Whump blog (mainly) + other writings || sometimes nsfw, this is NOT a kink blog. i just like hurt/comfort and also coping mechanisms || he/him they/them fae/faer , 24 || WRITING RECS OPEN (also my ocs r also open to write with just @ me) || (i follow from robinspeckle)
"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 weren’t 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, you’re right. It wasn’t in gratitude, now was it? It was fear. Pure fear that they would send you away if you didn’t. Punish you if you didn’t. You may think that being away from me sets you free but… well, I think this was a valuable lesson.”
"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."
“And who do you think will keep me from doing just that? Your band of heroes?” 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 won’t come back for you.”
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:
“Stealing from me and now they have the gall to return damaged goods.”
“Wha—?” Whumpee looked up at those words, hurt and confused. “Damaged? What do you mean damaged? They didn’t hurt me!”
“A few weeks with them and suddenly you’re talking back.”
He shoved their legs aside and let them fall back against the couch as he roughly stood and walked across the room. “All that time and effort… and now I have to start all over again.” He rummaged about and when he turned, Whumpee froze when they saw he was holding a whip.
“But we both know we’ll get back to where we were…” He let the tip of the whip fall to the ground. “Easily.”
Whumpee who has severe memory loss issues after the torture they endured and whumper who delights in retelling in graphic detail everything they did to whumpee so they can’t even have the respite of being able to forget
Whumpee wasn't sure exactly what it was. It could have been the blow to the head, or the time they spent unconscious, or just their brain rebelling against the pure, unrelenting terror of it all.
Whatever the reason, the fact was that Whumpee didn't remember a thing of what had happened with Whumper. They had a few snippets, flashes of feeling -- pain, fear, helplessness -- but as far as the actual events went, there was almost nothing.
They thought Whumper might be mad. They weren't.
"Oh, Whumpee." Whumper's voice was practically a coo. "Don't you worry. I remember every second. Why don't I catch you up?"
And the launched into the story, describing every way they touched, they hit, they hurt Whumpee. Whumpee clapped their hands over their ears, not wanting to hear it, not wanting it to be true, but Whumpe easiliy pried them away.
"Uh uh. You should know this. You see this one?" Whumper yanked up Whumpee's sleeve to reveal a particularly nasty bruise. "That's where you started crying. Didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would. Do you want to know what you told me next?"
And on. And on. And on. The images bloomed in Whumpee's mind against their will, forming a twisted image of themselves, helpless and desperate and degraded.
By the time it was over, Whumpee felt hollow. Whumper could see it from the look in their eyes.
"Don't worry, Whumps. We don't do this again." Whumper gave a shark-like grin and a wink. "Next time I'll make sure to record it."
Seeing how I'm a sucker for all things "looks horrifying but is actually gentle," I don't see enough discussion about how Vampire Whumpers/Carewhumpers practice just kissing and kneading Whumpee's neck with their lips.
So often things go right to fang and bite, or an immediate denial of feeding.
But I want scenes where Whumper instructs Whumpee to do something--needlework, reading aloud, sharpening weapons, etc--something to keep their hands busy while Whumper teases, kisses and loves that sensitive spot where Whumpee's neck meets their quivering shoulder.
Never biting, never even nibbling, just breathing. Getting Whumpee used to being held, wanted. So when the time comes for Whumper to take, Whumpee doesn't feel quite so hollow afterwards.
You know what I absolutely eat up as a whump/angst premise? Timeloops.
Looping character not flinching at danger anymore because they’ve come to expect it.
Similarly: flinching at EVERYTHING or completely random triggers once they’re out of a loop, because a certain innocuous thing always meant disaster.
“You said that last time.”
“You… did not say that last time.”
Forgetting what day it’s supposed to be
Openly breaking down in front of people because it’s not like they’ll remember it tomorrow (bonus points if this is the day the loop breaks and they do, in fact, remember it tomorrow)
Having a cold or migraine on the day they wake up into the timeloop and just being stuck with it indefinitely
Letting themself get hurt because no permanent consequences or scarring, developing a freakish pain tolerance as a result
Chasing dangerous or harmful behaviours just for the thrill of something new
Going to bed with bruises or broken bones, knowing tomorrow there’ll be no evidence of what they’ve endured
Over time, their loved ones becoming scripted characters whom they feel like they’ll never really see again
Loops where they spend the entire duration in bed without tangible consequence
Post-loop they go days without sleeping or eating because they’ve forgotten they need to do things to stay alive
Never telling anyone about the loops after they’re over because who would believe them?
They let it slip one day and maybe somebody doesn’t believe them.
Whumpers who casually manhandle the whumpees, as if doing so is completely natural. They don't even think twice about it. Whumpee is trying to crawl away? Oh, just grab them by the ankle and pull them back. Whumpee's head is pointed in a suspicious direction, as if looking for an escape? Pull them by the hair so their eyes are forced away. Trying to yell for help? Put them in a chokehold, without so much as a change in expression.
Just little things that reinforce the power dynamics and show how helpless Whumpee truly is. For them, it's Hell on Earth. For Whumper, it's Tuesday.
Whumpee complying in hopes that it will be over quicker, only for whumper to say that, as they're so enthusiastic, they'll surely appreciate a round two.
Whumper gagging Whumpee out of sheer anger. Maybe Whumpee is taunting Whumper. Or maybe they just bit them. Whumpee might have even tried to run. But either way, Whumpee's bravado is gone when they see Whumper reach for the gag. And Whumper would be lying if they said that didn't give them some kind of satisfaction.
Freed whumpee who is overwhelmed by anxiety over making decisions and struggles to find purpose without a master.
Freed whumpee who can no longer function without the structure of captivity.
Freed whumpee who cries and begs their caretaker on their hands and knees to be punished so they can be relieved of the all-consuming guilt they feel whenever they make a mistake their whumper would have punished them for.
Caretaker who finally gives in and gives them as mild a punishment as they can that will still make whumpee feel absolved.
Whumpee shaking and crying through their punishment but tearfully thanks their whumper caretaker over and over for making them good again.
Whumpee who can only eat and sleep after brutal correction.
Caretaker who is corrupted by the power it gives them.
Everyone loves the scenario of the Whumpee who came back wrong.
The bubbly sunshine who comes back shell-shocked and quiet.
What about the Whumpee who gets captured while they’re stoic, cold, and unemotional…
Only for them to come back cheerful and sweet?
They smile and they get up early in the morning. They don’t even so much as shoot a sidelong glare at the others when they’re asked to do a task. They’re guarded about what exactly happened with them and Whumper, but will happily insist that they’re just fine and whatever happened really wasn’t so bad.
But that upright posture, candid laughter- those warm greetings whenever someone else enters the room- anticipating the needs of others, “do you want me to put the tea kettle on?”
It starts to look a little bit less like a sunny disposition… and a little bit more like obedience.
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