#whump drabble

[sugarsweetwriter]

Whumpee with a caffeine addiction.

Whumpee who, after finally being saved from Whumper's hold, had only coffee, tea, and above all else, energy drinks as vices to rely on.

Whumpee who may or may not have had an addictive personality to begin with.

Whumpee who develops a reliance on caffeine, possibly having have had it as a vice even in their life even before Whumper.

Whumpee who drinks so many caffinated beverages that they're dizzy and their hands are trembling as they do anything and everything possible to avoid falling asleep as they’d be greeted by their reaccuring nightmares.

Whumpee who sneaks in energy drinks rather than alcohol, hoping to pass under Caretaker's radar.

Whumpee who just hopes that Caretaker will carelessly dismiss their reliance as slight overconsumption that many, if not most, people fall victim to when it comes to their workplace’s espresso machine.

Whumpee who is wrong, and hasn't realised just how perceptive and caring Caretaker is when it comes to Whumpee.

Whumpee who has had even their coffee/espresso machine privileges revoked as their patterns of consuming just a tad bit too many caffinated drinks daily does, in fact, not pass under Caretaker's radar—who now will not even let themselves drink coffee by Whumpee.

Whumpee who has headaches and falls asleep many times a day, as it’s been so long since they’ve been even a day without some caffeinated drink.

Whumpee who gets frustrated with all that Caretaker does, even if they know that Caretaker only wants the best for them—not that acknowledging it makes them feel any better about it, anyway.

Whumpee who can’t stay resentful at Caretaker for long.

Caretaker who lets Whumpee nap next to (and cuddle up to) them if they want to do so.

[holidayinhell]

Dear Caretaker,

If you’re reading this… I’m probably gone forever. I’m sorry.

I don’t know if this will even reach you. Maybe he’ll burn it. But I had to try and put something down. 

I don’t really know what to say (sorry this pen really sucks)

Thank you for saving me. You did it twice now. That time on the boat, and now this time too. I couldn’t have survived this long if I wasn’t thinking about you. Your face, your kindness, your compassion and warmth... It’s the only thing that’s gotten me through the past few weeks.

I wish I could see you one more time. You might be proud of me. I’m not scared like I used to be.

But I hope you’ve found something better. Someone better. Someone who’s not like me.

(flip page ->)

If any part of you still loves me, or cares about me or is even just wondering-- I thought of you at the very end. And that reminded me how beautiful life can be.

Maybe you can think of me sometime too?

I want you to know I loved you. I always have and always will. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.

All my love,

Whumpee

[wintertimewhump]

It’s common to see whumpers that enjoy making their whumpee sad/angry/afraid. That’s pretty natural for whumpers.

But what about a whumper that (also) enjoys making their whumpee happy?

Whumper loves how Whumpee’s eyes light up when they’re given a plate of their favorite food (after being starved for days)

Whumper loves watching Whumpee sing along to their favorite songs playing from the radio Whumper bought them (to help them cope with long periods of isolation)

Whumper loves the peaceful look on Whumpee’s face as they enjoy a good book Whumper gave them (and could take away at any time)

Whumper loves how soft Whumpee’s hair and skin look after a warm shower (the first in weeks)

Whumper loves how Whumpee slowly dances around their cell to the tune of a music box (it was a gift for not struggling despite the pain)

Whumper loves the sigh of relief from Whumpee as Whumper applies the burn cream (to the wounds Whumper made with a red hot poker)

Whumper loves pulling Whumpee close to them, curled up on the couch as they watch Whumpee’s favorite film (they notice Whumpee shivering slightly in their hold)

Whumper loves making Whumpee happy (as long as they know Whumper could take it back whenever they want)

[whumblr]

Strong characters who don't show any fear. Even when captured. Even when they're on their knees, with their hands tied behind their back, when a fist or boot or weapon is about to connect with their face. They don't glance up in fear, they don't flinch, don't attempt to make a miserable attempt to fight back or run. They don't beg or plea. They simply take it.

They're not resigned. They're just biding their time. And waiting.

[whumpkinpie]

Whumpee stirring from a deep, medical-induced sleep to the sound of muffled voices, fighting to pry their eyes open to see who it is but their resolve is too weak, their eyelids too heavy.

Their head lolls sideways on the pillow as they draw a slow, sluggish breath, mumbling unintelligibly'Where am I? What's happening?' But their mouth is unable to properly form the words.

The voices pause suddenly, and hesitate, before Whumpee feels a warm gentle hand is stroking their face and hair.

