#caring whumper

[jordanstrophe]

Abandoned whumpee: Final 1/2

CW: Betrayal, team whump, whumper turned caretaker, assassination attempt, hurt/comfort, annggsst

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Whumper watched over whumpee all throughout the night. Whumpee would wake up, not remember where they were, then struggle until whumper soothed them back asleep.

Whumper knew the sleepless nights would catch up with them eventually. They downed a tall cup of coffee, hoping to stay awake until morning...

------

Whumpee woke up that morning staring wide-eyed at whumper fast asleep on the bed with them. "Hey." Whumpee spoke, testfully poked whumper's arm. They groaned, but remained out cold.

Whumpee climbed over them and touched their bare foot to the floor, they immediately felt something cold as they flinched. There was spilt coffee at the foot of the bed along with an assortment of papers. They were badly stained, any information whumpee could have gleaned were long gone.

A silver key was dangling from whumper's pocket. If whumpee couldn't find information here, then there would be something elsewhere.

They clutched the key and snuck out of the infirmary. There were guards patrolling the halls as whumpee ducked around the corner. They let the guards pass, before slipping into the hall behind them. Whumpee tried every door they passed, all locked tight and the key fit none of them.

There was one last engraved door at the end of the hall. Whumpee heard the guards coming back around as they trembled and kept missing the keyhole. There was a silent *click* as the door swung open. Whumpee jumped in and shut the door behind them, taking a deep sigh of relief.

They stood in what seemed to be whumper's office; a large wooden desk, walls adorned with weapons, massive bookshelves. Everything whumpee expected whumper's office to look like, really.

They turned on a lamp and rooted through the desk. There were moundfuls of documents detailing whumpee's team. There were things here whumpee didn't even know... Things they weren't classified to know. They were told whumper was a murderer, someone who killed on sight; they took no prisoners and mercy was unheard of.

"Then why did you save me?" Whumpee whispered, looking at a framed picture of whumper proudly standing with their team. "Why capture me for intel if you had it already?"

In the depths of a drawer, whumpee found a roughly bound journal. It was branded with whumpee's team logo. They recognized it; each team carried one to document missions. Even whumpee had their own, though this one looked ancient...

They opened the first page before suddenly, the door opened and the lights flashed on. Whumpee gasped and dropped the book, frozen as they looked up like a deer in headlights. The person staring back had the very same expression. Horror, adrenaline, confusion.

-It was one of whumpee's teammates, dressed darkly and hooded as they took an astonished step towards whumpee.

"Whumpee? You're alive?" They whispered. "How? We thought they killed you." They gasped. Whumpee covered their mouth and clambered back to their feet. They were flooded with relief seeing a friendly face. They tried to figure out how to say a million words in a single breath.

"It's a long story-" Whumpee heaved, "I've been kept here by whumper, I got hurt in the attack and I-I was bleeding out and I was-" Whumpee trailed off with a flicker of doubt. They knew their team would think whumpee betrayed them if they were found alive in whumper's custody. The amount of intel that could be tortured out of them...

"I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't looking right at you." Their teammate filled in the silence, taking a step closer. "To think all this time, you survived..."

They didn't sound happy. Both of their eyes dropped to the journal between their feet, branded with their symbol.

"Ah, I see... So you found it." Their teammate stared.

"Found what? What have you not told me?" Whumpee demanded.

They crouched down to pick up the book, as they heard a *sswick* of a blade being unsheathed. Whumpee stopped in their tracks. They slowly looked up and stared into the tip of a blade and the eyes of someone who was no ally.

"I really am sorry." Their teammate whispered softly. "But you died that day, whumpee. It has to stay that way, for the good of all of us. You understand, don't you?" They took a step closer as whumpee snatched the book in their arms and backed away.

"Oh, come on, don't make this difficult. You've died once for us already. You can do it one more time, can't you?" They tilted their head.

"Can't I know why?" Whumpee's voice broke as their back hit the wall. "I- I didn't give you up, I didn't tell whumper anything. They weren't even what I thought they were... They weren't what you told me!" Whumpee suddenly shouted.

"I'm sure you didn't, you were always loyal. But it was never about that."

The blade came to their throat as whumpee shuttered and closed their eyes. The sound of a blade piercing flesh, a hot splatter of blood hit their chest, yet they felt nothing but cold adrenaline.

There was hollow silence. Whumpee opened their eyes, their teammate's face was blank as they sunk to the floor on their knees. Their silhouette was replaced by whumper, holding a dripping blade with a look of pure hatred.

"They dare set foot in my house!?" Whumper shouted. Their eyes suddenly darted to whumpee, who flinched. Their back was to the corner, face stained with blood, they trembled while hugging the journal to their chest.

"How did you get- ... No, one thing at a time." Whumper stopped themselves, putting the blade out of sight. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" They asked instead, nudging the corpse off their feet.

"I'm- ... I'm not hurt." Whumpee responded rapidly, trying not to show they were gasping for breath. "They were going to k-kill me." Whumpee touched their fingers to their chest where their teammates blood was splattered. "And you just... S-saved my life..."

"As much as I want to gloat and say I told you so- I'm just glad I got here when I did. Come with me, let's get you changed and we'll talk." Whumper held out their hand.

To be continued, 2/2

[Previous] - [Masterlist] - [Next]

@parasitebunny @starzabove @frog-hat-fa-ggot @morning-star-whump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @mommymarichatfurever​  @isita-torrrres @tobiaslut @anonintrovert @sausages-things

#I'm going to try and conclude the rest of the story in one more final chapter. #whumper #team whump #whump #whump writing #whump stories #whump assassination attempt #caretaking #comfort whump #hurt/comfort #betrayal whump #whump angst #whumper turned caretaker #soft whumper #caring whumper #defiant whumpee #whump escape attempt #whumpee #captured whumpee

[redd956]

Intimate Whumpers

Intimate whumpers ideas.

-Whumper making every gesture and movement incredibly slow, gentle, and soothing.

-Trailing their fingers down the side of Whumpee’s face, moving their hair away from their face

-Talking in a calming almost whisper

-Caring for Whumpee (maybe patching up their own work)

-Bridal Carry !!!!

-Tightly holding Whumpee close to them

-Putting their hands all over their Whumpee

-Humming and singing in quite a wonderous voice

-Giving Whumpee little gifts after whump sessions

-Complimenting Whumpee about their whump sessions

-Dancing with Whumpee

-Smiling at Whumpee’s misery

-Soft touches, just soft little touches

-An intimate Whumper who is gentle and soft until Whumpee makes one grand mistake, watching the perky smile quickly drop from Whumper’s face

#whump stuff #whumper #whumpee #where da faq is caretaker #caretaker #intimate whumper #caring whumper #whumper x whumpee #whumpee x whumper #whump prompt #whump ideas #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump things #oh god wait is that the clock reading 3:30 am

[emptycalories-splitlip]

"Careful with her! She's a rare specimen and needs to be handled gently."

"She's still unconscious. We can put her here. On the table, straps off. She won't need to be restrained, I imagine."

"Now go. I don't need you here."

"All alone, just you and me, hm? Let's get a look at those vitals."

"Heart rate looks good, nice and low with that sedation on board."

"Oxygen could be better, but not exactly worrisome."

"Blood pressure is perfect. You're perfect."

"Oh? Waking up are we? Easy, now, easy. I just need to press this little tool here and listen to that magnificent heart of yours."

"A little quiet at aortic. Beautifully loud at pulmonic. No, no no, ssh. Lie still."

"I know you're dizzy, but be still and it'll pass."

"Keep breathing normally. I'm almost done."

"Hm, was that a skip? Far too early for that. Behave yourself or I'll put you back under."

"Good. Good... Now we can really begin."

"Hm? My name? You can address me as sir or Doctor, is that understood?"

"Excellent. And I shall be addressing you as Subject or Item, do you understand? Nod if you do."

"Then let's start."

