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cicutagreninja · 1 month

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a imprisoned (possibly feral?) whumpee having a panic attack after waking up in the cell. Thrashing around in a blind panic, maybe hitting their head if in a tiny space. Maybe screaming for help. Caretaker finally being allowed to come in and calm them down.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re okay, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. J-just breathe for me for a second, okay?”

#whump #panic attack whump #imprisoned whumpee #feral whumpee #hurt/comfort #do I tag this as concussion? Idk #Also please excuse the bad writing it’s 9:45 pm TvT #coracyshard

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whump-or-whatever · 1 year

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This is a reminder to leave your whumpee absolutely ruined.

Leave them shaking like a leaf, hardly able to draw a breath.

Leave them covered in so many bruises they can barely move without wincing.

Leave them absolutely blanketed in scars that will never fade.

Leave them rocking back and forth, tears streaming down their face in the midst of a panic attack.

Leave them unable to be near another person without eyeing them warily and flinching every time they move.

Leave them so out of it they can’t see, can’t hear, can’t speak, can’t move, can’t think.

Leave them stumbling and tripping over their own feet, scrambling to get back up each time as they try to escape.

Leave them struggling against the encroaching darkness as they bleed out.

Leave them half-drowned, soaked to the bone, clothes clinging to them as they sputter and gasp on the floor.

Leave them shivering, teeth chattering, trying to rub warmth back into their body.

Leave them delirious with fever, head lolling, eyes unfocused, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Leave them begging for mercy, promising to do anything just to make it stop.

Leave them exhausted, barely able to keep their eyes open let alone put one foot in front of the other.

Leave them so broken they can’t bring themself to care about anyone or anything.

Leave them a blubbering mess, stumbling over their words trying to say the right thing to please whumper.

Leave them so mortified by everything that’s happened to them that they don’t even want to be found anymore because they don’t want people to know.

#whump #whump prompt #whump idea #whump community #whump tropes #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump prompts #whumpee #ruin your whumpees #just do it y’all #panic attack whump #injury whump #blood loss #drowning whump #cold whump #fever whump

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jordanstrophe · 9 months

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When whumpee was rescued, caretaker was the one who had nightmares and panic attacks.

Waking up in the middle of the night in a cold-sweat thinking whumpee's been taken again; running to their room to make sure they were still safe and asleep in their bed for the third time that night.

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #caretaking #whump prompts #caretaker prompts #whump angst #protective caretaker #recovering whumpee #nightmare whump #panic attack whump #rescued whumpee

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inky-the-artist · 9 months

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cw: panic attack mentioned, hurt/comfort, recovery

a small whumpee huddled in a tight space when having a panic attack or being overwhelmed

and a bigger caretaker who wants to comfort them somehow managing to squeeze themselves in too, making whumpee laugh because of how comically they had to fold their limbs

#whump #whump aftercare #whumpee #caretaker #panic attack whump #whump panic attack #whump prompt #small whumpee #good caretaker #hurt/comfort #recovery whump #potentially found family

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tildeathiwillwrite · 5 months

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Merry Whumpmas 2023 Day 7: Hyperventilating

(can you believe we've gone through a whole week of this?)

TW: nightmares, hyperventilating, panic attack

Whumpee snapped awake, blood pounding in their ears. Their breathing came in gasping, wheezing spurts as they struggled to draw air. Panicking, they clawed at the blankets that tried to constrict around their throat, only to find that they’d kicked off the blankets in the throes of the nightmare.

Their fingers fumbled at their throat, finding nothing there.

Theycouldn’tbreathetheycouldn’tbreathethey—

“Whumpee?”

Whumpee flinched back, tears streaming down their face as Caretaker rapped softly on the door.

Their chest was hurting.

Why was their chest hurting?

They pressed their hands to their chest, feeling the hard bone of their ribs.

Is this a heart attack?

Is this what a heart attack feels like?

