Things that Go Whump in the Night

Caretaker holding their hand tightly but gently, desperately looking over Whumpee's body to see what they need to do to help. But it's too much damage, so much blood, where would they even start-

Whumpee whimpering and gripping harder.

They can't put pressure with their hands bound behind their back, so they're curled on their side in the slightest attempt for pressure.

FEATURING: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus & caleb

CONTENT WARNINGS: death, suicide ideation (most prominent in xavier's), read rafayel's 'when light falls' card so his part makes sense, fem reader in rafayel’s, they're super mean to other people here😭, angst, angst & a whooooole lotta angst

NOTE: my debut post to the lads community! i just wanna say i am SO sorry for such a brutal first smau oh my goodness💔 i would also like to apologize if they're a little ooc, i just started playing the game and im still trying to get a feel for the characters 😵‍💫 i hope you all enjoy this regardless! :')

masterlist

RPD sweetheart

- Wrenching Them Up By The Hair™. The Classic. beloved.

- Pain so sudden it startles them into looking

- Do they have a collar of some kind? perhaps with a loop? Something to hook your finger into to pull? Or just a leash, I'm not picky.

- Tip of a blade under a chin. Or muzzle of a gun. any weapon. incredibly goofy with a morningstar.

- speaking of muzzle- have you considered: hooking a finger into whumpee's gag and/or muzzle and pulling? because i have. i have.

- Simply grabbing whumpee's chin. Bruisingly Tight.

"be gentle. please, just- please. be gentle. go slow. please."

and when whumper is on top of them, inside them, rocking in and out of them, slow and soft, and they're sobbing so hard they can't breathe, whumper strokes their face, rolls their hips until they're so deep inside whumpee that whumpee can't breathe, and coos at them.

Whumpee looked up. “What?”

“Those moves." Caretaker said, wiping sweat from their forehead, "They’re not ones that you learn how to fight traditionally. They’re ones you learn fighting to survive.”

Whumpee blinked.

“So who taught you how to fight?”

Hah. Whumpee let out a faint snort, then huffed and stood up, taking their weapon.

"You don't want to know." Whumpee felt Caretaker's gaze follow them as they walked out, an image of Whumper plastered in their mind.

Caretaker doesn't want to break up with Whumpee, but they know things also aren't working between them, so they get a therapist. Privately, without Whumpee knowing. They vent their frustrations about how Whumpee's attitude and behaviour is hurting them. About how they think Whumpee might be cheating because they're being too secretive around their phone, and, no matter what lengths Whumpee goes to to hide them, Caretaker has seen those fucking hickeys.

It sounds like a classic case of cheating. Whumpee's fallen in love with a co-worker, or is maybe having a secret affair with their boss. The usual dramas. But Caretaker still loves Whumpee despite all of this, and they want to try to make it work. So they work with their therapist to come up with a way to have an actual conversation with Whumpee. Non-confrontational, open, "I just want to hear you out."

And it works. A little too well.

It starts out hostile. Whumpee is defensive as usual, and then they just... break down. The truth comes tumbling out. Whumper has been abusing them for months, threatening them to keep quiet, hurting them so badly they've had to miss shifts at work to go to the hospital then make up the lost hours with overtime. And Caretaker listens with increasing horror as Whumpee gets more and more upset because fuck they have misjudged this terribly.

They comfort Whumpee the best they can, then immediately text their therapist.

i'm so sorry this is so late, my friend, i'm sure you've already written the scene or moved on by now but i do LOVE this question so i'm going to give some options. given the subject of this blog i assume you mean a whumpee who was raped telling caretaker about it. if that's not what you meant, my bad. but, here we go!! enjoy.

"i- i can't- i need you to ask me. i can't say it, i need you to ask me questions, okay? please. you- i think you know. please just ask me."

"i was raped." [pause, trembling breath] "sorry. i didn't mean to just- to say it like that, i just- i had to get it out. i don't think i'd- i was raped."

"i think something happened to me. someone... i think someone did something to me."

"you want me to tell you what happened? fine. fine, i'll tell you what happened. whumper fucked me. they pinned me down and spread my legs and shoved inside me and fucked me until they came. i was a fucking toy for them, a toy that they fucked. is that what you wanted to hear? are you happy now?"

