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[whumpshaped]

me irl jumpscare

so! all the detail is in the gofundme description but to summarise: hi, i'm a transmasc living in the uk and it sucks here! i've already had to go private with my hormones because of the waiting times and the struggle to even get on the waiting list at all and by god it costs money. so if you can throw even some spare change my way for my top surgery fund, i would really appreciate it <3

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hi hello if any wheelchair users or otherwise disabled ppl wanna proofread or like sensitivity read my fucked up little lab whump story please shoot me a dm. it has cannibalism and dismemberment and body horror and parasites and self harm and murder and gore and noncon drugging and toxic yuri

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very specific whump drabble request because it won’t leave my mind.

whumpee recovering (with the help of caretaker) after being tortured by whumper and specifically having his achilles tendons cut :D

content: past trauma, rocky recovery, hospital setting, gore mention, sadistic whumper, surgery mention, aftereffects of torture, flashbacks

The cast felt uncomfortable. The surgery site was not yet painful, likely because Whumpee had been pumped full of painkillers, but his leg was already itching, and he knew that stupid cast wasn't coming off for at least several weeks. And they'd put his foot in such an odd position, it was just... so weird.

"I don't like this," Whumpee whispered, and Caretaker gave him an apologetic smile.

"I know. I'm sorry. But they had to do the surgery."

Whumpee nodded. Of course, he knew that too. It just didn't make it any easier.

It felt so unfair. He was here with a stupid cast on his leg, while Whumper was somewhere still out there, free, happy, able to walk and run and jump.

"Just let me know when you're ready to go," Caretaker said softly, breaking Whumpee out of his thoughts.

"I mean... I, I'd like to go as soon as possible. Can we go now?"

"Uh— well, I mean, I guess? Let me ask a nurse, hold on. They said we could go whenever, but I'm not sure they assumed you would want to go immediately."

Whumpee watched his friend disappear into the hallway, and he turned his head back to look at the ceiling. It was all white, just like the rest of the hospital, aside from pops of that ghastly green colour.

He wanted to go home. This emergency hospital visit felt like one last punch from Whumper, one last way in which they could keep him from finally returning to his life. It was infuriating.

"I hope you're not a dancer," they said, giddy with excitement as they raised the knife. "I would so hate to do this to a dancer."

The memory flooded his mind all at once, without warning. He clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle any sobs, trying to calm down. It was over. It was over.

"I hope you think of me every time you take another step."

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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famous whumpee attempting to cover up for whumper (maybe a partner) because there have been allegations of abuse in their relationship? all eyes are on whumpee for explanation.

content: domestic whump, stockholm syndrome, known whumpee, past trauma, manipulation

"Hi, guys," Whumpee said, trying to keep up a cheery attitude for the camera. It didn't sound honest. They cleared their throat and tried again. "Hi, guys!" Still not very good.

Did they even need to sound cheery for a video like this? No, most people would be upset at accusations like that. Still, they needed to come across pleasant. Pleasant, but not particularly cheery. Concise. Holding back anger, maybe? They could act angry further along into the video.

They cleared their throat again.

"Hi, guys! Today's video is less..." Less what? "...happy, uh..." This was horrible. Start again. "Hi, guys! Today's video is a less happy one, as I'm sure you've guessed from the title. But it isn't less happy because it's some huge callout about my partner— It's less happy because the allegations that have been going around lately are... very heavy, and they're... they're honestly really upsetting for both of us."

They make my partner angry and they get very scary when they're angry.

They shifted in their seat, then took a deep breath. "I mean... Allegations like that are serious. But speculation on the topic is just... really hurtful. We've been together for years, and apart from some minor arguments, we've never had... We've never had..."

Clear throat, try again.

"We've been together for years, and we're very happy in this relationship. So seeing all those comments and theories is super hurtful. Even to me, and I'm not even the one being accused of... The a-word the site won't even let me utter. My partner is affected really deeply by your words—"

No, that would be giving too much power to these stupid people. It would make it worse.

