i'm always looking for new prompts to fill! i'm in the market for
recovery stuff
living weapon whump
platonic whumpee x caretaker
addiction whump
bad caretaker
lady whump
hero villain whump
please no pet whump atm!
i don't do nsfw!
no plushie whump!
you can always send me others' prompts! if you'd like me to continue a drabble, the best way to let me know is not through a comment but through an ask, or @ me!
my queue is very long if you send me stuff and i don't answer right away i am not ignoring you! (inbox: 13)
i'm gonna run a (hopefully annual?) lady whump event over at @ladywhumpdiaries, check that out if you want to know more!
send me a five sentence fic starter!
my five sentence fics aren't tagged or trigger warned, so if you don't want to see them, block #five sentence fics
Silence (my book!!!) (SSBA nominee)
Rayan has always wanted a pet. Not the fluffy kind, but the kind that looks deceptively human. When the creature heβs been feeding out behind the dumpster turns out to be a pet, he canβt stop himself from taking it in. But Sil is a runaway for a reason. As secrets come to life and the Pet Protection Agency closes in, Rayan will be forced to question everything he thought he knew.
Masterpost
Drabbles
Prompts
oneshots/short series taglist: @whumpsday @jumpywhumpywriter
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Whumpee stared at itself in the mirror. Its once flat chest was now... round. Its parts were all wrong. Its short hair has been changed, length, colour, and texture. Its eyes were now icy blue, a radical shift from the deep, almost black brown they used to be. It was slimmer as well, which it... didn't really have a right to dislike, and yet it did. It was wrong. It wasn't meant to look like this.
"Whumpee," its owner called, and Whumpee tore itself away from the mirror to attend to its duties as a companion android. "What are you doing, staring at yourself all day?"
Wondering where all these freckles came from. And why. Do you have a thing for freckles? And busty blonde women? I'm not one. You made me into one. I hate it.
"Nothing," it said. It missed its original owner. The one who let it decide on major decisions regarding its look. "Just getting used to the look."
"Come, sit by me."
Whumpee forced itself to go. Obey. Obey. Obey.
Its owner took a strand of its blonde hair, twirling it around their finger. "If you want to know what you look like, just ask me. And I'll tell you every time that you're beautiful."
Gross.
"Thank you."
Its owner smiled. "Your previous owner had no taste. I'm so glad you're now mine. What a waste of potential, and for so many years."
Whumpee smiled softly. It did everything softly now. Lady-like. Whatever that meant.
Suddenly, its owner's grip on its hair tightened, and they pulled it close. Whumpee let out a small cry of surprise and pain.
"I know you fucking hate it," they said in a low voice. "But this is what you are. This is all you'll ever be until I'm dead. So get used to it."
"I know that sound," Whumpee said, standing in Caretaker's bedroom doorway, peeking in from a door left ajar.
Caretaker quickly tried to hide the bottle. "It's not what you thinkβ"
"No, I know the sound of pouring alcohol from a mile away."
"You would know that much, wouldn't you," Caretaker mumbled.
"I'm not here to scold you for drinking in the house with a recovering alcoholic. I'm just asking for a glass for myself."
"Whumpee, no."
"Come on, you already have it out."
"Whumpee, no."
Whumpee huffed. "I'll just go out to a bar, then. Get wasted with a bunch of strangers. The thought is already in my head anyway β you put it there."
Caretaker sighed. "Bring a glass. Better here than out there, I guess."
content: emotional whump, suicidal whumpee, attempted suicide whump, suicide, lady whump, lady whumpee, forced treatment, loss of consciousness, substance abuse whump (pills)
"Would you miss me if I was gone?"
Caretaker furrowed her brows. She and Whumpee were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying some spaghetti bolognese, but now that she was paying a little more attention, she could see Whumpee wasn't enjoying her food at all. She was just nudging the strands of pasta around with her fork.
"Of course," she said sincerely, and with quite a bit of concern in her voice. "Why? Are you okay?"
She was thinking of Whumpee running away. A more horrifying example of Whumpee being 'gone' popped into her head as well, but she stuffed that down.
"Just wondering," Whumpee said, continuing to play with her food. "Just wondering."
"Whumpee, you're my best friend. I would die if anything happened to you. Like, I would never be the same."
"Mhm."
"You don't believe me."
"No, I do..."
"You don't."
"Maybe I don't."
A few seconds passed in silence. Whumpee didn't look up.
"You know," she began, but she trailed off. Caretaker was just now noticing that Whumpee's eyes stayed closed longer and longer as she blinked.