#whump #test subject #doctor x subject #caring whumper #prompts

[andithewhumper]

June of Doom Day 8:

“Breathe, damn you!” | Shock | Amputation | Infection

Masterpost

Content: Caring Whumper (sorta), Wilderness, Escape, General Injury

Whumper was having a bad day. First the FBI showed up at their door, then after finally getting them to leave Whumpee was nowhere to be found. They started with all the rooms Whumpee wasn’t allowed in: the office, the kitchen, the library. Then they went outside. They were dreading what might happen if Whumpee got too far away from the house and since they had no idea how long Whumpee had been gone it was their best guess how far they could have gotten.

Whumper found the first clue after an hour of searching. They had been about to give up when they noticed a print of a bare foot in the mud by the river behind their house. After that it was only a matter of time until they found where Whumpee had gone. They were completely surrounded by forest and mountains for miles which meant two good things for Whumper.

One, they knew the terrain very well from living here all their life and Whumpee had no idea where they were.

And Two, Whumpee had no way of getting help from anyone else.

Unfortunately this also meant that if Whumper didn’t find Whumpee before the first night there was a high possibility Whumpee might get hurt or die and Whumper certainly didn’t want that. At least, not at the hands of the forest.

Whumper forged on, though, hoping their tracking skills would come through for them. And come through they certainly did. After another hour and a half of searching they saw the best thing they could have ever hoped for: smoke. It was still about two miles away, but if Whumpee stopped for long enough to build a fire they were probably planning on staying put for a little while. The sun was starting to set, but with their new found lead they kept going.

As Whumper approached the campsite where their escaped captive resided they slowed their pace, making sure not to make noise or do anything else that might attract the attention of Whumpee. When they got close enough to see them, they noticed Whumpee had successfully caught a squirrel and was cooking it over their fire. Whumper felt a surge of pride at the discovery that Whumpee had more survival skills than anticipated.

After a few minutes of watching, Whumper decided to make an appearance.

“Well I must say, Whumpee, you have impressed me.” Whumper leaned against a tree with their arms crossed. They took great satisfaction in the look of pure panic and surprise that painted Whumpee’s face.

“H-how did you-?”

“Find you? Oh, Whumpee, you forget. This is my forest. Nothing and no one can hide from me in it.” Whumpee started to stand when they winced. Whumper noticed immediately.

“What did you do?” Their voice was stern, all the playfulness draining from their tone.

“N-nothing I-”

“Don’t. Lie to me. What. Did. You. Do?”

Whumpee stumbled backwards and tripped on the stump they were sitting on. They landed hard on their back. Whumper stalked up to them and crouched down.

“No, no please. Leave me alone.” Whumpee tried to scramble back some more, obviously in pain.

Whumper wasn’t having it. They reached down and grabbed Whumpee by the neck.

“Show me.” Their voice was cold and dangerous. Whumpee’s eyes went wide with terror. They slowly reached down and lifted up their shirt showing a long gash across their abdomen.

“I-I fell on a rock in the river.” Whumpee’s voice shook as they explained.

The look on Whumper’s face made Whumpee want to crawl into a little ball. They should have just kept going. If they hadn't stopped maybe Whumper wouldn’t have caught them.

Whumper let go of their neck, which made Whumpee blink in surprise.

“Get up,” Whumper ordered.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get up. I need your help to set up camp.”

“We’re not going back to the house?” Whumpee’s voice was full of hope. Maybe Whumper was going to let them go.

“Oh no we are absolutely going back to the house, but not right now. You are exhausted and I need to make sure that doesn’t get infected.” They pointed to Whumpee’s wound. “So get up and you can help me build a shelter. You need a full night's sleep for what I’m going to do to you tomorrow.”

#whump #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #caring whumper #june of doom #wilderness whump #injury #dread #hunting #tracking

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

whump word ask game : priiiiiize !! :D

Hi Anon! Thanks for requesting this! Here you go!

From this ask game

"Whumpee!~" the stranger called, "you can't run from me forever~."

Whumpee bolted through their house, desperate to get away from the intruder. As they ran, several thoughts swam in Whumpee's mind. How did they break in? How did they know Whumpee's name? What did they want? Whumpee was so lost in thought trying to escape their own house that they nearly tripped twice. Whumpee barely managed to make it to their front door, but when they went to turn the knob, they found that it was locked.

"There you are, Whumpee."

Whumpee cried out as an arm snaked around their waist and pulled them close.

"I've waited a long time for this," the stranger whispered softly in their ear.

Before Whumpee could try to escape, there was a pinch in their neck. Whumpee thrashed in the stranger's grip, letting out heartwrenching cries for help.

"Shhh," the stranger soothed, "sweet little Whumpee, you're going to work yourself up into a tizzy. Let the medicine do its work."

Whumpee's thrashing died down to pathetic squirms as the drug began to take effect.

"Hhng," Whumpee tried.

"Shhh, my little prize," the stranger said gently, "just go to sleep. That's it. Very good."

Whumpee's eyes fluttered shut. The last thing they felt was them being hoisted into a bridal carry before consciousness left them.

...

Whumper carried their Whumpee to their car. The backseats had been decorated with several plush blankets and pillows. Whumper gently laid Whumpee across them, wrapped a blanket around them, and propped their head up with a pillow. They buckled seat belts across Whumpee's legs and torso. They gave Whumpee a small kiss on their forehead before closing the door and getting into the driver's seat. Finally, they had their prize.

#whump #hurt/comfort #possessive whumper #obsessive whumper #caring whumper #writeblr #writing #creative writing #as requested #snippet #kidnapping #drugging #noncon drugging #home invasion #whump words ask game #whump ask game #ask game #prize #creepy whumper #intimate whumper

[whump-bunny]

A Failed Escape

By Whump-Bunny

(Description: A little AU oneshot from the novel I'm writing, featuring a delusional doctor, a feral boy with golden blood, and two guards who are just doing their jobs.)

-

It's approximately 1am when Jamie gets the notification on her tablet. 

"Tracker Implant KP1-a has left permitted boundary."

She blinks, thinking for a moment that she'd fallen asleep on her lab table again, but with a few taps, she gets redirected to a view of a blinking red dot, rapidly getting farther and farther from the confines of her house. Jamie sighs and dials the Facility Guard office. She’d expected this to happen eventually of course, but Asa has only been in her care for three days. She supposes she’d thought she'd be able to contain him for longer.

The Guard office picks up on the first ring, as it should. Charles Growder, Head Guard and one of Jamie's closest friends, answers the call.

"Hamlin, what's got you calling so late?" He mutters in that gravelly voice of his. This is a private line, one set up specifically for Jamie to use in relation to her newest ward. In reality, there aren't many reasons she would be calling this late, other than the obvious.

Jamie says as much, and Growder laughs.

"You couldn't keep him for three days, huh? Could it be that the great Doctor Hamlin has finally bitten off more than she could chew?" Jamie can practically see the condescending smirk on his face through the phone. Humiliating though it seems, she rolls her eyes and tries to find the humor in the situation.

"He's heading East, about a mile and a half away."

Growder whistles.

"I have some men on patrol in that area. They'll have him back before you know it."

Hamlin sighs, pouring herself a cup of coffee in what will most likely be a long night. "They'd better. Tell them to be careful. He's quite fragile at the moment and needlessly hurting him is the least efficient way to win him over."

"Will do."

With that, Growder hangs up, leaving Hamlin to her own devices until her son is found. She takes the time to check over the security footage of Asa’s room.

He never actually went to sleep, tossing and turning throughout the night until he finally felt confident enough to make his move. Hamlin watches the grainy feed as Asa reaches under his mattress and pulls out a small rectangular card.

With a gasp, Hamlin pats her back pocket in search of her ID badge, only to find it missing. Interesting. It seems her ward has a few skills leftover from his time as a street urchin. She makes a mental note to pickpocket-proof all of her belongings after this gets resolved.

