Sometimes Angels Touch Pure Evil

Whump blog intro (cause I didn’t make one before)

About me:

♡ @sugarsweetwriter is just what I go by on here but if you want something to refer to me by then “Angel” is good, since I wanna keep this account separate from my other socials

♡ Any pronouns, preferably she/they

♡ Minor

♡ I’m a huge Lana Del Rey stan, but that doesn’t come up here

Whump faves:

♡ Touch starved whumpee

♡ Traumatised whumpee/ptsd/cptsd

♡ Conditioned whumpee

♡ Rescued/recovery whump

I don’t/wont write:

♡ Nsfwhump (I’m a minor soooo)

Other stuff:

♡ Currently the only tags for navigating through my blog are #mywriting which I use for my drabbles, concepts, dynamics, etc, and #request, which I use for, yes, requests!

Whumpee taking ahold of Caretakers hand and leading it to their head, practically petting themselves with it—something they’ve never done before.

Caretaker who gently plays with Whumpees hair and whispers softly when they have something to say, so happy that Whumpees finally settling in and feeling safe enough to initiate contact.

Whumpee who, over time, becomes increasingly clingy and attached, always at Caretakers side, burrowing their face into their neck to escape the outside world. Always cuddling up to them and crying in their arms at night.

Whumpee who, eventually, becomes what professionals consider “too attached” to Caretaker and now panics when they’re gone, as opposed to how they were before when they avoided caretaker like the plague. They can’t ground themselves without Caretakers gentle touch and sweet words.

Caretaker who doesn’t have the heart to leave Whumpees side, knowing that Whumpee has to gain more independence but the thought of pulling away seeming impossible and cruel when it’s the first gentle love Whumpees had in ages, possibly ever. They weigh their options as they hug Whumpee closer and kiss the top of their head.

Caretaker who knows what they should do and that it isn’t healthy for Whumpee to be so attached, but after all that Whumpees been through, it feels needlessly cruel to deny them comfort.

Specifically about a whumpee who doesn't realize how bad they are traumatized until one moment. He just thought that his traumas "weren't as bad so its fine" so he didn't even realize he has cptsd or something like that

Omg fml I completely forgot about having asks on here I’m so sorry it’s been forever since u sent this 😭 anyways

!! TW/CW: sh (not graphic) !!

Whumpee who doesn’t know how bad they really have it, fingers constantly digging into skin raw from scratching. Pressing on bruises. Pulling out hair.

Whumpee who flinches at every little sound and movement, constantly trembling in fear when in the same room with somebody—anybody—even Caretaker.

Caretaker who tries their very hardest to explain to Whumpee that it’s, in fact, very unhealthy and abnormal to constantly be in a state of stress and pain.

Whumpee who brushes off Caretakers concerns, not having have known anything but fear for so long.

Whumpee who winces when Caretaker looks even a little bit agitated, immediately going to their knees and begging for forgiveness for whatever they must’ve done to anger them so.

Caretaker who’s so sweet and gentle with Whumpee, always reassuring them that it’s “really okay” and that they don’t have to apologise (especially for nothing) to avoid getting abused.

Whumpee who, in response, denies that they were ever abused.

Caretaker who sits Whumpee down after helping them recover from a panic attack triggered by the sudden loud construction work being done next door, explaining firmly that they have to get help or at least admit they aren’t just “fine”, explaining in every way they can that Whumpee is unwell.

Caretaker reaching out to brush away the tension between Whumpees brow, Whumpee releasing a breath they didn’t know they were holding when they feel their whole body slightly shift and relax.

Caretaker helping exhausted Whumpee spread lotion across their body after a shower, tenderly rubbing it into their skin, now free of dirt and blood that may have previously been there.

Okay so I had honestly forgotten to edit my ask box text so that it says that I am currently taking asks and requests, so even though I did have "requests closed" I'm so glad you sent this in because I totally forgot to change that 😭 also thank you, that’s very sweet of you!!

