i-write-whump · a day ago
When the whumpee just finished a fight, and they think they’re fine, but then one of their teammates hugs them, and pain explodes from their ribs. The whumpee making a pained noise, but being too exhausted to try to pull away, and slumping in their teammates arms. Their teammate being so startled that they almost dropping them, but managing to gently lower them to the ground as they ask the whumpee what’s wrong. The whumpee gasping out something about their ribs, and their teammate lifting the whumpee’s shirt to find the start of what will become some dramatic bruises. The teammate being so worried that they immediately scoop the whumpee up as gently as possible, and carry them off to find a medic to help them.
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sisterofthewolves · 4 months ago
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Picture by Mario Kern
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josselyn1021 · 11 days ago
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Buster Moon 😂
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aceofwhump · 5 months ago
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American Horror Stories -1x06
Aaron Tveit whump compilation
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ilargilore · 4 months ago
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let me tell you all that's happened over the last few centuries
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whumpster-dumpster · 5 months ago
Underappreciated trope? A tired, sweaty, dirt covered whumpee half conscious as caretaker carries them piggyback style.
Oooo, yeah! Caretaker reminding them to hold on around their neck every time they dip in and out of unconsciousness and their grip starts to fail -- that’s good stuff!
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karlswrites · 5 months ago
Pride In Arms
First things first, this is gonna be a multi-part one-shot series. I don’t even know if that’s a real thing in fanfic writing, but it is starting today.
Today’s special boi is Luci-Goosey, which I’ve named him out of admiration.
I hope you enjoy this half-headcanon/half-one-shot of Luci carrying you!
Warnings: None! Enjoy your fluff!
Word Count: 1,126
Love ya, Luci.
Boy howdy, you were tired, plain and simple. After all the strenuous activities the student council put you through, exhaustion had begun to swallow you. Walking had become a challenge. Even lifting yourself from the House of Lamentation’s main stairwell was now impossible. You were halfway up the stairs when your legs gave out.
Now, you were stranded, feeling light-headed and dizzy. It sucked. For a moment, you contemplated summoning one of the demon brothers to help out. Eyeing the sigils on your arm belonging to Mammon, Levi, and Beel, you decided none were suited for the job; Mammon would freak out and complain, Levi would make some sarcastic comment, and Beel would be eating. Instead, you needed someone strong, serious, and reliable. Crap, you needed Lucifer.
As far as you knew, he was almost always the demon for the job. Diavolo relied on him a lot and for good reason. However, the thought of actually relying on him worried you just as much as it enticed you. In your daze, you imagined him standing before you, smirk and all, with his dark crimson eyes peering into your soul. Lucifer would undoubtedly help you, but there was the threat of him needing something in return. He might assign you even more work, or he might find compensation via other slightly more promiscuous means. That thought sent a shiver down your spine. The growing warmth spreading across your cheeks didn’t help.
Suddenly, a dark figure appeared at the stairwell’s base. Speak of the devil: it was Lucifer himself (Sorry, not sorry, but I’ve been waiting to make that joke). His figure was blurry in your hazy eyes, and you squinted to better focus on his expression. It was blank, not to your surprise. Lucifer was looking as disinterested as ever, and you almost laughed. He noticed this from below; of course, he did, as his attention was on you ever since he entered the room.
Taking graceful steps, he strode up the stairs to meet you. He stopped at your feet and looked down on you. His countenance was just as you imagined: a small smirk pulled at his lips, and his crimson eyes glinted in the house’s dim light.
“What are you doing lying around?” he asked, his smirk widening with each word. You let out a tiny scoff, your shoulders slumping forward.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m tired,” you retorted. It seemed as though your response amused him. You didn’t doubt the sadist was enjoying the situation.
“Listen, I’m only like this because of all the Student Council tasks today,” you explained to him. With a huff, Lucifer dropped down in front of you. His eyes softened, but his smirk stayed the same.
“Diavolo sometimes forgets how fragile humans are.” It was his feeble attempt to cheer you up.
Then, you heard him mumble something else about Diavolo being unreasonable under his breath. Lucifer remarking against authority (twice) was unheard of.
“Careful, Luci,” you started, “wouldn’t want the Lord himself hearing that-” Lucifer’s quiet laugh interrupted you. What was once a smug smirk was replaced by a playful grin.
“You needn’t worry. I’m more concerned about you.” His words surprised you. They were kind and genuine, fairly different from his usual aloof nature. What he did next shocked you, though, as he carefully wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“May I?” he asked, pulling you into his chest.
The unexpected softness had you scrambling for any coherent thought. You opted for a nod, and Lucifer hooked his other arm under your knees. He picked you up in one fluid motion, and you noticed that his red eyes never left yours. There was a slight pressure against your body that kept you glued to his. Luci had you locked in. He almost felt princely. With the absence of a white horse, you half-expected Cerberus to burst through the doors and carry you into the void, not a sunset.
“You seem out of it,” Lucifer commented. You only nodded again, not about to let those thoughts slip into words. The demon hummed in response and began walking up the rest of the stairs.
