect pitch. Seungkwan was always amazed by him and then of course there was still the fact that Woozi produced all their music on his own. He was incredible.

 💎

Just lately, it seemed like Woozi was trying to tear Seungkwan down in every way he could. Making him repeat sections over and over again. Making him sing out of his range, making him do things Woozi should know that Seungkwan couldn’t do and not listening to Seungkwan’s protests, ignoring Seungkwan’s defense of Woozi having to know it was impossible for him.

Every failure was met with more criticism and more impossible tasks and standards. 

Seungkwan didn’t know how and when he had upset Woozi so badly that the older felt like he needed to torture and humiliate him. At least that’s what it felt like. 

It wasn’t like Seungkwan thought that Woozi was a bad person - he truly wasn’t - he just didn’t understand why his hyung was so dead set on making him feel bad. Every little thing was criticized. 

“Seungkwan, your voice was a bit flat”, Woozi said through the microphone, “again.”

Seungkwan just nodded. There was no point in arguing. For a moment he wished Woozi hadn’t dismissed Jeonghan, Joshua and Seokmin hours earlier. Maybe they would have stood up for him? Told Woozi that Seungkwan couldn’t do it when he himself was too shy to admit it? Maybe they would even have told Woozi to be kinder to him - even if it was Seungkwan who was failing and Woozi had every right to be short with him.

But then again, it was at least not that embarrassing now, alone with Woozi, who already knew Seungkwan sucked and no audience to hear him tell Seungkwan to pathetically try again and again.

 💎

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

 💎

Seungkwan took a deep breath and sang, again. This time already half-way through the transition from a lower note to a higher one did he notice that his pitch was off. Before he could even try to fix or hide it, he was interrupted, his voice ringing out as the music cut.

“Seungkwan”, Woozi said, his voice flat. Seungkwan turned to him, praying that his hyung couldn’t see the tears he felt building up in his eyes through the glass separating them. His throat went dry and it felt a bit like he was choking. Why wasn’t he good enough? 

“What is going on with you today?”, his hyung continued, voice still flat but now frowning unhappily. “You can do so much better …”

“I’m sorry, hyung”, Seungkwan choked out, interrupting him and spitting out the first excuse that came to his mind, “I … uh, I need to use the bathroom, sorry.”

With tears cloaking his vision he shoved open the door separating the recording room from the studio and rushed to the exit. He heard Woozi say something behind him but over the pounding of his heart he couldn’t understand what he was saying. He didn’t really want to find out.

He had no plans of where to go except far away. Preferably somewhere where Woozi couldn’t ever find him. Or any of his members. Nobody. 

But as soon as the door slammed shut behind him, he slammed into the wall, his vision too blurry with tears. And so he just crumpled to his knees right where he was, outside of the studio that had felt like his personal hell for weeks. 

He buried his face in his hands and just sobbed.

 💎

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. 

He didn’t want to be seen. He didn’t want to be touched. He didn’t want to be. 

Instinctively he curled up closer, one hand holding onto his ankle to make himself even smaller, the other covering his face. Maybe then the other person would forget him.

And yet, deep down, he craved comfort. Somebody being by his side. Telling him that everything would be fine. That he was doing okay.

But he knew he didn’t deserve it.

So he was surprised when he heard the low mumble of his name. “Seungkwannie?”

He didn’t react. What could he do? He was so pathetic. Outside of the studio, sobbing at his own faults. He didn’t understand. Why was somebody there with him? Why was he not left alone in his misery?

Who would…?

“Seungkwannie, what is going on?”

He recognized the soft voice, higher than anybody else's in the group. A small hand found its way into his hair, softly stroking at his dark curls in a comforting motion. The person’s elbow was a comforting weight on his shoulder.

“Seungkwannie, baby, talk to me.”

Slowly Seungkwan blinked open his eyes, staring at his orange shirt but not yet having the courage to face his hyung.

The same hyung who had just criticized him in the studio, made him sing impossible notes and made him feel so small - the same Woozi-hyung was now crouching next to him, worry in his voice and his presence as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold day.

“I’m sorry, hyung”, Seungkwan choked out, suddenly feeling the need to explain himself and apologize. After all, he had just rudely ran out while Woozi had taken time out of his day to try to teach him - even if it was a failure. “I’m so sorry. I really try to do better. Please believe me, I try so hard. I just … I can’t do it. I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough for your expectations.”

Woozi sighed and his hand left Seungkwan’s hair. He had done it. His words must have convinced his hyung of what he had witnessed over the past weeks. Seungkwan wasn’t good enough - and now Woozi was going to leave. Maybe he would have enough compassion to let Seungkwan go to Seungcheol himself and tell the leader he wasn’t good enough. Maybe Woozi would just go back to his studio and try to fix the mess of takes Seungkwan had left behind. 

 💎

But then a shoulder touched his as Woozi sat down next to him, stretching out his legs. 

“Hyung?”, Seungkwan asked, confused.

“Why would you think that?”, Woozi asked quietly. “That you couldn’t do it, I mean? You were doing so well.”

Seungkwan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Woozi had made him sing those notes over and over again. Why would he do that if Seungkwan didn’t need to practice them? It didn’t make sense.

“Hyung”, he whispered, still so confused and anxiety making his heart beat in his chest. “Did I do something else wrong then?” Had he somehow angered Woozi on some other level?

“Seungkwannie, you didn’t do anything wrong”, Woozi replied and - to Seungkwan’s utmost surprise - interlinked their hands. In his shock he looked up and what he saw only puzzled him more. Woozi looked … sad? Worried? His eyes were so soft and he seemed to truly be concerned by Seungkwan’s behaviour. “Did I do something to make you think that?”

“You let Hannie-hyung, Shua-hyung and Seokminnie-hyung go home hours ago”, Seungkwan reluctantly stuttered out and swallowed hard before continuing. “Only I had to stay and practice. I know I didn’t do well at all. I just, hyung, I can’t sing those notes. I can’t. Why are you making me try? Did I do something to make you angry?”

The words quickly spilled from his mouth and he bit his tongue once he realized what he had said. If he truly had done something wrong - though Woozi insisted he hadn’t - he didn’t want to make it worse, blaming Woozi for something Seungkwan himself was doing badly. 

“I just … I mean, we both know I can’t hit those notes. Why are you making me try and stay behind for something I can’t do anyways?”

Woozi sighed and for a moment closed his eyes. Seungkwan felt his heart stop. But then, Woozi looked up and a sad smile was on his face.

“What note did I ask you to sing last week?”, Woozi asked then. 

Seungwan blinked, confused. What was his hyung trying to say?

“A B3?”, he asked, reluctantly.

Woozi nodded. “What note did I ask for today?”

“B4?”