"they wouldn't stop. i said no, and they didn't listen."

"it... hurt. it hurt. they wouldn't stop, and it hurt. i- please don't make me say it."

"i don't want to make you deal with this, i really don't want to force you to- i just- i really need to talk about this, because someone did something to me, and i can't- i don't feel okay. i don't- i feel- can i tell you? is it okay if i tell you what... can i talk to you about it?"

"you know what they did. come on. you know."

"whumper... forced me."

"i tried to fight. i promise i did, i said no, i fought, i did. i tried to get away. i didn't just- i didn't just let them-"

Picture it:

Whumpee crumpled up in a ball on their cell floor, clutching the hilt of a knife buried in their gut, blood seeping from between their teeth.

Whumpee who fell several stories during a buildings collapse and can’t move a muscle to escape the rubble because there’s a rod sticking out of their abdomen, pinning them to the ground.

Whumpee tied up in their seat, unconscious. Rescuer finds them with nails pinning their hands to the arms of the chair.

Whumpee who has been shot and Medic who is frantically looking for the bullet but can’t find it. Caretaker holds Whumpee’s head in their lap, trying to keep them from falling asleep as they slowly bleed out. OR…

Whumpee that’s been shot but has no way to fish the bullet out, whether it be too deep in or they just don’t have the knowledge to do so. They sew up the hole in their abdomen, limb, etc., with nothing more than a prayer that it didn’t hit anything vital.

- Wrenching Them Up By The Hair™. The Classic. beloved.

- Pain so sudden it startles them into looking

- Do they have a collar of some kind? perhaps with a loop? Something to hook your finger into to pull? Or just a leash, I'm not picky.

- Tip of a blade under a chin. Or muzzle of a gun. any weapon. incredibly goofy with a morningstar.

- speaking of muzzle- have you considered: hooking a finger into whumpee's gag and/or muzzle and pulling? because i have. i have.

- Simply grabbing whumpee's chin. Bruisingly Tight.

i would LOVE to this is one of my favourite things forever. i <3 sex after trauma. for anyone reading this, this drabble is intended in the context of platonic sex/friends being sexually intimate/other nonromantic context. interpret it how you want of course, but that is how we roll on this blog.

...

they're both nervous. whumpee is nervous, but caretaker is nervous, too. they want this to be... good. to be safe.

"it's okay if you have to stop," caretaker says. their voice is soft and warm. there's only a dim lamp on in the room, and they're in caretaker's bed, dressed in their pajamas. that felt like a silly way to do this, but it makes sense. they're comfortable, it's loose clothing, but they're not jumping straight to being fully naked. they're taking it slow. that's the plan. take it slow. "i just- you can always say stop. that's always okay."

whumpee is quiet at first and nerves climb higher in caretaker's throat. was that too patronizing? did it feel true enough? did they fuck up the wording, did it- was it-

"you can, too," is what whumpee finally says. "say no, i mean. it's okay if you want to stop."

caretaker looks at them sharply, abruptly worried that it seems like they don't actually want to be here, that shame and guilt is making whumpee feel like a horrible burden. it wouldn't be the first time. but that's... what's on their face isn't that. it's not guilt, or prickly defensiveness, or... it's warmth. it's an awkward, shy kind of earnestness, because- oh. right. they just... they meant that. they want caretaker to know that they can stop, too. it's- it's really sweet, is what it is.

"yeah," caretaker breathes, reaching over and taking whumpee's hand. they squeeze tight, get a tight squeeze back. they're close, and the sudden eye contact, sudden closeness, is making their skin feel hot, especially between their legs. "yeah. anyone gets to stop. any time. ground rule."

they smile at each other. it's earnest, a bit embarrassed, a little silly. it's time.

Whumpee who apologizes in a dream = Even better

Think about it for a moment. Whumpee asleep beside Caretaker, perhaps in the same bed. Caretaker wakes to the sound of some kind of dry, hiccoughing sobbing. They turn towards Whumpee and find them trapped in a restless sleep, face pale and contorted.

“…’m sorry,…” Whumpee slurs, sleep sticking to their voice.

And who are they apologizing to?

Whumper? “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, I’ll be better?”