#Whumpee x Whumpee

[pendarling]

Stockholm Syndrome + Whump

Becoming quiet when asked, sitting still, eating and speaking as told to

When Whumpee convinces themselves that they love Whumper and it's for the best

Whumpers who let their Whumpee do anything after begging

“Escape? From what? Everything I need is right here.”

Cooking, cleaning or fulfilling other tasks without being asked

When Whumper feeds into Whumpee’s delusion that they are fine

“You’re safe with me, right? Because you trust me.” “Of course I do.”

Caretaker who tries to explain to Whumpee that they aren’t safe but Whumper acts so innocent and gentle that it makes Caretaker look bad

Whumpees who deny they were kidnapped or forget that part completely

Not being able to remember how life was like without Whumper

“Please, I need you.” “Oh, goodness. I know you do, I know…”

Whumper telling Whumpee false stories and using those times as a reason to ask for favours

Purposely making Whumpee fall sick constantly just to revive them again and overtime Whumpee becomes reliant on them

“Sorry… for always… being a burden…” “You know only I care about you, Whumpee.”

Whumpee feeling more sympathetic for Whumper when they share their (probably fake) backstory with them to get an emotional reaction

Not being able to sleep without Whumper near them

“You’re acting unusual. Less… fighting, more submitting”

Holding, gripping or touching Whumper so they know they aren’t alone

When Whumpee’s Stockholm Syndrome is so bad it gives Whumper Lima Syndrome

Neither Whumpee or Whumper lookout for reports on the news anymore

“You don’t believe a word they say?” “Not even for a minute.” “You must really like my company then, huh?”

Waking up with nightmares of what happened in the past and then being unable to recall what it was about

Forcing Whumpee to become compliant on the notion that somebody else’s life is at risk

Whumpee faking Stockholm syndrome and feeling disgusted at everything they say or do

^^^ Whumper catching them faking it!

^^^ Instead of confronting them they just make Whumpee do a lot of things to humiliate them until they really do give in