“That’s right. Do you remember when we started practicing two months ago?”

Seungkwan thought back but he couldn’t remember. He just knew it had been the start of the grueling practices then, thinking back then that Woozi couldn’t seriously expect him to hit it. He shook his head.

“It was a B1, Seungkwannie”, Woozi replied. “Back then you were convinced you couldn’t do it. And two weeks ago you said you could never hit a B3. And today you hit the B4 easily.”

For a moment Seungkwan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even remember struggling with a B1 or B2. And now Woozi said he had hit a B4?

“But ...”, he stammered. “I …”

“You were so convinced you would fail you were even scared to try back then” Woozi said with a sigh. “Seokminnie told you you could do it and you waved him off. Hannie-hyung told you could, as did Shua-hyung. You never believed them but I knew they were right. I knew you wouldn’t even try if I told you what I wanted to hear so I just tried to push you. I’m sorry I lied but I am not sorry for the reason why I did it. You are amazing, you just need to believe in yourself.”

Seungkwan couldn’t believe his ears. His hyung had just made him sing because he wanted Seungkwan to …

Well, he probably would have laughed in Woozi’s face if he had told Seungkwan what he wanted to hear from him. And so Woozi had tricked him. 

He was still mad but he understood now. Woozi had never meant to be mean or make him feel bad. He just pushed Seungkwan because he knew he could do better than what he believed he could do.

 💎

“Hyung, I don’t know what to say.” Seungkwan was thankful, though there was still doubt in his heart. But if his Woozi-hyung trusted him - or even better his Jihoon-hyung trusted him - maybe it would be okay.

“Say Thank you and don’t mention this to anybody or I will lose my reputation and you your lines”, Woozi grumbled and pushed himself up. “Now, I want you to be able to hit B5 by the end of the year so get off your ass.”

“Hyung, we all know you are a softie at heart”, Seungkwan teased, a smile on his face.

Woozi shoved him into the wall. 

Notes: Again, I have no musical knowledge at all! Feel free to correct me so that this makes sense because I am pretty sure I am tone-deaf and I don't understand music at all...

Masterlist links: Fairy's Masterlist 2024 Fairy's Masterlist 2025 Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

[pigeonwhumps]

Battle

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Angstpril: alt prompt 1: troubled mind

Inspired by these two prompts by @hurtmyfavsthanks and an anon ask she received. I saw the more recent one and just wrote this straight up within a couple of hours, unable to resist it.

1k

CWs: living weapon, outcast whumpee, magical whumpee, low self-esteem, betrayal kinda, mentions of battle and casualties, mentioned past discrimination

Whumpee doesn't remember much of the battle.

It went by in a haze. They remember red, people falling, screams, unsure which side they were on. They remember the glee, the euphoria, of using their magic. The high of it all.

Now they're starting to come down from that high, and they can see the fear in people's eyes. The injuries, the casualties. Vaguely, they wonder who caused them. Was it them again?

Hands cup their face, gentle, calloused. The only ones that will ever touch them anymore.

Caretaker's.

"Hey. Look at me, now. Not the camp. Me." Whumpee looks up hesitantly, into their loving, warm eyes. One day they'll change. One day... one day they'll harden. Fear, hatred. From all the people they've hurt, on all sides. One day it'll be too much. They're afraid of the day they'll see that, of what will happen then.

But it hasn't happened yet.

Caretaker wipes their cheek softly. "It's okay. Come on, rest. Lay your head down. You're done for today. Close your eyes and rest."

Whumpee crawls into Caretaker's lap. They vaguely register being carried, head being lifted until it meets Caretaker's neck. Whumpee nuzzles into it.

"Shh. You did so well. You're doing so well, Whumpee. I'm proud of you."

Whumpee doesn't want to be. They want to grow flowers. But this is what their magic likes, this is what their king likes, this is what makes Caretaker say those words of praise in just that voice, so they can't stop.

(They ignore the small voice in their head that says that they have no idea what Caretaker's reaction to flowers would be. This is exhilarating, even if they feel an ever-growing bubble of shame at the endless, ruthless violence.)

Caretaker runs a hand through their hair, combing out the knots from the day's work, using a little water to clean the worst of the blood. Whumpee has been through this so many times that they know what to expect without even a glance. He won't hurt them with those eyes. They know his expression, his feelings, and they curl their arms and legs closer around him.

He's so warm.

"S'okay buddy. I'm here."

"Hmm."

Whumpee closes their eyes. It's so... so... they don't think they can sleep yet but they find themself drifting on the exhaustion the magical high always brings.

_

The next morning is... the next morning. As it always is with a new squad, it is very different to the first one.

And as it always is, Whumpee feels a sharp stab of hurt.

The soldiers know who they are, what they are. Have done since the very beginning .They've worked with Whumpee on the preparations, the journey here, for weeks. They know them. Sat around the campfire, shared meals, joked and talked and laughed. They'd been wished good luck yesterday morning, hair ruffled, smiles and reassurances in abundance. Soldier had even fixed their horse's saddle after the straps started to break. Now...

Now, they won't come within arms length of them. Soldier ladles out breakfast to the rest, leaving an empty bowl several feet from Whumpee, not looking them in the eye as he leaves them to fetch their own. He flinches along with several others as they approach the campfire, more whose hands jerk towards their swords. As if they're going to attack. As if they're so out of control that they'd attack their own side on purpose.

They reluctantly let go of Caretaker's hand so he can fetch their breakfast and the healing potion alone. At least he looks them in the eye. At least he sits with them, and talks, and touches them. Helps convince them to take the potion, even though it's bitter and rancid and no-one will improve it for the likes of them, and they won't need it once the adrenaline and euphoria of tomorrow's battle kicks in.

The kindness is only for now. It will change, sooner or later.

Nobody helps the pair of them take down their tent, or pack their saddlebags, and the Sergeant looks about to stop Whumpee from replacing the emergency set of daggers they carry in their boots at all times. A gift from Caretaker.

It's like they have the plague. Or the Devil's Touch, as their old villagers used to say.

They're pretty much alone in the clearing now, the rest of the squad staying as far away as they can without letting Whumpee out of their sight. Just in case they explode or something.

Without a word, Whumpee settles down on the ground beside the smoldering fire, Caretaker sitting on the log behind them. It's a sharply cold morning, dew dampening their breeches, but their leather armour keeps them surprisingly warm.

Caretaker braids their hair quickly and simply, just enough to keep it out of their face. Battlefields aren't the place for complicated hairstyles. Which is a shame, because Caretaker takes pride in that skill, and Whumpee delights in being allowed to display the results.

Whumpee dries their face with the cloth Caretaker hands them wordlessly. They need to get it together. It's not like it's the end of the world or anything. They try to summon the ease by which they sometimes prepare, the eagerness instead of dread that comes with a lot of battles.

