I like whump. If you're here, you like whump. Let's like it together! Holly - she/her - biromantic/ace - 23- For any non-whump content, follow my sideblog @hollyannelikesstuff! Requests, questions, conversations always welcome!!!!!!
character b and character a are separated by one-way glass. Character a can see character b being hurt by the bad guy, but character b can’t see character a.
Satyr/Centaur/Faun Whumpee having their hooves neglected. They grow abnormally long, twisting around causing extreme difficulty walking and pain from the unnatural positions of the feet. If left too long without bathing, they may get an invasion of bacteria and fungi that destroys the hoof-wall tissue, resulting in white line disease. Another fun possibility is Thrush, in which dark, sometimes black, ooze shows on the underside of the hooves, severe infection makes it excruciating to walk, and a rotting odor emanates from the hooves.
whumpee gets rescued and istraumatized/unwell they just physically can't sleep for days. maybe they eventually ask for medication or fall asleep on caretaker (or both.)
#389
content: past trauma, aftermath of whump, sleep deprivation, rocky recovery, recovery fic, comfort
Whumpee wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed — they didn't have a medicine-related degree, they had never worked in the field, they just flat out had no idea what was happening to their body. But ever since The Incident and subsequent rescue, they just couldn't fall asleep. It had been 3 days since then, and though they walked around like some undead freak, always teetering on the edge of falling asleep, they could never actually go over the threshold. It was driving them mad. They just wanted a good night's sleep.
"Whumpee?"
They slowly raised their head. They had been trying to fall asleep in the armchair, and Caretaker found them curled up like a cat. "Help me," they begged.
"Help you with…?"
"To fall asleep. I can't. I can't do this anymore. I don't know if it's leftover adrenaline, or what, but I can't fall asleep. It's been 3 days. Please. Don't you have something? A sleeping pill? A sedative? Anything?"
"Well, I have my prescription sleeping medication…"
"Give it to me!"
"One isn't really supposed to give away their prescribed meds… Why don't I make you some chamomile tea, with some honey, maybe—"
"I've drunk so much tea in the past 3 days that I've been going to the bathroom every ten minutes. It doesn't work. I need something stronger. And if you're not giving me the meds, I'm gonna go into your liquor cabinet and drink myself to sleep."
"Okay," Caretaker said quickly, throwing up their hands in defeat. "Okay. You can have one pill."
Whumpee got up from the armchair and followed Caretaker into the kitchen, where they opened a cabinet and took out a box. They waited eagerly as Caretaker popped out a pill into their palm and handed it to them.
"One pill. That's all. You don't get more, and if it doesn't work, I'll simply take you to a—"
Whumpee wasn't paying attention to the rest of the monologue. They immediately downed the pill and went to lie back down in their bed. To them, this was the magic potion, this was the thing that would finally end their waking nightmare.
They snuggled up in the guest bedroom bed with their several pillows and closed blinds, closed their eyes and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Nothing was happening. They were half-asleep, but not really asleep. They heard when Caretaker opened their door to check on them — maybe to see if their breathing had stopped from the pill. "I'm awake," they mumbled into a pillow.
"Oh," Caretaker said quietly. "So it's not working?"
"I dunno… I'm woozy… But I'm not sleeping…"
"Maybe this is a weird idea, but—"
"Can you lie down with me?"
The straightforwardness of the request probably surprised both of them. Whumpee wasn't this direct of a person when they weren't running on fumes. And Caretaker was basically a stranger… And yet.
"Yeah. I was about to suggest something similar."
Caretaker walked further into the room and lay down next to Whumpee. They weren't touching, but Whumpee remedied that pretty quickly. They turned over and cuddled up to Caretaker, like Caretaker was just another pillow, but warmer. They told themself it was in pursuit of sleep, so it was fine.
Deep down, they were starved for human contact that didn't hurt.
"Uh, Whumpee—"
"Just don't say anything to ruin it," they pleaded. "I just want to sleep. Please."
Caretaker tentatively put an arm around Whumpee, holding them. "Okay."
Maybe it was the tea. Or the medication. Or… it was embarrassing enough to admit in their head, let alone out loud, but maybe it was Caretaker's presence. But Whumpee finally, finally dozed off.
