The url says it all, really. This is a reblog blog so few if any of the posts will be my own. Occasionally things unrelated to whump end up in here as well. WARNING: This blog will contain whump and mature content that might not all get tagged. Scroll at your own risk. 18+ advised.
whumpee is sexually assaulted by whumper but whumper is incredibly desirable and everyone lusts after them so whumpee is left to feel like they were "lucky" whumper chose them
when whumpee and caretaker arrive at the motel, caretaker is surprised to discover that the last of the rooms have been taken, so they have to opt for the only one left. it's getting too late to go look for another motel.
they're on a business trip, and since they've already eaten, it takes the two of them no time to get ready for bed, their event being early in the morning. caretaker shuffles their feet awkwardly, thinking of how to bring up the issue. maybe they should just offer to sleep on the mattress lying by the foot of the bed?
but when whumpee enters the room, they simply go lie down on the mattress. without even asking.
feeling awkward and confused, caretaker choses to ignore it, happy that they can go straight to sleep. it takes no time for them to pass out as soon as their head hits the pillow.
they are woken by quiet whimpering from somewhere in their periphery. opening their eyes, it takes them a moment to adjust to the dim lighting cast by the streetlamps outside, and when they do, they find whumpee pressed to the furthest wall, curled up and clutching at their blanket tightly.
unsure of what to do next, they try calling out for them. when that doesn't work, they lower themself to the floor, trying to shake whumpee awake. between one blink and the next, their coworker has hit the wall in an attempt to get away from them. they're mumbling something nearly indecipherable, but they can make out don't, and please, and hurt.
Staring at the ceiling, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything.
Crying and screaming, not being able to deal with it anymore, but also not being able to get away from it.
Breathing through it and feeling some relief. Okay. I can do this. I'm still in control. I can still handle this. Just breathe. Just focus on your breathing.
Breathing through it and feeling no relief at all. Slowly losing your grip on your coping mechanisms. Decending into panic and desperation. Hyperventilating.
Doing okay with the pain until one small extra thing suddenly completely sends you over the edge.
Rocking back and forth. Trying to sooth yourself and distract yourself. Fidgeting. Biting your lip. Bitting your nails.
Pulling on your hair to create new pain to distract you from the existing one.
Getting dizzy and nauseous just from the pain.
Drifting in and out of consciousness. Welcoming the softening edges of the pain as you're slowly drifting off.
Constant chronic pain that might not be that severe but becomes completely overwhelming to your mind simply because its always there.
Sharp unexpected blunt pain that suprises you and makes you yell out, all of your brain consumed by the sudden wave of agony as adrenaline rushes through your system and you're awareness completely shrinks to the sensation or the injury.
Nervously preparing yourself for pain that's about to come. Trying really hard to stay calm. Trying to remember what helps you get through it. Trying not to give into the rising panic in your chest.
content: aftermath of whump, recovery fic, comfort, nonsexual nudity, self-deprecation
Whumpee didn't realise just how disgusted they were with themself for the state they were in until they got to Caretaker's house. The house was clean and tidy â Whumpee was not. They were dirty, with greasy hair, pants soiled from fear and lack of access to a proper bathroom. They were disgusting.
But they didn't dare ask for a bath. They just stood in the doorway, afraid of dirtying their saviour's house, shifting their weight from one leg to the other.
"Come in," Caretaker said gently.
"I can't."
Caretaker furrowed their brows. "But we agreed I'd let you stay here. No?"
"Yeah, but..." They made a vague gesture towards themself, their dirty clothes, their revolting hair.
"Oh," Caretaker said, like they'd only just noticed. "That's a simple fix. I have fresh clothes for you, and you can take a nice, warm bath. You can use my bodywash and shampoo. That'll do, right?"
Whumpee nodded mutely. It was more than they deserved.
"Great," Caretaker said with a smile. "Come in, then. I'll show you to the bathroom."
"Ah, there's... There's one more... one more thing," they stammered, afraid to voice their concern.
"What is it?"
"My arms... Whumper kept me tied up most of the time. Now they hurt so bad, I don't think I can lift them to wash my hair..." It was embarrassing. Humiliating. But Caretaker didn't make fun of them for it.
"I can help you wash your hair, if that's okay with you," they offered easily.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. I'm here to help."
