#possessive caretakers

[jordanstrophe]

I love it when whumpee isn't used to having a caretaker. They're always standing alone in the face of danger, but suddenly caretaker grabs their arm, yanks whumpee behind them and yell "Don't you dare lay a finger on them"

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #caretaking #protective caretaker #possessive caretaker #whump prompt #whump scenario #caretaker prompt #caretaking prompt #strong whumpee #whump community #comfort whump

[villain-enthusiast]

The hero coughed blood.

Fucking shit, they thought frantically, hand pressed over the gaping wound in their side. Their new opponent packed a serious punch, more than what the agency had expected when they sent the hero out to stop them. Somehow they’d escaped, but not without the nasty stab to their stomach.

Class two villain my ass. The hero grunted as they stumbled into an alleyway, nearly slamming their shoulder into one of the brick walls. They slipped into damp corner and sat down gingerly, their breathing shallow. Cold sweat broke out on their forehead.

They shook the sputtering communication device on their wrist. Busted. The hero suddenly realized with disturbing clarity that they would die here if they didn’t get help soon, bleeding their guts out on the floor.

Blinding pain shot through their torso, and they closed their eyes, muscles clenching. They couldn’t stand up, not without passing out. And with their internal bleeding, pressure to the wound would be largely ineffective.

They were so totally fucked.

“Hero?”

The hero’s lids snapped open. The cloaked figure before them dipped and swayed, but they forced themselves to concentrate. No, that wasn’t their assaulter, that was—

“Villain,” they rasped.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” The villain’s tone was mocking, but could the hero hear a hint of concern?

The hero attempted a sloppy smirk as they approached. “Oh, y’know, just decided to get stabbed and die today. Regular hero shenanigans.” Shit, their words were slurring.

The villain didn’t respond, crouching down in front of them. Their fingers brushed over the throbbing cut on their cheek, ghosted over the bruise on their jaw—it was funny, the hero noted, how the villain's first instinct was to check their face—before trailing down to the still-bleeding wound at their side. Their hand paused.

The silence was so thick that the hero could hear their wavering heartbeat in their ears.

“Who did this to you.” The villain’s words were quiet. Deadly.

The hero choked on a disbelieving laugh. “Like you care,” they wheezed, but even they could hear the doubt in their own voice. When the villain continued to wait for an answer, they added, "One of your lackeys.” Their eyes fluttered as a wave of fatigue overwhelmed them.

The villain snapped their fingers. "Hey, stay with me." They gently removed the hero's limp hand from their side, examining the gash. They swore under their breath.

"That bad, huh," the hero huffed.

“This looks like [other villain]’s work,” the villain muttered. “Destroying your comms, letting you escape with a fatal wound, making you think you’ve gotten away when really,” their eyes slid up to meet the hero’s detached stare, “you’re on the brink of death.”

“How kind of them.”

The villain shook their head. “Why were you even fighting them? They’re superhero’s responsibility. You’re supposed to be going after me.” They paused, gaze darkening. “And only me.”

The hero shrugged minutely. “Agency assignment.” Their muscles clenched as white hot pain rattled through them again, leaving them weaker than ever. “Can you just kill me already? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?” They titled their head back against the wall and closed their eyes, feeling their body grow more distant by the second. “Just fucking do it.”

They heard the villain move, and they waited for the knife against their throat or the gun at their temple, but instead, gloved hands slid under their back and legs, lifting them up.

What? The hero shifted weakly, but the villain shushed them and bundled them closer to their chest.

“No questions. I’ve got you,” the villain murmured, holding them tightly as they sprinted down the alley, making sure they didn’t jostle their injury. “You can sleep now. I’ve got you.”

And the hero, somehow feeling safe in their enemy’s arms and too tired to wonder why they were being saved, succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness not a second later.

.

part two

#this one’s longer than usual sorry #couldn’t help myself with the ‘who did this to u’ type shit #hero #villain #hero and villain #villain and hero #hero/villain #villain/hero #villain caretaker #possessive villain #but they’re kinda nice yk #enemies to lovers #maybe if u squint #my writing #writing snippet #villain-enthusiast

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

things an intimidating/possessive caretaker can say to whumpee

tw: mention of violence, manipulation (depends on how you view it) and ed. scroll past this if it might upset you

“you wanna tell me where you got those bruises from?”

“roll up your sleeve, you know I don’t like repeating myself.”

“I know you’re bleeding. I can smell your blood, and you’re pale. now you wanna tell me what happened and who hurt you? or do I have to find it out myself?”

“who did this to you?”

“I know you and I know it when you lie to me, and you know how I feel about being lied to.”

“no one is going to love and accept you like I do. don’t you understand that?”

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at the scum that thought he could do this to you, and I will make him pay for it.”

“stop squirming and it will hurt less.”

“I’m sorry for yelling. I supposed I got so angry that I lost it, but I wasn’t angry at you. I was angry at that sick fuck, and at myself for not seeing the signs sooner.”

“is that really what you think of me? you think I would — you think I would hurt you?”

“you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“no, I won’t allow you to put yourself in danger like that again. and if I have to tie you up or chain you down to this very bed to make sure you stay put, I will.”

“you can hate me all you want, but I’m not letting you hurt yourself anymore.”

“eat. this is not a question, you have to eat something and I’m hoping that you won’t make me force you.”

“quit your crying, it’s not going to help.”

“it’s okay, you can cry.”

“I am saving you whether or not you want to be saved.”

“you’re a stubborn brat, but you’re my stubborn brat. I will not let anybody touch what is mine.”

“I told you to listen to me. you should’ve listened to me.”

“I don’t want you to apologize to me, I want you to stop doing this to yourself.”

“let me see [the wound]. I said let me see.”

“there’s a reason people are afraid of me. I am capable of the most brutal acts of violence, yes, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not gonna hurt you the way I hurt everybody else. you… I’m not gonna hurt you. you don’t have to trust me, but I won’t hurt you.”

“this is your home now. it’ll be easier if you accept that.”

“everything I do, I do it for your own good.”

“you don’t realize how much you mean to me, do you?”

“I know it hurts, but I need you to be brave for me right now.”

“stop it. stop fighting against me. I am helping you.”

“I’d burn the world down for you.”

“look what you made me do. none of this would’ve happened if you just listened to me.”

“I saved you. all these deaths? it’s worth it. I would do anything and everything to keep you safe.”

#possessive caretaker #whump #caretaker #angst #writing #writing challenge #writer #enemies to lovers #whump trope #whump tropes #whump prompt #whump prompts #ao3 #whumper #tropes #trope #writing trope #writing tropes #whumpblr #whump community #whump blog #whump writing #writeblr #writing prompt #writing prompts #prompt #promote #angst trope #angst tropes #angst prompt

[whumblr]

Whump prompt #64

"That's my mark on them," Whumper purred as Caretaker stared at the scar on Whumpee's shoulder. "They're mine. And you're not taking them anywhere."