The door swung open, and Caretaker poked their head inside. “I thought I heard screaming, are you—”

Whumpee shook their head violently. “I—I—can’t—” The dark room spun around them. The bed swayed beneath them like a ship in stormy ocean waters.

“Oh shit!” Caretaker swore, flicking the lights on and blinding Whumpee. They squeezed their eyes shut, still struggling to draw breath.

Caretaker’s weight settled next to them. “Shit!” they muttered, “Uh… it’s okay, I’m right here, frantically Googling what the hell this is.”

A brief pause. “Okay, it says to breathe in through your nose and… slowly breathe out through your mouth, okay? Here, do it with me: in through your nose…” they inhaled slowly. Whumpee copied them as best they could.

“Good. Now, out through your mouth…” Caretaker exhaled, and Whumpee did as they were told.

For a few minutes, they sat there in silence, just breathing. Finally, Whumpee realized their chest had stopped hurting, and it wasn’t a struggle to draw breath anymore. They opened their eyes and wiped away the tears on their cheeks.

“Better?” Caretaker asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Was it nightmares again?”

“...yeah…”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Whumpee glanced at Caretaker. “...I dunno.”

Caretaker shrugged. “That’s okay. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“...promise?”

Caretaker smiled softly. “Yeah. Promise.”

#merry whumpmas #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whump scenario #panic attack #panic attack whump #hyperventilating #hyperventilating whump #my writing

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lordofthewhumps · 6 months

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Republic Of Doyle Season 3 Episode 7

Des having a panic attack and then injected with an auto injector in the leg

#whump community #whumpblr #whump stuff #whump tropes #whumpee #whump #injected #panic attack #panic attack Whump #republicofdoyle #markobrien #whumpedit

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redstainedsocks · 2 years

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B-b-basement

More of the safe house arc. Had this one swimming around in my head for months and hey, look what happens when you sit down in front of a keyboard for 30 minutes! Welcome to the We All Hate Tom Club

Contents: confinement, emotional whump/panic attack, trauma response, past!torture references, whumped by team member

The smell of a mouth-watering breakfast greeted Zach when he awoke. Despite Tom being his only company for the day it dragged him out of bed and down the stairs at a quicker pace. He found Tom at the kitchen table, digging into slices of toast and bacon, a thick porridge creamy in a bowl beside him, and some pre-heated muffins cooling on a rack beside the oven.

“Mornin’,” Tom said, waving a fork in his direction.

“You cooked.”

“I’m a man of many talents.” A smirk flitted across Tom’s face that set an uneasy feeling in Zach’s stomach.

He nodded, absently, taking in the food. “Enough for two?” he asked, quietly.

“Oh absolutely, I already served you a portion in fact.”

“You did?” Zach shifted, looking for the lie, the trick. Assessing the room. He’d play along with whatever this game was, but an inclination of what to expect would be much preferable.

“Yeah, follow me.”

On heavy feet Zach trailed after Tom, leaving the enticing scents to fade as they walked back to the hallway. They stopped before the door to the basement, the lower level of the house that made up the third floor. Unusual for the area, but the house was built on a hill. There was enough of an incline to make use of the space but the floor below had very little light, only a few high windows.

Tom opened the door with a flourish. Like an animal on the prowl he watched with eager eyes and Zach swallowed, face flushing. He knew he couldn’t hide the uptick in his breathing, the slight tremor in his hands.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Take a look.”

He edged closer to the door and peered down the stairs, sure enough, at the bottom there was a tray of steaming food. “Why?”

“I noticed you had a thing about this, wouldn’t go near the door. Didn’t offer to help change a bulb down there last week when one blew. I wondered how far the fear went.”

“Far enough,” Zach replied, crossing his arms.

“Well, that’s your breakfast. All you have to do is go get it.”

Zach looked up, studying Tom’s face. He worked his jaw, teeth grinding. “And then I can eat?”

“Yep!” The grin that spread across Tom’s face was insufferable. How did he manage to see so much, to find such cruel and insidious games to play? Was Zach really so easy to read?