It doesn't come. Today is a day for dread, then, and there's nothing they can do about it but pray for a miracle. And a break in the hatred and fear, the violence with which everyone rejects them.

They can't help thinking, though, that the amount of damage they've done, it's no wonder people want them locked away. They are a weapon, after all.

Yes. Definitely one of the bad days.

Caretaker's their handler. They try not to think about it but it's true. He's the only one who might see it, might offer them a brief reprieve. So they summon up all their courage.

"Please..."

Caretaker finishes the braid and kisses their temple. "I'm so sorry, Whumpee. I really am. But you need to do this. We need to do this. The kingdom needs you."

Whumpee nods. They don't blame Caretaker, not really. They need to win this war. And Whumpee needs to use their magic.

But gods do they wish they could stop.

[arrrmagedonnn]

Well i decided to translate my lore article into English soooo I hope you will enjoy it!! Also feel free to ask some questions about them or maybe art requests with them, I will be so happy to answer!

CW: legal slavery, slave whump, conditioned whumpee, self-harm, non-con, abuse (I dont know what to add but I hope you understand vibe)

1. A bit of world building 

The setting is an alternative Europe of the 70s-80s (historical events are different, this is just to understand the general atmosphere and the development of technology). The economy is based on a system of owning and selling slaves, and is under strict control –you can legally buy/sell a slave only through the Central Market, which is located in every city. Market belongs to the Formelle family, which takes a large percentage from each completed sale, and due to this is one of the richest in the country.

The market is divided into several sections, each sells slaves of different “quality". Every Friday there is a Big Auction where exclusive slaves are sold, which cannot be bought just like that. They are considered more elite because of their physical attractiveness, learning to write/read and other skills. On the rest of the week, in the evenings, Small Auctions are held, where slaves are exhibited that have not been sold for a fixed price during the day. The Big Auction and Small Auctions are held on Monday and Wednesday by Mark, on all other days by Fran.

2. Ethan

Ethan is a slave, he was born after his mother (also a slave) was raped by her master. She worked in a large estate, with many servants besides them, so for the first couple of years they did not pay much attention to Ethan, but the more he grew, the more he began to resemble his father in appearance. So, in order to avoid a scandal and the disclosure of the rape story, at the age of 11, Ethan was resold to the other side of the country, to a farm.

He lived and grew up there until he was 17. Everything was quite good – Ethan was not given too hard work and most of the time he was not noticed at all, so he often secretly went for walks in the woods, to the river, and other interesting places near the farm. On one of these walks, he accidentally went a little further than usual, got lost and for two days couldnt find the way back. When he returned, the owners thought he was trying to escape, so they beat him up and then resold him to work in a factory.

It was a textile factory and the conditions there were much worse – constant work for 15-17 hours a day, disgusting living conditions, lack of normal food, and in case of disobedience (which was just weariness), Ethan was punished by being locked in a small dark punishment cell (after that he had a phobia of enclosed dark spaces). At such moments, he began to have a strong derealization, and in order to somehow cope with this, Ethan did not come up with anything better than stealing and carrying sharp cutting objects (needles, blades, pins, scissors) and cutting/stabbing his hands, because the pain helped him return to reality and don't start going crazy.

Ethan worked at the factory for about a year until Mark took him away from there.

By nature, Ethan is modest and intimidated, he tries to be as obedient as possible, even to the detriment of his needs. He has low self–esteem and considers himself fundamentally bad, wrong and broken, and thinks that all violence in his direction is right and deserved.

And some facts:

- Ethan can't read or write, but he can count to 30 and tell the time by the clock.

- Ethan constantly hears voices accusing and insulting him, and he is generally prone to visual, auditory and tactile hallucinations, as well as bouts of derealization.

- Ethan considers ignoring and loneliness much worse than any physical punishment.

- His favorite dessert is sugar cubes

3. Mark

Mark is one of the children of the Formelle family. Thanks to his mother, who indulged his every whim, he grew up spoiled and selfish, used to having everything in the world revolve around him. Because of his character and behavior, his peers did not want to be friends with him, so he either bought the friendship of other children for money, or was surrounded by slaves of his own age (he accidentally killed one of them during a game by throwing a stone at his head, but the next day they just brought a new one to Mark).

After graduating from high school, Mark tried to study at a medical university, but barely mastered the first year. Instead of studying, he preferred going to loud parties, drinking expensive cocktails in bars, going to boutiques with branded clothes and finding other ways to spend his parents' money. After some time, he was forced to work as an auctioneer in order to bring at least some benefit to the family business, but even so he has a lot of time for endless parties and bars.

Since childhood, Mark had a noticeable craving for violence, so when he got older, Mark began to use slaves, originally intended for sale, for his “personal use”. Mark's main fetish is cutting, so that all his slaves either died from wounds and blood loss, or became mutilated to the point that they could not move normally, and their appearance made them unsuitable for resale. Such waste continued for a long time, but in the end, Mark was forbidden to take expensive elite slaves, and instead take cheaper and already used ones, such as Ethan. By the way, Mark chose Ethan for himself only because he saw fresh cuts on him, and he was very amused by how he was hurting himself.

By nature, Mark is very mannered, arrogant, likes to be the center of attention and is fueled by adoration for himself from other people. He has an antisocial personality disorder, so he does not feel empathy for others, except for feigned pity. He likes to control everything and hates it when things don't go the way he intended.

And some facts:

- Mark uses makeup – concealer, concealer, he draws himself small arrows and a mole under his eye, because he heard that it makes the face more symmetrical.

- Mark is a sadomasochist and have ASPD

- His favorite dessert is macaroons

3.1 Mark and Ethan

Ethan lived with Mark for two years, and Mark very quickly won Ethan's love and affection through emotional manipulation. Compared to life at the factory, life with Mark was easier and calmer for Ethan, even despite the constant violence in his direction. Mark convinced Ethan that the process of making cuts makes him “beautiful“ and ”full-fledged", all punishments are done “for the good". In addition, beatings, sex, cuts and forced self-harm always alternated with affection, care and words of love, which made Ethan want violence against himself, because after it there would be a pleasant, comfortable part.

Their "relationship" lasted until Mark thought it was a funny idea to fuck Ethan in the eye socket. Before that, Ethan was already physically weak due to the constant mutilation, and after that he finally broke down, constantly just lying, sleeping, crying, and did not show the same emotions as before. Mark tried to sell him, but he couldn't find anyone willing to buy the exhausted, half-dead one-eyed slave, so Mark gave Ethan to his friend, Rafe.

