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Break their ankles

An intrusive whump thought of the day

Content: broken bones, intimate whumper, medical whump, ptsd, brief needle & drug mention.

A whumpee with broken ankles desperately crawling for the door, clawing at it uselessly after whumper has slammed it shut, sobbing and begging to be let go.

Or trying to crawl away from whumper, painfully dragging their limp, broken bones along the floor behind them.

An amused whumper sitting and watching it happen, laughing at whumpee’s pathetic attempts to get away, knowing that whenever they’ve decided their captive has gotten far enough, they can yank them back by the chain around their neck and drag them back over with ease. What’re they gonna do, fight back?

Whumpee being forced to rely on whumper for every little thing despite loathing them with every fiber of their being.

Whumper having to carry them everywhere (bridal style)

Bonus points if it’s an intimate whumper and they scoop them up and coo sweet things into whumpee’s ear all “aw, poor sweet thing, don’t worry, I’ve got you,” While whumpee sobs hopelessly into their captor’s chest, disgusted with the closeness and absolutely horrified and ashamed at how helpless they feel like this.

Or maybe whumpee tries to claw their way out of their captor’s arms, and whumper just drops them, laughing at how useless and pathetic they look when they collapse in a crying heap on the floor, unable to go anywhere without whumper’s help.

More bonus points if the bones don’t heal properly and they can never walk quite right again, or if standing or walking for too long causes sharp pains to shoot up through their ankles and they collapse from the agony.

If they ever get a recovery arc, having to get their ankles rebroken and reset to heal properly— The sensation of their ankles breaking all over again bringing back horribly traumatic flashbacks, feeling like they’re back with whumper again, that they’re being tortured again, until they’re screaming and begging and calling the doctors sir and sobbing desperately to be let go. The medical staff is horrified.

And maybe they’re writhing around and thrashing so much that they have to be restrained and sedated in order for the medical staff to reset their freshly broken bones.

A nurse jamming a needle into their neck and emptying an entire syringe into their bloodstream with an “It’s alright, sweetheart, this is for your own good.”

Whumpee in a full-scale flashback begging through tears when they feel the needle, “please, please no— please sir, please don’t, please don’t do this— I— I’ve been good— please I— I can’t—please-“ until the sedative kicks in and their head lolls to the side.

Feel free to add your own prompts/ thoughts! this trope won’t leave my head rn

More prompts like this

shoutout to shiki my little sadomasochistic meow meow

i wanna bash his face in 💖

#I wanna break all of his bones one by one 🥰🥰#Shiki natsumezaka #poor little meow meow #dance with devils #Shiki #anime whump #whump anime #demon whumpee #whump gifs #my post #whump queen #my gifsets

In the blur of the rain

content: angst, recapture, injury whump, rescue whump, caretaker whumper, blood mention, death wish, mental illness (probably), saving a life. words: 857

▪️▪️▪️

The rain was cold and welcome. Whumpee shivered as it slid down their face and neck, swirling together with coagulated blood and soaking through their thin jacket.

The concrete below was cold and wet. The asphalt under Whumpee’s legs was covered entirely with about a half inch of water, slowly built up over the last several hours. Whumpee felt numb below the waist, but didn’t bother to move. They wouldn’t be able to lie down on the ground tonight, but knew that they would drift off in their sitting position eventually, given how exhausted they always felt.

It was draining, you know, sitting there, bleeding. For days it must’ve been, that they remained, huddled between several large crates that lay forgotten in the narrow alleyway behind the abandoned furniture store.

‘Forgotten in an alleyway’ had seemed quite appealing at the time, when Whumpee had first sunk down between the crates, after hours of limping and clutching their bleeding side.

At least they knew no one would bother them here. At least they wouldn’t get chased down in the night again and hurt even more. And since fading into their little enclave here in the dim little alley, they hadn’t much moved at all.

Instead, they sat, curled up, for what felt like an eternity, their chest sinking further and further back into the old bricks that lined the wall behind them, their face slowly melting and dripping down with the rain, each drop of their skin hitting the asphalt below them with a tiny splash, only to dissipate into the miniature lakes that had bloomed there with them, between the crates.

They could finally shut down and feel nothing again, as they’d wanted to for so long, but as was forbidden by the terror and the paranoia and the pain that every force they encountered had thrust upon them.

But the rain, at least, had been kind. The rain had felt quite nice at first, the cool water washing the dirt and the dried blood off the front of their face and the front of their shirt. Yes, it must’ve been the first nice feeling Whumpee could recall in a long, long time.

The rain was kind, though the wounds were not, and they could feel the sting of infection worsen as the days passed, as more coagulated blood seeped up through their shirt and down their torn cheekbone, as their head got heavier and their vision grew fuzzier.

But if they were lucky, maybe they would die here.

Maybe, they’d be allowed to die here.

It wasn’t a bad place to die, after all. Sure, the narrow alleyway wasn’t very pretty, but Whumpee supposed that in their state, neither were they. And with their eyes finally closed, forehead resting against their curled knees, they thought the rain at least sounded nice, pattering against the wet cement.

Whumpee shivered.

Yes, this really wasn’t a bad place to die.

▪️▪️▪️

Whumpee was stirred from their half-comatose slumber at the sound of approaching footsteps echoing wet along the puddled concrete.

Ah, they must be imagining sounds now. It would hardly be the first time. They didn’t bother to raise their head. They hadn’t the energy to support the weight above their shoulders. Their skull felt full of lead.

The footsteps neared where Whumpee sat, huddled between the crates, and stopped.

“I knew I’d find you.”

That voice. They’d been found, they supposed.

Whumpee slowly raised their head. Their vision was fuzzy, but perhaps even the foggiest of brains were capable of hallucination.

“God, you look like shit.”

Whumpee only stared up with fading vision, slack-lipped, expression blank, their face long since melted down into the puddle below them.

“Jesus Christ. It’s a miracle you’re not dead yet, looking like that.”

Whumpee said nothing.

“You’ve been gone for 9 whole days, you know.”

Whumpee stared and saw less and less. They’d been found, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

“How long have you… been sitting here?” Whumper asked, already learning they would not be getting an answer.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d have lasted this long out here on your own, I honestly thought I’d be bringing back a corpse tonight.” Whumper paused, “Lucky for me, it seems you’re only most of the way there.”

Whumper bent down to where Whumpee sat, huddled, soaked and bleeding, shaking from the fever and shivering from the cold.

Whumper brushed a wet lock of hair out of Whumpee’s injured face, “Don’t worry little one, I’ll make you all better, and then you’ll have learned never to try to escape me ever again.”

Whumper reached their arms beneath Whumpee’s shivering body and lifted them into a bridal carry. Whumper’s skin was warm. Whumpee had nearly forgotten what it felt like to feel warm. They reached up and clung to Whumper’s sleeve, savoring, cherishing the way it brought feeling to their numb fingers.

“Come on now little thing, let’s get you home.”

Pressing a kiss to their wet forehead, they turned from that little enclave between the crates, and walked off into the night.

▪️▪️▪️

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