"No, No...shhhh. Shh, It's alright, Whumpee. It's nothing," A soothing voice whispers, lulling them back down. "Just go back to sleep."

"It'll all be over soon..." Is the last words Whumpee hears before the medicine takes over again, causing them to fall back into their slumber.

[jordanstrophe]

"Let me go!" Whumpee shouted, pushing every limit to break out of their restraints. Their hands were tied behind a tree while whumper and their team worked to set up camp. "I don't have what you want. You've got the wrong guy-"

Whumper scoffed as they tied cloth into a gag. They had a henchman hold whumpee's head back as they forced it into their mouth.

"Quiet you. We have a long trip ahead of us and I need my men to rest tonight." Whumper stroked their fingers across whumpee's face as they flinched in disgust.

"Now, if you don't throw a fit all night, you can keep your face in-tact." 

[gotta-whump-them-all]

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they're plagued with night terrors.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because it's hard for them to lay on their bad, due to their scars.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they're on high alert; too nervous to let themself fall asleep.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they think Whumper will find them when they're sleeping.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they're terrified of the dark.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because of their chronic pain.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they are such a light sleeper that the slightest noise wakes them up.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they're scared that once they fall asleep, that Caretaker will abandon them.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because their sleep schedule is so messed up that they sleep whenever.

Whumpee who can't sleep at night because they're scared of Caretaker; they're scared that they'll turn out just like Whumper.

[whump-softie]

Sure, Whumpee is beaten daily. He is hit and kicked to the floor by everyone he sees, but at least it is better than it was.

Sure, he is branded and beaten until unconscious. He is punished for wrongdoings that aren’t his own, but at least it is better than it was.

Before, he was loved and cherished. He was brought up to a level he never thought he could reach, and he never deserved it.

At least now, the outside matches the inside. At least now, others see what he sees in himself; a detestable creature with no hope of salvation.

He is beaten and he deserves it.

Yes, this is much better.

[a-class-attempter]

Whumper spun the iron rod in their hand. Whumpee looked up wearily, their wrists raw from struggling against the rope that tied them tight to the wooden chair. “This, Whumpee, is a freeze brand. You want to know what it does?” “Not particularly, no.” Whumper laughed and went on anyway. “Well, you see, it will cause a burn of sorts. Make a beautiful mark on your lovely skin. Then, it will scar. Oh, how it will scar, red and angry. A forever reminder of your conquerer.” Whumper smiled, holding the freezing rod close to Whumpee’s face. Whumpee could feel the biting cold radiating off it. They shied away as far as they could with their limited mobility.

“Get that thing away from me.”

Whumper hummed. “No, I don’t think I will. Consider it a gift.”

Whumper brought down the iron on Whumpee’s neck. Whumpee writhed and choked, the pain mixing with the dread of having Whumper’s mark forever stained into their skin.

[isntthisblank]

Uncaring Caretaker

A caretaker who’s rough and doesn’t care about boundaries or mental states. They know that Whumpee needs to shower, and they make Whumpee take a shower. It doesn’t matter if Whumpee is scared that Caretaker would drown them. Caretaker just grabs them and puts them in the shower, deaf to Whumpee’s panic and pleas of mercy. Because the best way, to get Whumpee to realise that Caretaker wouldn’t hurt them, won’t be empty, reassuring words - Whumpee will panic and panic until eventually they’ll see that everything has been fine and their fears have never come true. And then they’ll have no more reason to panic

[holidayinhell]

“Take a sip of your drink.”

“Don’t make a scene,” he hissed. “Drink it.”

Whumpee took a small sip from the glass. He grimaced—he’d never acquired the taste for red wine.

“Where’s Caretaker?”

Whumper sighed. “You’re so fucking stupid.” He adjusted the gun against Whumpee’s ribs beneath the tablecloth.

“What did you do to him?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Fucking tell me now.”

“Then listen to what I tell you to do.” Whumper gazed around the room, buzzing with chatter and clinking glasses. He wondered how many bullets it would take if Whumpee didn’t cooperate.

“Take a bite of your food.”

“No.”

Whumpee slid his hands under the table, hiding the tremble in his fingers. “You’re not gonna shoot me in a goddamn restaurant.”

“Eat your fucking pasta.” He jabbed Whumpee again. “Unless you wanna see what color the waitress’s brains are.”

The gun bruised him, digging in further until he squirmed away.

“Oww. Fuck. Alright already.”

Whumpee leaned forward, slowly twirling the pasta around his fork.

He raised the glistening, saucy noodles to his lips—slowly, dramatically—drawing Whumper’s full attention.