"Whumpee?" Before she could respond, Whumpee slumped forward, face in the spaghetti. "Whumpee!"
Caretaker jumped up, rounding the table and helping Whumpee sit back up. Her eyes were rolled back. Caretaker immediately grabbed her phone and dialled the emergency number.
"Hi, hello, my friendβ my friend lost consciousness, I think she might've taken something, she's struggled with suicidality beforeβ" She rattled off the address and kept shaking Whumpee by the shoulders. She was unresponsive. "Please, Whumpee. Please, wake up. Don't do this to me. Whumpee, please."
No amount of begging brought her back. Eventually, instead of shaking her, Caretaker moved to just pressing two fingers to her neck, letting out a relieved sigh when she felt a pulse. But it was weak, and not too consistent.
Where was the fucking ambulance?
Soon, EMTs barged into the apartment. They took Whumpee and let Caretaker ride in the back of the ambulance with them.
"It's gonna be okay," Caretaker whispered to Whumpee while one of them did chest compressions. There were tears in her eyes. "It's gonna be okay."
She didn't want to think about how Whumpee's 'okay' might be exactly this scenario: her, with her heart stopped, leaving Caretaker behind.
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"Go away," Whumpee said in a low voice. "Go away. Go away."
"Whumpee, I'm here to help," the nurse said. It didn't believe her.
"Go away," it repeated. "Away. Away. Away."
"If you just take these pills, the thoughts will go away. Don't you want that? Don't you want to feel safe here?"
"I will never feel safe here," it growled. It was rocking back and forth on its bed, a constant barrage of disturbing thoughts swirling around in its head, and the nurse was promising relief, but relief never came, and certainly never stayed. "Go away."
"Whumper," the nurse called.
Whumpee knew what that meant. They were going to restrain it. Give it the medicine by force.
"Go away!" it screeched, and the nurse looked at it with a pitying expression.
"It'll be better soon, don't worry," she said, and it panicked, and it jumped up on its bed and started frantically tugging at the metal bars on the window. It would've rather jumped than be medicated. The medicine was poison.
"Go away!" it screamed when it turned around for a moment and saw Whumper entering the room. "Go away, away, away!"
"No can do," Whumper said in that gruff voice of theirs. They grabbed Whumpee by the arm and forced it to lie flat on the bed. Then, systematically, they bound its wrists and ankles to the bedposts.
"Thank you, Whumper," the nurse said, brandishing a needle. "Now, as for the medicine..."
"Go away!" Whumpee yelled, thrashing so the nurse wouldn't be able to inject it. "Go away! Go away! Go away!"
"Whumpee, this is for your own good. You really should've learned this by now."
The nurse grabbed it just above the knee, immobilising its leg. She stabbed the needle into its thigh, emptying its contents.
"There," she said, letting go. "I'll undo the restraints once this has had a chance to settle in your system."
content: second person pov, living weapon whump, living weapon whumpee, conditioned whumpee, whumpee turned whumper, knives, bodymod
"Yes, Freddie," you say trying to conceal how eager you are to see her reaction to the door. You're not sure what you're looking for β you figure you'll recognise suspicious behaviour when it happens.
"Great. The bus is almost here."
You two get on when it arrives, sitting down in two empty seats. You stare out the window, and you realise just how far you've run. Even by bus, the commute takes long.
"You take the bus every day?" you ask her.
"Yes. Why?"
"Wouldn't it be better to work closer to home?"
No. Shut up. You can't give away how oblivious you are to how the real world works. Maybe there is no closer workplace. Maybe Freddie couldn't get one, for whatever reason. Not everyone eats and sleeps and trains in the same place for decades.
Freddie just smiles. "It would be."
And that's the end of that. You don't press for answers.
You get off the bus at a station close to where Freddie found you. Your walk back to the apartment is quiet. Freddie is humming a song, barely audible.
You reach her front door. It is just as you left it, broken and ajar.
"Oh," Freddie says, and you don't see surprise on her face. "You really did want to get away."
"Y-You locked me up," you stammer, trying to justify it. "I had to get out!"
"Why? You had food, clean clothes, a room..."
"B-But I was..." You have to just come out and say it. "I don't trust you. And why should I? You've been acting suspicious all morning. All day. Since the moment I met you! And then you locked me inside!"
"As I said, it was an accident. But I get it. Let me call someone to fix the door."
"Why aren't you more mad?" you snap.
"You felt cornered. It's only naturalβ"
No. You're done listening to excuses. You pop your blade out, grabbing Freddie by the neck of her shirt and slamming her against the wall, knife to her neck. "Tell me right now who you're working for, what you want, and why you want it."
