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i love you injured characters, i love you bloody faces, i love you torture, i love you knives, i love you manhandling, i love you field care, i love you comfort, i love you soft caretaking, i love you lasting trauma, i love you aftermath, i love you unconscious characters, i love you team taking care of each other
#<3
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"I will say it as many times as I need to for you to believe me," Caretaker promised, cupping Whumpee's beaten face in their warm hands to emphasise their words. "You did not deserve the things that man did to you. Not a single thing."
Whumpee sniffled. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
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hi angst ppl i know we r all big fans of the hidden injury trope but you know what i wanna see more of⁉️⁉️ the 'i told you i'm not feeling good but not to what extent so you assume it's fine and tell me to just keep pushing and i collapse' trope
so many ways u can take this . well meaning mentor just tryin to push their student. snippy rivalry to sudden concern when they fall over. frustrated teammate at the end of their rope snapping and feeling horribly guilty afterwards. UGH I LOVE IT theres so much u can do with it
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Hey, have you got taglists for your various series? If so, can I be added to the Lab Rats taglist? :D
yes of course!! 😊
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I love seeing a whumpee overpowered, held down, forced to indure something against their will. Fighting against all odds while being shoved down onto a table by their enemies and secured in place. Or strapped into a chair without mercy.
The strain and struggle before finally getting tired and submitting to whatever happens to them next.
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The Whumpee sits in a chair, their hands and ankles cuffed to loose chains that don’t keep them still but do keep them in the room. They don’t lift their head when the Whumper walks into the room, having long since learned that most of what the Whumper does or says to them is just pure, unadulterated bait. The Whumper drags their own chair over, the legs dragging across the floor loudly in the concrete room. They sit down and take a few minutes to just study the Whumpee. “I changed the soil on my houseplant,” the Whumper says casually. The Whumpee still looks down. “Took it out, yanked it out by the roots, rinsed them, and put it back in the pot. In some new dirt. And a new pot, for that matter.” The Whumpee tries to ignore them but can’t help but listen. They almost smile at picturing the Whumper acting so domestically as to tend to a plant. “But I’ll tell you,” the Whumper continues. “That little houseplant did not like that new pot. Not one bit. In fact that little houseplant started to wilt in its new pot. It can barely lift a leaf. Even though it has new soil and more room to grow.” The Whumper lowers their head and tries to meet the downward gaze of the Whumpee. The room is quiet between the Whumper’s words. “Sometimes we don’t know what’s good for us, do we, my little houseplant?” The Whumper’s last words land roughly in the Whumpee’s mind. A fire is lit in them. They stand suddenly in their chair and charge at the Whumper, who simply backs away playfully until the raging Whumpee reaches the end of their chains and is tugged backward. The Whumper’s face is inches from the panting and straining Whumpee’s as they just keep provoking them. “Don’t want to be called a houseplant?” they ask. “Then don’t act like one.”
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Two whumpees that despise eachother, could never consider the other a friend. They’d rather kill each other than cooperate, but in a scenario like the one they’re in… they don’t exactly have the choice. Whumper, a sadistic, cruel beast with less than pleasant intentions… well, they love having fun with their toys!
Waking up chained together, spooning as though they were lovers. Of course they freak out, pull away and scream at the other to get the hell away from them, but with their chains so short, their bindings so connected… they have no choice but to cope with this situation.
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lord almighty i need positivity on the dash please tell the person you reblog this from something kind
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Stumbles out of google docs covered in blood
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you‘re fucked up. and you’re tired. you are so, so tired.
so you write
you write them broken, you write them human, you write them spitting blood out of bruised lips, sneering and crying.
you write them desperate, you write them lonely in their bathroom, eyes red. you write them with broken mirrors and you write them angry.
you write them like they could be loved, like they are on the edge of being loved, like they could just be loved if they were only to try harder, to be enough.
you write them hated, and hating themselves, you write them ashamed and begging to God, you write them ears ringing. you write them panicked and aching, and yearning and empty.
you write them hungry, you write them with cracked lips.
you write them and you pretend that it’s not you in the pages.
you write them and pray to God yourself, that you’re not being written too.
you write them.
you’re so tired.
you keep writing them.
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Tumblr media
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It kind of surprises me to realise this, but restraints are chronically underused in a lot of otherwise whumpy media. Not the restraints themselves, but the process of actually tying up the whumpee. I’ve noticed a lot of scene cuts between initial capture and being restrained (or it’s over in a sentence or a few seconds), and I feel like there’s so much whumpy potential there.
Like. The symbolism and fear in restraining the whumpee’s limbs, especially if this is the first time it’s happened to them. The shift in the power dynamic, especially if the whumper has been established as physically or socially weaker than the whumpee. The sense of freedom, previously taken for granted, that flees with every extra loop of rope around the whumpee’s wrists. The resulting desperation. And while a completely-restrained whumpee is so fun to watch struggle, I personally love it when the whumpee still has a shot at escaping and can’t quite overpower their whumper before it’s too late.
Similarly, when the whumpee is first gagged. The initial terror when they realise what the whumper is planning, the desperate struggles to keep their mouth shut. The humiliation and invasiveness of having something stuffed past their teeth, the frantic attempts to spit it out before whumper can tie a knot or lock the thing around their head. Maybe they actually succeed, and have to go through the whole thing again with a spinning head or black eye.
I feel like the more it’s built up, the more they struggle or panic, the more impact it has when they’re defeated.
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“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not going to kill you.” Whumper whispered, crouching down by Whumpee’s side. Their gaze softened with pity, a sliver of guilt twisting their chest as they reached up to cup their captive’s tearstained cheek. “No, you’re much too valuable to lose.”
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Touch starved Whumpee feeling guilty about asking or imposing on Caretaker for affection, and Caretaker noticing. Patiently, wordlessly opening their arms, ruffling their hair, interlacing their fingers, nudging their foot under the table, lifting the edge of the blankets so they can cuddle up 💕
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your desire to write the same trope over and over again
🤝
my desire to read the same trope over and over again
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that thing where whumpee scuttles backwards on the ground as whumper approaches them and then their back hits the wall and they look up at whumper with terror and tears in their eyes
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Very controlled, put-together, cold characters losing it™️ is one of thee sexiest things in fiction
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