Whumpee let the fork slip through his fingers, clattering to the floor.

Across the room, the attentive waitress made her way to the table.

“Oops.”

(more whump)

[whumpanini]

Whumper had Whumpee on their knees facing them. Whumpee's team stood behind but when they tried to turn and look at their teammates, Whumper grabbed their face and kept them facing forward.

"Ah-ah," Whumper tutted. "Only I can see those pleading eyes."

[firemind411]

I love when a person who's been through HELL is so messed up and weak - they're FILTHY but don't have the strength to take themselves for a bath.

So their caretaker/s help them. Submersed by caring hands while drifting in and out of a heavy haze.

[whumblr]

"You could say I know them more intimately than you by now. After all..." Whumper grabbed Whumpee's face and forced them to look at Caretaker. "Have you ever seen their face twisted like this? Seen them all desperate? Fear in their eyes? Begging with their whole being? Or a rage that twists their features into something that you would never recognise? Hm?"

Caretaker didn't take the bait. He remained eerily calm, ignoring that deep fear that he had, admittedly, never seen before in those eyes.

"Well, what about you?" he returned the question. "Have you ever seen them look at you with utter devotion? Have you seen their face light up when you enter the room? How their eyes sparkle when you make them laugh? Seen that longing? That love?"

His eyes snapped up to Whumper, whose grin remained on his face, but his eyes had hardened. "After all..."

That's what you want? Right?"

[serene-cinders]

A Whumpee who’s rescued from their situation by police with the assumption that they have friends and family who can support them, be it financially and emotionally, but they just don’t. Maybe Whumper had their identity changed years ago and Whumpee’s been through so much they can’t remember who they were. Better yet, they don’t even want to know who they once were. It’s irrelevant, now. Or maybe they don’t have the heart to seek out who they once knew, all those years ago. It’s so difficult, they’re a different person now. Everybody else must’ve moved on, right? Nobody cares about them anymore, right? Yeah. They’ve definitely stopped looking.

The state was able to put Whumper away for a few years. A charity is able scrape together a rented apartment for Whumpee. Set them up with a simple job. They clock in and clock out, go home and sleep in their empty apartment, curled in the sheets, with nobody to love and nobody to answer to.

Recovery whump without a caretaker has so much potential.

[whumps-and-stumps-but-no-stumps]

First time really writing something (and also posting on this account), it didn’t come out exactly like I had wanted but you have to start somewhere right?

Cw: gun, (forced) betrayal, vague military whump?, intimate whumper

He sat with his back to the wall, exhausted and relieved, but his nerves weren’t quitting just yet. He spoke again into the walkie-talkie.

“Okay, hard part is almost over. I’ve got the code for that door there that should be-“

Whumpee felt cold metal touching the side of his head. He instinctively froze and stopped the walkie talkie.

“Good boy,” Whumper said. The soft and condescending tone they took made Whumpee want to tear someone’s skin off. Wether it was whumper’s or his own he hadn’t yet decided.

Through the walkie talkie still in Whumpee’s hand came the voice of his teammate, “Whumpee, is everything all right? You cut out.”

Whumper crouched down to Whumpee.

“Is everything all right, Whumpee?” Whumper said teasingly. They pushed their gun a little harder into the side of his head, making Whumpee flinch. “tell them you’re fine.“

Whumpee took a second to compose himself, before putting on the most normal voice he possibly could in this situation.

“Everything’s fine, yeah. Sorry.” He was trying desperately to keep his voice from shaking.

“And the code?” Teammate replied.

“Right, the code. Um…”

Whumper looked at him expectantly, “go on,” they prompted.

“…7942.” Whumpee felt sick as he said it. He was probably dooming his team to falling right into the enemy’s hands, but what could he do about it? And anyway, Teammate is a smart person, they can figure it out, right?

“Great. I got through. Just straight from here, yeah?”

“Yes.”

Whumper grabbed the walkie talkie out of Whumpee’s hand placing it on the ground.

They brought up their free hand to cup Whumpee’s cheek. “You’re such a good puppet already, Whumpee,” they teased. Whumper caressed the side of his face with his gun. “Still, I will so enjoy making you perfect. You’ll get to pay for all the nuisance you’ve caused to our organization”

Whumpee was still trying to remain composed but crumbling. He knew what they did to people in this ‘organization,’ making them spies and soldiers by any means necessary.

“Please. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt my team”

Whumper looked at them with mock pity, “A little late to worry about that, don’t you think? Awe, It’s ok, you were only doing what you had to. And I assure you, you’ll thank yourself in the end.”