Freddie stills under your hold. "Someone might see us," she says quietly.
"I don't care anymore. I just care that I know what you want."
But that's untrue. Because the door next to Freddie's opens, and you immediately let go of her and hide your prosthetic arm. A woman with two little kids walks out, greeting you and Freddie as they pass.
Freddie says hi back. You don't even look at them.
She's way too calm about having just been threatened. "Let's just go inside," she suggests.
You're tired. You're confused. You're exhausted from being on edge all day.
don't know if any of this is canon or if i'll stick with these ocs i'm just playing around
content: lady whump, lady whumpee, nonhuman caretaker, siren caretaker, amnesia whump, implied past trauma
Noelle didn't know what she was looking for that day. The day she bought herself a tiny boat with her measly earnings and paddled out to sea, so far from shore she could only see its blue silhouette. She just wanted peace, she supposed. Some quiet time, away from the noise of her town, the mumblings of the elders, the looks children gave her.
And then, she heard it.
A single, lone voice. The voice of a singing woman, carrying across the clear water. It was enchanting. It was almost... almost so good that Noelle, she wanted out of the boat... She wanted to... wanted to...
The song stopped suddenly, a note cut short. Noelle suddenly found herself back in her body, settled in her mind. She shook her head. What had happened?
"Oh my, oh my," came a voice from somewhere she couldn't see. She was whipping this way and that, and then she finally spotted it. The head of a woman sticking out of the water. She was pretty far away, so it was difficult to make out her features, but she looked... ethereal. "I thought I was alone."
"What are you doing this far out at sea?" Noelle yelled to her. "Come on the boat! I'll take you back to shore!"
The woman laughed. It sounded angelic. "To shore? No, you definitely don't want to do that." She ducked underwater, and Noelle thought she was about to witness a suicide. But then she saw her outline in the water... a woman's torso alright, but... a fish's tail?
The woman surfaced again, closer to the boat, wet hair sticking to her face.
"A mermaid," Noelle breathed.
"A siren," the woman β the siren β corrected. "I'm surprised you don't recognise one. Everyone in seaside towns knows about us. Knows not to go out to sea alone."
"I'm... not on speaking terms with the townspeople," Noelle admitted. "Not since..." She trailed off. "And I can't remember before. All I know is the life I have now."
"So you don't know what I am?"
"Well, a siren. You've just told me."
The siren laughed again. "Yes, yes, that is true. You know, we're evil. We lure people to their deaths."
"You didn't lure me to my death."
"I almost did."
"Unknowingly."
She smiled. "Well, you caught me. I'm somewhat of an outlier."
"Can you come closer? What's your name? I'm Noelle."
"Regina," she said, slowly inching closer to the boat, like she herself was afraid of Noelle. As if she had anything to hurt her with.
"Regina," she repeated. "So you're a queen?"
"We don't indulge in empty titles like that," Regina said. "I suppose the name just sounded sweet to my parents."
Noelle looked away.
"Is something wrong, dear?" the siren asked.
"Have you ever lost something precious? Or, like, something that feels precious, if only you could remember it?"
Regina cocked her head to the side. She was close enough now that she could put her elbows on the lip of the boat, her tail idly swishing back and forth below in the water. "Can't say I have."
"I see..."
"What have you lost?" she asked.
Noelle sighed. "Doesn't matter. I should head back."
"Oh, well, safe travels," Regina said, pushing herself away from the boat.
"Waitβ"
"Yes?"
"I... If I come out again... Do you speak to the townsfolk?"
"Dear, they hate me. They hate all sirens. I don't 'talk' to them, because they talk with their harpoons."
"So you don't know about me at all?"
"Are you famous there?"
"In a sense, I suppose..."
Regina shook her head. "I've never seen you or heard of you."
"Would you come back, then? If I came back another day?"
She smiled, amused. "What for? I've told you, we're evil."
"You don't seem evil."
Regina flicked her tail, splashing Noelle with water. "There. Do I seem evil now?"
Noelle wiped her face. "You won't trick me. You're an outlier, you said it yourself. I'm somewhat of an... outcast. So I get it. And I don't have a harpoon. So would you come back?"
"What is it you're running from, dear?"
"People. Humans. All of them. I just can'tβ I can't take it, being amongst them when I know there's someone out here who doesn't... doesn't hate me. Or judge me."
"Why, I'm certainly not judging."
"Will you come back?"
Regina seemed hesitant, but in the end, she crossed her heart. "I will. The day after tomorrow, I'll be here. Just follow the sound of my voice."