4. Raf (Rafael)

Rafael is a childhood friend of Mark, but unlike him, he does not come from a rich family. His father left the family, Francesca's mother worked a lot and almost did not raise her son, so from childhood Raf was more serious and independent than his peers.

Raf's mother and Mark's father communicated closely, so the children spent a lot of time with each other. Raf was the only one whose friendship Mark couldn't buy, and who didn't suck up to him because of his status. They often quarreled, fought, reconciled, fought again, but in the end they remained close friends for many years to come. Rafe was and remains the only one whom Mark considers his equal, and whose opinion and attitude he cares at least a little.

After graduating from school, Raf dreamed of going to medical school with Mark, but he failed to enroll in budget education, and there was not enough money for paid education. Instead, Raf graduated as an economist and got a job at a regular office position.

By nature, Raf is quite balanced, restrained and serious. He suffers from workaholism and insomnia. Long-term communication with people quickly exhausts him, it is difficult for him to make new friends and even acquaintances.

And some facts:

- In high school and before the first years of university, Rof dated Mark's cousin, Lillian. They parted on quite a good note, realizing that they were not suitable for each other.

- Raf is always haunted by the thought that he is not doing "enough" – not working hard enough, not trying hard enough, and in an attempt to feel satisfied with the completion of some project, he can work continuously for several days in a row.

- Raf has a british cat, Lala, which he picked up from the street (in fact, she went into the house herself and refused to leave). Lala is not very sociable and grumpy, often bites and scratches if you try to pet her.

- Rafe likes to watch true-edge shows on TV and read detective stories, in which the reader is invited to find the killer along with the main character.

- Collects stamps and smoking pipes. - He cooks well, but because of work, he has almost no time for it.

4.1 Raf and Mark

Raf and Mark still communicate well and often, despite the difference in characters. After Rafe broke up with Lillian, Mark suggested that he start dating, but after the recent breakup, Rafe agreed only to a "relationship without a relationship" – they have sex, romance, but they do not call an official relationship.

4.2 Raf and Ethan

As I said above, Mark decided to give Ethan to Raf. Rafe himself has been extremely negative about the slavery system since childhood and does not support it, so he agreed to take Ethan only because he would not have lived long in any other place because of his weakened condition. Ethan will need a long time to get used to the new conditions, especially in contrast after living with Mark. For example, Ethan is used to being punished for any oversight, and if he doesn't, then he needs to harm himself on his own, and Rafe won't understand the reasons for this behavior for a long time.

weeeeell thats all!! I know that the article is a bit crooked and my English is not so good, but I tried my best!!

[a-crumb-of-whump]

A New Beginning #21: Positive Affirmations

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Content: Self esteem issues, [mentioned] past child whump, recovery, pet whumpee, vampire whumpee, human caretaker, [past] parental whumpers.

I have been in such a slump recently, I'm so sorry for the lack of content </3 either the next chapter or the chapter after is when shit gets real.

-

“What’cha doin’?” Adam asked one morning as he sat down on the couch with his second cup of coffee. Carlos immediately glanced up from his new diary, a smile coming to his face when he realised that it was a genuine question rather than one asked out of politeness. 

“I’m practicing positive affirmations with myself,” he told him. “Trying to write down three things I like about myself, or three things I think I’m good at, or… really, just three positive things. It’s… uh, harder than the people in the video I watched made it seem. I only have one thing so far.” 

It was almost sad that he’d only been able to think of one thing in the hour that he’d been sitting here. Despite his humans’ constant flow of compliments and reassurances, his opinion of himself was still rather low, and it felt like there was something physically stopping him from seeing himself in any other light. Himself, perhaps?

Adam hummed, still looking half-asleep despite his attempts to wake himself up.  “Can I see what you got so far?” 

Obediently, Carlos rotated his book and pushed it towards the human, allowing him to see what he’d written. A single dot point, written in messy cursive that even Carlos found hard to read at times. He hoped that, with time, it would look better.

I’m good at being good. 

“You are,” Adam reassured him. “You’re always good to us. What about your art, as well? You’re getting pretty damn good at that.” 

The vampire considered that for a moment, thinking back to the last few things he’d scribbled down as of late. He’d certainly been getting better, but in comparison to the few pieces of art Rebel had been kind enough to show him, his was an embarrassment. 

He sighed, setting his hands down in his lap as he slouched a little. “But what if I think I’m good at something, and it turns out that I’m really not?” he asked quietly. “I was gonna put down that I’m okay at cooking, or that I’m getting better at remembering social cues, but I don’t wanna do that if I’m really not. I’m scared that if someone sees that I think of myself like that, they’ll get upset with me for… lying? or thinking too highly of myself?”

“Buddy, if you judge your skills by how the people around you perceive them, then you’ll never get anything down. The exercise is to write down things you like about yourself, right?” Carlos nodded, eyes directed at the table rather than at Adam. “Then, if you like that you can cook or do art or pick up on social cues, it counts. Nobody has any right to tell you you can’t like a certain aspect of yourself.” 

Huh. He’d never seen it that way. For so many years, any sign of self confidence was promptly beaten out of him, to the point where his entire life revolved around how the people around him viewed him rather than what he thought of himself. It was hard to imagine a world where he could be content with who he was without at least a little concern for the opinions of others.

He reached forward to pull the book back towards him again, idly tapping his pen against the open page a few times as he struggled to work up the courage to write down the things he wanted to be there. For a moment he looked up at Adam for some reassurance, and the man silently encouraged him with a warm smile and a nod. 

“I’m… I’m good at cooking,” he murmured to himself as he wrote it down. “I’m good at my art, and I’m getting better at reading social cues. There… those are my three things.” 

“Congratulations, man. Are you happy with it? Do you agree with what you’ve written?” 

There was a small hesitation before Carlos finally nodded. “Yes, I think so. At least, I know that one day I’ll mean it, right? If I say it enough times?” 

It made his heart warm to see Adam nod enthusiastically along with what he was saying. “For sure. You’ll get there eventually. Like most things, it just takes practice. Sort of a… ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ kinda concept. That’s how I did it, anyway.” 

“You had to do this, too?” 

The man shrugged. “Yeah. Both Ryker and I had to, in our own ways. I grew up being beaten horrendously for liking who I was. My mom and dad saw me as a burden and they hated when I didn’t see myself in the same way. You already know how Ryker was treated. That obviously had major effects on his self esteem, too, which… paired with his ADHD, put it at rock bottom for ages."

He took a sip from his cup of coffee, now staring down at his knees with them brought to his chest and his back against the arm of the couch. “We worked hard to build ourselves back up again, ‘n’ I’m so sorry that you’ve gotta go through that same journey. It fucking sucks.” 