Part 2

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

~~~

MASTERLIST

#whump community #Whump #Whumpee #Whumper #caretaker x Whumpee #Whumpee x Whumpee #Whump prompts #writing prompt #whump dialogue #whump stuff #pet Whump #intimate whumper #whumpee x caretaker #whumpee x whumper

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee wakes up in the morning and stretches, same as always and looks around their room. They're confused why their significant other is missing, did they get up early?

Then they remember the fight with Whumper, and they know they're gone. The bed feels empty now and they can still hear their voice.

In honor of my baby, Callie. We had to put her down yesterday due to health complications. She was a rescue dog and I had a good four years with her, estimating she was 17. Love you.

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #dead whumpee #implied death #animal death #domestic whump #whump aftermath #recovery whump #whumpee x caretaker #whumpee x whumpee #whump angst

[favouritefearlesswhumper]

Demon Whumper and Human Whumpee is always a great one.

Demon Whumper that's a curse or accidental summon/possession.

Demon Whumper that shows up in mirrors, where only whumper can see. Only whumpee can feel claws digging into their skin, hot breath at the back of their neck, a laugh hissing in their ear.

Whumpee unable to sleep at night, knowing they'll wake up with gashes ripping into their back, their sides, their thighs- blood spotting the sheets, and their limbs burning. Memories of an impossibly hot body pressing against their own, of cruel taunts and promises of eternal torture. A long tongue sliding up the skin at their cheeks, soaking up the tears that fall.

Whumpee waking up to find a strange tattoo-like symbol on their lower back- but one not imprinted with any ink from this world.

Whumpee choking back a sob as they realise what this means-

Realise they've been claimed.

#demons #demon whumper #supernatural whump #demon x human #human whumpee #whumpee x whumpee #whump #whumper #whumpee #whump prompt #mine #possession #sort of #demon possession #demonic haunting #maybe thats a better tag

[urlocalwhumper]

whumpee couple are both dying of the same ailment. there's nothing they or anyone else can do about it, and they know it. so they decide to just keep up the charade that everything is fine. they don't want to dwell on the inevitable, they just want to be with each other for whatever time they have left.

(bonus if one dies first and the other, despite theoretically being in decent enough shape to live a bit longer, just gives up fighting and dies shortly after, not even getting up from beside their deceased partner)

#whump #whump prompts #character death #dying whumpee #multiple whumpees #whumpee x whumpee #terminal illness #mine

[whumperofworlds]

Two bound Whumpees who are lovers who hold hands to the best of their abilities to comfort one another, my beloved. ❤️

#whump #tied up #whumpee #multiple whumpees #whumpee x whumpee #thats not a tag? really? #comfort #holding hands #whump trope

[pigeonwhumps]

Diaries of Eloise and Agatha Stanbury and Ira Waterhouse

Taglist: @painful-pooch (also @octopus-reactivated and @maracujatangerine since your actor pet post sparked this idea I'm tagging you too! Even though there isn't much acting whump actually in this, only the characters...)

Recently digitised diary entries of former pets Eloise and Agatha Stanbury, and their guardian Ira Waterhouse. All three were British pet liberation activists in the early to mid 20th century. These entries are from before they set up the Dockside Boarding House, commonly regarded as the first and longest-running safehouse in Britain.

[note from Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist to Raphael Fiori, Apprentice Digital Assistant: take out longest-running, you idiot. You want people to know where they live?]

1.7k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, film whump, recovery whump, broken jaw mention, non-con nudity (non-sexual) mention, PTSD, whipping mention, gagged mention, kidnapping mention, beating mention

Diary of Eloise Stanbury, January 1927 - August 1928

Related topics: Eloise Stanbury, Agatha Stanbury, Ira Waterhouse, Pet Liberation History, World Pet History, 1920s Britain, Social History, British Diaries

Transcribed by Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist at Rising Sun Bay Archive, Rising Sun Bay, ON

1st of January 1927

Dear Diary,

Agatha is teaching me to rede and rite, and as it is a new year I am of a mind to rite down sum of my thorts. I am asured this is entirely privat. We shall see.

Master's film studio went bankrupt last month. I cannot express how relieved I am. Surely now they will stop serching for us. I hope so. If we ar found we ar ded, I no this. The collaps has, however, stirred up my memories and the titeness in my gut again.

One of my strongest memories of the studio is wen we filmed propaganda during the Great War. It was the only time Agatha and I wer involved in filming for the war effort, but it was time enuf. Agatha and I spent ar time not filming counting the ways the film munishons factory treated pets differently to ar real one. And Agatha sumhow laffed so hard, she disrupted the paid crew and snorted thin gruel out her nose.