"I would like to encourage you to please remember that you guys don't really know how our relationship is. Latching onto every little word, every little reaction... I've seen these weird compilations of me 'flinching whenever they move too suddenly', and it's... weird, I'm gonna be honest."

Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath.

Breathe.

By the time Whumpee was done recording, they could barely remember what they'd said. They detached the camera from their tripod and brought it to their computer, hoping the finished product would be something Whumper would approve of.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

[whumpshaped]

hello, I loved that one shot you wrote where whumpee asks caretaker's help with overcoming their trauma, by asking caretaker to tell them the command to kneel

can you do something similar, but whumpee asking caretaker to help them overcome their fear of needles??? (whumper had tortured them with drugs multiple times, so now they fear needles.) whumpee really needs medical treatment in the moment and at first they are compliant, but just when the nurse is about to inject them they scream and beg not to get the shot. whumpee thinks it'll be easier with caretaker because they trust them, so they'll not be so scared in the future (also doesn't go well, but they're working on it)

content: needles, phobia whump, past trauma, medical whump, hospital setting, rocky recovery

"Whatever I do, whatever I say... Just... Just hold me tight, okay? Hold me as tight as you can. Please."

Caretaker was fidgeting with the hem of their shirt, looking anywhere but at Whumpee. "I'm not sure I can do this."

"Please. I need— I need this blood draw. It's very important. I just... can't do it alone. I get really scared. Last time was so embarrassing, please help."

They slowly nodded. "Okay, um... I'll try my best."

Whumpee gently took Caretaker's hands in their own, stopping their fidgeting. Caretaker glanced up at them, still feeling awful about what they were about to do.

"Thank you. Truly. You're helping, Caretaker. I promise."

This reassurance would play over and over in their mind as they held down their friend, listening to their screams of sheer terror with tears in their eyes.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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hallo! dunno if you're currently taking suggestions/asks, but-

current thing going through my mind right now: a scenario where Whumper is gentle (in that manipulative way) whenever Whumpee wakes up from a nightmare. Which means later, after the rescue and Whumpee is with Caregiver, Whumpee refuses comfort after bad dreams because it always reminds them of Whumper

(if that makes sense)

content: rocky recovery, past trauma, nightmares, lashing out, anger as a trauma response

"Whumpee? Wake up, it's just a nightmare, you're okay... Whumpee?"

Whumpee awoke with a start, almost punching their saviour in the face. It was odd, to be granted such free movement. Whumper never allowed that, for that same reason.

"Get away from me!" they shrieked, still in a half-asleep, yet adrenaline-fuelled frenzy. "Get the fuck away from me! Get away!"

"Hey, hey, Whumpee, calm down," Caretaker said gently, putting their hands up to show peaceful intent.

"Get away!" they screamed anyway. "Get away, get away, get away!"

Caretaker got off the bed and backed up, still calm as ever. "Whumpee, it's okay. It's just me. No one will hurt you."

"Shut up!" Whumpee curled up, not even bothering to wipe the tears away; more would come within a second. "Shut up, get out, get away from me... Please, leave me alone... Get out..."

They could hear Caretaker's heavy sigh as they finally relented. "Alright. I'll be right outside, if you need anything—"

"I don't! Go back to your room, go away!"

"Alright! Alright. I'm leaving. I'm sorry."

There was some awkward shuffling in the dark, then the sound of the door opening and closing. Whumpee could finally sob in peace, knowing they would not go back to sleep tonight.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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ok so no more drugging whump

I give ye the idea of a magic whump that hurts. It could be a whumpee trying to restrain magic, knowing their body cannot handle a power of unto a god. or whumper uses magic to torture whumpee, or they rip the magic right out of them leaving a husk behind.

IDK JUST. PAINFUL MAGIC.

content: major character death, magical whump, self-sacrifice, gore

Whumpee didn't have much use in fights. But as they crawled closer and closer, trying to withstand the immense heat of the magic emanating from Whumper, they tried to tell themself they would finally put their one talent to use: they could syphon magic from other beings.