“The world isn’t so great,” Carlos whispered after some time spent in silence. His chest felt heavy now, sorrow and guilt having made itself more comfortable there with each word that left Adam’s lips. Humans lived such short lives. Why did so many of them have to spend it recovering from things they had no control over? It didn’t seem fair. “Sometimes I wish that I could create another one, just for Ryker. One where he could have all the friends and family he wanted but never get hurt. He’d have those guardian angels that I read about in a book once watching over him and people to keep him company when he felt alone.” 

He adjusted his weight a little before finally glancing up at his human again. “You deserve to know that I would do the same for you, if I could. You protected Ryker throughout the years that I could not and gave me a real home to feel safe in. I owe you more than I can give.” 

It surprised him to see a dampness to Adam’s eyes as he smiled over at him. Unlike the ones of reassurance or comfort that he usually gave, this one seemed to be caused by what he’d said. Something that indicated he was happy with his words. That made Carlos happy, too. 

“You’re good at making the people around you happy,” he said after another sip of his drink. “Write that down on my behalf.”

Carlos instantly lit up, already pulling his book close again. “Yes, sir.” 

-

@choppedflowermuffinchild @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @paniatheweirdone @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @whumpdreamz

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

✏️

"what are your current WIPs about?"

A New oc with my same panic/seizure/trauma disorder

A prompt about whumpee with low self esteem

A new NSFW OC (technically for my other blog)

“Dylan having a breakdown” or just the Brody update

🫠🫠🫠

[whump-place]

Adopted.

4-Good enough.

Masterlist.

Content: Multiple Whumpees, Carewhump, Pet Whumpees, Conditioned Whumpees, Low self-esteem, mention of self harm.

"Ugh. Will you take that away from me at once? I'm busy here." Star complained, the new set of sparkling collars and matching earrings Master got for them placed in front of them. They were trying the blue one, it was cute, but not their favorite.

"Relax, okay? I'm just trying this out." Master got him a new toy, and Leo tried to understand why. Why waste money on him? "This isn't even funny, though, just a... What was this called?"

Lian tried not to sigh. Why did he have to have such useless siblings?

"Puzzle. It's a puzzle. And if you were smart, you would give it back to him, you know how much he cries and whines when you take away his things." Liam was a chore Pet, that meant his training taught him to be patient, but sometimes his siblings just made him want to scream. "And Master doesn't like when we play too rough with him."

For a moment the room felt silent, the three closing their mouths for completely different reasons.

Of course, Star didn't even try to hide a grin when they remembered what had happened last time, it had been so funny; Leo stared at the floor, Master got really angry that one time; and Liam focused on the broth he was cooking, he learned from that mistake, it wasn't going to happen ever again.

"What's the problem, though? He can't complain. You know what we should try? We could push him down the stairs and tell Master-"

"Stop it. Lying to Master is wrong."

"It was a hypothetical question! I would never do that." Yeah, of course they wouldn't. Star would go as far as to make him bleed, just to get a little more attention from Master.

Liam couldn't be bothered by his sibling's words. It was useless to try arguing with them, or even try to make them act properly.

The broth Liam was preparing for the day smelled good, maybe it needs salt, but Liam knows Master will like it.

While he is at it, he couldn't help but think about that new Pet.

It's from a shelter, and it's way too obvious that the shelter was the worst Master could find in miles. On top of that the Pet had been thrown out by its former master, and that just meant it wasn't a good Pet.

Liam knows full well Master likes taking in charity chards to help them. Star and him are proof of that, but still. Liam couldn't get around the idea of why Master decided to take them in.

The soft smell of food allowed himself to wander in his memories. Former Mistress would never take those ugly looking Pets, she would scowl and call them strays. She would swear that she would never take in a second hand Pet, Lu was enough. Lu was enough...

"Liam! What are you doing?!"

The voice of Master brought Lu- Liam, out of his head and back to the present. What was he doing? He was just... Pouring the broth down the sink, the hot pot was burning his hands.

"Omg, Liam! Dear, what happened?" Master hurried to his side, taking the pot off his hands and placing it on the sink. All the food wasted...

"I... I'm sorry, Master. I don't know..."

"I can help, Master. If... If that's okay?" The new Pet was right behind Master. It was wearing that cute sweater Liam liked the moment he saw Master buy it.

What was it doing? Why did it have to be with Master? Its filthy hands would touch Master house and dirty everything.

Liam felt dizzy, everything was spinning around him...

"I think he's going to pass out..."

"Shut up, we have to do something!"

His siblings worried voices keep Liam awake, for a few more seconds at least.

He didn't even realize Master was carrying him. That was good. He was good. He was enough.

Taglist:

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@sola-whumping

@octopus-reactivated

@risk606

[whumpiswonderful]

Hello whump lovers!

I made a side blog! (@nerdygirl2023 is my main/fandom blog. Mostly about epic the musical. Go check it out!)

Anyway fell down whump rabbit hole and I wanted into this community immediately so- here I am!

So uh for pinned posts I guess I do all my favorite tropes? Right?

Nightmares

Used as bait

Kidnapped and rescued in general really

Ptsd whumpee in general too

Caretaker x whumpee (I live for wife comforting husband ok?)

Ummm I will come back and keep adding to this list as I find more tropes these are just my top favorites/ all I could think of right now

Ngl I kinda didn’t realize whump prompts were their own thing I usually think of fandoms when I do whump. So- list of fandoms i would love to do whump for? (Or just names of pairing I would do and small tidbits about them

Hamilton!! (Whumpee: alex caretaker: eliza tidbit: alex has war and childhood ptsd and Eliza low key has a pretty privileged life but she’s super sweet and caring so she does her best)

Epic the musical/ the odyssey (whumpee could actually go back and forth between Odysseus and Penelope actually. Ody has ptsd from journey and Penelope sorta has some from suitors. Also tell having self esteem ‘em issues can be thrown into the mix too-)

I would totally do whump for pjo but I’ve only read the first series I’m not caught up on hoo but I could try!

I think that’s it??? Of course I’ll do just general non charicter specific whump too. Fandom stuff mostly for hurt comfort really. 9/10 hurt comfort is for them But PLEASE ASK FOR WHUMP FROM MY FANDOMS IM BEGGING!!!

Oh oh! I do have another whump OC I could do too! I just uh- don’t have names for them. Lol send suggestions? They are a Spy x sweet girl that-secretly -has-a-past-of-her-own (she wasn’t involved in his past spy life… until whumper did the thing)

[blackberry-bloody]

"You still think your little caretaker will save you? How adorable!" With Rupert???

CW: Drugging (off screen), creepy/intimate whumper, implied future noncon at the end, whumpee's really bad self esteem

Let me know if there's anything else I need to tag!