Also yes! I certainly do have so many prompts/drabbles for both as someone who adores those tropes (sick whump first, touch starved whump after. I did kinda write them in different formats oops but hope you enjoy it anyway!)

(Ps. Sorry it took actual months for me to answer this haha I have no schedule when it comes to this blog and life's been hard lately)

Sick whump:

Whumpee who has, after their rescue, managed to catch a cold—to no one’s surprise but to everyone’s dismay, regardless.

Whumpee who, at first, weakly shifted themselves onto the couch or the bed—whichever was closest or seemed the least harrowing—and buried themselves in the pillows and blankets Caretaker had hopefully left out for them.

Whumpee who shivers under even the warmth of the blankets and just sniffles weakly, curling up and trying to make their body sink further into the soft mattress and fluffed up cushions.

Caretaker who finds Whumpee in this state after coming home from running necessary errands, making an appointment for Whumpee.

Caretaker who immediately rushes to Whumpees side, fearing the worst, only to somewhat luckily find that Whumpee has merely caught a cold.

Caretaker who brings sick Whumpee whatever their heart desires, whether it be soup or tea or hot chocolate or more blankets.

Whumpee who quickly worsens, their words slurring together and body weakly reaching to push the blankets away, still cold yet hot, but feeling as if they might throw up if the blankets keep touching their neck.

Whumpee who starts shifting into a nearly dangerously delirious state, their body now practically numb as they start mumbling some, at first glance, nonsense, only for Caretaker realise that in Whumpees mind, they were back wherever Whumper held and tortured them, mumbling incoherent apologies and cries.

Caretaker who panics, pulling Whumpee closer to themselves, careful to not make them uncomfortable or, god forbid, hurt them. Letting Whumpee rest on them, Caretaker softly tells for them not to worry about such things, as they're safe now, making a note to self to bring what they'd said up with them someday when they’re feeling better and aren’t in a vulnerable, defenseless state.

Caretaker who is quick and precise in measuring the exact correct doses for Whumpee, wincing as Whumpee struggles to take them.

Caretaker who stays with Whumpee the whole time, aiding them however they need or desire and not spending a moment away from beside their bed for however long they are sick.

Whumpee who, when feeling better, may or may not remember their previous, delirious and rambly rant about things they would've much rather, and had definitely tried to, forget about.

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Touch starved whump:

Whumpee who finds themself craving touch.

Not the way Whumper did, hurting them in the cruelest ways. Not the way when, if ever, their touch was gentle or even kind, since Whumpee knew it was only to sooth Whumpee momentarily and to make whats to come hurt far worse.

Not the way everybody else had, which was close to not at all. Or from what Whumpee remembered, anyway, it having have been such a long time since they had recieved loving or truly well intentioned touch.

And their body aches.

Aches for comfort, for love, for peace, and for safety. For the most basic need, too, of course—touch.

But when Caretaker initiated touch of any kind, Whumpee could only try to control the way they flinched back, eyes widening and body tensing up.

God, they'd do anything to just allow themselves to be touched, but it's so hard to do when their nervous system immediately panicks at what it percieves as a threat.

But Caretaker isn't neglectful or uneducated—far from such, actually.

Attentively, they watch as Whumpee first flinches, then apologises, and tries to quickly calm themselves down as to not offend Caretaker.

So they begin slowly, only sporadically grazing Whumpee's arm or lightly patting their back, reassuring Whumpee of their safety whenever they tense up or dare to try and apologise for something Caretaker knows they can't control and would never even dream of taking personally.

And just as slowly, Whumpee begins to ease up.

It's a long process, but Caretaker notices how Whumpee, ever so lightly, leans into their touch and even lets Caretaker hold them and brush their hair, body relaxing against the long-awaited touch and affection, even as they fight against the unwanted instinct of pushing them away and retreating back into themselves.

Whumpee who knows they only have minutes, if not mere seconds, until Whumper notices their absence and all hell breaks loose.