Turning her attention back to the screen, she sees Asa use her badge to slip out of the house with ease. The outside cameras lose sight of him soon after he reaches the forest. It's odd, Hamlin notes, that he runs in the direction of the Facility rather than away from it.

That's when she realizes in horror that her ward might not be as intelligent as she'd hoped. Surely he doesn't think he can save his friends as well as escape on his own?

Concerns for Asa’s intelligence aside, Hamlin looks down at her tracker-pad, waiting for the little red dot to finally stop moving.

-

She gets the call at 1:11am that Asa has finally been apprehended and is on his way back. Relief floods her system like a drug and she finally lets herself sigh. Logically, she knows that they'd be able to catch him no matter how far he's able to get, thanks to the tracker in his neck. Even so, Jamie hates the feeling of her pride and joy away from the safety of her house.

She supposes Asa is sort of like a security blanket in that way.

With nothing much else to do but wait anxiously for the guards to arrive with her son, Jamie busies herself by double-checking every lock and tidying up the house. It isn't much, but it's enough to keep her from calling the Guard office and demanding to know what's taking so long.

At 1:30am, she's just about ready to storm outside and collect her son herself, when she hears a knock at the door.

She's over there in seconds, almost sliding into the door in her haste. She takes a moment to collect herself, hiding just how eager she truly is, before opening the door.

Standing on her patio are two guards, holding a squirming, furious Asa, between them. His breathing is labored and uneven, a clear sign that he'd been struggling the whole way home. The guards look just about ready to kill him for it.

He's crying, much to Jamie's distress. Her son shouldn't cry just because he's been brought back home. Tears in the lab are fine. Jamie understands that the tests she conducts are often uncomfortable. But outside of study, she'd like her muse to be happy.

"Welcome home, Asa!" She chirps, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. He bites at her, then shoots a death glare that would make the devil run and hide. Jamie smiles.

"That was quite a run! I'm impressed you made it so far, Asa. I wish you had told me you wanted to do an endurance test, I would have given you a much smoother track to run on."

At this, Asa jerks to life, just barely held back by the guards. “Rrgh- fuck you!”

Jamie clicks her tongue, “There you go with that potty mouth again. You’re just determined to break every rule tonight, aren’t you?

“Shut up! I'm not gonna just sit here and play house! I’d rather you send me back to the damn Facility!” Asa shouts. His words sting just a bit, but Jamie doesn't let them hurt her too badly. This behavior is to be expected. Really, it's one of the main reasons she adopted Asa in the first place. If she weren't willing to be patient with her patient, then what kind of doctor would she be?

So, rather than lash out, Jamie just smiles wider.

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, sport.” She chirps, this time ruffling Asa’s hair before he can stop her. “Now, I’d love to chat, but it's way past your bedtime. A proper sleep schedule is imperative to one’s physical and mental health, y'know.”

Expectedly, Asa bristles. 

“I’m not going to sleep! I won’t stay here for another second!” He yells, once again pulling at his arms until the guards yank him closer.

Hamlin lets out an exaggerated sigh. In truth she's not mad. In fact, she's not even disappointed. Her son has a bad habit of hiding his fear behind a mask of rage, this she knows for a fact. She's known it ever since she'd drugged him for the first time, when the curses turned into pleas and the threats turned into sobs. When the mask fell.

She knows that her son, more than anything else, is terrified. And that's why she can't bring herself to be anything but understanding. That being said, she also knows that this kind of behavior is unacceptable. And though Jamie would be happy dragging him back home a thousand times if necessary, the LRA would quickly grow impatient and shove him in solitary for the rest of his life.

For Asa’s own sake, he needs to be punished.

With an apologetic smile, Jamie crouches down to Asa’s eye level. “Listen sweetheart, you broke the number one rule. No leaving the house without my permission. I have no choice but to punish you."

At her threat, Asa pales, doubling his struggles. He looks very much like a wild animal, caught in a cage. Deep down, Jamie wishes he would take his fate with a bit more dignity.

"No- no, dammit! Don't drug me-" Asa barks, only for Jamie to cut him off with a raised brow.

"Why not? I explained to you when you first got here that your actions have consequences. If you didn't want to face them, then you shouldn't have broken the rules."

"Look, I'm sorry." Asa snaps, and finally Jamie can see the cracks in his mask, the anger chipping away into fear.

"Sorry for breaking the rules or sorry you got caught?"

Asa falters, "I-"

"I'm not mad at you, sweetie." Jamie cuts him off, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I just want you to be happy. And you won't be happy out there. I keep trying to help you understand that."

Her son’s face darkens, his glare deepens. He stares at Jamie with all the hatred a boy his size could possibly muster.

"I hate you! You- you're a monster!" He spits, angry tears rolling down his face. Jamie feels her heart break.

To hear her muse, her son, say that he hates her… it isn't easy to hear. But it only stands to make Jamie more determined. One day, Asa will look at her and see a mother. But she can’t make that happen in a single night. Asa needs time to adjust, and of course, Jamie is happy to provide it.

She sighs, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Asa. But it's very late. We can talk about this tomorrow."

Standing up, Jamie turns to the guards. She doesn't recognize their faces. They must be stationed on perimeter duty most of the time. Clearly, they don't have a whole lot of experience with handling assets, if their struggles with Asa are evidence enough. Still, Jamie trusts that they should be competent enough to control her wayward son for at least a few more minutes.

"Bring him to his room, please. I'll be right there." She orders, stepping aside to allow them into her house.

As they begin to move, Asa shouts and digs his heels into the hardwood floor. The guards seem entirely unphased. Jamie watches them drag her screaming son until they disappear into the hallway.

"Third door on the left." She calls after them.

When she hears the door close, Jamie allows herself a moment to indulge in self doubt. Is she truly cut out for this? Motherhood, that is. Jamie has no doubts that she can eventually break Asa’s will to escape, or at least contain him until she does. (Today, of course, not included.)

If she wanted to, she could have Asa kept in solitary confinement. She could strap him down to the lab table permanently, hooked up to a catheter and feeding tube and enough drugs to put out a small army for three days. She could study him day in and day out, until she either runs out of questions or dies trying. She could treat him like any other asset, and Mr. M would be ecstatic.

But Jamie doesn't want another asset.

She wants a son.

And if this is what it takes to get one? If she has to drag Asa back to the lab every day, and whisper reassuring words while she cuts into his spine? If she has to be the good cop and the bad cop and the something in between cop?

Then so be it. 

With a newfound determination, Jamie grabs her sedative kit from the lab and makes her way to Asa’s room.

She doesn't hear any screams on the other side of the door. For most, that would be relieving, but Jamie knows better than to assume that Asa calmed down by himself. Worry settles in her stomach like a rock as she opens the door. And her heart stops when she sees what awaits her on the other side.

Dripping from Asa’s nose and onto his shirt is shining, golden blood. Jamie narrows her eyes.

"What happened to my son's face?"

The guards exchange a glance and probably think they're being subtle. Neither meet Jamie's eyes, nor do they say anything.

"I'm sorry, did I not ask you two a question?" Jamie spits, her voice dripping with foreboding. Asa visibly stiffens, eyes darting back and forth between the guards and Jamie. He looks like a rabbit caught between a pair of wolves and a hunter, unsure of which he should fear more.

The guards aren't much better off, opening and closing their mouths like goldfish as they try to find the words to answer Jamie's demand.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of mindless gawking, the taller guard speaks.

"He fell, Doctor." He says, still refusing to meet Jamie's eye.

"Oh he fell, did he?" Jamie repeats, pretending to believe that for even a moment. She turns to Asa, who isn't able to hide his flinch from her trained eyes. Suddenly, her demeanor softens, and she leans down to look him in the face. His glowing skin stands out against the darkness of the room, allowing Jamie to scrutinize every feature.

His nose has already healed, it seems. Good. But the remnants of pain still linger on her son's face. His big brown eyes swim with flashes of fear, shame, but most of all, rage. Jamie shakes her head.