This was a really interesting one!! /Positive

Prompt from here

---

Everything felt fuzzy. It was warm, inviting, familiar. Dayzel was lost in the haze of nothingness that weighed his limbs down. He was vaguely aware of the fact he was laying down in bed, tucked securely under blankets, and pressed against something even warmer. Distantly, he recognized it as a person he was pressed against.

A soft smile tugged at his cracked lips as he pressed closer, limply shifting to wrap his arm around his boyfriend's waist, and laying his head against his chest, cuddling up closer.

A hand brushed a strand of Dayzel's long hair out his face, before gently cupping his cheek. He chuckled and playfully tilted his head to kiss the hand with a chuckle.

"What time did you let me sleep 'til Mib? My body feels like it's been -" His voice trailed off as slowly he became more aware. And he heard a low laugh from the man he was curled against. It wasn't Mibium's laugh.

His eyes snapped open. Immediately regretting it as the lights hurt his eyes, making him squint against the harshness. He lurched back at Rupert's blurry face came in view. Though Rupert was much quicker, shifting to grab Dayzel's wrist and harshly pull him flush against him.

Sluggishly, Dayzel tried to yank himself away. But he couldn't budge. It didn't take him long to realize that Rupert had drugged him. He grit his teeth, his fangs glinting in the light. "If you don't let me go it five seconds I will tear your throat -"

"You still think Mibium is coming to save you?" Rupert calmly asked. As though he were simply asking how Dayzel had slept.

Dayzel froze for a moment, before giving another futile tug against Rupert's grip. He met his eyes with an icy glare. "Of course not... "

Rupert hummed as though thinking. Inching closer to Dayzel. Leaning in to whisper in his ear. "How adorable..." He was so close now, Dayzel's lips grazed his neck. As though daring him to make good on the threat. Both of them knowing he wouldn't.

Dayzel clenched his fists. "I... I don't. Of course I don't..." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Another hum from Rupert, Dayzel could feel it against his mouth.

"You say that... But you're subconscious seems to think otherwise." Dayzel doesn't even have to see him, but he can hear the smirk in Rupert's voice as he speaks.

He wants to protest... He does. But there's something in him that stops him. Something that still believes that maybe... Just maybe Mibium cared enough about him to come after him?

"Let's rectify that, shall we? I don't want you getting all confused. Or worse, mopey, when inevitably you're disappointed again." Rupert shifts again, shifting Dayzel along with him. To where Dayzel is laying flat on his back, pinned underneath the taller man. "Just to make sure we're all on the same page."

Rupert pulls back and Dayzel can see a wild hunger in his eyes and knows what's coming. He thinks for a moment to keep struggling. To kick and thrash and spit. But he's so... So tired. So he closes his eyes as Rupert leans down to kiss him.

"Why would anyone else put up with you?" Rupert asks, though he isn't expecting an answer.

Dayzel can only think to himself... "I don't know..."

[whumpwillow]

characters learning how much they’re appreciated!!!

could be an outcast member, a former enemy, or just someone with a whole lot of self-worth issues

thinks they don’t mean much (if anything at all) to the team

they’re resigned to it, even as loneliness claws at their throat and they desperately want to feel important, to feel loved and accepted

then something happens to them and the team goes feral trying to save them

the team gets the whumpee to safety and are all so concerned, so angry that someone would dare to hurt one of their own

and whumpee realizes for the first time: they are one of their own. they’re part of the team. and the team cares about and appreciates them, and would do anything to keep them safe.

[pigeonwhumps]

Tears

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @fuckcapitalismasshole @ghost-whump @whump-tr0pes @rainbowsandwhumperflies @whumpinggrounds @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Phoenix's POV of this piece by @i-eat-worlds! Joseph belongs to them, and pretty much all of the dialogue is taken from that piece.

Joseph has to give Phoenix medical treatment in a room with Abbie right next door. Set when Kai has just been transferred back to his original team, and Joseph is still pretty much a stranger to Phoenix.

2.1k

CWs: hero whump, immortal whumpee, hospital setting, panic attacks, low self-esteem (approaching self-hatred really), abuse, whumpee thinks they deserve punishment, caretaker new whumper, begging

Phoenix isn't entirely sure where they are.

Abbie's angry and Aaron was here and they think they're somewhere in medbay where they shouldn't be, especially with Abbie here, but they don't know exactly where and now they're just in a room and they want to curl up and cry and sleep and heal but they can't because they're not safe, Abbie's angry, and she's going to punish them and she'll punish them even more if they're asleep first.

But they didn't pay enough attention to where they were going and now they're not sure anyway. All they know is that Abbie's next door, a fact that pours ice down their spine whenever they remember.

When their doorknob turns they press further into the corner of the room and bury their head further in their arms despite knowing they shouldn't, legs tucked in. They know their exposed skin must look like a messed up TV but they can't shove it down and they can't cover it so they just know they're going to get punished even more for it.

They can't do anything right. They can't even cry quietly. They're trying but they just can't stop, it's stupid and childish but they can't help it.

The footsteps are so loud in the quiet of the room, and whoever it is stops in front of them. They don't dare look. Maybe they can pretend nobody's there.

Words come at them. Words that Phoenix can't understand, even though they should, even though not responding will just make everything worse but they can't help it. All they can think about is Abbie in the next room, the punishment they're already getting for getting her injured, she's injured, it's their fault, and they're making things worse by even being here, let alone everything else, and, and–

"Please, please, I'm sorry. Don't tell Abbie, please, don't let her know, I'm sorry, I promise, sir. Please."

They don't really know what they're saying, all apologies and begging as if that'll help, but they have to tell this person somehow. The man has a reassuring smile in his voice and Phoenix doesn't think he gets it.

"I won't tell her. I just wanna help you."

Phoenix sobs. He doesn't get it. It'll hurt if he helps.

"If she…if she sees me like this, she'll…she'll–" They've been stopping themself imagining the specifics up until now but now they can't help it, with the cuffs and the dark and the walls closing in and how bad will it be this time, how much will it hurt? "Please…'m sorry."

"I believe that you're sorry, and I'm not going to…punish you?" It sounds a little like a question, but it's firm, and Phoenix feels themself calm a little. It's not really this man they're worried about hurting them anyway. And they can't do anything about Abbie yet, not if people won't just let them leave. "Aaron asked me to come help you. He's worried about the injury on your leg."

Phoenix swallows, all previous reassurances gone at that. Their injury. It's fine, they shouldn't even be here for that, they're immortal, and if Abbie finds out... they shudder. The last thing they need to be is an inconvenience.

"I'm sorry, please, sir. I know it's an inconvenience. I'm sorry for wasting your time. I can handle it on my own. Please. I know my place. I won't waste. I won't. Please."