“Fine.” He’d been through worse, he wasn’t going to be hurt. He could out-manoeuvre Tom on this one and surprise him by not giving in.

He took a step. Another. His stomach flipped, and suddenly he wasn’t all that hungry anymore. The dim interior of the staircase felt like it would go on forever, stretching ahead of him until it warped and wobbled. He took a breath, and another, forced air into his lungs to keep his legs moving. As he passed the threshold his hand shot out to steady against the wall, palm flat against the textured paint.

Nothing good had ever happened in a basement, not to him. Dark, lonely, pain-filled places. Stuck underground, in cold, damp rooms that clung around his skin, stuck like tar in his memories. Black places. Punishments and penance, paid with bruises and more.

He was three steps down when the memories crowded, he doubled over, took another breath. There was nothing down here. Nothing. He straightened his spine, but still his steps were heavy, as though convinced he was voluntarily walking to his doom. There was a tremor in his legs, his left knee buckled. He stumbled down two stairs before he got control of it.

There was a snicker behind him and he groaned, cursing Tom, himself, the world. He just had to get it over with. With a burst of speed he quick-stepped to the bottom and leaned into the hand bracing his weight. “There,” he called back hoarsely. “Are you satisfied?”

Tom didn’t respond. Zach rounded on him, mouth parted on a breath. Hinges squeaked, and he got one second of a grin and the look of triumph on Tom’s face before the door began to swing shut. He waited a beat, one, two, another, a fourth, a fifth. The door stayed on it’s trajectory. A scream welled up, and he strangled it until it was only a coarse yelp.

His legs found their strength in a flash, and he bounded up the stairs. “Don’t! Wait! Don’t, let me out!”

He was closing in on the top of the stairs, moving faster than he had in weeks. His hands stretched to catch it before the lock clicked into place. Please please please. Whispers of other days, other times, crowded around him, hammering into him like they might rip a hole through his chest.

The door clicked into the lock. He slammed into it with a thud that reverberated through his wrists, jolted him up to the elbows.

He did scream, then. He wailed, hands pounding on the wood. “Tom, please, PLEASE! Don’t do this, you don’t have to do this.”

It was undignified and humiliating and even feeling that he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me out.”

A solid weight thumped into the door on the other side and he held his breath, waiting.

“Zach, you still there?”

“Yes.”

A low chuckle. “So dramatic, god, you really can’t stomach anything these days can you?”

“No,” he admitted softly. Would admit to anything Tom accused him of, just to make this end.

“Tsk, shame. It’s going to be a long morning then, isn’t it? Hope you enjoy your meal at least.”

“Tom!”

Footsteps echoed, moving away, and the door remained locked. He pawed at it, rattled the handle, shoved at it with his shoulder but it didn’t budge. He slid to the floor, one hand still gripping the handle, and hung his head. Fat, salty tears slipped from his eyes and he did nothing to stem them. He couldn’t tell if they were shame, or fear, or grief for who he could be, used to be, if he wasn’t so cowardly, so lost. But it didn’t matter, there was no-one to see anyway.

#team whump #zach and archer #panic attack whump #emotional whump #angst #confinement #phobia whump #referenced torture #referenced captivity #whump series #OC Whump #cruel whumper

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bloodshottears · 2 years

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Whumptober Day 7: Silent Panic Attack

Whumpee's vocal cords got removed, but that won't stop them from having a full blown panic attack when triggered.

#whumptober2022 #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #whump ideas #whumpee #panic attack whump #throat whump

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a-muzzled-hound · 2 years

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"Waking up disoreinated"

WHUMPTOBER! DAY 4

Trigger warning!!:No comfort, isolation, disorientation, serve injuries, pet related whump, kid/pre teen whump, trauma, panic attack

Ashtyn would finally wake up after about 6 hours of precious sleep- and right after an lengthy torture session of him and what can be said, his fighting ‘trainers’ although, theyre much more like dog trainers, treating him as such. Blood seeping through his filmsy clothes, waking up to his still untreated injuries, with the only thing given to him was an shit load of drugs to drug him up for the unimaginable slow progress of pain they had put him through for about 3 hours.