"Is that true, sweetie? Did you fall?"

Asa doesn't reply, mouth pressed into a firm line, but he doesn't need to. As he looks away, Jamie follows his gaze, and he inadvertently leads her to the truth. Asa glances at the short guard's fist, and Jamie finally notices the little flecks of golden blood coating his knuckles.

Without hesitation, Jamie straightens, reels back, and slaps the guard with all of her strength. He yelps like a chihuahua, and Jamie thinks that alone should be grounds enough to fire the bastard. Asa audibly gasps, but for once, Jamie's attention isn't centered on him. She glares daggers into the guard, waiting for him to recover before balling his shirt collar in her fist.

“Hit my son again and see what happens, swine.” She spits, much to the pig's dismay.

“But- but Hamlin he-” Jamie shoves him to the ground before he can finish. For a moment, she debates on whether or not to kill this waste of biomatter right there. But then, as always, her thoughts turn to Asa. She doubts he'd appreciate seeing a brutal murder after everything else tonight.

Still, she won't let this pig get away with this.

“That’s Doctor Hamlin. And it doesn’t matter what he did. Your job is to hold him still. Not to decide how he should be punished.” She barks, allowing the man to stand back up. “Rest assured, I'll be speaking to Growder about this. You'll be lucky if you work in Facility one by this time tomorrow. And you-"

Jamie turns to the tall guard, the one who lied to her to begin with.

"You'll be demoted as well. Say goodbye to your company car. And if I ever see either of you near my son again after tonight, I will have your heads. Do I make myself clear?”

One at a time, the guards mumble out a, “Y-yes… Dr. Hamlin."

Hamlin nods, as satisfied as she could be for now. Then with a sigh, she turns her attention back to her reason for living.

Asa stares up at her with eyes wider than saucers. It's an expression she's quite used to, so it doesn't faze her much. Still, she feels compelled to apologize. Both for the actions of the guard and for her own outburst.

"Alright then. Sorry about that, Asa." She chirps, raising up the sedative kit she'd brought from the lab. Asa pales. "This is just a little bit of anesthetic to help you sleep for the rest of the night. And for your punishment, tomorrow I'll have you sedated for the day. Nothing too strong. Just enough to keep you calm. Okay?"

At once, Asa begins struggling all over again, but it seems like the failures that call themselves guards have finally figured out how to do their jobs. They flank Asa on either side, locking his arms in their own and practically squishing him to death between their muscular frames. Asa writhes and squirms, but finds himself almost completely immobilized. That’s of course when the screaming starts.

All the while, Jamie gingerly prepares her syringe, sucking up enough high-concentration anesthetic to put out 100 fully grown men. Or one boy with an abnormally fast metabolism. It’s become muscle memory at this point, drugging her son, but that isn’t to say Jamie lets herself get sloppy. She measures each drop with razor sharp precision. She’s studied the effects of every dosage in every size. She knows how long this will keep Asa asleep, down to the minute. And it seems that after so much time spent in the lab, Asa does too. 

He locks eyes with the needle as if it’s a loaded gun. "N-no- stay the hell away from me! I don’t want your stupid drugs-” He yells, straining against the guards to stand as far away as possible. Jamie closes the distance with a single step, careful to stay just far enough in case Asa decides to bite.

"I know." She sighs, "But you broke the rules, kiddo. You gotta face the consequences of your actions."

Asa grits his teeth, "Do it and I swear to god- I'll-"

"You'll what?" Hamlin interrupts, her ever-present patience finally wearing thin. She loves Asa more than all the stars in the sky… but if she could change even one thing about Asa, it would be for him to use his head a bit more often and have the grace to accept when he's clearly lost. There's quite a fine line between stubbornness and stupidity. It's a line that Asa dances on daily, and tonight he's crossed it by a mile.

Without giving him more chances to run his mouth, Jamie swiftly grabs his hair and pulls his head to the side with practiced expertise. He struggles like a wild boar, but Jamie doesn't waver.

"Just hold still, Asa. You've fought enough for one night. It's time to let go." She coaxes, readying her needle above the delicate flesh of his neck. 

"No! Don't-! Stop it!" Asa yells, and it sounds far less like a demand and far more like a plea. Tears once again run down his cheeks, destroying any remaining traces of the fearless mask he tries so hard to wear at all times. Once again, Jamie's reduced him to what he really is underneath all the bravado and spite.

A child.

"Hamlin- please!" 

Over the years of her career, Jamie’s given countless shots to countless unwilling children. But Asa takes the gold medal for most difficult patient. Still, nothing he does stops the inevitable pierce of the needle into his flesh, the instant drop of his limbs, the reluctant closing of eyes filled with hate.

Jamie watches fondly as her son falls asleep. She has the guards put him in his bed, then orders them to leave her house under threat of dissection. They practically run out the door, leaving Jamie alone with the light of her life.

He's so cute when he's sleeping. The harsh lines of his ever-present frown dissipate, leaving him looking soft and smooth like a porcelain doll. He looks younger like this, more innocent as well. It's when he's sleeping that Jamie always remembers what she's doing all of this for.

Being a parent isn’t easy. But the things that are worth doing never are. Becoming a doctor took ten years. Becoming the Head Scientist of Facility 11 took another fifteen. And raising Asa might take an eternity. But just as Jamie now wears a white coat, just as she has an office in the most prestigious Facility there is, she knows that one day Asa will look at her and say ‘Mom, I love you.’

Until then, Jamie takes solace in knowing that at least tomorrow will be quiet. 

-

If you'd like to read more of my writing, or see more of my story, please let me know! I'll add you to the tag list! Also feel free to ask me any questions! I am always happy to talk to new people! You literally cannot annoy me! Hope y'all enjoyed!

#whump #lab whump #writing #creepy whumper #caring whumper #defiant whumpee #young whumpee #asa #dr. hamlin #parental whump #parent whumper

[lonely-harts]

May 26th- “I don’t know what you mean”

Prompts used: Dialogue, Drugged

Content Warnings: Gaslighting, drugged, alcohol

“Do I look alright?” asked Whumpee, stumbling over to the couch and steading themself on the arm.

Whumper nodded, his eyes watching Whumpee’s hands and arms to keep tension. “You look fine to me.”

“I feel weird,” Whumpee muttered to themself.

“Here, have another drink,” said Whumper, holding out the third bottle of the night to Whumpee. “I’ll grab you something to eat, your sugar is probably low, that’s all.”

Whumpee took the bottle and flumped down onto the sofa, watching the ceiling dance as they sipped from it. Maybe they were just drunk, but they weren’t usually a lightweight.

As the ceiling continued to dance like the fireflies outside, Whumpee tried to think. Think anything. But their mind felt full of treacle, hard and slow effort to work their way through.

Whumper returned, chocolate bar in hand and broke off a square before sitting on the edge of the sofa next to Whumpee’s legs.

“There’s really not something right with me,” Whumpee mumbled as they took the square of chocolate from Whumper.

Whumper smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

@themerrywhumpofmay​ @painsandconfusion​

If anyone would like me to write more about any of the characters who are in any of the drabbles for this challenge, send me an ask and the day and I’ll be happy to!

#| the blood | #the merry whump of may #i don't know what you mean #intimate whumper #caring whumper #whump #whump fic #whump story

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumper came down the stairs and glanced at Whumpee.

"Come on, you smell horrible", Whumper stood at the bottom step.

"Yes Master", Whumpee worked to stand up. Their small naked frame shook with the exertion of moving. They fell forward, but caught themself.

Whumper watched them semi concerned, "you okay?"

"Um yes Master, just a little weaker than normal", Whumpee limped toward them, "think I'm a little cold, that's all."

"Mmm-hmm, so you get two options for bathing today. Option one, a warm bath with some medical attention, but you do not get a meal tonight. Option two, you get cleaned by the hose outside, but I'll give you a nice meal for dinner."