It already hurt as they neared Whumper. Their skin felt like it was melting off. Their body was being crushed under the suffocating pressure of the foreign magic, and they knew that accepting it into their body would likely kill them.

But it would give their team an opening, and that was all that mattered.

Whumper didn't even glance at them. They probably expected Whumpee to die before getting to touch them, and to be fair, it wasn't an entirely baseless thought. Everything hurt, every movement sent waves of agony rippling through their body, and Whumpee could only focus on the pain, pain, pain, just two more inches, please, I'm almost there, it hurts so much.

But then, their finger brushed against Whumper's shoe. And then, they wrapped their fingers around their ankle.

And they pulled.

All that deadly magic flowed into their body at once, ripping them apart from the inside. They could feel their organs being burned, their bones breaking, their skin peeling off and turning to ash like parchment.

In their last moments, amidst all that agony, they hoped their team would make use of their sacrifice. They hoped it would be enough.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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yk what I’m gonna share because I enjoy? Big guy whumpee getting too weak in captivity to fight back. He fights so hard in the beginning, but sleep deprivation, hypothermia, and starvation have started to take their tolls.

he’s shaking, the chains digging into his skin. he had promised himself he wouldn’t break, but if someone offered him warm food of any kind right then, he would have done any humiliating task to earn it. He’s fighting sleep, partially because he realizes that if he does sleep he might not wake, and that whenever he does sleep he gets shocked.

Just the image of a physically weaker whumper strolling in the cell of her near broken captive and fucking smirking.

content: military setting, captivity, torture, conditioning, starvation, dehydration, sleep deprivation, lady whumper, dehumanisation

It was delightful. That annoying, rowdy man, finally too weak to cuss at her... Curled up like a kid, trembling... It was intoxicating. Whumper could barely hold in a giggle.

"Wakey, wakey," she said in a sing-song voice, banging on the bars of the cell once with the sturdier end of her riding crop. "Feeling tired?"

Whumpee flinched violently, then curled up even tighter. It looked like he was about to cry. Oh, the poor, stupid baby. What a pathetic sight.

"If you don't answer me while I'm still outside, I might be tempted to go inside." Bang. "So get your shit together and sit up, you fucking pitiful excuse for an officer. Should I bark orders at you? Is that what you're used to? Up, lieutenant, up, up."

Whumpee put his two shaky hands against the concrete and pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning his back against the wall. Even that seemed like it put a strain on his body — good. Only good boys deserve adequate food and water, and poor lieutenant hadn't been a very good boy.

Not until now.

"Good job," she cooed, then immediately hit the bars again. "But fucking slow! Do you expect me to pat you on the back for that? At this rate, you're never gonna earn a single minute of sleep again! I work with dogs, lieutenant, I expect obedience and quick responses to my commands!"

"Fuck yourself," he ground out.

"Tempting, but I think I'd rather fuck you. Metaphorically speaking." She banged on the bars one more time. "I'm giving you one chance to earn some soup today, because you haven't been acting out lately. Of course, that's only because you're thoroughly exhausted — if you give me a reason to think this is the only state in which you can be kept compliant, I will keep you in this state for as long as your fucked up little body allows. Do we understand each other?"

Whumpee nodded, and Whumper hit the bars even harder than before.

"Do we fucking understand each other, lieutenant?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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Whumpee lives an uncanny, perfect life with Whumper. They start to question whether the pills they take every day are really migraine pills at all.

content: domestic whump, noncon drugging, intimate whumper, paranoia (but not baseless)

It was a strange thought. A strange, disturbing thought that made Whumpee feel like they were going crazy.

They stared at the pills in their hand like it was the first time they'd seen them, turning them back and forth with their thumb. There was nothing unusual about them, really. They were the same pills they'd taken every time the migraine struck. And yet, they seemed so... foreign.

"Everything alright, dear?" their spouse asked from the table. "You look worried. Or is the migraine bad today?"

"I'm okay, honey. Thank you." Whumpee set the medication back down on the counter. "Actually, the migraine is thankfully fading. Hopefully, it won't come back any time soon."