"Oh yeah?" Caretaker snapped back. Blazing eyes found Whumpee's, who looked away in shame. But Caretaker wouldn't have it. He grabbed their face, both hands, looked them deep in the eyes.

And he kissed them full on the mouth.

Whumpee sputtered, utterly confused, embarrassed even, a hand shakily reaching up to touch over their lips as Caretaker pulled away. They stumbled lightly, but an arm snagged around theirs and pulled them against Caretaker.

"That's my mark on them," Caretaker snarled. "I can easily plant one right over yours. And they're coming home. With me!"

#bonus if remains of lipstick show or fierce hickeys #bonusbonus if whumper taught whumpee caretaker wouldn't want them anymore #whump #whump prompt #caretaker #feral caretaker #confused whumpee #intimate whumper #h/c #fluffy angst? #flogging and snogging #protective caretaker #possessive whumper #my prompts #my writing

[meraki24601]

Ring

“Whumpee, where did you get that ring?”

Caretaker had gotten used to Whumpee flinching. It seemed they hadn’t stopped since they were released from the hospital. Or, maybe it had started even before that. Before Whumper had taken them, or even further when they had first gone to file a restraining order. But they hadn’t expected them to flinch away from the curious question.

That was all the answer Caretaker needed. “You know, Whumper is dead. You don’t have to keep wearing their ring.”

“I can’t take it off.” Whumpee’s voice was small. They kept their head down as they stirred the pot of soup nearing boiling on the stove. 

Caretaker blamed the fumes from the onion Whumpee had chopped up earlier for the tears forming in their eyes. “You’re safe now, Whumpee. I know I can never make it up to you for not believing you sooner, but I swear I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. You can take off the ring.”

“It’s stuck. I can’t take it off.”

“Oh.” Caretaker’s hands stilled as they placed the last spoon on the table. “Would you like some help?”

“Yes, please.” 

Whumpee held very still as Caretaker approached and guided them to stand beside the sink. They didn’t shy away from Caretaker’s touch as the ring was slowly worked from their swollen finger but curled in on themselves and took three giant steps back the moment they were free. The mark left on the skin where the ring had sat dragged a whine from Whumpee’s throat. 

The inside of the ring had been engraved. Imprinted into Whumpee’s skin were four letters: 

M.

I.

N.

E.

Whumpee fell to their knees, holding the finger away from their body. “I’ll never be free.”

Caretaker wrapped a bandage from the kit under the sink around the possessive letters. Kissing Whumpee’s knuckles, Caretaker whispered, “You are free. Whumper is dead. I killed them. I swear on my life, no one will ever touch you again.”

#whump fic #whump #whump scenario #whumpee #whump writing #whump ideas #caretaker #whump tropes #oc #rescued #mentioned whumper #recovery whump #rings #stuck #possessive whumper

[inkyquince]

Thinking about being fwb with the older gen when they were younger.

cw. uhhhh. not much. implied rough sex, a mind break on eden's side, neglect of emotional stuff but some is implied, stalker-y obsessive harper, remy get the idea to start the underground farm from you and general friends with benefits stuff.

characters. bailey. eden. harper. briar. remy.

For Bailey, its a need to release stress, and you just happen to be the one person in the friendship group he could stand enough to not just spend extra time with, but spend it bending you over the back of his bed frame and railing you, all the while you can hear giggling from behind the door. He doesn't give a shit, he knows that the walls are thin in the orphanage, but this isn't for you. If you happen to cum, then, hey, it makes you tighten up around his cock and makes his own orgasm just a bit better. Don't think so much about how he offers you a smoke afterwards, when he refuses to even share his sacred, battered packet of ciggies with Eden. Don't start thinking he's soft. But maybe you should feel grateful that when you message for him to come over, he actually replies to you. Most of the others get ignored.

For Eden, it started out as pity. Probably the last of the group to loose his virginity, with Bailey snarking that he knows for a fact that Eden spends most of his time at night jerking his cock. He's just too intimidating for anyone at school to give him a chance, and the boys in the locker room have noticed how fucking fat his cock is anyway. There was a betting pool to see how long until he snapped. So what if it was pity. So what if his gaze thrilled you as you slowly took off your shirt in front of him, slowly unbuttoning as his grip on his knees tightened, his knuckles whitening. So what if by the time you tucked your thumbs into your underwear, his erection was straining against his jeans. It started as pity, for your friend to finally loose his v-card, and went on to Eden ripping at your clothes every time you two were alone, wrestling your body down onto his fat cock, bullying your hole, your friendship grated down into veiled attention around the others, and desperate rutting each second you two were alone.

It was obvious that Harper had wanted this for so long. Everyone could tell that the freak had such a crush on you. Always so attentive, popping up at your elbow, wanting to carry your books, saying you smelt nice that day, that he'll help tutor you, asking you if you want to go with him for ice cream after class. But you had to give credit where it's due, he was smart. Just one bad break up, and his selfless offerings of helping you feel better. That's all it took for him to take his rightful place between your thighs, getting to enjoy your needy riding, your kisses, the way you'd clench around his fingers when the dipped into your underwear during class. He encourages you to use him, use him, use him all you want, for stress relief, for any kinks you want to try. He likes it all, as long as he gets to touch you.

Briar just likes sex. He fucking loves it. In the future, he might tire of it, and just enjoy the delicacies of life paid for by bought sex, but not yet. You know you're just one of a rotation, but it feels different... At least to you. Sharing a group of friends, one night getting too drunk, and suddenly his tongue is dragging against your hole, being told you to squeal all you like, maybe someone from the party will hear you and come to see what's happening. Then Briar messaging you to come to him from then on. He likes watching you hump his cock, introducing you to the amass of sex toys he has, sharing a double ended dildo while he tortures your nipples with bites and harsh sucks. He makes no secret of his other conquests, people he also enjoys having sex with, but there's something about being the only one that can lean against him at a group hang out, his thumb rubbing small circles into your thigh, as the others argue on how to split the bill.