Waste of materials, waste of time, waste of space... despite what Aaron says, they know being treated here is a waste, and Abbie will kill them for it, especially after what they caused. It's all their fault.

The man is quiet for a minute. Reconsidering. Realising that they're right, for once in their life.

"I know it's scary, but can you trust me, just for a little bit? I'm not going to hurt you."

He reminds them very strongly of Aaron. But they still don't know him, and he has no reason not to punish them except for his word (and does punishment even count as hurting?). Their vision blurs and they blink fiercely.

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, I'm gonna have to touch you for this. Is that okay?"

Phoenix braces themself, actually looking up now, moving their arms out of the way. This person looks... familiar, somehow, although they're not sure where from.

"Yes, sir."

"I know you can't really stand right now, so I'm going to help get over to the exam table. That cool?"

He places a warm hand on their knee and smiles, for some reason. They start to unfurl, knowing they need to, even though they can barely stand to. He could– he could do anything to them if they're not protecting themself.

He could do anything if they are.

"Yes, sir."

"So, first, I’m gonna put my arms around you, and then lift you up. You can use your good leg to help. It’s completely okay if you need to lean on me for support while I help you onto the exam table."

They appreciate him talking them through this. He's being good to them, he really doesn't need to be, he could just do it or not do anything at all and whatever he did Phoenix would deserve it. They failed, Abbie got injured, and– and–

"Can you put your arms on my shoulders?"

They obey. They should always obey, if they know what's good for them, although they deserve to be punished anyway. They got Abbie hurt and they're in medbay and oh fuck, they're so dead later. If Abbie doesn't kill them herself Indigo or Segun will and it'll hurt and burn and everything will be empty and it'll be entirely their fault.

Why do they have to be so useless?

"I'm gonna lift now. Just as a warning, it might hurt."

Phoenix clings on as the man lifts them, losing balance and falling onto his chest.

"'m sorry."

"You're alright. I'm going to get you up on the table now."

That first part must be a lie, nobody would find it okay for them to be so needy and useless, but they let him lift them onto the table, depositing them gently. Too gently.

"Can you lay down for me? You're doing great."

No they're not. They do as he asks with a whimper, eyes tearing up.

"Thank you, sir."

"Not a problem." He gives them a weird sort of half-smile that they don't deserve. "I'm gonna look at your wound now, okay?"

Phoenix nods, tracking Joseph carefully with their eyes. This is going to hurt, it already hurts, and what's more, he shares Aaron's weird tendency to give them treatment. Medical treatment, that other people need, that they're not allowed, with Abbie right next door, and–

"You… you don't need to do that. It'll heal. I don't wanna be a waste. If she… if she found out�� it, um, it'd be bad. I'll heal, sir. I promise I'll heal."

He knows that. He knows that. He has to know that. And the healing is all that matters, so they can continue working.

"It's not a waste to treat you, Phoenix. You deserve medical care just as much as any other hero, but I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to."

That's not true, other heroes aren't immortal or a waste of space, but they can tell from his tone that he won't be persuaded. All they can do is pray she doesn't find out.

"Please don't tell her sir."

"I won't, kid, I promise. I do need to look at it though, I'll do my best to be quick."

Phoenix nods once, doing their best to stave off nausea at the thought of Abbie next door, so close, while they disobey her. She's going to punish them so severely and they'll deserve it so much. They try to watch as the doctor comes near him with the shears but then he's out of sight, and they try not to remember how sharp they are. Aaron's sent him, he– he won't–

"That has to hurt. I'll get you hooked up to some pain meds and then I'll clean it and bandage it, okay?"

Phoenix nods again, feeling cool air on their skin and watching him gather supplies. "Yes, sir."

"Can I have your arm? I'm gonna put a line in. It'll hurt a little bit, but it'll be quick."

Phoenix moves their arm out as much as they dare. It's not like they have much of a choice now they've agreed to this – he can always yank their arm away. But they feel so vulnerable and unprotected without it across their torso. They watch as he inserts a cannula into the crook of their elbow.

"I'm gonna give you something to help with the pain."

No! No, he can't, it's not allowed and Abbie is right there and–

"You don't need to do that, sir. I don't want to waste. You can save them for heroes that need them. I'll, um, I'll be okay."

"It's not a waste. We have plenty of meds, and we're nowhere near close to running out. I don't want you to be in pain when I treat you."

Phoenix attempts to wrap themself up, curl away their weaknesses and vulnerabilities, but their arm gets caught. They don't... they don't deserve painkillers. They'll be fine without them. And what if other, more deserving heroes need them?

But they're not sure they have the energy to argue any further. They just hope no-one tells Abbie how much they've wasted.

"O... okay, sir."

The doctor smiles at them and prepares, but–

"How dare you! Don't you know who I am?"

Her voice echoes around the room, through their head, and they curl up, whimpering. Yes, yes they know who she is, they shouldn't be having this, they know they don't deserve it, they're sorry, they're sorry!

Her grip is tight, hot, bruising, and they know, they know!

"Phoenix, can you look up for me?"

Of course they can. Why's she phrasing the order like a question, she never does that.

Through their blurred vision they see Abbie... no, this other doctor... standing over them. That makes more sense then. Even so, they flinch away from him. There's no way he appreciated that display of patheticness.

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you feel better if we went somewhere else? I can ask Tori, the charge nurse about it."

They know Tori. They like her. And they don't want to cause any more trouble for anyone. It wouldn't be fair, and they're in enough trouble as it is.

"You... you don't need to do that. I'm sorry for making a scene, sir."

Abbie will find out. She always finds out when they disobey or cause trouble. And then she's going to take it out on them.

They know that certainty down to their bones, just as they know that Aaron's friend will one day take her side, start punishing them himself. Aaron himself probably too. There's no way they won't.

"It wouldn't be too hard, and I don't mind at all. I want to make sure you feel safe so that I can help, yeah? I want to help."

Why would he want to help? It doesn't make sense. Is Aaron making them? Regardless, they don't want to push it, they can't risk Abbie seeing them, and their leg hurts so, so much, they're not sure they can move anyway.

"I'm sorry, sir," they whisper hoarsely. God, they're such a inconvenience. "Can I stay, please? It hurts to move."

Because at least that reason is less of a pathetic excuse than avoiding punishment.

"Alright. I'm gonna go ahead and give you the pain meds so I can start working on your leg, yeah?"

Phoenix nods. They start to drift in and out, drowsy, keeping half-lidded eyes on the doctor as he works. He says something else, they're not sure what. The feeling is unnerving.

The painkillers can't last forever though, and they whimper when he prods at the wound.

"I'm gonna flush it out real quick, and then I'll put a bandage over it to keep it clean."

Phoenix frowns, tiredness starting to catch up with them. They can't let it take over, but it's been a long day. And since they arrived in medbay nothing has made sense.