His head grew heavy as he’d look down at his injuries, an jammed up ankle that had gotten stompped by an boot that can be easily assumed to have spikes right on the heel from the sharp holes imprinted on his ankle

Some stabbings into ashtyns quads, nothing too special just, an knife that slowly got digged in further and further from earlier, with the stabbings digging into his skin, tissue, some veins infact, muscle, with the men not stopping til the whole blade got launched in to take out once ashtyn would give an loud reaction to shock him. With each one going down his right arm, and side of his left leg, both in an pretty straight line, losing quite abit of blood, leaving him pale and fever looking.

Of course he’d begin to panic, it felt like he was getting choked by an bare wire from behind, more and more he looked, with the injuries weighing on him, the pain would weigh on him rather quickly as tears began to race down his cheeks, dripping onto the cold flooring gritting his teeth as an attempt to hold back the dying to get out wailing, as he’d look at the tightly closed off bars then his #1 companion for.. how ever long hes had him, years, his stuffed teddybear, then back at the covered injuries, most of it getting covered by his filmsy dirty, stained clothing, as he’d of course wailing loudly unable to hold it back anymore with more and more tears flushing out of his eyes looking around for something to properly aid himself, nothing!

It hurted to cry, so, so much, but he couldn’t stop, the pain was so much, so overwhelming, he just couldn’t stop, not to mention this is a literal, almost 13 year old, he’d fall to his side, looking down at the injuries in an emotional way like his world just got crushed, although, his ‘world’ or any perspective of it, shattered a LONG, time ago. Any faith he had had been shattered an right infront of him too. And now, this is just proof of how utterly destroyed it is.

He wanted.. He didn't know what he wanted. Just for this pain to go away, for fucks sake!! He'd cry even louder the more the pain burnt, stung, pierced his mind like an knife getting continuously dragged on the sides of his brain and heart all at once "STOP! STO-AT-STAOP!" He'd just look at the direction of his beloved teddy bear, dragging himself to it with one big drag with only his right arm, holding the teddy bear to his chest trying to take breathes more slower but it was no use, he was basically suffocating the teddybear

His tears did not flee either or stop, as he now had an running nose with snot dripping down his lips, and soon enough down his chin as more screams for help emerged from him.

"ME-SIHARGH!" Coughing from all of the- well- everything came from his lungs looking up at the staircase in hopes someone would come down "PLEASAG! HE.. HULP! HELP!?" hollering on top of his lungs, now!? Will anyone come now?! The sobbing just continued clutching his teddy bear, falling to his injured side.

Left there. His face was red, snot covered, tear filled, with a heavily bruised eye and cheekbone. This wasn't right! In any regard.. The fact he was this injured, hurt, young, and worst of all, he had no one else, no one really, nobody could help him out, nor care to help him out.. And all of this, just because his parents didn’t want him anymore, considering he wasn’t good at a single tiny cotton picking thing they asked him to do, failed every single time

Which broke his mental state even more as he'd lay there, squeezing his teddy bear, which already was drenched in dried blood, dead ants and such, filthy.. That teddy bear really did have an awful odor to it, but ashtyn didnt have anything else, anyone else.. Its been all hes had for god knows how long.. He'd just stay there, twisting and turning in the corner wailing with his wailing nearly echoing from how empty and silent the household would be.

—-

#whumptober2022 #whumptober day 4 #whump #whumpee #tumblr writers #tramua whump #tramua #child whump #pet whump #no comfort #disorientation #drug whump #injuries #panic attack whump #hopeless whumpee #hopelessness

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knuckles-and-knives · 2 months

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First thing I do is push Keme into a lake in front of Drusus

Keme screamed out when he was pushed, his heart nearly stopping when water met skin. He was able to get to the surface, but barely, as he flailed in the water, screaming for help as a panic attack began to rise.