"Uhm, may I have a warm bath", Whumpee followed Whumper up the stairs.

"Yes you may, that was a fast decision", Whumper started to walk to the bathroom.

"Yes Mas-master it's cold downstairs, so I think it's cold outside", Whumpee watched as Whumper prepared the tub, they glanced at the toilet.

"You're right it is cold outside", Whumper started the bath.

"Master you said I was right", Whumpee gleamed.

"Yes, I guess I did. You're right occasionally", Whumper grinned.

"Master may I use the toilet instead of the bucket", Whumpee looked at the toilet again.

"Go ahead", Whumper watched them.

"Alright, try not to make too much of a mess, and enjoy.... it... hold on", Whumper noticed something.

Whumpee froze as they had just gotten into the water.

"I'm sorry Master did I do something that made you unhappy", Whumpee worried, 'was this all a joke', Whumpee thought to themself.

Whumpee's skin quivered as Whumper felt around their back.

"No, I think you have an infection on your back", Whumper frowned, "I'll take care of it when I do your medicine."

"Yes Master", Whumpee lowered into the water and exhaled a sigh of relief.

Later Whumpee waited for Whumper in the living room.

Whumper had already finished medical treatment and decided to trim Whumpee's nails.

Whumper came out carrying a steaming bowl of something that caused Whumpee to drool.

Whumper set it on the coffee table in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee didn't dare look at it, but they savored the smell.

'I don't get dinner tonight', Whumpee reminded themself, 'I chose this.'

Whumper sat on the couch and pulled out their phone.

"You can eat that if you like", Whumper didn't pay any mind to Whumpee.

"Master you said I didn't get any dinner", Whumpee sat up on their knees to get closer.

"I know, but that infection on your back is pretty bad. I think your body is weak because of it. It would be better to give it sustenance to help", Whumper watched Whumpee sniff at the bowl.

"You going to eat it?", Whumper frowned.

"I'm sorry Master it smells so good", Whumpee looked at Whumper, "I appreciate this."

"You're welcome, now eat it."

Whumpee almost fell over with how good the food tasted. 'I haven't had warm food in so long and I had a warm bath today even', Whumpee smiled to themself. It made them feel almost human again.... they didn't dare tell Whumper that though.

"I'll get you some better medicine tomorrow when I go out", Whumper eyed the infection again as Whumpee ate, "hopefully we'll get that under control."

Whumpee looked up happily.

When done, Whumpee followed Whumper down to the basement again.

"Why are you acting sad?", Whumper frowned, "I did more for you than I originally intended."

"Yes Master, I apologize. I enjoyed being upstairs with you", Whumpee looked at Whumper sadly, "I'm lonely down here."

"I have one more surprise down here for you", Whumper pointed, "but this is where you stay. Right?"

"Yes Master", Whumpee looked at where Whumper pointed and saw a blanket waiting for them.

They limped quickly to the blanket, "is this for me?"

"Yes for right now at least", Whumper turned to go back up, "don't make me regret my kindness to you."

"Master, thankyou so much", Whumpee looked up at them with a smile.

"Yep", Whumper called from the top of the stairs.

At the sound of the lock, Whumpee pulled the blanket over themself and cuddled into it. They limped to a corner of the room and laid down.

The next day, Whumpee overheard Whumper leaving.

They hadn't seen Whumper yet, so Whumper hadn't taken the blanket away yet.

Whumpee was going to soak in all of the warmth they could.

Whumper now stood in the medicine aisle, looking at all of the options available.

"Sorry, I'm coming beside you", someone stepped closer and grabbed something, "got an infection?"

"My friend does, they're not able to make it into see a doctor right now. I thought I'd help them out. I had no idea there were so many medications though", Whumper frowned.

"Coming from a doctor I suggest they get into see one, but these should help hold them over until they can", the person grabbed something off the shelf, "I always recommend these to my patients."

"You're a doctor huh?", Whumper reached for the products, "thankyou so much, I appreciate this."

"Yes the names Caretaker", they reached a hand out.

"Whumper", they extended their hand for a handshake.

"If your friend needs a doctor, here is my card", Caretaker offered a business card.

"Thankyou", Whumper felt the wheels spinning in their head.

During the next week Whumper watched Caretaker, he knew their routines perfectly.

The medicine that was recommended had cleared up Whumpee's infection perfectly.

"Master, I feel so much better", Whumpee smiled as Whumper applied more medicine to the infected area.

"It definitely looks better", Whumper studied Whumpee's backside, "I'm glad."

"So I'm going out for a drive tonight again", Whumper stood and started to go to the stairs, "what does that mean for you?"

"I am to be good Master", Whumpee smiled up at Whumper, while trying not to draw attention to the blanket that was still down there.

"Good Whumpee", Whumper turned to go, but eyed the blanket, making Whumpee's heart sink.

"Are you enjoying having a blanket?", Whumper turned to them.

"Y-yes Master", Whumpee nodded.

"Good", Whumper sighed as they walked to the stairs, "I'll see you later."

Whumpee cuddled into the blanket after Whumper had left. They were careful not to let it touch the medicine, Whumper would punish them harshly if they messed it up.

Whumper watched Caretaker leave the office and get into their car.

Whumper followed Caretaker to a store they often frequented.

On the way out Caretaker found his path blocked by a car, then noticed his car was on fire.

Before he knew it, he was pushed into the car and they were speeding off from the scene.

"What is the meaning of thi....?", Caretaker was met with a gun, "who are you?"

Whumper had hidden most of their face with a mask.

"Place your phone in your bag and put everything in the backseat", Whumper commanded.

Caretaker sighed as they followed orders.

"Are my things back here? You broke into my car?", Caretaker frowned.

"How do you think your car caught fire", Whumper handed over a set of handcuffs, "put these on, hands behind your back."

Caretaker frowned as a firetruck sped by, "you are twisted."

Whumper chuckled, "you have no idea."

Whumpee heard Whumper crash through the door, and force open the bars that locked the basement.

"Oh no, they're mad", they pulled blanket closer trying to get every ounce of warmth before it was taken away.

Whumper came down the stairs, but someone was with them.

"Whumpee I've solved your loneliness issues, and your medical issues", Whumper announced as they guided the person to a kneeling position, "I can't take you to the doctor, so I brought one to you."

Whumper yanked off a blindfold they had forced onto Caretaker.

Caretaker looked around and locked eyes with Whumpee.

"Where am I?", Caretaker then glanced up at Whumper, "you?"

"Yes, you should really be careful with your personal information", Whumper chuckled, "you never know what someone is capable of."

Whumper unlocked the handcuffs, "if you move before I am at the top of the stairs you'll regret it. Am I clear?"

"Yes", Caretaker felt his throat tighten, this couldn't be happening right.

The bars slammed shut, clearing Caretaker to move.

They stood and quickly went up the stairs.

"It's locked", they came back down and eyed Whumpee.

"How long have you been here? Are you a captive too?", Caretaker frowned.

"I've been here a long time.... yes", Whumpee nodded, "if I may give you some advice."

Caretaker frowned, but nodded.

"Listen and do what they ask, or you'll look like me", Whumpee wasn't brave enough to pull off the blanket yet.

Caretaker sat down in the corner across the room, "I-I'm sorry, I need a little bit to think about what just happened."

Whumpee nodded, "okay", they whispered.

After a while, Whumpee noticed that Caretaker was shivering. They still had clothes on, but it was still pretty cold down their.

Whumpee looked down at their coveted blanket.

'I'm more use to this down here, than they are', Whumpee weakly stood and cautiously carried the blanket over.

Caretaker turned quickly when they felt the blanket cover them.

They looked up and watched Whumpee limp back to their spot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were naked under their. Please take this back, you'll catch a cold", Caretaker started to get up.

"No please, it's okay", Whumpee whispered, "I'm more used to it down here than you are. We don't always get a blanket down here."

Caretaker frowned, "what have they done to you?"