Whumper furrowed their brows, the perfect picture of the concerned significant other. "If it's still just fading, then you should probably take that last two. Just in case."

"I think I'm okay. I don't want to waste them." They sat down at the table, feeling the tiniest twinge of fear as their spouse's intense gaze fixed on them.

"I'm worried about you," they said softly. "I'd rather you waste a whole box for nothing than be without them when you need them for fear of 'being too expensive'. You know I'd give an arm and a leg to make those migraines stop for you, money is no obstacle."

"I know, sweetheart. Thank you." They reached across the table, prompting Whumper to take their extended hands. "But I'm okay. I really am."

Whumper stared at them for a long, uncomfortable moment before they finally smiled. "Alright. You know best."

Whumpee left for the pharmacy as soon as their spouse was gone. They bought a bottle of the medication they were apparently taking for their migraine, frantically pouring the pills out onto the counter.

They looked nothing like their medication.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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can I get uhhhh….squints at menu…a tranquilizer whump where caretaker is lugging an unconscious whumpee along with them through a forest as they escape, but caretaker had been shot with a tranq mid escape and it’s getting hard to keep moving.

content: failed escape, recapture, noncon drugging, needles, fainting, dehumanisation

Caretaker was panting with exhaustion as they walked through the forest, their unconscious friend thrown over their shoulder. They tried to hurry, but their arms were cramping from how tightly they were holding onto Whumpee, and their legs were starting to buckle underneath them.

And that was before they felt the prick of the tranquiliser dart hitting their arm.

"Fuck," they muttered, determined to keep on going. "If you think that's gonna stop me, you're a fucking idiot!"

Despite their claim, their body was quickly becoming heavier and heavier. Every step was a struggle, every breath a chore, and it didn't take long before they tripped on the uneven forest floor.

They could barely keep their eyes open as Whumper emerged from the shadows, easily grabbing both Whumpee and them by the waist, lifting them into the air. Caretaker didn't have the energy to struggle.

"Don't worry," Whumper said with a smile in their voice. "I'll take excellent care of my pet's little friend."

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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so a while back i had a controversial bg3 opinion... and ive been thinking abt it ever since...

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OKOK I have an idea for a lil messed up prompt

Whumper doses two whumpee’s who’d normally hate each other with love potions because they’re a psychologist studying how people react

bonus points if they’re being tortured/experimented on on the side and they’re disgusted by the urges, but they keep getting stronger and stronger

essa and cyan are placeholder names for whumpee 1 and 2

content: lady whump, multiple whumpees, captivity, past trauma, torture, noncon drugging, restraints, dehumanisation, death threats, past noncon

Essa sat huddled in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest. She didn't even have the energy to glare at her cellmate anymore — Cyan, the stupid fucking bitch who had defended her rapist in court. Thanks to her, they got off without a scratch, meanwhile she would bear the scars for eternity.

Still, even that was a lesser offence than whatever her current captor had done; namely, kidnapping the both of them and shoving them into a cell together, then forcing mystery drugs down their throat.

"Do you feel anything yet?" Cyan asked.

"Shut the fuck up," she snapped.

The fucker actually had the audacity to roll her eyes. "Look, I get—"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Fine."

The minutes passed in silence. Essa was starting to feel lightheaded, but she had no idea whether it was the hunger, the dehydration, the stress, or the drug. There were too many variables.

She looked over at Cyan, and found her staring back at her with an expression so soft it made her guts churn. "What?" she demanded.

"What?"

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Like what? Can't I even look in your direction?"

"No! Fucking— Rot! Die! Don't fucking look at me like that, don't look at me at all, go fuck your disgusting rapist client!"

Cyan huffed. "It's nothing personal. I have to defend criminals sometimes, it's part of the job. I didn't defend them because I like them."

"You're disgusting. I hope you die here and someone defends the sick fuck who kidnapped us and killed you."

"You're being ridiculous."

Essa wished she hadn't been chained to the fucking wall. All she wanted was to walk across the room and strangle Cyan.

"Don't fucking talk to me. And stop staring."