No no no no no no no no no no

"KEME!" Drusus screamed, eyes wide at the sight of Keme being pushed by you. He rushed forward, ready to push you out of the way to get to his drowning and panicking husband. His heart pounded in his chest as fear gripped him. He needed to get to Keme, and fast.

#👊 drusus #🔪 keme #whump rp #whump #drowning #panic attack whump

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unboundprompts · 8 months

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If you’re still doing request, is it OK if you either

Describe writing a panic attack?

Or

Describe someone who has gray eyes?

-> a link for gray eye descriptions: x

How to Write a Panic Attack

Physical Symptoms of a Panic Attack:

pounding or racing heart

sweating

chills

trembling

difficulty breathing

weakness or dizziness

tingly or numb hands

chest pain

stomach pain or nausea

feeling lightheaded

tense muscles

dry mouth

constriction in the chest

feeling like they're being choked

Other Symptoms:

heightened vigilance for danger and physical symptoms

anxious and irrational thinking

a strong feeling of dread, danger or foreboding

fear of going mad, losing control, or dying

feelings of unreality and detachment from the environment

Triggers for a Panic Attack:

something unexpected (ex: a phone call)

a reminder (objects, smells, locations, specific phrases, etc. that can be tied back to a traumatic experience)

stress (from work, a relationship, family, etc. that has been building up)

silence (ex: being alone in a quiet room. The silence can amplify a sense of isolation)

flashbacks (a trigger that causes the person to flash back to a traumatic memory)

out of nowhere (sometimes panic attacks just get triggered by seemingly nothing)

Writing Prompts:

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He couldn't breathe. Oh God, he couldn't breathe and he was going to die.

She knew the panic was building up, but it crashed over her like a tsunami that swept her off her feet. The pull threatened to pull her out to sea and it was all-consuming.

They felt the panic begin to wrap its arms around them like a shadow.

"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"

"Don't touch me-- don't touch me!"

Her mind was running at a million miles a second but she couldn't pinpoint a single thought.

"It's okay. You're safe."

An icy hand had reached through their ribcage and was squeezing their heart. They couldn't breathe and they didn't know what to do to regain their breath.

"My chest hurts. It hurts."

"I can't!"

They were a crumpled heap, stowed away in the corner as tears streamed down their face.

She felt like she was on a boat out at sea, the room swaying and adding to the nausea that was washing over her.

He felt like he was having a heart attack.

They gasped for air but each breath felt shallower than the last.

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, beating like a panicked drum to the rhythm of her fear.

He felt like he was standing on the edge of a building.

They couldn't move. It was like someone was holding down their limbs, the panic rendering them utterly frozen.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #ask box prompts #tw panic attack #prompt list #prompts #how to write a panic attack #panic attack #writing panic attacks #hurt/comfort prompts #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump writing

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whump-or-whatever · 1 year

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Whump Vignette #2

Contents: hyperventilation, startle response, insomnia, panic attack, ptsd symptoms, recovery whump, emotional whump

Whumpee laid in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. For some reason, despite the fact that they were tired and it was 2 am, they could not fall asleep. Letting out a frustrated sigh, they swung their legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. They quickly pulled on a hoodie and some sweatpants. Padding softly down the hall past Caretaker’s room, they pulled their shoes on and slipped out the door into the cool night.

Whumpee walked along the city street, hands shoved deep in their pockets, eyes downcast. The cool air helped them feel immediately calmer. Every so often someone would walk past on the other side of the street, but for the most part they were alone.

At one point, they looked up to see a man coming down the road towards them. They could tell from the way he moved that he was not sober, so they stepped off the sidewalk onto the side of the road to allow him space to pass. As the two crossed paths, the man turned to Whumpee and said suddenly and quite loudly, “where are you going?”

Whumpee jolted at the volume of the man’s voice. Not really wanting to engage the man, they merely kept walking without a word, heart thundering in their chest.

