Hi, it’s me, Angel, welcome to my whump blog! You can refer to me with any pronouns including neo pronouns, it/its and throne/thrones
This post will be edited as necessary to include boundaries, icks, rules, etc. This is a whump blog, it should go without saying that you should expect heavy content. Mature, violent and potentially triggering. I’ll do my best to tag everything, but if I miss something tell me politely.
My ask box is always open!! Come be weird with me!
Beneath the cut will be my masterlist for all prompts, drabbles and stories I write, including requests. If a request is taking a while to get done, please be patient, these are not commissions, this blog is for fun
RULES AND BOUNDARIES
These are being explicitly stated, you will be ignored and blocked if you break them (it’s totally okay to ask questions if you’re unsure)
I will not write:
—rape (there may be references or implications after the fact but that’s pushing it. That’s all)
Tag List
#whump resources —> medical with sources, may include diagrams, real pictures and art of injuries
#graphic depictions of violence —> like ao3 this is for anything I think might disturb as well as any art or real images. If you think something I didn’t tag with this should be, let me know
Trigger warning tags —> Done as #(subject) tw
#Angel speaks/be not afraid --> not whump prompts
MASTERLIST
These are all prompts so far, but I will write drabbles with ocs or placeholder titles. Beautiful banners by @cafekitsune unless stated otherwise
If you’re curious about my ocs, here’s a post about them! ( coming soon)
(several of these links were posted under my main don’t mind that)
I Tried to Scream
Torture
More torture
Nightmares
Great Show!
Day on the Town
-age regressed whumpee
Please
-(TW! Encouraging Suicide)
Friend or Foe
Whumper Infiltrates Whumpee's Friendgroup prompts
Betrayal
Blood
-(TW! Self harm)
Overworking
More Overworking
Healer
Injuries!!
Horns!
Unnamed (sorry)-- (1) (2) (3) (4)
--Bloodbag sickness whump (uhh I forgot to title it)
@everything-you-feel-is-real I know by tumblr tradition that I'm to say "impossible, my posts never blow up like that," or "please don't do this to me."
But I feel in my bones that you are right. If this is to be my wife's moment of glory, I am willing to suffer notification overload, that the world may know she is funny. #MyFunnyWife
I need that character screaming until their throat is sore, thrashing, pleading to just- get off of me, let me go, no don’t, I hate you, make it stop. Especially when they’re normally so composed and quiet when they react to things, if they react at all
I think emotional whump is really tasty and something I wish we saw more is character seeing/overhearing/being present for/watching in secret whatever another character doing something protective and caring for another character, and thinking there’s no one who would do that for them.
It can be done with a bitter resentment or a sad but accepting smile, just happy for others who deserve it more than them somehow. Maybe they lost their person. Maybe the person they thought that was betrayed them. Maybe it’s their fault. Maybe they’re envious and upset that the character they want would do that for someone else but not them. Or maybe they’re just an extra. Useless. No one loves them like that to begin with.
And this is so lovely because it doesn’t matter if it’s a pretty big thing like breaking a character out of jail or something, or a basic level of care and commitment to someone else, it’s still good both ways
need That character absolutely delirious with fear. recoiling from everything. unable to parse what's happening around them, their mind stuck in fight or flight. shaking and hyperventilating. completely unconsolable even as they're wrapped in a crushing hug.
Whumpee is able to provide a little too much information about Whumper during team meetings. Details that seem too personal to be dug out of research alone... the kind one would only know if they knew Whumper closely.
Team begin to suspect Whumpee is a traitor, a double agent. They stop listening to Whumpee's advice and suggestions during meetings because they think Whumpee is trying to trick them into one of Whumper's traps.
Now imagine the look on the Team's faces when they're captured because they didn't take the precautions Whumpee told them to.
Imagine the look on their faces when Whumper walks past all of them and goes straight to Whumpee because "It's so good to have you back, darling. I've missed you."
whumpee misunderstanding what are supposed to be comforting words.
"you're too weak to fight." (implied "in your state" but taken as "you're not good enough")
"it's not surprising that you'd react like this" (intended "anyone in your position would be devastated by this" but taken as "you're so predictably sensitive")
"you need to stay here. you're just going to slow the team down." (meant as "you're too ill/injured to come on this mission" but taken as "you're a burden")
i just like a caretaker with good intentions upsetting whumpee more and either feeling guilty about their phrasing or not knowing what they said wrong at all.
"I'm not quite sure you realise what is at stake here," Whumper said, casually brushing a hand over the metal tools on the tray in front of him. He tipped lightly at one of the handles with his little finger, straightening them into a neat line, as one would with a line of pencils or cutlery.
"My life," Whumpee whispered. Their voice was soft but determined. Their eyes lingered over Whumper's hand and the tools at his fingertips that looked like something a dentist would use.
"Yes, your life. But not just in the way you think. Sure, you may lose it. I might slip. You could fall at just the wrong angle or bang your head. But I won't pierce your heart or put a bullet in your head."