The question slips out before they can stop it.

"If… um... can... I… can I ask why you're… doing this?"

The doctor looks up at them, surprise written all over his features. Like, somehow, he wouldn't consider not doing it. But that can't be right.

"Because I don't like seeing others in pain."

"Oh." They count in that then. That's nice. "Um, thank you, sir."

He smiles gently (that will never stop feeling unnatural).

"Always, kid. Always."

[whump-blog]

i think nearly a year ago you wrote a drabble about a pet whumpee and their old friend caretaker. could you write a continuation of that? maybe there is some more progress in the recovery, maybe whumpee starts to recognize their friend… <3

Hello anon, thank you for sending this ask. I really enjoy it when someone is interested in something I write enough to want to read more.

I'm sorry I haven't answered sooner, I've been very busy these last two months. But I swear I started writing this second part the same day you sent me this request.

Thank you and I hope you're still around here to read this :D

CW: catatonic whumpee, low self-esteem, fear, angst, feelings of guilt, past pet whump, recovery whump

Part 1

The days in Caretaker's house seemed to affect Whumpee. Headaches and sudden flashes in the middle of everyday actions had been increasing over the last few months.

Today Whumpee had been tidying the house, cleaning as he did every Monday. Leaving everything perfect for the person who gave everything for him.

And then as Whumpee swept the floor looking distantly at Caretaker, something happened, the event was unexpected and sudden.

It was the light, maybe? The time of day? The smell? The atmosphere? Or something that Whumpee couldn't explain. But the sight of Caretaker standing there against the light of the window, just passing by, brought to his mind, something like a déjà vu.

But it wasn't just that, no, it was something stronger, the image that entered the retina of Whumpee's eyes stiffened him.

Everything seemed to come together. The flashes he had been having, the headaches and the disjointed images and sounds that came and went out of nowhere came together like pieces of a puzzle to give him the answer he hadn't been looking for.

It all seemed to make sense. And Caretaker, as usual, was quick to notice Whumpee's startled face.

"Whumpee?" called Caretaker.

The broom slipped from Whumee's hands, and he stared blankly. In shock. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, and the world seemed too much. Overwhelming. And then the information frenzy stopped.

Caretaker ran towards him, but Whumpee was no longer present.

-----

Whumpee had been catatonic after recovering his memories. During which time, Caretaker had had to care for him almost as much as the day Whumpee had arrived at his home.

Whumpee spends all day in bed, looking out of the window, but seeing nothing. He eats when Caretaker puts food in his mouth and lets himself be carried away so that his friend can give him a bath. It is not that he is not objecting; it is simply that Whumpee is not there.

Eventually one day, as Caretaker was putting Whumpee to bed, Whumpee reacted. He came back as suddenly as he had left. He grabbed Caretaker by the wrist as he was about to leave the room. Whumpee pulled him by the arm and hugged him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Emotions burning in his chest, he shed only a few tears that were enough to accept the forgotten truth.

Caretaker could no longer contain himself either, and decided to share the moment of release of long-held anguish with his friend.

-----

After that, life went on as before Whumpee regained his memories, almost as if nothing had happened. Whumpee and Caretaker went back to their routines. Only now, while watching TV, eating dinner or cleaning the house they could talk about the old days, their adventures together and the times they had shared before Whumpee was turned into a pet.

Anyone would have thought that the worst was over, now Whumpee had nothing to fear. His friend who had always been by his side would not let anything bad happen to him, and Whumpee knew that.

But there was something else, as the days passed a deep fear grew in Whumpee's mind. He knew that now that he had recovered his memories, he would have to leave. Go back to his old life. The thought disturbed him, and Whumpee could not accept that truth and face Caretaker.

How could he be so ungrateful? Even now that he had all the pieces of his life, he decided to refuse to do what he was supposed to do. Pack his bags and stop living off Caretaker's work, but instead of doing that he continued, like a parasite, to take advantage of Caretaker's kindness.

Then, like the cowardly worm he was, he began to do everything in his power to make sure Caretaker wanted him in his home. He cleaned every day, always cooked for Caretaker, ironed the clothes, made the beds and saw that everything was perfect.

Caretaker of course noticed this, but Whumpee brushed it off. He excused himself by saying that he enjoyed doing something in return for all that Caretaker did for him, besides, he was in the house all day anyway!

And things, for a while, seemed to be going according to plan until one day they weren't.

Despite all his efforts, the stress of what might happen in the future had been building up in Whumpee, causing him to make a mistake that day, a simple mistake, a stupid mistake that had resulted in revealing the secret he had wanted to keep from Caretaker.

He had forgotten to turn off the water in the sink when he had finished washing the dishes, and it had ended up overflowing. The floor was soaking wet and Caretaker was about to arrive home.

The situation reminded Whumpee of what had happened in the first few weeks at Caretaker's house, when Whumpee had not yet recovered his memories. And just as the day of the burnt dinner incident, Caretaker arrived in the middle of the disaster.

And at that instant when Caretaker crossed the threshold Whumpee burst into tears, kneeling on the wet floor, his tears mixing with the water that was spreading everywhere.

Caretaker lifted him off the floor and carried him out of the kitchen. Sitting him on the living room couch.

"Wait here," said Caretaker, leaving Whumpee, who was listening to the footsteps on the wet floor. Caretaker had returned to the kitchen to turn off the tap and once again solve all the problems Whumpee was causing.

When Caretaker returned to Whumpee's side, he was still crying, only now silently. His elbows on his knees and his face staring at the carpet on the floor. Caretaker knelt in front of him to gain access to his eyes, the entrance to what words could not convey.

"Whumpee, you know it's all right, there's nothing serious going on that can't be fixed. You know me, you know I'm not going to get angry or hurt you." Caretaker tried to explain as he always did, with simple, comforting words.

Whumpee cried harder after those words. Knowing that Caretaker deserved an explanation and not for Whumpee to add to the sadness he had already brought him since he came back into his life.

"It's…it's just…it's just… I… I… I-" Whumpee continued to sob, unable to utter his thoughts, "It's not perfect…" he finally admitted.

"It's okay whumpee it doesn't have to be perfect… everybody makes mistak-"

"No, it's not; you don't understand… you… if it's not perfect… now that I have my memories... there's no excuse, there's no reason for me to be here-" Whumpee broke down again as the cards were laid out on the table. Now he just had to listen to his destiny.

Caretaker said nothing, from where he was kneeling in front of Whumpee he just watched him with a perplexed expression. He stared at nothing for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, but when he looked back at Whumpee he did not say a word. His face showed understanding and no words were needed as Caretaker took Whumpee in his arms and the two shared a moment of a warmth that no person could have put into words.