“Fuck you, dude,” the man yelled after them, but Whumpee could hear him turn and continue walking the opposite direction.

Whumpee let out a long breath through pursed lips. A year ago they might have easily laughed something like that off, but after their time with Whumper… Now they could only focus on the adrenaline coursing through their body. They tried to bring their attention back to the calm hum of the city, continuing on down the road.

They had pretty well returned to their original state of calm after another 15 minutes of walking. 20 minutes after that, they heard a car drive up behind them and slow down.

They hardly had time to look back over their shoulder before the car laid on the horn, which had been modified to sound like a train horn. Whumpee’s full body recoiled, leaving them crouched down with one arm up, huddled against the foundation of the building that bordered the sidewalk.

The car’s tires screeched and it sped away, taking with it the laughter of its teenage occupants.

Whumpee felt the energy leave them as they fell forward onto their hands and knees. They sucked in breaths, eyes closed as they tried to regain their composure. The cement felt rough and cold and real against the palms of their hands.

After a few moments their heart rate began to calm and they stood up shakily. They brushed their hands off on their pants and covered their eyes, letting the cool of their palms soothe the flushed skin of their face.

They took a shaky breath and felt their throat choke up. Pursing their lips, Whumpee angrily wiped a tear from the corner of their eye with their hoodie sleeve. They looked to the sky and blinked rapidly to clear their eyes before continuing down the road.

They now had the stuffy feeling that you get in your head when you feel like you might burst into tears at any moment. Their mind raced, and their walking was starting to feel more like running away.

5 minutes had passed and Whumpee’s mind had not calmed down at all when they once again heard a car slowing down behind them. Red hot anger flashed through Whumpee at the thought that the kids had come back to torment them again.

Without thinking, Whumpee grabbed the nearest loose item to them, which just so happened to be a broken chair someone had left on the curb, and hurled it as hard as they could at the car.

It bounced off hood the car and crashed to the ground in front as the car slammed to a stop. The driver shoved the car into park and opened the door, climbing out.

“What the hell, Whumpee?” Asked Caretaker, their arms out and brow furrowed in confusion. Their face quickly changed, however, as they looked from their car to Whumpee.

Before Whumpee had even realized that it was Caretaker in the car, they had fallen into a sitting position on the sidewalk, hugging themself and sobbing, hyperventilating.

“Shit, Whumpee,” Caretaker muttered as they jogged over and knelt down beside them. “Hey, it’s alright, what’s going on?”

Whumpee shook their head, not making eye contact with Caretaker, who pulled them into a hug. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I’ve got you.”

Whumpee sobbed against Caretaker’s chest, hand fisted in their shirt.

The two of them stayed like that for a few minutes, Caretaker rubbing circles into Whumpee’s back soothingly until their sobs quieted down into sniffles.

Caretaker pulled back a little, their hands on Whumpee’s shoulders. Finally, Whumpee met their eye. Caretaker could see the shame of the situation beginning to register on Whumpee’s face. Smiling sadly, Caretaker used their sleeve to gently dab away the tears around Whumpee’s eyes. “It’s fine, we’re good, don’t worry about it.”

Confusion crossed Whumpee’s face, but Caretaker smiled at them with such a reassuring look that understanding fell over Whumpee like a wave. Everything, anything, all of it… it was all good. Caretaker wasn’t mad. They didn’t need an explanation, they didn’t care about their car, they didn’t need to know why Whumpee had broken down, why they had left in the middle of the night alone. It was all just… okay.

Whumpee merely nodded in relief, feeling overwhelmingly grateful for Caretaker in that moment.

“Do you think you can stand? It’s getting kind of cold down here,” Caretaker asked gently.

Whumpee nodded again and took Caretaker’s helping hand up. “Let’s get you back home. The car should be nice and warm.” Caretaker helped Whumpee into the passenger seat before grabbing the now even more broken chair and setting it back on the sidewalk. They got into the car and did a 3-point turn, heading back towards home.