Satisfied with his array of tools, Whumper stepped closer to Whumpee, bound in a chair, and loomed over them.
"I mean your life in the broader sense," he continued. "This will follow you-- haunt you for the rest of your life. In the form of trauma, memories, regrets, nightmares. Scars or injuries that, if you're lucky, won't hurt or won't cripple you in some way. But that will linger on your body and in your mind, keeping you up at night. Making you lash out, or grow numb, causing you to lose yourself and the people you care about. The way you regard them and how they will see you, will change forever."
He let a long silence linger in the air, giving Whumpee time to process everything he just said.
"Or..." he started, slowly, but pushed the tray away. "You could answer a few simple questions. And keep everything else that you have."
Mute Whumpee having been forced into silence until they hear a certain “permission” code word.
Caretaker thinking that Whumpee is just mute from trauma now, and after about a week into their rescue they accidentally let that word slip and next thing they know, Whumpee is sobbing and apologizing and pleading-
Caretaker always liked the peace and quiet.
The sound of his own footsteps down an empty hallway, the creak of the floorboards beneath him, the soft whirring of the air conditioning unit in the corner. He liked the way the silence seemed to wrap around him like a blanket, shielding him from the outside world. He liked the way he could hear himself think, hear his own thoughts crystal clear when it was nice and quiet. When there were no distractions. When Caretaker could just be, without worrying about anything or anyone else.
Solitude is a blessing. Caretaker wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the whole wide world.
Caretaker used to like the peace and quiet…at least, before Whumpee fell into his lap.
The silence is now deafening, ear-piercing. The birds have stopped singing, the only sound is the wind rustling through the crunchy leaves scattered on the ground outside. The air is still and heavy, and the only movement is slow, steady drip of rainwater from the trees.
It is a silence that is full of fear and anticipation, and it is a silence that is waiting for something to happen. The quiet sounds like failure and disappointment. Another day blurs past in the blink of an eye - another day where he’s no closer to Whumpee speaking. Caretaker doesn’t even know the name of the man he rescued from the pits of hell, nor does he know his story. He doesn’t know the sound of Whumpee’s voice. If he has a family and friends, searching day and night to bring him home.
Whumpee is a mystery to Caretaker. And Caretaker is a mystery to Whumpee.
Caretaker peeks through the crack in the door, checking on Whumpee as he sleeps…on the floor. Whumpee lies huddled on the cold, hard ground, ignoring the perfectly made bed in the corner of the room. Like he’s not allowed to sleep in it. He writhes and flinches in his sleep, kicking his legs and whimpering like a dreaming dog. Whumpee is in there, somewhere, even if Caretaker can’t reach him just yet. He has tried everything he can think of, lost countless nights of sleep tossing and turning, and thought of every way to pull himself out of the darkness in his head, but nothing seems to work.
Whumpee suddenly awoke with a start, screaming and covered in cold-sweat, his eyes darting in horror around the room. Dark circles hang beneath his eyes, every inch of him vibrates in terror. When he spots Caretaker lingering in the doorway, he flinches and chokes on a sob.
“Hey, hey! Shhh, you’re okay!” Caretaker bursts through the doorway, rushing over to Whumpee’s side, “You were having another nightmare-”
Caretaker rubs Whumpee’s back as he heaves for air, “Would you like me to stay?”
Whumpee smiles, but it does not reach his teary eyes. His muscles tense like a spring about to bounce, and still he nods his head in agreement. Or submission.
Somewhere, somehow - Whumpee must understand and realise that this is safety. Caretaker is safety. His wounds and gashes are scabbing and closing, dark bruises fading into his pale skin. His belly warm and full. The dog collar strapped tight to his throat when Caretaker found him - long gone. Caretaker burned it.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I knew how to help -” Caretaker holds Whumpee's face, cupping his cheek.
There’s that damn silence again. Whumpee sniffles and wipes at his nose, refusing to even look at Caretaker now. He has all the answers, just not the words to reveal them. So close yet so far.
“I want you to know I will never hurt you, Whumpee. I just want to help… I just…I just want you to heal-”
Whumpee’s eyes go wide with horror, and he freezes like a statue. Caretaker can hear their heart racing in both their chests. Before Caretaker could stop him, Whumpee is kneeling at Caretaker’s feet, wrapping his arms around his legs, clinging like a baby koala and bursting into tears.
“Th-Thank you! Oh, thank you s-sir - thank god!” Whumpee wails, his voice deep, hoarse and scratchy. Caretaker can hardly believe his ears. It feels like a fever dream. Whumpee just spoke. What just happened?! What changed?!
“Whu-Whumpee?!” Caretaker gasps.
“I’m so sorry sir!!! I waited - and waited and…and I tried! I tried so hard to be good. I thought you’d never say it- I thought you'd never release me-”
"Release-"
"Heel. You - You told me to heel-" Whumpee slumps back onto the heels of his feet, sitting by Whumper's heels, his hands folded limp in front of his chest - begging. "My release word. I-I did good? I didn't speak, sir!!!"