"I don't really want to talk about what I've been through", Whumpee looked down at their beaten body.

"Okay, I'm sorry", Caretaker sighed.

"Hey Whumpee", Whumper called from upstairs.

Whumpee got up as quickly as they could and went to the stairs.

"Yes master?", Whumpee limped up a few steps.

"Catch these", Whumper tossed down two bottles of water and another blanket, "I'm going to bed, don't be up too late."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou so much Master."

Whumpee handed Caretaker a water bottle.

"This blanket is probably cleaner than that one if you want to switch", Whumpee showed the blanket off.

"It looks thicker though, you use it", Caretaker gave a weak smile, "if you like, I'll give you a full checkup tomorrow, I can't imagine the last time you've seen a doctor."

"It's been a while", Whumpee sat down again, "I take it you were the doctor Whumper said recommended the medication I've been getting."

"Yes that was me", Caretaker nodded.

"Thankyou so much, I didn't feel good. I feel better now", Whumpee smiled, "Master says my back is better as well."

"That's good, I'm glad it helped", Caretaker watched Whumpee curl up on the floor.

"I hope it's okay, I'm quite tired", Whumpee yawned.

"I'll probably turn in soon to", Caretaker sighed. "I guess I don't have much of a choice right now."

Whumpee nodded, before resting their head on the floor, "goodnight, um doctor."

"Goodnight", Caretaker felt their heart ache.

'How long have you been here, and no one knew?', Caretaker thought to themself, 'the world went on, and you've been in the basement of a madman.'

Whumpee stretched out as they made happy sighs.

"I'll take care of you, and I'll get us out of this... somehow", Caretaker whispered, "I promise."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @thebejeweledwatercat

#whump community #whumplr #whumblr #whump stuff #whump writing #whump writer #whump ideas #whump scenario #whumper #intimate whumper #whumpee #captives #captive whumpee #captive caretaker #caretaking #caretaker #care whumper #whump #oc #original story #infection #sick whumpee

[aceofwhump]

The Silencing starring Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

For @whumpers-monthly Shot with an arrow

#the silencing #nikolaj coster waldau #whumpedit #whump #whumpers-monthly #issue no 24 #shot with an arrow #gore tw #shot #pain #on the ground #self care #field medicine #bullet removal #look it counts as that cause he has to remove the arrowhead okay #blood #stitches #shoulder injury #alcohol tw #my gifs #mod post

[echo-goes-mmm]

So we all the love the whumpee-thinks-caretaker-is-their-new-master trope but what if it's true

Caretaker who did buy whumpee, and who does wholeheartedly believes and acts like whumpee belongs to them

But damn it they take great care of their possessions. After all, cats and dogs get spoiled with treats and comfy beds and vet visits when they're sick and cuddles and a form of love

Why should a slave be any different? Especially because caretaker bought whumpee for companionship

Plus whumpee can tidy up, cook for themselves, hold a conversation, and even play games like cards or board games, and can go everywhere caretaker can

That's infinitely better than a cat or dog.

It's just such a shame their old owner was so terrible. Whumpee is so timid now, and nearly skin and bone. But that's nothing a good owner can't fix, right? The poor thing needs some proper structure and attention that's all. It's a good thing whumpee is human. It would be a lot harder to rehabilitate a rescue who can't comprehend speech.

And whumpee doesn't want to leave. Fetching files from a desk and playing checkers and occasionally cleaning the kitchen while master chatters about work is far better than being locked in a cold basement and getting beaten every day

Their new master doesn't lay a hand on them, their version of punishment is no music while doing chores, or no dessert

After all, you wouldn't hit your dog. Caretaker's new pet deserves at least that

#carewhumper #i suppose but caretaker isnt super whumpy here #whump #this is super indulgent #pet whump #i guess but not really #slavery whump #yeah that fits better #its the good master trope #yeah yeah we all know slavery is bad #this is fiction get off your high horse #but like wouldn't this be nice for whumpee?? #its the benefits of being owned (protection. doesn't have to worry about bills/homelessness. possessiveness as care against other whumpers) #plus being told whats right and wrong you dont have to think much as long as caretaker is Clear #without much of the drawbacks of being a whumpee (torture. starvation. lack of social interaction) #i imagine this world is like your typical fantasy/medieval world #caretaker is probably wealthy or a lord with an estate and servants #caretaker got lonely maybe. wanted someone in their life more personally attached than hired help #like personal assistant meets pet whump meets default friend #i do think whumpee and caretaker would become close friends #Meet caretaker: a minor lord who recently inherited the title! #Meet whumpee: caretaker's new slave whos just happy to be fed and have his own bed #journey with them as they navigate the condescension and annoyances of the royal courts! #caretaker needs a friend they can trust while whumpee discovers that they deserve affectionate actually #hurt/comfort shenanigans ensue #head chef edna just wants everyone fed #whumpee have a cookie challenge #get that whumpee a meal #my writing

[jordanstrophe]

A lonely whumper kidnaps whumpee just to have someone to keep around. They've never hurt them, keeping them tied and tethered in the "remodeled" basement.

One morning when they greet their captive, they're met with a look of pure hatred. It stops them in their tracks, their eyes watering and they bite their lip to keep it from quivering.

"It's painful that you hate me." They woefully whisper.

#whump #whumpee #whumper #whump prompts #whump scenario #creepy whumper #whump angst #possessive whumper #caring whumper #soft whumper #kidnap whump #kidnap prompt #gentle whumper #defiant whumpee

[whumperer-86]

Too many whump scenes from currently airing dramas

War of Faith cdrama

Midnight Studio Kdrama ep06

#whump #whumper #asian whump #emotional whump #suffering #drama #whumpee #asian whumper #bromance #chinese drama #Midnight studio #kdrama #korean drama #fainted #care taker #concerned for him #carried on the back #feverish #whump tropes #whump community #whumplr #whump prompt #whumpblr

[whumpypepsigal]

Dunkirk (2017): “I can’t see.”

#whumpedit #whumpers-monthly #issue no 25 #blinded #barry keoghan #george mills #dunkirk #movie #whump #attacked #head injury #blind #blood #bleeding #field medicine #first aid #bandages #cared for #care #my gifs

[demondamage]

"If you won't let me brush your hair, I will shave it again."

Drawn on stream until fucking too late ast night--- but the chaos was awesome! Thanks to everyone who made it a good time and hung out!

although looking at it rn I lowkey hate it--- ah well. Is part of life.

UGHHHhhh I need to go work gmorning yalll

Art tag: @whump-tr0pes @whump-queen @whumpsday @whumpinthepot @kixngiggles @onlywhumpcomments @project-xiii @quietly-by-myself @ka1imba @suspicious-whumping-egg @cyborg0109 @whatwhumpcomments @whumpcomica @i-eat-worlds @regrets-realization-acceptance @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @burntcoffeewhump @lonesome--hunter @scribbelle @oddsconvert @painsandconfusion @whumpasaurus101 @sadcatjae @kiratheperson @studyofwhump @sunshiline-writes

#whump #demondamageart #whump art #demon whumpee #demon whump #aziphem #angel whumper #kotarou #noncon care #Does noncon personal care make anyone else go wild? #As a trash gremline I need a hot man to force me to get taken care of #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHH #necrotrophic soul

[whumpitisthen]

Perfect Present

Small little cw: this one has a pretty long noncon undressing scene! I never write nsfw, but this one can definitely be interpreted as suggestive, so just a heads up!

“I never expected to be blessed with such a sweet little present.”

He is numb. The air burns as he is carried past the thick, decorated wooden door. His shivering does not ebb from the sudden warmth, only worsens at the stranger’s words.

It's hard to concentrate on anything but the daunting prominence of approaching death squeezing his heart. Though he lacks the energy to act upon his fear in any meaningful way, he understands that he is in more than a little danger. The snowstorm that had caught him out in the middle of the woods could not have come at a more inopportune time; in a place where the nearest sign of civilisation was kilometres away. The distance would have been no issue if the skies remained clear, but the freezing winds cut through his coat so efficiently that he can only pray his fingers will thaw out in one piece.