It starts with Remy just wanting it out of the way. Everything in his life is planned out meticulously, and once he hits 19, he quietly registers that most people his age are loosing their virginity, consenting or not. He will inherit the estate in his late twenties, he'll graduate from university early, and he'll make his mark on the town like his family has done for generations, with the riding school, with the investments. He'll find something that's uniquely him. But in the meantime, he'll hit the average amount of milestones that his peers do. You just happened to be the least objectionable to loose his virginity to. Between you and Wren, you're the one that'll be nice and submissive and let him enjoy himself however he likes, without some boneheaded suggestion of doing something stupid. So, he gets to take you to the estate, to fuck you on a bed more expensive than anything you could ever afford again. It's good. He likes it. But one day, in the fields with the others, overlooking some rinky dink farm with a family of red heads trying to make it nice, you do something. He's eating an apple, leaning against a tree, with you sitting by his feet with Wren's head in your lap, letting you braid his already too long hair. There's a crunch. He looks down and you cheekily took a bite out of the apple, smiling up at him. It itches his brain just right. He extends it to your mouth and watches as you laugh and take another bite. You become more of a pet from then on. Eating out of his hand, getting fucked in the ass, with a stirring fixation rousing in his stomach when he thinks back on how sweet you looked, eating his apple. Almost like one of the cows on the farm down below.

#i woke up POSSESSED by this idea #im supposed to be doing an assingment worth 20% of my final grade but i had to get this out #bailey the caretaker #eden the hunter #harper the doctor #briar the brothel owner #remy the farmer #dol #degrees of lewdity #nsft #quincewrites #shout out quiet for reading

[shshshquietnow]

I like whumpers that insist whumpee is always SOMEONES property, even if not theirs.

Obviously whumpers that say "you belong to me" or "you're mine now" are fun, whumpee being just an object or toy or pet or what have you, something to not feel sympathy for.

But also whumpers- post rescue- running into caretaker or catching whumpee again. A "how was your other owner" to whumpee, reminding them of their place even with someone safe like caretaker.

Or even to caretaker, after catching whumpee again, saying "you should really take better care of your things" or "keep your dog on a shorter leash", effectively weirding caretaker out and recontextualizing everything whumpee does. Did whumpee think they belonged to caretaker?! How is caretaker meant to dismantle that idea?!

I think even once whumpee is away from whumper for good, it really just throws everything out of whack. Which is nice.

#whump #whump community #possessive whumper #quiet whispering #whumpee #whumper #caretaker

[ccieatchildren]

A Dance, Darling?

TW: Noncon Kissing, Implied Kidnapping, Almost Panic Attack, Intimate Whumper, Forced Relationship

Whumpee brought their fingers up to rest on the rubies encircling their neck. It was not as extravagant as they had expected from him, but it was still hefty enough to feel each individual jewel press into their flesh, a constant reminder on their skin.

Leaving the necklace alone, disturbed by what it represented, their eyes travelled up to their face in the mirror. Their makeup was all red. Lipstick, eyeliner, eyeshadow, each a dark shade that could only be accomplished by Whumper mixing some of their own blood into the cosmetics. They shuddered at the memory of the experience.

Whumpee groaned as he made another cut on their back, pressing the clear vial under the opening. The blood prickled their skin as it made its path down into the small jar.

Whumper brushed his lips against their neck, “we have to make sure you look your best.” He pressed on each side of the wound, drawing out more of the scarlet substance. The flow of red now rushed into the container. 

They sobbed, while Whumper watched in fascination.

Underneath the bandages, their spine pulsated at the memory, and they could feel the beginning barbs of phantom pain. Whumpee shook their head, freeing themself from the thought. 

Moving along, their gaze moved further up to their hair. Whumper had asked– told– them to put the small red jewel feathers he gave them in between the locks. In any other situation, Whumpee quite enjoyed the look of them in their hair, it was as if their hair was a flower sporting red leaves, but here, their image was immediately soured by who gave them to them.

They frowned. Another chain.

Their hands moved down to follow the curve of their dress. It was a deep crimson, matching their makeup and jewellery, and flowed down to their ankles. A hole was cut out at their chest, causing Whumpee to scrunch up their nose in distaste. It was shoulderless with a high slit on their right side, showing off their leg and the scars that adorned it. 

Whumpee hated it.

They were not very used to wearing dresses in the first place. They would thought it beautiful on someone else, but it felt foreign on their own skin. It complemented their figure too well, emphasizing their chest, hips, and waist in a way that made them feel like a piece of meat on display. The slit showed much more skin than they were comfortable with and Whumpee was paranoid that they would accidentally flash someone. They kept tugging the fabric down, but there was nothing more for it to do. Whumper’s intent with the dress was clear. Flaunt the prized lamb he bought in the auction. 

However, they would prefer the objectification over the reason he actually chose this dress for them. 

Easier access.

It made them nauseous. Their fingers itched to rip and tear the dress off themself. Strip themself of the shame and fear.

Whumpee slammed their hands onto the sink, pulling their attention away from their apprehension and resentment. In, out. In, out. In… Out… Drawing in each breath worked to ease their misgivings. A technique Whumpee relied heavily on throughout their time here. Inhaling fresh air, exhaling all theirworries. 

A few seconds and Whumpee was back to their original state. 

Not normal, not calm. But manageable. Never fully calm again.

Their eyes drooped down to the final piece tying their ensemble together, the gold band that encircled their left ring finger. Part of them enjoyed covering up the scar from his teeth, hiding how they were now permanently tied to him. The other part of them knew this was just a fancier shackle. A more obvious cuff for the public eye.

They fiddled with the ring, twisting it back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. God, they just wanted to throw it out the window and watch as it got lost to the city forever. 

They slowly pulled the bond up their finger, only thoughts of release and escape bouncing around their head.

“Do you like it?” 

Whumpee whipped their head around to see Whumper standing in the doorway. They shoved the ring back down.

He had pushed his hair back for once, the fluffy black locks smothered under a layer of gel. His suit was black, as was his tie, which were accompanied by a red vest and button up, matching their dress perfectly. He still wore the same three earrings, now pairing with their own red drops. Whumper had taken off his glasses, presumably switching them for contacts, emphasizing his dark lashes and ruby eyes.

He looked them up and down, unabashedly ogling, before finally settling on their face. “You look absolutely gorgeous, dear. Red looks nice on you.” 

“I prefer blue.”

Whumper’s lips twitched. “Are you ready? Best not to be late.” He swiftly turned around, ignoring the obvious last ditch attempt to rile him up, grabbing his keys and heading to the door. Whumpee trailed behind, already dreading the party.

————

The bright lights of the venue were the first thing to assault Whumpee’s eyes. They stepped out of the vehicle, admiring the show of excessive wealth, jumping at the slam behind them. Whumper tittered at their reaction; he had closed the car door behind them, chivalrous, as always.

Whumpee turned to glare at him, unamused. He initially looked surprised at their outward frustration toward him, before smiling once again.

Whumper offered them his elbow, red eyes boring into them, and Whumpee was quick to accept the proposal. “Off we go, my love.” Handing the keys off to the valet, he walked into the large building, practically dragging Whumpee with him.