• • •

Fin

#whump #whump scenario #whump idea #whump community #whumpblr #whumpee #caretaker #panic attack whump #panic attack #emotional whump #whump vignette #recovery whump #yes there is actually a guy in the city I’m living in who has modded his car horn to sound like a train #and yes he uses it to scare the shit out of people on the street #and yes it makes me contemplate homicide

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jordanstrophe · 5 months

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Hallow Island, The Inspector

[Masterlist]

CW: Defiant, Imprisoned, manhandled, controlling whumpers, auction mentioned

Whumpee restlessly hammered their fists on the cell door. They knew it was useless, but if it annoyed anyone beyond the doors, then so be it.

Stress kept their heart on a constant adrenaline high; it was the only thing keeping them from collapsing. They touched their cheekbone and felt swelling; the backhand from earlier must have left a bruise.

The door rattled as whumpee jumped to their feet. The two guards from earlier came in, accompanied by one more.

" .... This is it? This is all they got?" The Inspector scoffed, stepping in with the guards. "They're going to do an entire auction with one person? Gracious what a waste of all our time. Hold them, please." They snapped a glove over their hand.

"Wait! I don't have anything of value, if you're looking for money you've got the wrong person," Whumpee argued, sinking to their knees to avoid the guards, who each grabbed a wrist and pulled them to stand straight.

"Oh we know that, dear. Luck for us we're not after anything you have." The guards dragged whumpee within a foot of the Inspector; whumpee shrunk their neck and clenched their teeth in response.

"You see the thing of value is you." They grinned, reaching for whumpee's face as they flinched and buried their face in the guards shoulder on their right. The guard seemed to be taken aback a bit. They tried to gently nudge their face but whumpee wouldn't budge.

"Come now, just let me have them." The Inspector hissed, shoving the guard back until they could grab whumpee's jawline. "Stand straight, look at me, sweet thing." They cooed. Whumpee's gaze was pure death as they glared at the Inspector. Tears in their eyes were wiped by a thumb across their cheekbone. The bruise was apparent as they winced.

"Is that.... A bruise?" The Inspector squinted. There was silence for a moment as they pressed their thumb hard into whumpee's cheekbone-

-"OW! Stop it!" Whumpee barked, freeing their face and burying it back onto the guards shoulder, who looked completely flustered and didn't know what to do.

"What idiot did that? Who hit them?! Was it you?!" They accused the guard on the left.

"It was whumper. They tried to run right off the plane." They shrugged.

"The imbecile! We have one living thing up for auction tonight and it's flawed!" The inspector cried, rummaging through their bag. "It's fine, I can fix this. It's my job." They muttered.

"Just let me go and no one will know! You already said I wasn't worth your time." Whumpee tried to plead.

"What? When did I say that?" The inspector raised their head. "Your range of buyers will go mad no matter what we throw on stage. And since you're... Well, it, we could look at a bidding war. I heard the last batch off the plane didn't last long." They shrugged.

Dread poured into whumpees body at their last words. Their spine felt cold, their heart couldn't beat much faster as it fluttered uncomfortably. Whumpee gritted their teeth and struggled for air; tears freely flowed down their cheeks.

"But I'm not... I-I'm not worth anything." They quietly muttered. The inspector raised their head and whumpee felt the guard on their right clutch their arm a little softer.

"Oh, darling." They tsked, cupping whumpee's cheek.

"After tonight, you will see exactly how much you're worth." They smiled.

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inky-the-artist · 1 year

Text

cw: stranger whumpee and caretaker, restraints

a stranger caretaker who rescues an unconscious whumpee and wants to help them purely because of the goodness of their heart, but at the same time they feel intimidated by the whumpee and don't trust them, so they restrain them for when they wake up, just in case

and whumpee does indeed wake up, hurt, exhausted and terrified and the restraints certainly don't help them feel any safer, so now the caretaker has to convince them they have no ill intentions despite what they did