“God knows how much longer you would have survived if I hadn't found you when I did.” — They found him collapsed in the snow, too exhausted to keep stumbling on towards what he hoped was the edge of the forest. His skin blue, his boots drenched, his hair frozen stiff from his own sweat; it's a miracle he hadn't fallen unconscious. — “But there is no need to worry now. I will take good care of you.”

It smells like pine and sugar. The walls are alight in colour, reflecting in the pond of his own glassy eyes. Classical music floats from the left as they pass by. He floats along in the arms of the stranger bringing him deeper into his home. In front of the fireplace, he is laid under a marvelous silver pine standing proud and fearless of the flames licking at its leaves from afar. The rug under him is soft, heavenly so.

“There you are. That feels nice, doesn't it? Those frozen little fingers will melt in no time.” — The stranger covers him in thick blankets, providing pillows to lean on as he coos these reassurances to him. — “I will go look for replacement clothes. We can't have you stay in that drenched, muddy coat, now can we?”

He does not wonder why the stranger seems to linger beside him before turning to leave. He does not mind the hand that cards through his hair affectionately, only happy for the heat that passes onto his scalp for a moment. He doesn't see the fond expression on his face, the way those eyes rake over his body slowly, as if taking in a wonderful, serene landscape. He sees no wrong just yet, focused only on his one goal of keeping his own heart beating.

The stranger returns with clean clothing not three minutes later, setting it aside onto the couch for now. With his blanket covered back to him, he shivers incessantly, gasping. Staring into the flames becomes painful, the heat forcing his eyelids closed against his will.

Removing the soaked through boots and pants should be priority in this situation, but the stranger finds himself enamoured by the weakness and vulnerability he shows as he lies there helplessly, curling tighter and tighter into himself. It is awfully difficult to tear his eyes away from those quivering blue lips. One thought comes and passes, offering to keep his clothes on for a while longer, just to prolong his beautiful suffering. Then another, more devilish one supplies him with a darker idea upon witnessing his fragile neck peeking out from under all that fabric — perhaps undressing him would be more satisfying in the end. The urge to peel back every layer coating his divine skin slowly, meticulously revealing flesh to be explored in earnest nests inside him and refuses to leave. Truly, unwrapping a present is half the fun after all.

Perhaps there will be no need for replacement clothes either way.

Wordlessly, he kneels by the bundle of trembling cloth, pulling him closer lightly. With a hand on his shoulder, he turns him onto his back, taking hold of those icy hands grasping the cover like it is trying to escape them. His present looks up at him with wide, terrified eyes; soon that fear will be converted to a more special, deeper kind of fear. He will not be nearly as afraid of the cold as he will be of the stranger.

Those eyes become a little wider when pulls away the blanket, even wider when he straddles him and starts unbuttoning his coat with an eager expression. It takes a couple buttons for his present to understand that this is not right, wriggling and whimpering quietly, confused. He becomes nervous when the buttons run out and his coat is pulled away to reveal nothing but a flimsy dress shirt underneath. It isn't even fully buttoned up, leaving a prominent collarbone exposed under the dishevelled, wrinkled material.

The stranger tuts at him disapprovingly. — “So careless...”

The pause is a little too long for comfort, passed by as the man takes in his form before he returns to unwrapping his gift, a warm knuckle caressing the naked skin as his hands move to the next button. Even through the exhaustion, confusion, terror and pain, the cold mess of limbs understands how dangerous it is to be undressed in such a way in a stranger's home.

“S-S-Stop, p-, stop, no…” — Those blue fingertips come into view as they try to push numbly at the stranger's hands, squirming uncomfortably. He cannot feel if their hands meet at all, but he can hear the slaps as he jerks his hands into the other’s arms and chest frantically, kicking out and twisting.

The man looks at him a while, not bothered in the least. He just smiles at his desperate, yet pathetic efforts at fighting him, fighting back just as weakly by repositioning his head and wrists faster than he could comprehend with his dizzy mind, but letting up right after to watch those limbs fly around like useless flesh worms. Once the struggle becomes more annoying than entertaining however, he simply takes those wild arms and pins them under his knees, securing them in place so he can continue unboxing in peace.

At the miserable grunt that he makes once he realises how trapped he really is, the stranger only hushes him, — “be good. I am only trying to help you, can't you see? You are soaked.”

He had to use so much energy just to force his useless, heavy limbs to do something, but it only amused the man. He feels the shirt open button by button, powerless to do absolutely anything about it. The violent shivering only worsens once his naked skin touches the air, goosebumps rising at the feeling. It's warm, but cold at the same time, burning all the same.

The stranger’s fingers running down his torso bring tears of frustration and humiliation to his eyes, his face contorting into the very definition of misery. His struggles renew when that hand reaches under the shirt, circling around to feel his now swiftly beating heart, while the other cups the side of his stomach bouncing up and down with each of his panicked gasps for air. He cannot bear it any longer once the hand lifts from his chest up all the way under his chin, taking hold of his neck.

“Don’t, d-d-d-don’t, pl-ease, please, I-I-I-I, I c-can’t, I can't —”

“You don't need to. I will take care of you.”

That only makes him sob in earnest. A broken no is all that makes it out before he devolves into fearful whimpers and cries, thoroughly overwhelmed from going through multiple life-threatening crises at the same time. The grip tightens ever so slowly, experiencing the way his neck twitches and pulses, the frigid, pale blue skin stretching over an artery pumping dangerously cool blood hysterically under cruel fingertips caressing it. It's hard to tell through the tears covering his vision in confusing sparkles, but he can definitely feel the intense attention of the man glaring down at him in morbid fascination.

His hand never grows tight enough to strangle him, but it gets very close. Laboured, wheezing breaths already coming out forced now turn even smaller, just a little harsher, thinner, just enough to start hurting from the warm pressure. Once it reaches that point however, it returns to simply lying on top of his neck, an almost pleasant coat over him to slowly warm him through.

The stranger pauses for a moment, considering his thoughts. He makes a decision unbeknownst to his present, and moves to continue removing his clothes instead. His hand slips from feeling up his neck towards his shoulder, helping him out of the coat and the shirt at the same time, revealing even more damp, icy flesh underneath. Skin contact between the two of them brings goosebumps in its wake, as if the lost man's very body itself was flaring up to stretch into the warmth of the other. Scary, dangerous, uncomfortable and wrong, yet so pleasant, necessary, and enchanting at the same time. He needs that warmth to stay alive, but that hand will never let him go once it truly latches onto him.

The fire crackles too loud to hear his thoughts over. Focusing on anything but what is being done to him is a herculean task, only overpowered by the endless ice encircling his lungs. The more naked he feels, the less he fights, with his shoulders now bare and free, and his arms slender and fragile and useless all the same. His boots are pulled off him with little issue, soaked through socks following behind. It feels equally awful, yet relieving to be rid of the heavy, water clogged clothes. A towel is given to him then, the man noticing his shamefully weak arms hugging himself desperately, which then hold onto the towel even more fiercely, laying it over as much of his body as he can. It provides minimal warmth and privacy, but is more than welcome.

His pants are being unbuttoned then, and he kicks out in horror instinctively. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like this! — “P-P-Please, I can, I c-can —”

“No,” — he is swiftly cut off by the stranger, a tone not unkind.

He curses his heavy, frozen tongue for stuttering and failing so miserably, just like the rest of his body. He curses the weather that caught up to him so suddenly, that caused the hypothermia and weakness, the insistent winds that thirsted him into submission, sucking all power out of him. He curses the man most of all, for finding him, for taking him without so much as a question, for bringing him to a warm log cabin, to a lovely little home dressed in glimmer and blown through by an aroma hard to resist, for laying him in front of the fireplace, telling him all the while that he will help, that he is saved, and that he is such a lucky man to be found by him. He curses the stranger for lying to him, and taking advantage of him, and pulling unbothered on his trousers until he is fully naked, in a stranger's home, in the middle of a quiet, snowy nowhere, frozen to near death and sobbing in petrifying fear, forced to endure powerlessness and lay under the stranger as he does as he pleases with him.