It was an open ballroom, filled with people mingling, the low hum of talking almost overpowering the small orchestra playing music in the corner. It was decorated with an abundance of gold and white, adding to the affluent and lavish vibe. The middle of the room was open for couples who wanted to dance, the sides filled with tables holding various hors d'oeuvres and desserts. At the very end was a stage covered in balloons and banners, where the host would most likely give their toast.

Whumpee cringed at the overwhelming amount of people in the room. They had never been that much of a fan of parties, but now, their usual anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold. Their skin itched as if everyone was staring at them, checking them out, assessing their worth, finding their weaknesses. It reminded them of the tense stillness before a fight, not a party. The wounds across their back and stomach throbbed, their ever present pain intensifying, and making Whumpee even more self conscious. 

What if they could see them? What would they do then? Would they help them or find it amusing? What would Whumper do? 

This was too much. They couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend everything was fine. They needed to get out of here.

Panic crawled up their spine, and Whumpee slightly pulled away from Whumper, hoping to escape. But his grip was firm, and they were stuck pressed into him. Whumper’s body shook with light laughter at their alarm, peering down at them. Upon seeing their expression, however, he twitched.

Whumper pulled them even closer to him, “want to go back home, darling?” His eyes were softer than usual and his face contorted into a small frown, “do all the people frighten you?”

Whumpee nodded vigorously, pressing themself closer to him, trying to appeal to his affection for them.

Whumper placed his free hand on their cheek, and Whumpee nuzzled further into him. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” He seemed to think for a few seconds, watching them carefully, before his lips widened into a sharp smile. “As much as I would love to go back home with you,” he mockingly placed a hand over his chest, “and it truly does make me elated that you consider me your home now,” Whumpee flinched, recognizing their mistake, trying to draw back away from him, “but,” he wouldn’t let them go, “we prettied you for this. We can’t go before you meet everyone and indulge in the festivities. Can’t have it all go to waste, now can we?” He tutted at them.

Whumper continued to stare at them before they realized he wanted an answer. Whumpee slowly shook their head, accepting defeat, slumping down into themself.

Whumper patted their cheek before pulling back. “Kaip geras. Now let’s go, I already see someone I want to introduce you to.”

He pulled them along further into the room, and Whumpee took a deep breath, hoping, but failing, to prepare themself for the night to come.

————

The next hour or so was filled with Whumpee standing docilely next to Whumper, a smile plastered on their face while he spoke to everyone who came to greet him. 

It was the same thing over and over again. A name they wouldn’t remember, faces that blurred together, shallow compliments about their outfit, and, the worst of all, congratulations to the happy couple. 

Whumper keened at all the flattery, especially those of their dress and jewelry, making sure to pipe in that he was the one that purchased them for them, and, as they were expected to follow along, Whumpee thanked him for the “generous” gift from a loving fiancé. He always managed to squeeze in a kiss for the presents, tilting their head up and drawing Whumpee in whenever they expressed their gratitude. This only delighted the other guests, amused at the young couple’s public show of affection.

It was torture. 

Now Whumpee, thankfully, had finally gotten a small break from Whumper flaunting them off, standing on the sidelines and trying to drown their worries into a small flute of champagne. 

Never too far, Whumper was in the corner conversing with what they could only assume to be potential buyers, and, though he wasn’t facing them, Whumpee could still feel the ever present weight of his eyes watching them, making sure they didn’t run. As unnerving as it was, Whumpee preferred it over his stifling presence bearing down next to them. 

The hero scanned the room as their mind drifted. They could try to get help from the other people here, but Whumpee didn’t foresee much success through those routes. They recognized half the guests from files back in their old office, and those who weren’t publicly villains were most likely not much better either. 

However, even if they weren’t in the same circles as Whumper, what could Whumpee say that would convince them of their situation. Their last stunt as a hero left them humiliated and discredited; they looked crazy to the public eye. Someone who had lost their way and needed the guidance of some pristine charitable schmuck who graciously sacrificed themselves to help them. In the end, it would be their words against his, and no one would believe them. 

And on the small, small chance they did… Whumpee shivered at what Whumper would do to keep them with him, how he would take revenge for their defiance. They knew it wouldn’t just stop at them, and, as much as they despised it, the hero in them couldn’t let that happen.

As always, he had the upper hand. 

They were taken out of their musings by a gloved hand appearing in their line of sight, too deep in thought to notice Whumper had finished his conversation.

“Join me for a dance, mylimasis?” An award winning smile was plastered on his face, amusement obvious as he played the part of a perfect gentleman. Whumpee grimaced at the irony. 

Seeing no way out of it, Whumpee cautiously placed their hand in his, their trepidation bringing a small chuckle out of the man. Whumper gently brought them to the dance floor, joined by other couples who wished to sway with their partners. Whumpee brought their arms around his neck as he encircled their waist, skin crawling where he touched them. 

Whumper rocked them side to side at a slow pace, calming just by watching them. Whumpee scrutinized him, trying to understand his game; it wasn’t like him to do something so simple without an ulterior motive. 

His fingers started to tap along their waist, following the beat of the music in the background, while he continued to watch them. Whumpee stared back with the same intensity, struggling to smooth their face so they weren’t outright glaring at him. He seemed rather startled at their ‘sudden’ annoyance, eyes widening, before he sheepishly smiled at them. Their face must have slackened in confusion as he relaxed as well, returning to watching them. They continued like that, swaying in the crowd and looking at each other, for a small while. 

Finally, a blush spread across his cheeks, and Whumper quickly turned away. 

He’s like an embarrassed teen. 

They huffed slightly in disbelief, causing Whumper to turn back around at the sound. Realizing the awkwardness, he cleared his throat before asking. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Yes.”

He perked up. “Really?”

Whumpee sent him a dry look. Whumper visibly wilted and they scoffed, looking away. Seriously, again?

Letting their anger and frustration get the best of them wasn’t the smartest move, they knew that, but their proximity was putting Whumpee on edge, making them more irritable than usual. 

“You are going to have to get used to this,” Whumper said, breaking the silence. Whumpee turned back, shocked by his now blank face. “I���m tolerating your disrespect because we’re in public, and I recognize this is your first time being away from home in a long time. It makes you nervous, I understand that. But,” his fingers dug into their waist and Whumpee had to suppress a gasp, “when we’re officially wed, you’ll have to join me to these outings frequently as my wife.” He leaned down so their eyes were level, “I will not indulge this pitiful defiance of yours, then.” Whumper straightened back out, looking down at them, always able to make them feel small with just a glance. “So, I recommend you start familiarizing yourself with the appropriate behavior now.”

Fuck.

Whumpee gulped. They had screwed themself over.