Then the camera operator broke her jaw so she culd not disturb them agen. It was okay, cos she did not need to talk and they only needed to film her back anyway, but then Master bete her later for showing him up, until she culd barely work. That part was wors.

My dremes ar confusing, full of fire and drowning even tho I was never in the fire. Ira ses it's cos I am so scared of fire. Agatha ses it's cos I almost drowned. I am not so sure of either. Maybe it is a punishment, for burning down the studio. Maybe I should not hav dun that. I am a free pet but a pet nonetheless, and arson is a crime.

Agatha's braver than me. She makes me braver too. I would never have dared laff before she was rented to Master, let alone run. I'm not sure the defians was always good for her tho. She has many scars, inside and out. I luv her, scars and all, but I don't no how she can be so brave.

There was a servis on Christmas for the local heros of the Great War. Mr Foster was mentioned. That scares me. He scares me, and I do not understand how Agatha is not scared. He was her owner for over a decade, after all.

She scoffed at that, wen I asked. She sed that there's no reason for her to be afrade, and she wuld like to find and thank the soldier who killed Mr Foster. She also sed he's not a hero. I think she should be careful. We didn't see the body. Wat if he comes back?

It's stupid. I no it's stupid. Even if he was still alive he'd hav better things to do than come after Agatha. He'd hav to, right? And I am grateful that he's ded. If he wasn't, I may not hav been abl to stay with Agatha after the Great War ended. It just feels wrong to celebrate so much wen we never saw a body.

Ira's talking about buying a bording hous, away from here. We're so close to the site of the new National Pet Training Centre, and it feels like there ar inspectors around every corner now. Also I do not understand half of wat Ira says about lacking in the gud food and spase, cos this is the best I hav ever eaten and I can live on far less, but I think that is also a reason. I do not no why a bording hous tho. I am scared to move, this is the safest I hav ever felt, but I will hav Agatha and Ira, and I will not go back to being a pet.

My name is Eloise Stanbury, sister, possibly, to Agatha Stanbury, ward of Ira Waterhouse, and I am a free woman.

Eloise Stanbury

_

Diary of Agatha Stanbury, October 1926 - February 1927

Related topics: Agatha Stanbury, Eloise Stanbury, Ira Waterhouse, Pet Liberation History, World Pet History, 1920s Britain, Social History, British Diaries

Transcribed by Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist at Rising Sun Bay Archive, Rising Sun Bay, ON

26th of December, 1926

Dear Diary,

Eloise asked me yesterday whether I am still afraid of Mr Foster. I think I managed to convince her that I am not, but we shall see. She has enough on her plate without worrying about me too. She's terrified already, and if she knows I am scared it will make her worse.

I am scared, though. So scared. Mr Foster is dead but I cannot forget everything he did to me. The decade when clothes were an extremely rare occurrence, when I almost forgot my own name. He once claimed that training was half the fun in owning a pet, and it showed. I came to London for the season and was kidnapped to be his pet instead. The scars are never going to leave me.

I cannot sleep alone in the dark anymore. I used to love it, until Mr Foster, but now it's like I cannot get my mind out of his house. Even after being owned by Mr Hayes instead for over ten years I cannot do it. How can it be legal to leave a person in your will, anyway? I confess that the lack of pet owning in my parents' circles has left me rather ignorant in the matter, but it still seems wrong.

Mr Foster was terrifying. He still is. I see him in half the faces on the streets, when I am brave enough to leave the house. Eloise says I'm brave, but I am not so sure. If I was so brave, surely Mr Foster's rules and sadism would not still be so affecting?

Ira does not agree with me. She says it is perfectly reasonable, that soldiers still have shell shock so why shouldn't I be affected by being scarred? I am unsure what to do with that.

I have fought, but it was not a war. Soldiers are not caged naked and gagged with horrible experimental gags, or whipped and beaten by sadists. They are not scarred on film simply because the starring pet is too valuable to be damaged herself.

That sounds like I blame Eloise. I do not. None of this was her fault. I hope, if I had ever become an actor as a person, I would have paid attention to the pets forced to perform, but most likely I wouldn't. I try not to think about that.

Mr Foster still haunts me, awake and asleep. Eloise does not know. She cannot know. She has enough nightmares of her own, and I do not want to wake her up from mine. I am so, so glad Mr Foster is dead, and I think (I hope) that Eloise thinks that is all I am. I told her the truth, just not the whole truth. I really would like to thank the soldier who killed Mr Foster. But I also wish I was not constantly so scared.

With love

Agatha Stanbury

_

Diary of Ira Waterhouse, December 1926 - October 1927

Related topics: Ira Waterhouse, Agatha Stanbury, Eloise Stanbury, Pet Liberation History, World Pet History, 1920s Britain, Social History, British Diaries

Transcribed by Calixte Văduva, Assistant Archivist at Rising Sun Bay Archive, Rising Sun Bay, ON

Wednesday, December 8th, 1926