Hours passed. Essa was starting to be sure the effects she was feeling were definitely from the drug. She kept finding herself staring back at Cyan, staring into those lovely brown eyes whenever she wasn't staring at her gorgeous full lips.

They got into half-hearted arguments, but there wasn't any conviction behind either of their words anymore. There was more passion in Essa's voice when their captor came back and dragged Cyan away. She cried as she listened to her screams from outside, and she cried because she didn't understand any of her feelings.

When Cyan was brought back in, battered and bloody, Essa tried to rush to her. Her chains rattled loudly as she moved, stopping her just short of midway. Cyan dragged her body towards her too, collapsing at the end of her leash like a corpse.

"Cyan? What did they do? Are you okay? Fuck, you're not okay, I'm sorry—"

Cyan reached a hand towards her, and Essa dropped to the ground and gently took hold of it. "'s fine," she muttered. "At least they didn't hurt you."

You didn't care about me being hurt when it was your salary on the line, a mean voice whispered.

She's hurt, she's so hurt, my love is so hurt, ten other voices shouted back.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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thinking about like.. a cursed/brainwashed whumpee trying to seek comfort from caretaker. but in reality, whumpee is hallucinating any sort of comfort and they’re actually just attacking caretaker instead of hugging them. and they don’t realise until caretaker is either severely injured or dead. （╹◡╹）

content: murder, forced to hurt, knives, stabbing, emotional whump, psychological whump, major character death, magical whump

"Caretaker?" Whumpee raised their teary eyes to meet their friend's gaze, their voice shaking as they called out. "Is— is it really you?"

Caretaker nodded, breaking out into a big grin. "Sure is. I've been looking everywhere for you."

It was too good to be true — yet here they were in the flesh, opening their arms for Whumpee to give them a hug. Whumpee didn't hesitate a second.

They rushed to Caretaker and wrapped their arms around them, holding them tight. "I've missed you so much! So much! You have no idea what they did to me, I— I don't even want to talk about it, I don't care, I'm just— I'm so happy you came!"

"Of course, Whumpee," they said gently, rubbing their back as they talked. "I told you I would come, didn't I? I told you I would always come."

"It was so hard to believe it," they sobbed. "But I— I tried, I tried my best to hold out until you came... I tried my best..."

"Whumpee?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Don't pull out the knife."

Whumpee frowned in confusion. "What? What knife...?"

"Don't, Whumpee—"

The illusion shattered just as Whumpee pulled back a little, and they suddenly saw their friend for what they were: a battered and bruised heap on the floor, clutching their stomach like their life depended on it.

And it did.

"Caretaker!" Whumpee looked down and saw the bloody knife in their hand, and they immediately threw it away. "No! No, please, I'm sorry! I don't understand! I don't understand!"

They fell to their knees and pressed their own two hands against the wound too, sobbing in anguish.

"I didn't mean to! I didn't see— I don't get it, I was hugging you!"

Caretaker tried to answer, but all that came out was a bloody gurgle. There were no comforting words left in their steadily filling lungs. All they could do was grab onto Whumpee's wrists with their stained fingers, but even their hold was becoming weaker and weaker.

They were drowning. Slowly, agonisingly, all because of Whumpee.

"Please," Whumpee choked out. "Please don't die, please, no, please..."

It was futile. All too soon, Caretaker's hands fell limply to their side, and Whumpee was left with a corpse whose face was forever twisted into the expression of a betrayed friend.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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hii could you please write something about a whumpee post rescue that is recovering at caretaker's house and is so paranoid

like they heard a sound at night and believe whumper is in the house somehow trying to recapture them, so they hurry to the kitchen to grab a knife to defend themselves

they're very delirious so when someone shows up in the dark they don't think twice before attacking.. only to after realize it's caretaker!! they don't get to seriously hurt caretaker tho, because caretaker defended themselves

comfort afterwards too, everyone loves a whumpee breaking down crying

thx bye I love your stories :D

content: past trauma, paranoia, delusions, knives, recovery, comfort, suicide mention, self harm mention

Whumpee lay rigidly still in their bed, breaths coming quick and shallow, heart and thoughts racing. They couldn't believe it. Or more like, they didn't want to believe it.