Head bowed, Whumpee accepted defeat. It always ended like this, with Whumpee on their knees before Whumper, metaphorically or literally. They had no response other than to let themself be pulled every which way by Whumper.

Now pressed up against his chest, Whumper and Whumpee swayed as more and more partners made their way to the dance floor.

Leaning down once more, Whumper supplied their companion with more information. “Get ready, brangusis, it’s about to get fun.”

Noticing the crowd of couples, the small orchestra shifted into waltz, and everyone moved in sync. 

Whumper brought their clasped hands up and moved his other to their hip, brushing over an old wound. Whumpee harshly sucked in a breath before placing their hand on his shoulder. He commenced the dance, and Whumpee tried their best to keep up.

Step, slide, step, turn. 

Whumpee hyper focussed on their feet, trying to match his movements. They didn’t have much experience with ballroom dancing, having only taken a few classes as a joke with Bestie, and the one time Caretaker tried to teach them, though it hadn’t ended very well. Whumpee smiled at the memory: them and Caretaker a mess of limbs on the floor as Whumpee had slipped and doomed them both to a few more bruises across their body. They had been so out of breath from laughing when they couldn’t untangle themselves from each other. It had been a spur of the moment idea, some stupid thing meant to bring them closer together. It worked.

“Something funny?” 

Whumpee broke out of their reverie, not even realizing they had zoned out. Whumper’s mouth was a hard line, displeasure at not being the center of their attention apparent. 

It irked them how needy he always was. Kidnapping, experimenting, torturing, and assaulting them wasn’t enough?

They mumbled a quiet apology, peeking up at him through their lashes. It worked and Whumper eased with a blush. 

The musicians kept a steady adagio tempo, giving any more couples who wanted to join an extra moment. Whumpee slowly acclimated to the rhythm, matching Whumper’s moments not long after. 

“You were always a quick learner,” he laughed. Whumpee grimaced. 

As they danced, he squeezed and kneaded along their side, curious of their reactions. His fingers pressed into an old bruise and Whumpee staggered. He kept them balanced, yet began a game of finding where else he could push to get a pained response.

They tried to pull away from the pokes and prods, tottering with each failed attempt. They whined when he reached a fresh stitched gash. Whumpee could feel the meager string split under his pressure, spilling blood that wouldn’t be noticed under the crimson of their dress. 

Whumpee startled when their dance faltered for a moment, for once not because of them. They peered up at Whumper, surprised to find dilated eyes trained on their throat. 

“Don’t do that.” He ground out. 

Ah.

Whumpee was more than happy to obey. That train of thought would lead nowhere good for them. 

Screaming in pain would also most likely not bode well with the other guests. Whumpee sighed, nodding and gritting their teeth through his subtle exploration. Their head throbbed. 

The music picked up, pushing them to move even faster. Whumpee already felt dizzy from the quick paced movement, and Whumper’s tight hold over their still healing cuts was not helping. “Smile, love. People are watching.” He purred.

Heeding his warning, Whumpee stretched their mouth into some semblance of a smile, lips twitching from the strain, and kept dancing. Whumper relaxed his grip slightly, pleased with their obedience. 

Step, slide, step, turn.

Just as they were getting used to pushing the pain down to the rhythm, Whumper let go of their waist, spinning them. Whumpee stumbled, but he kept them moving, pulling them back in after they completed a turn. He seamlessly continued their dance, not giving Whumpee a break to get their bearings, delighting in their increasing disorientation. 

Step, slide, step, turn.

He continued to spin Whumpee every few steps, quietly laughing at their mounting nausea. However, each time their expression began to display their discomfort, Whumper would lean down to mutter a reminder of what would happen if they didn’t keep up the facade. His own twisted form of encouragement. 

“I don’t like to share, sweetheart. Those expressions are only for me.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Many guests are watching us love, don’t disappoint them with your sour countenance. I don’t want them gossiping about how I have an unruly wife.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“You look marvellous when you spin. My pretty little thing. Keep going.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Your dress makes me want to add more red. How about the blood of everyone here, ęh? Do we want to see?”

Step, slide, step, turn.

“Don’t fall. I’ll get jealous. And we will have to fix that by adding bruises of my own.”

Step, slide, step, turn.

Vomit slithered up their throat. Their eyes burned with the effort to keep it down, despite the writhing of their stomach and the taste of maggots in their mouth.

A particularly fast whirl caused Whumpee to lose their footing, almost bringing them both to the floor. Whumper was quick enough to avoid disaster, but it put them out of sync with the music for several beats. 

“Watch it, Whumpee. You will not ruin this for me.” He said harshly. “Keep slipping and I’ll snip your legs.”

The again didn’t need to be said. 

But, Whumpee was trying their best, except every movement only exacerbated their aches and exhaustion. Their breathing became laboured and their limbs felt heavy, their beaten body unable to keep up with the overexertion. 

They wanted to tap out now. 

Whumpee tried to pull away, releasing his shoulder and stepping out of his grasp, only for his grip on their other hand to constrict. Whumper drew them back in, gracefully spinning them as he did so, and pulling them up against his chest in a flourish. They gasped as he once again agitated their wounds.

“Where are you going zuikutis? We’re not done yet.” He pinned them even closer to him, leaning down to whisper in their ear. “I can hear your heart hammering. Does our dancing make you that excited?” Whumpee tried to pull away, but their efforts were fruitless. Their body was drained and Whumper was holding them too tight. 

They were about to slump against him, give in and let Whumper sway them on the floor, accept whatever punishment he saw fit, but before they could fully relax, he pulled back, placing their arms once again in the position for a waltz. His expression was harsh, “I said we weren’t done yet, mielasis.” Whumpee flinched, eyes shifting to the people outside the dance floor, but he started to move them once more.

Whirling and pulling. Twisting and pulling. Spinning and pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling.

They can’t keep up.

The music seemed to intensify with their panic. Whumpee could hear their pulse pounding in their ears. The sound of their harsh breathing contrasted with Whumper’s controlled ones. The voices at the edge of the room grew. Tapping of shoes on the pristine floor echoed in their head.

Each sound pushed against their skull, battling one another for space in their mind. Whumpee began to wobble more, unsteady feet tripping their partner. Hands clawing at whatever they held. Chest tightening. Vision blurring. Throat closing. Tired. Hot. Dizzy. 

Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. LET GO-

“Breathe, it’s over.”

A hand rubbed soothing circles along their back. Whumpee blinked rapidly, vision and mind slightly clearing. They found themself leaned down, hovering over the floor.

The song had finished. Whumper had dipped them. 

The crowd around them released small whoops and cheers for all the dancers, surrounding the couple with the sharp clap of applause. Whumpee tensed. Whumper hurried to calm them.