Not content with having a London office, the WRU are now building a large training centre nearby. It's too close. Far too close. The numbers of inspectors and recapture officers are increasing daily it seems like now work has started, and my girls haven't left the house for days. Even when they do, they come back spooked, especially Eloise. If she was a cat, her hair would stand on end constantly.

The supporters of this new 'pet' class claim that it's entirely voluntary. Maybe for some it is. Maybe they really believe that. But if you're signing a lifetime contract, and being given a drug that's supposed to induce amnesia, making you more compliant and reliant on your owners, I'm not sure that it counts.

It is not always voluntary, anyway. A few weeks ago, Agatha told me her story of being kidnapped into it. How she tried to show an inspector her lack of a seller's mark and number, and he had her tattooed for a bribe. There must be others like her. As bad as the pet trade is, it feels even worse without even the pretence of volunteering.

We need to move. We are so close to the training centre, and one day our house is sure to be inspected. The girls will certainly be taken and killed, with no regard to even Agatha's kidnapping (I have my suspicions about her upbringing but I cannot find any living relatives in the society pages). And I won't come out of it well either.

I have been thinking of starting a boarding house. There must be others like my girls in need of a kind hand and an escape from the wretched pet system. I had to stop giving Agatha cleaning chores because she'd tremble in fear until I declared the house spotless, and Eloise sometimes stays in one spot for hours, forgetting that she is allowed and able to move. Even, maybe especially, if she's uncomfortable. They are both scarred, inside and out, and I'm sure there are others who could use a safe place to stay, at the very least.

I haven't brought my idea up to either of the girls yet, although I feel certain that neither would object to it. They're both kind people, although Eloise wouldn't like me calling her that. She gets prickly when anyone except Agatha says nice things about her.

If Eloise was an animal, she would definitely be a cat.

Ira Waterhouse

#whump #whump writing #bbu #box boy universe #box babe #pet whump #historical whump #eloise stanbury #agatha stanbury #ira waterhouse #calixte oc #caretaker and whumpee #whumpee and whumper #multiple whumpees #whumpee x whumpee #epistolary #recovery whump #most of the warnings are only mentions #nothing graphic #can you tell that ira likes cats?

[mry-2]

Touch starved but sex repulsed whumpee X touch repulsed but hypersexual whumpee

They're in love with each other, but they're unable to love each other.

That's it. That's the thought.

#whumpee #whumpee x whumpee #i don't even know if that's possible #if not just ignore my rambling

[mothmxwhump]

A day late but a valentines drawing of my and @wormywhumpbabeyy ‘s ocs Bastet (mine, left) and Silas (his, right)

#art #recovery whump #whump art #ocs #character art #cartoon art #whumpee x Whumpee #catboy

[cryptidwritings]

"They're Not Here"

@themerrywhumpofmay

Day 10 - Forgotten, Recapture-ish, Gravel

[masterlist]

CW: amnesia, noncon drugging, betrayal

"Ugh... ouch..." Whumpee groaned, blinking to allow the light in though their head hurt. leaves brushed their face as they sat upright, nestled inside a grouping of bushes that sat just underneath a cliff face.

The scratches, bruises, and aches gave them a clue as to what had happened. They had fallen from... they squinted their eyes and looked up. The top was tall; at least sixty feet... they felt grateful the bushes had cushioned some of the fall. Only thing was, they couldn't remember anything...

The last thing they remembered, they were home, brushing their teeth.

Whumpee stood. Maybe they were getting ready for a hike? They looked down at their clothing; torn-up joggers and a blood-stained t-shirt. No shoes?

They looked around. No shoes.

Definitely not hiking. Did they even like hikes?

"No use in staying here..." Whumpee said to themselves as they tried to get up. The aches were bearable. Whumpee was surprised that they hadn't broken anything from a fall like that. Truly lucky.

Whumpee walked along the cliff, keeping an eye out for a trail. There was no way they would make it up the steep slope that they had likely fallen down from.

A few minutes later, and Whumpee stumbled upon another stroke of luck; a hiking trail that led up the cliff. They walked the opposite way, down, through the trees. As the canopy thickened, the light dropped away and the humidity settled in. Whumpee took a deep breath, feeling the muscles in their back strain.

Whumpee continued, barely feeling the dirt under their feet. Maybe they took barefoot walks often. Maybe they lived close by; feeling comfortable enough to leave without water... or maybe their pack was still up the cliff... they'd have to check later.

Then the trail came to an end at a makeshift wooden gate. Above it were the words "TRAIL'S END LODGE."

The sign made Whumpee feel... strange... though they couldn't place why. Maybe it was the way the letters were made of scraggled, carved pieces of wood? Or that everything beyond the fence looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years?

Either way, Whumpee reasoned that a lodge must have a phone. So they opened the gate, and continued walking along the leaf-covered walkway towards the door. The screen was off it's hinges, placed adjacent to the actual door, covering a window and paint-chipped shutter.