Whumpee felt tears pricking their eyes. Caretaker was so nice. "Okay," they said quietly. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. Let's go."
They agreed on the following plan: Whumpee would rinse themself off, then they would fill the bath with nice, warm water. Once they were ready, they'd call in Caretaker, who would help them wash their hair.
So Whumpee did that. The amount of dirt and grime flowing down the drain during that rinse was absolutely foul. But then, when they filled the bathtub with warm water and actually just... lay there... submerged... oh... that was heavenly. It had been so long since they'd taken a proper bath.
"Caretaker?" they called after a bit, once the bubbles seemed plentiful enough to cover their disgusting body.
"Can I come in?"
"Yes. Please."
Caretaker opened the door and stepped inside. They didn't make it weird. They grabbed a stool and pulled it to the end of the bathtub where Whumpee's head was, and sat down. "Okay, I'll be very gentle."
"I'm sorry you have to do this," they muttered.
"Nonsense. Just relax and enjoy. I've been told I give nice scalp massages."
So Whumpee shut up and let Caretaker work their magic. And man, yes, whoever said that had been absolutely right. Caretaker's fingers were gentle yet firm, and Whumpee closed their eyes, quietly enjoying. It felt like a guilty pleasure. Like they didn't deserve it â which yeah, they absolutely didn't. But Caretaker was so kind. So generous.
They jolted awake when Caretaker turned on the water from the showerhead. Had they dozed off?
"Oops, sorry," Caretaker said with a little laugh. "Did I scare you?"
"No, no, it's okay."
"Okay."
Caretaker shampooed and rinsed their hair twice, just to get everything out. Then, like they hadn't just performed a strangely intimate and wonderfully benevolent act, they just stood up, told Whumpee to take as much time as they needed, and left.
That was that. Whumpee was flabbergasted. They had never met anyone so... selfless.
They stayed in the bath for what felt like another hour, feeling the water around them grow cold. Then they got out, towelled themself dry, put their hair up in a towel-turban, and put on the fresh clothes Caretaker had laid out for them.
They felt... clean. Restored.
They stopped at the bathroom door, hand lingering on the handle. It was okay. They weren't in a rush. And Caretaker was kind. It was okay.
They pushed down and exited. They found Caretaker on the sofa in the living room.
"Whumpee!" they said with a smile. "You look so much better. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes," they said with a tentative smile. "Thank you. I... I haven't been this clean in months. This has been wonderful."
"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that. Wanna watch a movie while your hair dries?"
Caretaker reached out, but halfway through it changed their mind and let their hand fall back to their side. "Why? Why did you just disappear?"
Whumpee didn't look emotional. Caretaker wondered if this encounter was just a nuisance to them. "You're from before. That's what my life is now: before and after. And I'm living in the after."
writing a stoic character who had a spiked drink and now they're in a complete daze, vulnerable and relying on the one person they trust to keep them safe except that one person is also stoic but trying their best to provide care
Whumper becoming so so nice to Whumpee once theyâre broken inâapologizing for their previous behavior/actions, even. They really are so sorry for having been so rough on Whumpee at first. Isnât it so much nicer when Whumpee is compliant? If they hadnât been so oppositional, things could have been like this from the beginning!
"Did you enjoy your time with them?" Whumper asked, standing behind them with his hands on their shoulders. "Playing house?"
Whumpee didn't say a thing.
"You must've known it couldn't last," Whumper pressed, softly stroking the nape of their neck, curling a finger through their hair. "And even if you refused to see reality, they must have known."
A soft sound escaped in the back of Whumpee's throat. Yes, they had enjoyed their time with the team. They had nursed them back to health, they were kind and concerned, and gave them a place with them, unconditionally. But something always nagged in the back of their mind: they didn't belong there.
Whumper sat down next to them on the couch, nudging them along to sit in his lap. Which they did, reluctantly. Gentle hands molded them to a lazy position, back resting against the armrest, legs sprawled over his.
"This is where you belong," he whispered, lips brushing their cheek. A small drop of salt caught against them and Whumpee felt a smile forming.
"They'll... they'll come back for me," they hiccupped and tilted their head away, leaning against his chest.