“Ramiai, ramiai vargšas.” He slowly pulled them back to their feet. “I see I got carried away. This was too much for you.” Whumper told them softly. “We’ll work on it.”

Whumpee couldn’t process what he was saying, too busy trying to return to the world around them. They were pliant as he led them off the dance floor.

They spent the next few minutes leaning into Whumper as they calmed themself down. If they could think clearly, Whumpee would have pulled away from him long ago, but they simply did not have the mental capacity for hatred or fear right now.

After they reached a more coherent state, he spoke. “I’m going out for a smoke.” Whumpee was still breathless from their dancing, barely able to catch up to what he was telling them. “You don’t have to join me, I know how much you hate it. But,” Whumpee suddenly grabbed their arm, throwing them off balance once more.

“Stay here.” They didn’t think they could anywhere if they wanted to, they were too light headed from dancing. That was probably the point. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes.” 

Whumper examined them a final time, before nodding to himself. He steered Whumpee to a corner, despite their, almost drunken, stumbling. Then, they were on their own. 

They felt the need to cry, the tears pressing against the back of their eyes, but they- they just- it wasn’t working. They couldn’t. Not here. They just needed to focus on their breathing. 

They leaned against the wall, thankful for its cool surface, hoping to steady themself. 

In… Out… 

In… Out…

In… Out… 

Rhythmic breathing slowed their racing heart. Air stopping its fight in their lungs. Muscles no longer protesting as loudly. Whumpee’s body finally calmed from the stress of his waltz. 

They took a few more moments to themself, forehead pressed firmly against the plaster. Just breathing. Mind emptying. Preparing for a few more hours of struggle.

They could do this. 

“Whumpee.” A hand landed on their shoulder, warm and familiar. They jolted, spinning around. They froze once their gaze landed on Caretaker.

Her dress, a fitted corset around her middle that flowed out into a long skirt, was a striking cerulean color that complimented her eyes. There was a large collar that covered from her neck to her shoulder, decorated with sapphires, holding a sheer cape that flowed down to trail behind her. Her makeup used only various shades of blue, highlighting her dark skin. 

They felt their eyes water faintly at the sight of such a familiar face. It had been too long.

“C-Caretaker!” Whumpee cringed at their own voice, simultaneously too rough and too bright. “Wh-what a surprise. It’s been a while.” Whumpee tried to keep their cool. They couldn’t drag her into this, they wouldn’t, no matter how much they might want to.

A whirlwind of emotions flashed through Caretaker’s eyes, too quick for Whumpee to tell what she was feeling, before hardening, anger and determination shining through. “Where were you! I- We kept looking for weeks.” Her gaze saddened slightly, “I- I thought something had happened to you. When you didn’t answer after you went in… I was worried, and then the incident-”

“Well!” Whumpee clapped their hands together, effectively cutting off the woman. “As you can see I’m fine. Didn’t they tell you where I was? My comm broke, nothin’ serious.” They told her carefully. “And, you know I had that vacation lined up,” their lips stretched into a shaky smile. “That’s all. Nothing to get so worked up about!” They laughed. Whumpee hoped their expression was convincing enough.

“But-”

Whumpee sighed. “Look, I know I never reached out-”

“What- Never reached out! I sent you so many messages, you missed all my calls.” That was because Whumper had taken their phone. “You never miss my calls.” Whumpee stiffened. That was very true. They made sure to never miss a call from her again. “Then one day you just told me to stop contacting you completely!” They hadn’t known about that, though Whumpee wasn’t very surprised. 

Caretaker averted her gaze. “D-did I do something wrong? I would’ve left you alone if you had just told me what really happened.” She grabbed Whumpee’s hands. “I just- I-…” The woman paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’re someone I care deeply about, I thought we were close. I-I needed to make sure you were okay… I’m sorry.” Her body slumped, the rage and conviction seeping out, dropping Whumpee’s hands. All that was left was a tired, worried friend.

As they watched their partner deflate, Whumpee realized something. Here she was, one of the few people willing to look for them, and all Whumpee could do was brush them off. As much as they hated it, however, they were firm in their belief; they would not rope Caretaker into this. It was not safe. They had faith in her ability as a hero, but Whumpee had seen, had experienced, what Whumper could do first hand, and they would not take the risk. They would never forgive themself if something happened to her.

But they would not leave Caretaker with nothing either. 

Whumpee bent down, hoping to console their companion. “No, Caretaker, I-”

“You never introduced me to your lovely acquaintance here, dear.” Whumpee bolted back up, putting as much distance between the two of them as they could. The man now next to them, leaned down, extending a hand to Caretaker while the other wrapped around their waist. “Whumper. Whumpee’s fiance .”

Caretaker’s eyes widened in shock, recognition flashing, before she smoothed her expression out into a smile. “I see! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Caretaker, Whumpee’s friend, their partner.” She took his hand, squeezing tightly. They silently stared off at each other, before Whumper drew his hand back and straightened. “Y’know, Whumpee never mentioned they were dating anyone.” The accusation was clear in her tone.

Whumper’s fingers twitched. “Well, we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. Taking the time to tell everyone would be a hassle if we weren’t sure. And you know how annoying those pesky reporters can be.” The arm around their hips tightened slightly, a warning. “Right, Whumpee?”

Whumpee straightened, trying to school their face into that of a happily engaged person. “Y-Yes- yes, of course. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. A-as you can see,” they waved in his direction, “this was also part of why I took that time off.”

Don’t ask more. Do not ask more. Please.

“Huh… Then, when you set the wedding date do tell me Whumpee. I would love to come.” 

Whumper twitched again, his eyes darkening. “When we do, I’ll be sure you are the first one to know.” He shifted, turning slightly, planning to drag Whumpee off with him. “Now, there are-”

“Oh!” She grabbed Whumpee’s arm to stop them. Whumper glared at the offending limb, and Whumpee could practically see the violence run through his brain. “One more thing,” Caretaker’s smile became strained and her eyes narrowed. “Whumpee, when do you plan on getting back to work? I know you said you were taking a vacation, a very important one at that, but all vacations end, right? You’re very important to the agency, and the boss is starting to get worried. You’ll have to come back soon, you know how they get-” 

Whumper cut in, pulling them out of her grasp, not giving Whumpee a chance to speak, composure slipping. “No.” He glared down at Caretaker, who stiffened and glared back in response, fists at her sides. Whumper cleared his throat. “Now if you’ll excuse us, there are more introductions Whumpee and I must make. Come along, darling.” 