"Thank you," Noelle sighed. "Thank you, Regina. I know it's a lot to ask. If you're right, if humans do hate you, then... then you can't really trust me, can you?"
"I wouldn't have promised if I didn't sense something different in you."
Noelle risked a tentative smile. "Can sirens sense that sort of thing?"
"In a way, yes."
"I'm glad. I'll be here, then. The day after tomorrow."
Regina waved, webbed fingers with sharp nails at the end making a short appearance before she ducked under the water and disappeared from Noelle's sight.
A siren. She would have to read up on that. She had two days to do so.
i want to write a story where whumpee has repressed trauma that they want to figure out to heal from it and get back years of their life they've lost out on and there is a person willing to help them go deep into their psyche to find those memories. i don't know if i want it to be a regular human doing hypno-therapy, a friendly vampire, a human with hypno superpowers... none of those feel very right. if you have suggestions drop it in my inbox or the comments
i think i'm settling on a siren. but still lmk if you have other thoughts
i think i like the imagery of whumpee going out on the open waters in nothing but their tiny boat to meet their siren friend and do some soul searching
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i want to write a story where whumpee has repressed trauma that they want to figure out to heal from it and get back years of their life they've lost out on and there is a person willing to help them go deep into their psyche to find those memories. i don't know if i want it to be a regular human doing hypno-therapy, a friendly vampire, a human with hypno superpowers... none of those feel very right. if you have suggestions drop it in my inbox or the comments
Whumpee looked away, fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. "To the hospital."
Caretaker furrowed their brows. "Like, the ER?"
"The psych unit."
"Oh."
There was a bit of silence. Caretaker didn't talk, and Whumpee didn't want to look up and see what must've been disappointment on their face.
"If you think that's best, then yeah, we'll go."
"I packed my bag already."
"Oh. Well... Okay. I'll grab the car keys."
The ride there was silent. Caretaker kept glancing at Whumpee, and Whumpee, after a while, resorted to just staring out the window. It was nighttime already, and the stars were pretty.
"We're here."
"Thank you."
"Should I help carry your bag?"
"I got it."
"So you don't want me to come in... at all? Wait with you until your intake?"
"I got it," they repeated.
"...okay. I'll come visit tomorrow, then."
"Okay."
Whumpee knew what they were about to do. Caretaker wouldn't find them on ward C.
Ward C was for acute but manageable patients, they got the most freedoms. Ward B was for more severe cases, and ward A was the restricted ward for cases such as self-harm risks.
They got out of the car and went inside, doing the intake process and getting placed in a bed on ward C. They got out the pill bottle they'd smuggled in and downed the contents while the other patients slept.
Then, they waited.
They didn't really know why they'd done this. Why they'd asked Caretaker to drive them here if they weren't going to be honest about their suicide plan, or why they chose a place to commit suicide where they knew there were the most guardrails. Maybe they didn't want to die. But then why not just say that on the intake form?
Once they felt sufficiently floaty, they staggered out of their room without waking their roommates. They went to the nurse's station.
"I took a bunch of sedatives," they slurred.
"Huh?" the night nurse asked.
"Sedatives. I took a bunch."
"How many?"
"As many as there were in the bottle."
"Was it a 30 bottle? 100?"
"30."
"Shit, Whumpee," they cursed under their breath.
And then they were whisked away, to safety. To ward A, to have their stomach washed out. To be with the other crazies.
"I told you he wasn't up for the job," Hero heard one of them whisper. He cleared his throat.
"We'll start small. Just patching up things. I know the fact that I'm in charge now isn't ideal, Superhero should be here, but..."
"We know," someone else said, sounding annoyed. "Just tell us what to do now."
"I'm, I'm trying to," he stammered. "Look, I'm as shaken as all of youβ"
"You shouldn't be! You're in charge now, shouldn't you be, like, exuding confidence? So we don't freak?"
"Yes, yes, of course. Of course. Sorry." He took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. "I don't have a concrete planβ"
"What do you mean?" somebody asked, borderline hysterical. "Superhero always had a plan! She was prepared for everything! Why did she even choose you as her replacement in case of an emergency, if you can't even come up with a plan?"
"Can everyone just shut up?" Hero snapped. The room fell silent. "We'll do this. Somehow. Someway. I'm in charge, for better or worse. And we'll manage."
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"I don't really know what I'm doing..." Caretaker mumbled as they opened up Whumpee's chest plate, beginning to fuss with the wires inside.
"That's okay," Whumpee said, its voice strained. It was slowly shutting down, and anything Caretaker did would probably only make it better. "If it's really bad... you can... you can turn me off."