The towel quickly shoves downward as his only shield against peering, curious eyes. He begs, though he can barely manage to utter out a single word understandable through his unfeeling lips. He keeps begging, he keeps resisting, he keeps squirming and whining and crying and clawing, but he is simply not a threat. It would not take more than a gentle pair of large, soft hands to peel away his own from his body, bringing the towel with. The stranger pauses again, letting his gaze and touch wander his body, touching just over his navel with such gentleness and hunger that he can barely hold himself from screaming as loud as he can.

Luckily, he stops soon enough, mercifully not dipping any lower to feel him up any more. The unnerving silence — or lack of conversation, to be precise, as the stranger's present is more than vocal about how much he hates this — is finally broken, the man leaning over him rousing himself free from this terrifying, lustful, obsessive mood he put himself into with a couple blinks. His eyes return to focusing on him as a person; as opposed to drinking in his body as a gift. — “There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?”

He takes the dry, heavenly soft towel and bundles him in it with care, lifting and manhandling him into a sitting position looking towards the fire. Another towel comes soon after, massaging his scalp as the stranger begins rubbing his hair dry. It is uncomfortable, but at the moment, he is only glad he is no longer being straddled on the ground, now keeping his knees high up under his chin and his body well hidden under the layers of cover.

The change in mood is not lost on the stranger. — “This feels good, doesn't it? Much better, without all that fighting. You are safe with me.”

“N-N-N-No, I-I’m, I-I-I’m not, I'm not…”

“Shhhh…” — the man shushes him again, sitting down behind him to hug him close, — “it's hard to speak, I know. The shivering will die down soon enough. No need to force it. I know.”

In a sudden all-consuming anger that flares up in his chest at the condescending tone, he jerks backwards to headbutt the stranger holding him hostage in his embrace, in his house, getting way, way too comfortable with his helplessness. It's infuriating; not only his pathetic state of vulnerability making it impossible to even do anything on his own, but that the stranger thinks he can just do anything he wants, that he can just take him and touch him and mock him and talk over him like this, while knowing fully well that the only reason he is still unharmed is because his ‘gift’, as he so creepily put it, is still thawing out from a snowstorm. If they were on equal footing, he would already be unconscious from how hard he'd have pummelled him as soon as he started taking his clothes off.

Unfortunately, even through the fury that takes hold of him, his movements are sluggish at best, and the man easily dodges him both times he tries to fight back this way. Even worse, he laughs, and only holds him closer, squeezing the breath out of him with one arm, and holding his head snapped back over his shoulder with the other, effectively pinning him arched over himself. — “Simmer down, sweetness. You'll hurt yourself.”

He only struggles for a small few seconds, then swiftly runs out of energy. His anger remains, slowly melting like a candle, eating itself alive. — “Wh-Why won't, w-won’t you let me go? Please, just, j-j-just sto-pp t-touching me!”

The list of the stranger's creepy, condescending mannerisms just keeps growing ever longer. This time, he pets his hair affectionately, humming a sympathetic, yet disapproving sound. — “I am not letting you go because you need help. You are shivering like a leaf, poor thing. You can barely move. Barely talk. You cannot take care of yourself.”

“I can, I c-can!”

“No, you can not.” — The facade of gentle kindness slips just a tad, his voice, while still pleasant, cuts with an edge that wasn't there before. There is a finality to his words, almost parental; however, the danger feels much more intimidating than just a usual scolding. The rumble of the stranger's tone right next to his ear doesn't help either. — “Be patient. I will show you how well I can take care of you, you'll see. I am very generous. It's the least I can do, after all.”

It takes an indescribable amount of will to force himself to even understand the extent of his situation, much less fight and argue with a mad man, so he just weeps in silence, going limp once again. He is slowly, excruciatingly warming by the fire, at least. One of his worries will be solved, and he is still alive. That is definitely a good thing. Now if only he wasn't basically kidnapped for that to have happened.

He holds out hope for when he feels better. Once he can move and speak like normal again, and stand his ground — or even just stand, period — he will fight him off, or look for an exit.

For now, he is exhausted. The warmth surroundings him, however unpleasant, relaxes him further into the arms of his captor. His still damp hair is becoming room temperature. His quivering is fading, bit by bit. He still twitches, his lungs still feel less than adequate, and he is just so incredibly tired. The stranger stands up at some point, leaving him for a while. Says he will return with some warm soup — must have gotten bored of waiting in silence. Without the support of the other man, he leans to the side and ends up curled up on the floor, dozing off.

By the time the man returns, steaming hot soup in his hands, he finds his gift passed out, cocooned up in the middle of his living room, right under the christmas tree. It's a delightful sight, even more so once he notices his rough wheezes as he sleeps, a perfect background noise in tandem with the quiet Händel playing in the hallway. It's so peaceful — the snow has covered everything outside with a thick coat, the sun has gone down, the fireplace has warmed up the whole cabin and the food is ready. It is the most perfect Christmas evening, made flawless by having such a pretty little present sleeping soundly under the tree. Vulnerable, gorgeous, far from home and with the sweetest little tears still glistening on his cheeks rose red from the cold.

Nothing could ruin this, least of all an unruly present.

The stranger sits down on his couch, watching intently the delicious sight, sipping on the delicious vegetable soup. He looks so defenceless like that. Naked, bundled up, unconscious. So many awful ideas spawn in the stranger's mind as he fantasises about all the things they will do together. All the fun they will have.

He could keep him in the shed, but not just yet, it's much too cold. He can keep him in his house, but then he will not have his own room. Then again, his gift doesn't need his own room. He could stay in the stranger's bedroom, locked up nice and safe. They could sleep in the same bed… maybe he could even chain him to the bedpost. Have a sweet thing like him always be right where he belongs. He does not need to leave, all he needs to do is let himself be taken care of. Yes, that sounds just delightful.

He will have to make sure to keep him in check. He can already tell this boy will be trouble if left to his own devices. He will need to be tamed. Carefully. He will need to be taught his place. He will need to be punished harshly for every wrong thought that crosses his mind. That's how he will be good enough to keep. Good enough to spoil with all the attention and care he could ever imagine. A good boy, who will keep him company out here, all on his own. The stranger will make him perfect.

No one will hear him scream. He can yell and fight all he wants. He cannot leave here. Not now that he was given to the stranger like this. The best Christmas present he could have ever asked for.

Hopefully by the time next year's Christmas comes around, he will have learned to be thankful for all his owner had done for him on this day, and will have had plenty of reminders carved into his skin, marking him as property, that he will be able to admire from the sofa like he does today. He will watch him wheeze in his sleep, and curl up bare in front of the crackling fire, and he will go up to him then and remind him of the day he was given to him as the most perfect little present.

<3

Masterlist I Ko-fi

#whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #my writing #whump writing #fear #sadistic whumper #hypothermia #captivity #noncon touching #noncon stripping #nsft #suggestive #crying #this came out a bit late but eho cares its still Christmas in my heart #it is not massive tho! i have defeated my curse! i can write shorter things!

[rabbitdrabbles]

ok but what about a whumper who wakes up their whumpee super gently. one who cuddles them in their blankets every morning and presses kisses into their hair, hushes their slurred protests with sweet nothings, rocks them slowly and rubs their shoulders as they patiently rouse them.

then, after the initial affection, and after whumpee is good and awake, they’ll drag them off for yet another day of torture.

#basically this is about my OCs #intimate whumper #creepy comfort? #aftercare?? #more like before care lol #creepy whumper #whump ideas #whump prompt? #whump idea #whumperflies #creepy comfort #whump tropes #whump #whumblr #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #whump community #rabbit’s babbles