Whumper bent down, cupping Whumpee’s face and smashing their lips together. Instinctively, their hands went up to rest on his chest, neither pushing away nor pulling closer. The acrid tang of smoke invaded their nostrils and the sour taste of tobacco stuck to their tongue. Their eyes scrunched close, they didn’t want to do this in front of Caretaker. Whumper felt their resistance, tightening his arm painfully until they finally kissed back, instead wrapping their arms around his neck. 

Just sell it.

Whumpee felt Whumper instantly soften at their touch, as always, relaxing into the kiss. He kept them there together for another few seconds before they broke for air. 

When they turned to look at Caretaker, her face was filled with horror. Her arms were limp at her sides and she gawked at them with dread. Whumper smirked, a cat who got his cream, before turning and taking Whumpee along with him, the arm around their middle again a vice. 

While they walked away, Whumpee turned their head one last time to look at Caretaker, silently pleading that she didn’t pry even further. Caretaker nodded, hands once again fists, with determination in her eyes. 

Whumpee didn’t think that Caretaker understood what they were asking her to do. 

This wouldn’t end well.

#my writing #W #☡ #whump #whumblr #whump writing #ballroom whump #defiant whumpee #conditioned whumpee #obsessive whumper #intimate whumper #possessive whumper #creepy whumper #whumper x whumpee #worried caretaker #protective caretaker #hero #villain #villain x hero #i started this april 25 2023 #its literally been a year #how #granted i wrote this very off and on #yall can probably tell what was written earlier and later #but i saw ballroom whump and got obsessed and this came to be #and necklaces representing collars but thats not rlly here #also all the lithuanian terms are the masc version bcs masc also encompasses they/them (i think) #enjoy my terrible explanations of clothing :3 #also whumpee wears a dress (not their choice) #take that as you will

[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]

Can we pretty please get a part 3 to the abandoned whumpee story pleeeeease????

(Only if you want to though!!)

Yes yes you may ^^ Edit: I had no idea how much fun it is letting personalities of a cocky whumper and whumpee clash

[Previous] - [Masterlist] - [Next]

CW: Defiant whumpee, taken captive, whumper having to caretake, abandoned whumpee, manhandled, blood loss

Whumper held both of whumpee's arms trying to wrangle them still. They fought hard as whumper could barely keep them in their arms.

"Let go of me!" Whumpee shouted. Whumper motioned for their team as two grabbed whumpee and pried them apart.

"Be gentle with them; we're keeping this one alive." Whumper huffed, fixing their jacket.

"This is all that's left?" One of the team members asked.

"No, most of them got away. This is what was sacrificed." Whumper cupped whumpee's chin and tilted their head up.

"You're not understanding it was willingly." Whumpee retorted back.

"Willing or no, it looks like your team didn't feel you were worth fighting for." Whumper spoke lightly, thumbing their cheek. Whumpee winced and twisted their face out of whumper's hand. "Regardless, we're taking them back with us." Whumper announced.

The team all groaned in unison.

"Whhhyy, let's just kill them and get it over with! What if they run?" Someone argued.

"Then make sure they don't! Killing them now would be a waste, wouldn't it?" They turned around and gave whumpee a smile.

"How's that going to work for you?" Whumpee spat, squirming in the guards hold.

"You have information; intel I would love to have my hands on." Whumper's eyes trailed down and they noticed blood starting to soak through whumpee's clothing.

"And you think because they, -Oh what was it you said-... Abandoned me, that I would give them up? That I'll roll over and join you?" Whumpee retorted. "That won't happen. It'll never happe-

"Stop. Shh sh sh sh, stop arguing with me, you're making yourself bleed out. Easy now." Whumper folded a cloth and pressed it against the blood as whumpee gasped in shock.

"We've stalled enough. Let's get you home before you bleed to death. And whumpee dear," Whumper tethered the bandage to their side and gripped their shoulder.

"I would never abandon you. Unlike someone we all know..." They fluttered their fingers.

"I'd actually rather you would." Whumpee cocked their head to the side. 

"No you rather wouldn't." Whumper's eyes flicked up. "You're stranded far from help, I presume your team -that left you behind- also took the transportation you came in on, so you would wander around until you start suffering from blood loss until you crawled around in vain. Then, you get to be the sacrifice you always wanted to be."

Whumper bent on their knees to whumpee's level with a smug smile waiting for their bite back. 

Whumpee's face was blank. They didn't have one. 

"Mmm.  .... That's what I thought. Now, let's go home, shall we?" 

[Previous] - [Masterlist] - [Next]

#I really didn't think I would continue this any further #but #BUT #Their dynamic is so much fun #whump #whumpee #whumper #captive whump #caring whumper #abandoned whumpee #team whump #whumper turned caretaker #blood loss whump #defiant whumpee #soft whumper #controlling whumper #possessive whumper #Whump writing #whump drabble #captive whumpee

[abhainnwhump]

Mind Control

(Content warnings: Necromancy, possession, demonic rituals, humiliation, major character death)

Whumper attaches a chip to the back of Whumpee's neck that gives them control of their nervous system.

Whumper only controls Whumpee's voice. No matter how hard they try, Whumpee can't say anything about them. Whumper forces them to lie to the cops and Caretaker. - Bonus if they have to say bad things about Caretaker and/or themselves instead.

Seeing through Whumpee's eyes, learning every secret about them.

Whumper controls Caretaker, but only occasionally and without a pattern. They black out when this happens, so one minute they can be cuddling them and the next they find Whumpee curled into a ball and covered in bruises.

Caretaker begs for Whumpee to stop hurting them, but they can't. The only thing they can control is their tears, which only increase as they stare at their friend's fresh corpse.

That moment where Whumpee falls to their knees and screams into the sky, clutching their head as they try to get Whumper out of it.

Eye color flickering eye color flickering eye color flickering-

Voice echoing voice echoing voice echoing-

Caretaker and Whumpee's other friends are suspicious. Whumpee is off in little ways. The way they sit, the way they smile and rest their face, it's all eerily similar to Whumper.

Whumper was killed when Whumpee was rescued. They come back from the dead as a ghost and possess someone for revenge.

Whumper performs a complicated ritual with a kidnapped tied-up Whumpee to bring their friend/lover back from the dead. Whumpee becomes the host.

#whump #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #whump tropes #conditioned whumpee #major character death #mind control #mind control whump #caretaker turned whumpee #ghost whumper #nonhuman whumper #possession whump #brainwashed whumpee #whump prompt list

[whumpywizard]

Sneaky bastard caretaker?

• A Caretaker that always accessorizes Whumpee in some sort of regalia/token representative of Caretaker. That way, everyone knows Whumpee is under Caretaker's wing.

• A Caretaker that takes Whumpee on as a personal assistant/henchman/subordinate so they can be together constantly. Whumpee is never out of arms reach if Caretaker has anything to say about it.