They could smell burning wood wafting from a nearby chimney.

Whumpee raised their fist and suddenly felt their hand shaking as an overwhelming anxiety settled into their stomach and branched to their heart and eyes.

Yes. Yes this was familiar.

But why did it feel so... haunting?

"They're not here."

Whumpee whipped around to see a simple looking person approaching from the gate. They had dark circles under their eyes, and their medium hair was a mess of twigs and leaves.

"You don't have to worry," they concluded, walking up the steps.

Whumpee backed away, and the person squinted their eyes in confusion before attempting to close the distance again. Whumpee was overwhelmed by the feeling of... this place...

They backed away again, and the person's face turned from confusion to hurt. Hurt? Why?

"W-who are you?" Whumpee swallowed, pressing their back against the door and looking around for an escape.

"You... don't remember me?" They asked, studying Whumpee's face carefully, "We lived together," they said, walking towards the door.

Whumpee moved away, and the person rifled through their pockets, pulling out a key. They stuck it in the door and opened it. The smell of the fire wafted out of the door, and they looked at Whumpee.

"Come on in, I was out there looking for you," they smiled, then walked inside, leaving Whumpee on the porch. They were confused.

"You know who I am?" Whumpee asked, walking into the door frame. They watched as the person took off their jacket and hung it up on the hook. The inside of the cabin was much nicer than the exterior; the fire was lit, glowing, illuminating the cozy couch which led to a small dining area and the country kitchen.

On the far wall there was a staircase which led to a loft area with two doors; two bedrooms, Whumpee guessed.

The person continued to the kitchen, grabbing some food out of the fridge.

"Yes, I do. Come, eat," they said, opening a tupperware and serving cold spaghetti on two plates.

Whumpee hesitated another moment; looking inside. The person walked to the table, setting both plates down and sat behind one, glancing at Whumpee through the door.

"The screen's broke. You're letting the bugs in."

"O-oh, sorry," Whumpee said, walking inside. They set foot on the floor and... felt sick. Terribly sick.

"Can you tell me who I am... what happened?" they asked.

The person looked up from their meal, eyes stoic, and they stood, grabbing the untouched plate of food and carried it towards Whumpee. They held it out for them.

"Eat first. You look hungry."

Whumpee smelt the food and, yes, they were. They grabbed the plate, as the person gently grabbed their elbow, pulling them inside and sitting them on the couch.

They sat on the chair, watching as Whumpee scarfed down the entire plate. With some food in their stomach, they felt a little better, even taking a moment to look around. This was definitely a hunters lodge; memorabilia from past conquests were up on the walls.

"So, you wanted to know what happened?" The person asked, sitting forward in the seat. They bent down, pulling on the handle of the closest end table.

"Y-yes..." Whumpee said, still clinging to their plate.

The person reached underneath the table and pulled out a mason jar of light-colored liquid. They opened it and took a drink before shutting the fridge again. They then looked at Whumpee's eyes.

"I'll tell you, though there isn't much to tell," the person began, setting the drink on their knee as they looked around, "you and I are best friends," they took another drink, looking at Whumpee again.

Whumpee tried to process it.

"We hunt together, tell jokes, entertain each other," the person smiled, and Whumpee began to relax a bit, "it was a good time."

"Was?" They asked, and the person's smile faded.

"Yes," they responded, looking at the fire now, "until they tried to take you away."

Whumpee's eyes narrowed, "who?"

"Oh... I don't know their real name..." the person chugged the rest of the drink, letting out a satsified "ah" when they were done. They then sat back, "they called themselves Whumper."

Whumpee froze. The name. That name.

They pressed their hands together to stop the shaking that began to reappear. Their heart beat went fast, filling out their ears as the light of the fire began to grow more sinister; sounding like the crunching of gravel underneath steel toed boots.

"You know what's funny about this place?"

Whumpee looked at the person in front of them, blinking fast, breathing faster. They squeezed their hands together, but the shaking wouldn't stop.

The person looked at Whumpee and smiled; genuinely.

"There's no deed," they again leaned forward, "as long as you have the key..." they pulled out the ring of keys again, their smile turning sinister, "you have the house, and everything that comes with it."

Whumpee cleared their throat as the room began to spin. They shook their head, but that just made it so much worse, and they tried to stand. To run.

"No, no, don't strain yourself," the person said kindly, taking their fingertips and gently pushing Whumpee back.

Whumpee felt like they were beginning to float, yet sinking against the couch. They became weightless, and terrified, like they were dangerously close to the stratosphere where certain death would follow.

