That specific whump trope where the person who's Been Through Shit™ is now safe, but Comfort™ and Safety™ is so outside of their comprehension that they assume they're expected to pay for it somehow. Money, acts of service, sex, as fucked up as you want it, really. It's one of my favouriteee tropes. It hits me like an ice pick through the heart every time. I think I just love the reassurance they get that Safety™ and Comfort™ is a basic thing they deserve, not a privilege to be earned. And that the people they're with are trustworthy and good and genuine.
When the nightshift nurse entered the hospital room of the recently admitted John Doe, they expected to see them still lying on the bed, semiconscious at best.
Instead, the Whumpee was curled up in a shaking ball at the corner of the room, back to the wall and brows furrowed behind crudely bent elbows. They appeared to have been crying.
"Hey there," the caretaker started gently, softly approaching Whumpee. Still, Whumpee flinched at each fall of Caretaker's shoes on the pristine white and blue tiles of the ICU.
As they came closer, they noticed that the multitude of bandages had been ripped off, the cast on their left wrist scratched at, and the poor thing had been bleeding where they had removed the IV drip. Caretaker sat down on the floor in front of the Whumpee.
"Hey, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help you out. My name is Caregiver. I can see you're bleeding there. I have clean bandages. Or we can talk?" The room was silent save for some sniffles and whimpers. The caregiver needed to get what information they could from Whumpee.
"Wh-where am I? Where is Whumper?"
"We are in the hospital, off the main highway. The sixth exit. You are safe here. What's your name?"
"Whumpee..."
"Okay, Whumpee. How old are you?"
"26, I think. Or I was. I don't know how long... it was dark."
"I see. Do you mind if we move this conversation to the bed over there? This cold floor must be pretty uncomfortable." Once again Whumpee fell silent for a second, and looked at the bed like they were calculating something. They shook their head no, and made no effort to move.
"We can sit here for a few more minutes, but I am going to ask that we go over there at some point tonight, okay? I don't want you to get an infection."
"I...I can't. I'm not..." Whumpee gulped. Saying this to Whumper was one thing—they were used to that by now. Saying it out loud to a stranger brought a shameful blush to their face as humiliation snaked its way through their intestines. They briefly remembered a time where they knew how silly this admission was. "I'm not worthy."
Hey! That's me! Thank you for the tag :) I promise more MLD will come along eventually... probably...
6 What are the traits of your ideal whumpee?
16 Do you have any whump media recommendations (whump blogs, books, movies, etc.)?
6. Answered here!
16. I have quite a few, so I’m sorry if this took a while to get posted:
Vera by @whump-tr0pes is a bit older, but a classic. If you like lady whump, intimate whumpers, and classic conditioning, you’ll probably enjoy this one
Cling to Me by @sowhumpshaped has been a recent favorite of mine. If you like lady whump and religious cult settings, but aren’t really in the mood for physical whump, then this one is for you!
The Rare Bookseller by @oliversrarebooks is a period piece with hypnosis (God, I love hypnosis) and vampires, so if that’s your thing, go read it!
Mister Lockwood’s Daughter by @torture-themed is another period piece, but it involves a doctor being forced to care for this man’s sick daughter, and it’s really fun
Secrecy by @doomeddestination was a fucking delight. Every chapter in the main series had suspense and was wonderfully written. Highly recommend this one if you want a quick-paced series about a spy being subjected to ten days of torture
That’s all I can think of for now, but I highly recommend these, so check them out if you’re interested!
Love it when characters have been through some torment or captivity or illness or Big Bad Event and come away from it just...gaunt. Thin and hollowed out, circles under their eyes that refuse to fade no matter how much they rest. So pale and skinny they look like a breeze could blow them over. Thin hair, shaky limbs. Eyes squinting outside, unused to bright light. You know, all that.
Simon's origins... he originally treated a little girl who slowly killed everything around her but I straight up forgot about that and wrote a completely different story. Can you believe I wasn't diagnosed with ADHD until I was like 18?
And Simon's original name! I... I think I like Simon Wright more.
Simon had an alternate version where he was a demon summoned by the evil lord, and he had to keep it a secret from the sick girl. Maybe someday I'll write an AU...?
I would like to request a drabble with a whumper who has mind-reading and/or telepathic communication abilities but not actual mind control.
content: mind reading/telepathic stuff, captivity, intimate whumper
Oh, what’s this?
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut even tighter and tried to empty their mind. Anything they thought of right now, Whumper could sense. And see. And use against them.
“Get the fuck out of my head,” they ground out. The invasive presence only got stronger.
Why? We’re just getting to know each other. Why don’t we play a little game?
“I don’t care for your stupid games!”
I say a word, you think of something associated with it. Let’s see… Love.
Horrifyingly, treacherously, a picture of Caretaker immediately floated to the forefront of their consciousness. Their bright smile, their soft hair, the way they had softly snored just two days ago next to them in bed.
Sweet, Whumper’s voice crooned.
“Get out!” Whumpee snapped. “Get the fuck out of my head!”
Next word! Fear.
Oh, it was humiliating, the way Whumper’s image immediately popped up, along with some memories of spiders and heights and little holes in the wall.
Aw, you’re afraid of me.
“I’m thinking about you because you’re in my head.”
“We both know that’s untrue,” Whumper mercifully said out loud, instead of beaming it straight into their brain. “You’re terrified of this little ability I have.”
Whumpee blinked their eyes open and looked up, defiantly holding their stare. “You can poke around in my head all you want, fucker. Whatever information you’re looking for isn’t with me.”
Whumper smiled and playfully booped their nose. “You have all the information I need, rest assured. All the information on how to break that pesky will of yours.”
Sorry, sorry, but manipulative hurt/comfort is fucking cocaine to me. The predatory aspect of it. The vulnerability—500% better if the hurt party knows they're being manipulated and is past the point of caring. The juxtaposition of sweet and sharp flavours. Barkbarkbark
It's not depression! Hopefully! I missed 4 doses of HRT in a row, so my mood's all out of wack. It should clear up faster than depression goes away, thankfully
I can't read whump anymore without getting viscerally upset. Not sure why. I'll try and start posting other writing on here, maybe?