Whumpee who knows they only have one shot at this.

Whumpee who’s running for their life—literally—not stopping when their breaths get shallower, when their throat starts to burn and their sides start to hurt, or when they start feeling as if they could pass out any moment.

Whumpee who runs through the yard, the forest, and onto a highway with no sidewalk, which they run along the side of until they finally come across a gas station.

Whumpee who barges in through the glass door, the “open” sign clanking against it with the sudden movement.

Whumpee who rushes to the underpaid cashier, their mouth moving faster than their thoughts, as they communicate the urgency of their situation, practically begging to be believed and helped.

Gas Station Employee who makes a few quick phone calls to the nearby police station, pausing to ask Whumpee for clarifications every few sentences.

Whumpee who meekly asks for permission to take a bottle of water from one of the fridges—as if they weren’t about to pass out from exhaustion and dehydration—as to which Gas Station Employee gravely encourages them to do so.

Gas Station Employee who does not charge Whumpee for the water bottle.

Whumpee who, after finally being saved from Whumper's hold, had only coffee, tea, and above all else, energy drinks as vices to rely on.

Whumpee who may or may not have had an addictive personality to begin with.

Whumpee who develops a reliance on caffeine, possibly having have had it as a vice even in their life even before Whumper.

Whumpee who drinks so many caffinated beverages that they're dizzy and their hands are trembling as they do anything and everything possible to avoid falling asleep as they’d be greeted by their reaccuring nightmares.

Whumpee who sneaks in energy drinks rather than alcohol, hoping to pass under Caretaker's radar.

Whumpee who just hopes that Caretaker will carelessly dismiss their reliance as slight overconsumption that many, if not most, people fall victim to when it comes to their workplace’s espresso machine.

Whumpee who is wrong, and hasn't realised just how perceptive and caring Caretaker is when it comes to Whumpee.

Whumpee who has had even their coffee/espresso machine privileges revoked as their patterns of consuming just a tad bit too many caffinated drinks daily does, in fact, not pass under Caretaker's radar—who now will not even let themselves drink coffee by Whumpee.

Whumpee who has headaches and falls asleep many times a day, as it’s been so long since they’ve been even a day without some caffeinated drink.

Whumpee who gets frustrated with all that Caretaker does, even if they know that Caretaker only wants the best for them—not that acknowledging it makes them feel any better about it, anyway.

Whumpee who can’t stay resentful at Caretaker for long.

Whumpee whose muscles are constantly tense as a result of having have been in fight or flight (or freeze or fawn) mode for so long.

Whumpee who, at random times, realises how tense they are for seemingly no reason.

Whumpee who has to manually relax their body: laying down in a specific position, trying to focus on each limb one at a time.

Whumpee who can only relax their body when they’re asleep.

Whumpee who gets frustrated and agitated with their body resisting them, refusing to soften up even when they’re trying so hard.

Vs.

Whumpee who takes hours of pleading with to finally get to the car, where they sit quietly for the whole car ride, stiff and uncomfortable.

Whumpee who clings to Caretaker's side for the whole therapy session, unwilling to let go of them even when it's supposed to be a one-on-one appointment.

Whumpee who practically runs back to the car the second the clock strikes whatever time the appointments supposed to end.

Caretaker who feels so guilty for having to drag Whumpee to these appointments while knowing how much Whumpee despises them.

Caretaker who takes Whumpee out to do something fun they enjoy after every appointment.

"Do you remember what you were like before?" Caretaker asked gently. Too gently—and Whumpee hated it. Whumpee absolutely despised the softness, the kindness they always held in their voice as the sweetly coaxed Whumpee's secrets out of them, to, of course, use against them later—Whumpee thought. It was the same voice that The Leader would always use; Whumpee wondered why it scared, angered them so much to hear Caretaker take on the same tone. How could they dislike the same tone their God would use? It all confused, and immensely bothered, Whumpee.