"Who..." they tried to keep their eyes on the spinning figure ahead of them, "who are you?"

The person smiled and looked down at their wrist.

"Well, to the old you... I guess I'd be... Whumpee One," they placed a hand on Whumpee's shoulder, "your good friend who went through hell and high water to get us out of here... but..." they stroked Whumpee's cheek, "who you abandoned at the top of the cliff when Whumper tracked us down."

They pushed their thumb over the only keychain on the ring; a crosshair symbol, similar to the one they had tended to on Whumpee's shoulder all those months ago. One that matched their own.

They then looked at Whumpee again, watching as their eyes began to flutter closed. They were fighting it.

"Don't worry," they stood, still clenching the crosshairs, "I'll finish the job you couldn't..."

Whumpee could feel themselves slipping, hearing the other's voice in their ear, wrapping into their subconscious as they fell into darkness.

"After I have my fun."

#the merry whump of may #they're not here #whump drabble #whump scenario #whump prompts #whump writing #tw noncon drugging #tw food #whumpee with amnesia #whumpee x whumpee #two whumpees #this one is spicy i like it i might continue this when i have the time

[chiharuuu22]

Shhhh! Keep your voice down and don't be loud. Whumpee is sleeping (or has just fallen asleep).

In Caretaker's arms after being rescued.

In a hospital bed in a recovery ward (or perhaps an ICU) after receiving care and treatment or perhaps emergency surgery.

On a bed in a room in a recovery house. Bonus points for the house are that the house belongs to the Caretaker and the bed BELONGS TO CARETAKER (AND CARETAKER'S BEDROOM)!!!!

In the passenger seat. Sleep on your back in the back seat or sleep in a half-sitting position after the seat is lowered slightly on the driver's side seat. Bonus points Caretaker puts on the jacket or coat to cover Whumpee.

On the sofa in front of the fireplace.

In a wheelchair while taking a leisurely walk.

On the couch on the terrace.

On the Caretaker's lap. Bonus points with the accompaniment of Caretaker's soft voice lulling Whumpee to sleep and caressing Whumpee's hair.

Sleep leaning on the Caretaker's shoulder when sitting side by side. Bonus points when they are in a discussion with the team members and Whumpee suddenly falls asleep exhausted.

Anything you want to add?

#whumpee #caretaker #whump #caretaking #whump writing #whump scenario #recovery whump #whump dialogue #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump tropes #whump comfort #sleeping whumpee #sleep whump #comfort #sleep

[valcaira]

Attention Whump Community!

Clogging disability tags is a massive problem that we need to address. Many tags, especially those surrounding permanent injuries, paralysis, vision loss and certain illnesses have become unusable due to being flooded with unrelated things. Yes, that includes your writing. Those tags are not for you. It's isolating, frustrating and depressing to try finding a community and other people who share your issues but all that comes up is whump, fandom shit, gifs, headcanons, etc.

I'm newly paralyzed. I have looked at many tags surrounding paralysis, trying to find support, a community, anything of people struggling with the same thing. Nothing. There's barely anything for us in the general disabilty tags. I am BEGGING you to understand and recognize how AWFUL it is.

So, I have a proposition. A tag you can and should use exclusively for disability content in whump writing. Not any other tag surrounding disability, lest you'll clog it up.

#disabled whumpee

It's tempting to use more specific tags, I get it. Due to being in the whump community myself I know #medical whump is already a tag. You have those tags. Use them. Don't use the disability tags. Don't clog up the few spaces us disabled people have.

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #whump meta #whumpee #whumper #caretaker #medical whump #disabled whumpee #hurt/comfort #whump writing #whumpee x caretaker #whumpee x whumper #whumpee turned whumper #whumper turned whumpee #caretaker turned whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker #whumper turned caretaker #yes i'm using all the whump tags i can think of for visibility #this is important #whump psa #whump prompt

[bamber344]

ok so superhero whump scenario:

Villain is Hero's favourite 'bad guy' to fight. Villain never really hurts anyone with their actions, and anything they steal is usually anonymously returned within a few days. The worst crime they've really committed is property damage. Hero is convinced they're just doing it for fun, as evidenced by Villain's very melodramatic and performatively cheesy attitude during their confrontations

Eventually, Villain disappears. Hero assumes they just decided to put down their cape and mask, though is a little saddened that they now don't have any real 'comic relief' in their day-to-day villain fighting.

A few months later, Hero is in Superhero's HQ when they come across a locked door they hadn't noticed before. Overcome with curiosity, they figure out how to get it open and take a peek inside.

Even without their iconic costume or mask, Hero would recognise Villain anywhere. Villain looks awful. Emaciated, bruised, scarred, curled up in a shivering ball in the corner of what Hero now recognises as a cell. How long has Superhero kept them here? And why? Hero doesn't know, all they do know is that this is wrong, and that their old rival needs their help, Superhero be damned.