• A Caretaker that everyone is afraid of + a Whumpee that is frightened of most people except Caretaker.

• A Caretaker that knows Whumpee has trauma with medicine/medical aid so they're crushing pills and medicating food when Whumpee isn't looking.

• A Caretaker that intercepts any attempts of communication from Whumper (ex. letters/calls/packages) before they reach Whumpee.

• A Caretaker that's already "taken care" (lol) of Whumper and is just waiting for the right time to tell Whumpee.

• "Hey [Whumpee], wouldn't it be crazy if we just moved off the grid where nobody could bother us and we could be safest? Without telling anybody? Just me? Haha." (They already have non-RT tickets booked).

BONUS: Whumpee knows and either appreciates the effort or hates it.

#mine #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whumpblr #possessive caretaker #protective caretaker #bad caretaker #writing prompt #whump prompt

[diamond-flavored-whump]

"Caretaker, they're catatonic, they have no idea you're there. They won't know if you put them down-"

"No!" Caretaker held Whumpee tighter. "I just got them back, I'm not letting go."

#whumpblr #whump #writing prompt #whump scenario #whump community #whump prompt #your whump words of the day #possessive caretaker #protective caretaker #caretaker #unconcious

[suspensefulpen]

Animal

TW: Choking, Bad Caretaker, Defiant Whumpee, Possessive Whumper

Whumper sighed as he stared down at the stack of papers in front of him. He was tired of looking at paperwork, he really wanted to take a break. No, a vacation.

Caretaker walked into the room and placed a fresh cup of coffee on his desk. Whumper paused when he noticed a scratch peeking out from under their sleeve. His hand instantly grasped their wrist, making them flinch. He frowned slightly and looked up at the nervous expression on their face. His thumb brushed over the scratch.

“What is this?”

“What? I–I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Caretaker forced a smile that Whumper could see right through.

His grip tightened as he rolled up their sleeve, much to their dismay. What Whumper originally thought to be a small scratch, turned out to be one among many large ones. Very few seemed to be healed. “Where did these come from?”

“Where…did what come from?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Caretaker! Where the hell did these come from?”

They went silent, their gaze shifting elsewhere before landing on something to their right. Whumper followed their gaze to the monitor that displayed live footage of the crouching figure in the corner of an unfinished room. Whumper stood, pulling Caretaker towards him before forcing them into the desk chair. They instantly attempted protesting as he turned to leave. He turned back, lowering his voice and leaning close.

“You don’t move from this chair, understand?”

Knowing what Whumper would be willing to do to show them, they nodded slowly. “Yes sir…”

~~

Whumpee didn’t budge when he heard the clicking sounds on the other side of the door. It was probably just Caretaker again with food. He pondered scaring them again to make them go away. The food wasn’t all that great anyway.

When all of the locks were unlocked, the heavy door swung open, hitting against the wall with an ear splitting slam.

Confused, Whumpee sat up, instead finding an angry Whumper marching into the room. However, before he could move another inch, his back was forced against the wall with Whumper’s hand around his throat. He attempted prying the hand off as he desperately gasped for oxygen.

“You got some nerve Whumpee.” Whumper spoke sternly. “Thinking you can just get away with hurting my precious Caretaker.”

“Your precious Caretaker?” Whumpee wheezed. “They seem more like a servant to you.”

“I’ll make you their servant if you ever have the nerve to hurt them again.” His grip tightened. “I shouldn’t even allow you the luxury of getting food in the first place. You don’t deserve it.” Just as Whumpee’s eyes began rolling back and fluttering, his grip loosened. “Since you want to act like an animal, I’ll make sure you get treated like one.”

#creative writing #writeblr #writer things #writers on tumblr #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #suspense #tw choking #bad caretaker #defiant whumpee #possessive whumper #kind of #caretaker x whumper #if you want

[shshshquietnow]

Something I definetly think is interesting is WINNING whumpees. In a game of poker or a game of chance or a bet or contest or something...

Of course in a game of whumpers vs. whumpers no one really CARES how whumpee is feeling, how tense it is, watching everyone and hoping they don't get certain people, trying to figure out who holds the pity or sympathy in their eyes, not sure WHO will win them but knowing whoever gets them will probably be terrible in their own way. Perhaps this is at a showy party and they're acting like another decoration, and maybe they get won earlier in the night, spending the party with their new owner.

But then there's also whumpers vs. caretaker/team. Whumper already has whumpee, so let's spice things up! Caretaker or team has to watch whumpee cringe and the color drain from their face every time whumper gets a point, having to sit there and play fair as whumper dangles whumpee in front of them... caretaker and/or team getting being mortified at the prospect of WINNING whumpee like they're some object, but having to use that language do whumper will let them play for a chance for them back at all.

And whumpee can't di a thing in either situation. In games of chance they're obviously helpless, but even in games of skill THEYRE not even the ones competing. Their fate is up to whoever is the best at a certain thing, who plays better cards in a game of poker, who calculates better in chess, or what have you.

Pet whumpees work very well for this, but I think tiny whumpees do too. Placing them on the table with all the poker chips, keeping them in a box by the other prizes, passing them around as different players take the lead... lots of potential.

#whump #quiet whispering #whumper #whumpee #whump community #caretaker #possessive whumper #team whump #pet whump #tiny whumpee

[impossibledial]

i’m so intrigued by dannyclara despite not shipping them. i think that relationship is an interesting addition to clara’s character arc and i’m still trying to to figure out it’s purpose.

#read tags #doctor who #doctor who meta #clara oswald #clara oswald meta #danny pink #twelfth doctor #discussion #tagging pinkswald but let it be known i don’t ship them. #i think they were cute for what they were though. #it’s hard for me to view their relationship without being blinded by twelveclara but i’m trying. #my reason for not shipping them is due to clara’s treatment of him which i feel people don’t bring up often enough. #the only thing danny ever asked of clara was to stop lying. #twelveclaras tend to act as if he was possessive or territorial or demanding but he wasn’t. #he wasn’t insanely jealous in the caretaker. twelve was. he just wanted to know what was going on. #even in motoe he checked in to ask clara if she’s really sure she wants to stop travelling. she had no need to lie. #in the flatline script he says ‘if you’re back with the doctor it’s okay. you don’t have to lie to me.’ #yet time and time again clara does. #clara may have loved danny but there was no trust. #she continually broke his trust. she never felt like she could confide him. #despite this i still view clara as a fundamentally selfless character. #i now think this is why she was willing to die to be with him dark water. she felt that was the least she could to make up for her lies. #i hesitate referring to it as a punishment because being with danny could never be that for her but i do think it was because of guilt. #it’s that lack of trust that makes her hang up in a sense.