They were back. Whumper was back. After months, they'd finally managed to track them down, and now they were here to drag them back into their personal hell.

Whumpee swallowed and forced a cramped, tense leg out from under the covers. Then another. They carefully let the soles of their feet touch the cold, wooden floor, then shifted their weight onto them and stood up. They crept to the door and opened it a crack, listening for Whumper.

Silence.

Of course, whatever noise they'd heard was probably a mistake on Whumper's part. If everything had gone according to their plan, Whumpee probably wouldn't have been given a rare warning like that. It was futile to wait for another. They had to act.

They slowly padded across the hallway and into the kitchen, opting for one of the bigger knives on the counter. Opening a drawer was out of the question, too loud. The lights stayed off as well, for obvious reasons. All they knew was the handle of the knife pressing into their palm as they gripped it firmly, and the rushing of blood in their ear.

They weren't going back. They weren't fucking going back. If push came to shove, they could even slit their own throat instead of Whumper's. Anything to avoid recapture.

Suddenly, Whumpee saw them; the shadowy figure moving towards them. They raised their arm just as Whumper switched on the lights, and they swung— and missed.

"Whumpee!"

They swung again, but this time Whumper — wait, Caretaker? — grabbed their wrist.

"Whumpee! Calm down! It's me! It's me, it's just me, you're not in danger!"

"C-Caretaker...?" The adrenaline was still pumping in their system, and Whumpee yanked their hand out of their friend's grasp. "We have to go! We have to leave! They're here!"

"Who? Whumpee, what do you see? What happened?"

"I'm not— don't treat me like I'm crazy!" they snapped. "I heard them! Whumper! They're here, we have to go!"

"Okay," Caretaker said slowly. "Okay. I'll grab the car keys, grab your shoes and a jacket."

Relief washed over Whumpee at the fact that Caretaker understood. "I just need a second. Please go start the car right now, I'll be out in just a second."

Not two minutes later, they were driving around the city quite aimlessly. Whumpee was still clutching the knife as they told Caretaker everything that had happened. They were sobbing as they told them about the noises and the thoughts— there was really not much evidence apart from that.

Not much at all.

"Whumpee..." Caretaker began slowly.

"Don't," they muttered. "Don't. Please. I... Yeah."

Whumper had never been there at all, most likely. Caretaker sighed.

"Do you think we can go back home?"

Whumpee hesitated. "Y-yeah. I... I'm sorry for making you drive in the middle of the night. This is really embarrassing."

"It's not," they said firmly. "I'm being fully honest when I say this: I understand how terrified you must've been, and not for a moment was I upset with you, or thought you were embarrassing. I love you. I want to help. If you want me to drive around for a bit more, please tell me, and we can do that until you calm down."

Whumpee felt the tears pricking their eyes again. "C-can we drive a bit more, then? Please?"

"Of course. Whatever you need."

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped

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Not much of a prompt but:

Scary caregiver

Caregiver who is almost more intimidating than whumper but does everything in their power to protect whumpee from whumper!

YES YES YES I LOOOOOVE SCARY CARETAKERS!!!! MY BREAD AND BUTTER

content: implied captivity, no holds barred beatdown, past trauma, revenge, caretaker turned whumper, whumper turned whumpee

"Step away from my friend," Caretaker growled.

"Or what?" Whumper stupidly, so stupidly asked. If Whumpee had to guess, they were sporting that annoying smirk with it too.

Caretaker wasn't an easy person to anger. But Heaven help anyone who managed.

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut and put their hands up in front of their face just as Caretaker pounced. They could hear the sounds of a fight, mostly just Caretaker's fist connecting with Whumper's body over and over and over again while their captor whimpered.

It probably wasn't even close. That wasn't why Whumpee refused to look up.

It was just that... After all they'd been through, they didn't think seeing Caretaker beat someone to a bloody pulp would be beneficial for their friendship.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped