#phantomprompts

[phantomofthespaceopera]

mmm idk if it’s a prompt exactly but oh i love the idea of hypercompetent!whumpee. for the first couple days, they can’t accept they’ve been captured, inexplicably and unsolvably. they can’t get out, they’re stuck here, defenseless, but how is that possible? their backup plans have backup plans. they’re experienced, well-trained by life. along with all the typical whump that has already started and will continue to slowly break them down, there’s the shameful feeling creeping in day by day that they weren’t good enough at their job, or weren’t strong enough, or clever enough, to save themselves. and eventually, this is reinforced by the fact that no one comes to save them (your call whether that’s because their caretaker/s can’t find them or because they are a loner generally and no one has noticed they’re gone yet </3). it’s all their fault. they should have had it more together — they should have predicted this. had a contingency plan. had a brain. or a friend.

[phantomofthespaceopera]

yk what’s yummy? creepy/intimate whumper. you know what else is delicious? loved one/caretaker clone whumper. so i’m thinking… two great things that taste great together:

1. whumpee that knows — but it doesn’t really matter

• “it’s not them, it’s not them, it’s not them…” runs on a desperate loop in whumpee’s mind. but it is their voice — gentle. tender. loving(ly scooping out whumpee’s insides with a spoon — probably not literally, but whump dealer’s choice 🤷‍♀️). it is their face, contorted in hateful glee at the wince their approach induces. and lastly, it is their hands, the memories of those digits trailing light, sensual trails over whumpee. that only happens on the worst nights now. the nights when whumpee is so far gone they can’t even remember that “it’s not them.”

• the double just appeared one day. two months after the funeral. and whumpee was so glad to see them again they didn’t even question it. they just ran to them, and clung so tightly they thought their arms might fall off. it was only after that whumpee wondered why the clone dug their nails in during the embrace, why the smile the clone gave was hollow and the sun didn’t catch their eyes the same way. “but they came back to you,” a shaky voice in the back of whumpee’s mind chokes out. “to you. who else would ever do that?” and so whumpee thanks the clone. again. and waited until they couldn’t stand it to ask for food. (they thought they made it a week. “really, honey? you can’t even go four days without food? what did i ever see in you?”)

2. whumpee that doesn’t know — (can change this however you like, but) the whumper clone has replaced caretaker in the middle of the night

• whumpee knows their partner inside and out. obviously. so they think they’re going crazy. at first, it’s little things, barely noticeable. maybe double wrinkles their nose at the taste of their favorite breakfast food made carefully by whumpee. “didn’t you used to be good at cooking?” the clone teases. somehow, it doesn’t feel like a joke. but it has to be, right? maybe their favorite movie changes, or they suddenly love a new genre of music. “sorry you’ve been feeling off, love. i picked up some of your favorite ice cream at the store,” whumpee offers. “what are you talking about?” whumper clone demands, a hint of disdain creeping into their voice, just enough to set whumpee’s teeth on edge. “that’s not my favorite, hun,” they continue, concern taking over their tone to better solidify their long con.

• “damnit whumpee, what do you mean you couldn’t do it?! you couldn’t do the one, singular thing i asked you to do?! i have always followed your lead, always! supported you, been a shoulder to cry on for as long as you’ve known me. so for once in your life, try not to be so unfailingly selfish!” the double is angry. again. they step forward calmly, looking rational as anything, seemingly brimming with quiet but justified pain and betrayal. whumpee steps back, tears welling beneath their lids. “i know, i’m sorry. i tried, really. i was trying! i am trying. so hard, all for you, all the time!” they implore the double, plead even. “you mean to tell me this was your best?” the clone steps forward once more, mocking a bit of shock and pouring on a whole lot of anger and hurt. “i— well, yes, i… i just couldn’t… couldn’t do it, i’m so sorry, whumper.” whumpee lets a single year fall. whumper walks over to the door: “you should go, whumpee,” the clone tells them, opening the door as if it pained them, while secretly getting off on the now broken sounds coming from whumpee. “i-i can’t deal with you like this anymore. now. leave!” the double’s voice shakes realistically, like they actually felt they had no other choice, that their partner had betrayed them to the point that they couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them, to sleep with them that night, to even look at them. but the shake was really hiding barely contained excitement at the sight of whumpee looking at them disbelievingly and slowly, heavily, resignedly, making their way out the door.

(sorry these got so long lmao, and i’m still not sure if these count as prompts, but feel free to use any of them! i’d love to see it/be tagged if you do, but it’s okay if you forget/can’t find it. essentially, no credit necessary. i may update these with one or two nsfwhump scenarios later but i think they can stand on their own for now. this is so weird for me actually, because i almost never write whump — and i usually include comfort if i do buttt there’s a show rn that’s got some fantastic blorbos and they’re making me creatively evil apparently.)