#whump #whump writing #whump prompt #whump scenario #superhero whump #villain whumpee #superhero whumper #hero caretaker #hero x villain

[jump-in-the-whump]

the weary feverish whumpee aesthetic™

I love it when a whumpee is so weak that they:

are bedridden, much to their discomfort. They long to leave the bed, but cannot because they are too weak, and their legs shake at the thought of taking even a single step.

can't keep their eyes open. Their eyelids flutter but due to tiredness and too much light, they always close again. However, the whumpee has learned to rely on other senses, and is able to recognize the caretaker's voice or touch among a thousand others.

have to always lie down. They try to sit up, perhaps to eat something, but after a few minutes their head starts spinning and their body starts screaming because of the effort. Much to their chagrin, they have to force themselves back down or else they will likely pass out.

are not hungry. Their body can't handle even plain broth, making them queasy and dizzy. So they continue to refuse food, their only source of livelihood, and this obviously worsens their condition.

are too sensitive to touch. Their skin that seems to boil with fever, the bedsheets that rub down their limbs like sandpaper, the hair that sticks to their sweaty forehead, even the simple touch of the caretaker, a touch that is supposed to comfort them, is too much. They start to hate all these little things.

Please, feel free to add more.

#whump #whump community #whumpee #whump prompt #whump scenario #caretaker #fever #weak #whumpee x caretaker #sick #hurt/comfort #jump-in-the-writing

[ms-write-a-lot]

Villain stared at Hero, who stood bleeding all over his expensive doormat. ‘Hey.’ The Hero croaked, swaying to a side. They tried for a charming smile, but there was blood in their teeth. ‘Mind if I…crash here for tonight?’

And then they did crash. Into the fucking floor.

#writeblr #writing #my writing #hero x villain #villain x hero #character tropes #character dynamics #whump writing #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #whump prompts #whumpee x caretaker #whumpblr #ms write a lot

[solar-eclippse]

Oh, to love a living weapon. A being whose entire identity centers around violence, who finds far too much comfort in being an attack dog, a source of hurt, because embracing violence means they have SOME form of agency. Oh, to love someone who has been broken down for years upon years, until they're more scar than skin. And maybe they don't want to heal. Maybe they don't know how. Maybe they adore their abuser too much to even consider breaking away from them. They have always known that they're something dangerous, and they have finally found someone who is happy to make use of their violence. They're more than willing to be broken down, in exchange for finding a place to belong.

Oh, to love a living weapon. To love a monster, an attack dog. They're kneeling at your feet, and their grin is hesitant, their fingers shaking, because they only ever want to be loved. If you don't provide that affection, they might just fall apart.

You wash the blood off their hands. Whatever messed up dynamic goes on between them and their handler isn't any of your business. You're the one who takes care of them afterwards.

Oh, to love a living weapon. Oh, to kiss their cuts and bruises.

You embrace them for what they are - not despite of it.

#whump #living weapon whumpee #caretaker x whumpee #whump prompt #whump scenario #proselfship #selfproship

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ I GOT YOU ~ PROTECTIVE PROMPTS

requested by: @rainywolfden & anonymous request: protective prompts. especially some family based ones, but just scenarios where one character thinks they need to protect another character would be nice

Feel free to use and reblog!

defending the other when someone says something only slightly criticising about them

"You take that back!"

jumping in front of the other, no matter whether they're being physically or verbally attacked

putting a hand on the other's shoulder to show their support

not accepting hate/critique of the other because no one knows their real struggle

"I actually think A is doing a great job. You shouldn't judge when you know nothing."

getting furious when someone takes advantage of the other's weaknesses

noticing the other struggle without them having to say a word

always feeling responsible to protect their younger sibling(s)

never letting their children out of sight because something could happen in these two seconds

"Leave my baby alone!"

accompanying the other home at night

looking out for potential dangers all the time

comforting the other as soon as they're alone

"Hey! What did you just say to my sibling/child/friend/etc.?!"

seeking the one who hurt the other to take revenge

"You messed with the wrong one!"

not leaving the other's side 'just in case'

only stepping in when the other can't handle it anymore

"You've got some real nerve."

#protective prompts #whump prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #prompts #otp prompts #otp #family prompts #found family prompts #family au #found family au #caretaker x whumpee #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writers on tumblr #writeblr #setting prompts #scenario prompts #dialogue prompts #20 prompts