His steps were long and slow, careful not to add any unpleasant feeling to your daze by moving too quickly. Taking advantage of the situation, you nuzzled your head into his shoulder. Luci’s soft velvet cape felt soft and smooth against your cheek. The cape’s fur collar brushed against your nose, making you giggle. Lucifer did not comment on the noise, but you swore you saw some hint of pink on his cheeks.
You realized you were way too aware of everything. You could feel how his hands carried you, how his thumbs would frequently rub circles into your side. It was both a blessing and a curse that RAD’s uniform covered your legs. If Luci had access to your skin, you’d be done for. The fires of hell would consume you, and you’d be seeing Heaven a lot sooner than expected. Seriously, how could his thumbs rubbing circles into you be both relaxing and exhilarating at the same time? You hoped you were having a similar effect on him, though you truly didn’t expect him to feel much. This was Lucifer, after all.
He passed your door and continued walking. Before you had a chance to question him, he quickened his pace and arrived at the last door down the hall. He gently nudged it open with his shoulder, careful not to bonk you against the doorframe. Through half-lidded eyes, you could see how focused he was carrying you. He appeared more focused here than he did when doing his own work. It was almost impressive. It made you smile. You sighed contently, snuggling closer into him. Lucifer mimicked you, a heavy sigh of his own escaping from his lips.
The next course of action was to find a place to lay you. He set you down on a rather large red leather couch (try saying that 5 times fast), and the cool material was a vast contrast to Luci’s warmth. The demon must have sensed that you missed him because he quickly shrugged his cape off. Luci draped the cape over you, satisfied with how you immediately buried yourself into it. You gripped the hem, burying your cheeks in fur and wrapping yourself into a velvet cocoon. It was almost as cozy as him. At least it smelled like him. With the overflowing smell of cologne and the comfortable material, your daze shifted to sleepiness. The last thing you remembered before slipping into unconsciousness was Lucifer’s back. He was heading towards his desk, no doubt about to continue working. You swore you saw Luci look back at you and smile before your eyes completely shut.
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metamorphesque · 6 months ago
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An Interview with Ada Limón Jon Riccio
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snuffybucket · 3 months ago
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In Your Arms Pose Pack
From sweet to sinister. Multiple combos for all your carrying needs. 
Download and full details from here.
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shaniadakitty · 7 months ago
Got inspired by @leafysships ! they drew their OC being carried by selever, and well I made my own twist UwU
now my OC Seraphina is matched up!
thank you @luzysabel for support and getting me to join this Fandom :3
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me hopes chu like OwO
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queenofcringe · 3 months ago
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Same picture yall cant convince me otherwise
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i-write-whump · 4 months ago
When the whumpee has a horrible headache, but they’re stuck waiting for a friend to pick them up. The caretaker who is waiting with them letting the whumpee curl up with their head in their lap, and playing with their hair to try to distract them. The whumpee mostly dozing off by the time their friend arrives to pick them up, and the caretaker carrying them to the car. The caretaker gently sitting them down and buckling their seatbelt for them, and explaining to the friend how to take care of the whumpee once they’ve gotten them home.
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sisterofthewolves · 3 months ago
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josselyn1021 · 24 days ago
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trope-appreciation-tuesdays · 3 months ago
When caretaker and whumpee are not enemies, bit dislike having to be together. Caretaker scolds Whumpee every chance they get, and Whumpee is rebellious as a result. Then whumpee gets a really bad fever, and Caretaker feels horribly guilty, and carries whumpee to bed to tend to them.
(Based on a story a friend is writing)
Sounds amazing!
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abluescarfonwaston · a year ago
I’ve Got you
Whumptober prompt 7: Carrying! Featuring Doesn’t know he’s Buff Buff!Jaskier!
“No- no no no no! Geralt Geralt you have to wake up. You have to get up! Geralt I don’t think you got all of them and oh gods oh gods we’re going to die. Yep. Yep oh gods we are so dead.”
His head lolled. “Go.” He managed between the blood loss and dizziness. Tried to push him away with a heavy hand. “Run.” He didn’t have the strength to order or request. So he begged. “Go.”
“Fuck off.” The bard snapped. Looking around terrified. “I’m not leaving you and that’s final.”
It would be. It would be the fools final act.
He woke up on a bed.
He looked around the room. Alarmed.
Jaskier groaned from the floor where he was massaging his legs.
He didn’t want to ask.
Jaskier looked up and he knew he wouldn’t have to.
“Finally awake I see! What do you have to say to your hero Geralt? Your Savior? The man to which you owe your very life?”
He squawked. “How dare you! I carried you into town on my back no less and you have the gall- the audacity- to call me a liar?” 
“There is no way you did that.” He sized Jaskier up in his frilly clothing. “Tell the truth.”
Jaskier glowered at him. He pouted and went back to massaging his legs.
“I actually did something heroic for once- my arms and legs are killing me by the way - and you don’t believe me. Of course.”
“You do lie. Alot.” He pointed out. Completely justified in his response. “Or would you like to tell me again how you killed that bruxa last month?”
He sputtered angrily from the floor.
“Master Jaskier?” A girl poked her head from behind the screen in the room. “Your baths ready.”
“You got me a bath?” He asked.