Love a fairy with antennae. There’s so much you can do with that. Do they help them detect magic, danger, other fairies? Do they glow, do they move independently, do they droop when the fairy is sad?
But also the whump potential is undeniable. What happens when someone yanks at the antennae? When they get crushed? When they’re sliced, torn, or ripped off their head? Do they become disoriented and a confused like a cat without whiskers? Do they stumble around, looking in every direction trying to keep their bearings? Does it affect how they fly? Does it damage their magic? How bad does it hurt?
Whumpee with amnesia that made them forget the whump. Whumpee has no idea where the scars came from. Why their body flinches for no reason sometimes. Maybe they’re happy that they don’t remember, they figure those memories would only hurt them. Maybe they’re angry that their body holds the wounds of something they know nothing about.
Perhaps Whumpee has taken on a new identity. Either willingly or just as a side effect of not remembering anything. They end up looking through a case of someone who was tortured a few years back and realize that those scars look a lot like Whumpee’s own.
Maybe Caretaker knows what happens to Whumpee, but knows that if they found out it would probably damage them beyond repair. So they have to keep it a secret.
Also the comedic effect of Whumper coming back and expecting Whumpee to be terrified of them. But Whumpee just stares at them in confusion, no reaction.
That moment when Whumpee wakes up all confused and scared, not knowing where they are or what's going on, and Caretaker has been sitting by their side for hours (or days) in the hospital, refusing to leave them alone in case they woke up just like this.
Soooo fucking obsessed with the dynamic between a tired weapon of mass destruction and his weirdly intimate handler who genuinely wants the best for him but doesn't actually have enough power to free him, so they just do their best to try and look after him within the framework they have to operate in.
Grabbing him by the back of his neck and looking in his eyes, drilling an order because they know if he disobeys, he will get into trouble. Helping him hide his mistakes. Snapping at him and calming immediately when he flinches. Acting to others like they don't see him as more than an assignment but also not letting a single person fuck with him for no reason. Not being in a position where going easy on him is an option, so being intense and overbearing in this case is the only way they can look after him.
Whumper visiting Whumpee in the hospital—subtly insulting them and victim-blaming them in a way that Whumpee is far too out of it to understand.
“You look like shit.”
“Are you sure you can’t walk?”
“Don’t you think this is all a little dramatic?”
“If you had been more careful, none of this would’ve happened.”
“I don’t care what the doctors say. You’re [working, going back to school, getting back into sport, etc.] as soon as you leave these doors.”
But caretaker does. Caretaker is standing in the corner, their anger steadily rising watching Whumpee lay completely defenseless and unaware that they’re getting completely chewed into. And eventually it just spills over.
“Get out.” Caretaker says, voice low and cold as they stand.
“What? I’m just visiting.” Whumper responds, raising his hands in surrender.
Caretaker walks in front of poor Whumpee’s bed, in between them and Whumper.
“Go, you’re not helping. Before I call security.”
Whumper eventually does, but doesn’t fail to complain about how caretaker is being so overbearing, and that it’s just simple banter. Whumpee just looks up at caretaker, eyes big and glazed over and so, so innocent.
Whumpee who escaped their Whumper, after months and months of fruitlessly begging to be released. Now, Whumpee's been captured by a new Whumper, but this time, they refuse to give in, no matter what the new Whumper throws at them. It's almost as if they're psychologically incapable of submitting to their new Whumper, despite all of Whumper's best efforts.
Really like it when a character can feel something mild coming on and they counter it with something appropriately mild, only for it to get way worse. Mild headache? Ah yeah, pop one Advil. Slightly upset stomach? Sure, an antacid in their water. Slightly achy, maybe a little chilled? Surely a single Tylenol will do. By the time it gets worse it's bad, and whatever they initially did to prepare was not even close to enough.
A quick thought for whumpees in recovery: When they don't have a panic attack.
Something happens to set them off, and it gets close. They end up on the floor, forcing themselves to take deep breaths. Maybe a caretaker is nearby to talk them through it. Maybe there's a course of action they can take. Maybe they have a fluffy cat to cuddle. Either way, they manage to stop the panic attack before it starts.
Once they're fully calm, Whumpee is incredibly proud of themself. Once upon a time, that situation would have been debilitating. But now they're finally starting to get control over their own brain. It feels really good.
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