"Oh, darling," he said, actual sympathy in his voice. "I don't think they will." He shifted them up a little, stretching his legs out under them and pressing them higher up against his shoulder.
"You were just a stray. You werenât a member of the team. No matter how hard you tried. Your insistence must have annoyed them so much. I know how desperate you can be. It can be... overbearing. They must be glad that you're gone." He brushed a tear away. "Now, I am very happy to have you back."
Tears now streamed silently down their trembling chin.
"It's okay. They just don't understand, baby. Did they think you were just desperate to please? To earn your place among them? Always doing whatever they said as gratitude for taking you in?"
Whumpee shook their head in denial.
Whereas Whumper just smiled above them, twisting the knife with every word he spoke. "No, youâre right. It wasnât in gratitude, now was it? It was fear. Pure fear that they would send you away if you didnât. Punish you if you didnât. You may think that being away from me sets you free but⊠well, I think this was a valuable lesson.â
"You're the one who is playing house," Whumpee muttered darkly, the earlier words still stung.
"What was that?"
They flinched at the sudden hard shift in tone, but looked up and repeated their words. "It's true. You want me to be your puppet in your dollhouse, caught in your strings. Forcing me to do as you say, behave as you say. You can't keep me here forever."
âAnd who do you think will keep me from doing just that? Your band of heroes?â he sneered, his smug words turning mocking.
"They saved m--"
"They found you. Just a chance meeting snooping around my compound. And not finding anything useful, they decided to take you with them, hoping to use you, see what they could learn from you. And you gave them nothing but trouble. They wonât come back for you.â
Whumpee opened their mouth to retort the harsh words, but a single finger on their chin shut them up. His finger moved over their lips in a shushing gesture and Whumper continued in a more morose tone:
âStealing from me and now they have the gall to return damaged goods.â
âWhaâ?â Whumpee looked up at those words, hurt and confused. âDamaged? What do you mean damaged? They didnât hurt me!â
âA few weeks with them and suddenly youâre talking back.â
He shoved their legs aside and let them fall back against the couch as he roughly stood and walked across the room. âAll that time and effort⊠and now I have to start all over again.â He rummaged about and when he turned, Whumpee froze when they saw he was holding a whip.
âBut we both know weâll get back to where we wereâŠâ He let the tip of the whip fall to the ground. âEasily.â
âI'm sorry!â whumpee says, desperately trying to think of what they could have done to deserve this. âI'm sorry, please, I'll be better, please I'm so sorry-â
âHey, no, none of that.â Hands frame their face ever so gently, thumbs brushing the tears away. âYou're doing everything right, sweetie. You're so perfect for me.â
They might not have realised it yet, but whumpee has none nothing wrong. There is nothing to apologise for. There is nothing they can do to make the pain stop.
Lord knows I love sibling whump, so hereâs a hyper-specific prompt:
The older sibling briefly goes missing, only to be found shortly after by the rest of the group. Everything seems fine, until the younger sibling excitedly rushes into the room, freezes as they spot the thing that looks like their older sibling, and refuses to go anywhere near them.
What if you were replaced by something Other and the only one who could tell was too young to be taken seriously. What if the person you looked up to and counted on to protect you is still missing, and nobody believes you. what then.
Don't get me wrong, I do like complex villains as much as the next person. But sometimes I just want my protagonist to be tortured by Badguy McEvil who has no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
Defiant Whumpee is slouching against the concrete wall, covered in fresh bruises and blood. They don't have the energy to move at all and everything hurts. Still, they didn't break. They didn't give a kick during the beating. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't beg. Didn't make a single sound.
It's driving Whumper crazy that they can't get a reaction out of Whumpee. After yet another unsuccessful torture session they storm out of the basement. In their anger they don't pay attention to the low doorframe and bang their head against it, hard. "Ahh!" They yell out.
Whumpee chuckles.
Whumpee chuckles.
The first sound that Whumper gets out of Whumpee, and it's a chuckle of amusement because of Whumper's pain.
Whumper sees red. They turn around, more enraged than they have ever been in all their life.
"Oh you're gonna regret this," they snarl, an almost murderous look in their eyes.
Whumpee quickly whipe the smirk from their face, willing their eyes not to betray what they feel deep inside.
Crap, I've done it now.
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