“No!” Jaskier chortled. “I got me a bath. You are not allowed to get the bandages wet.” 
He stood and tossed off layers, stopping only to thank the girl with a quick kiss on the cheek. She blushed red and quickly made her way for the door. She hesitated. Stole a final peek back at his- undoubtedly- undressed form before blushing even darker and closing the door as she fled.
He tried to inspect the wounds. They’d been wrapped and he could smell some concoction applied to them. By far more skilled hands than Jaskier’s- who could not stand the sight of blood without nausea and shaking.
“Did you spend my entire reward on a room and healer?” He growled.
“No- the healer gave me a very reasonable price and you spent most of your reward on this very lovely room.”
“Stop wasting my money!”
Jaskier sloshed around in the tub. Mocking him with a bath he could not enjoy. 
“You’re the one that said a witcher never dies in his bed.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s your bed. You bought it.” He saw the shadow of Jaskier’s leg in the screen. Stuck high out of the water as he scrubbed it. “So you couldn’t die.”
“You're an idiot.”
“I will remind you which one of us graduated from Oxenfurt.”
“And when was the last time that was useful?”
Jaskier snorted. He offered no answer, instead singing through the remainder of his bath.
Jaskier’s voice was a terrible thing. Because it was so devastatingly beautiful that it made it easy to forget how much trouble and havoc its owner caused.
He relaxed into the bed and enjoyed it.
“I did carry you into town you know.” The water splashed as he exited. “Pure adrenaline of course. I mean it was either carry you or get eaten.”
“You could have run.”  He cracked open an eye. “Like I told you to.”
“No. That was never an option.” He swore he heard Jaskier smirk. “I hate running.”
“I’ll ask.” He threatened.
“No you won’t. You hate talking to strangers. Even though that’s literally half your job.”
Jaskier stepped out from behind the screen. Waist alone wrapped in a short towel.
He’d opened his mouth to respond. No words came out.
A drop fell from his hair. Running down the broad plain of his hirsute chest. Disappearing to parts unknown beneath the towel. Muscle flexed powerfully in his massive biceps as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.
He squatted with a slight grimace digging through their bags for clothing. The towel rolled up over the trunks of his thighs.
“You know the fact we didn’t get eaten probably implies that we escaped from another rabbit but rest assured in my tale I saved you from a very terrifying monstrosity that is certain to take the crowds by storm!” He pulled out his braies and stepped into them. Dropping the towel.
The steel of his legs flexed.
“Mmmm.” He managed around his very dry mouth.
Jaskier blew out the candle. Which only increased the intense shadows of his muscles in greyscale. “Well scoot over bed hog. I’m not buying a second room!”
He did not move. He could not move. He could only watch the deltoids of Jaskier’s arms move in the darkness.
“Ass.” Jaskier complained as he climbed over him. Splaying out next to him.
He believed Jaskier had carried him now. All two hundred pounds of Witcher from the forest into the town.
He wondered where the spindly youth had gone.
And then he wondered far less proper things about the strapping young man.
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whumpster-dumpster · 8 months ago
Perhaps an odd thing to get whumperflies from but... whumpee being carried either piggyback or bridal style after passing out always gets me.
👏 Bridal 👏 Style 👏
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whump-n-comfort · a year ago
Give meeeeee *spins wheel* people using themselves as shields!
Creepy/angry person looking at Character B just the wrong way or saying just the wrong thing, causing Character A to immediately shoot out their arm in front of B, glaring at the bad person like no tomorrow, daring them to hurt B. Perhaps even taking it a step further and literally pushing B behind them to get Maximum Shielding Potential
Or that but 100x more dramatic: the creepy/angry person striding up to B (who is standing relatively alone) with a purpose, and right before they can get their hands on B’s trembling figure trying to make itself smaller, A swoops in between them, chest puffed up and ready to throw down if the bad person takes one more step so help them-
A just sliiiding in between B and the thing of danger. Curling themselves around B like a shell on a turtle, white knuckled grips on B’s clothing, eyes closed crushingly tight with their only thoughts being thank god it won’t touch B
Shoving! Pushing! B staring down the danger with either fear or angry determination, preparing themselves for a world of pain, only to feel something aggressively dig into their side, an umph or oof coming from their lips, followed by them getting knocked away by a few feet. After the shock wears off, they suddenly realize they don’t know where A is, and as they sit/stand up, their eyes widen in horror as they look over the damage on A that was originally meant for them
B’s head really hurts. It’s pounding like it never has before... hang on, why is the world dark? Did they pass out? Wait, are their eyes closed? Maybe they should open them- ow, okay the world is bright. At least it’s getting blocked by A who is leaning over them. Hold on, why is A leaning over them? And can A stop yelling, please, it’s really not helping their aforementioned headache. But why is A exactly yelling? Is someone else here that’s- oh
Character A offering themselves up to take B’s place for whatever their captors have in store for them. Nuff said
Bonus points? If there’s any kind of major size difference between A and B
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l00k4tm4m45c415 · 6 months ago
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specialformany · 6 months ago
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Antigua Guatemala, Guatemala Ronald Cuyan
Color in Guatemala.
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