Whump - Blog Posts
Whump Prompt #1304
@broken-lycan asked:
Hi I wanted to ask if you have prompts for emotional whump with two characters who saved each other's lives and are close friends? Perhaps with some injury caretaking like changing bandages or something like that? I really want to write something for two specific characters but am lacking ideas (even with whumptober coming up believe it or not) xD
Thanks in advance and I hope you have a good day! Your blog is such a good inspiration :D
Thank you for the kind words! So sorry this was pushed back due to my WT schedule, I hope you have a fun time!
I can give it a go:
"Why do you always do this?" / "Because you're always getting into trouble." - This could be seen in two ways: this could be the caretaker questioning why the whumpee gets into trouble, or the whumpee asking the caretaker why they always patch them up.
"I owe you one." / "You could start by not being so stupid."
"Is this the shirt I got you for your birthday?" / "Yeah... to be fair, I wasn't expecting [this injury] to happen."
"I can't believe you took that hit for me." / "It was your round the next time we're at the bar. Can't pass up that opportunity..."
"Does it hurt?" / "Not as much as my ego." / "[B], Be serious..." / "Of course it hurts, but it's easier to get it over with. I knew what I signed up for."
"I'll keep watch - don't argue - you're just gonna be stuck with me for a while." / "Wouldn't have it any other way."
"Would you sit still?" / "You sound like my mother." / "Hey, show [B's mothers name] some respect!" / "It disturbs me how close the two of you are." / "You don't call her enough. I'll be over for Christmas dinner."
"I should become a nurse with how much I have to do this. I get plenty of practice with you." / "Admit it, you'd miss patching me up." / "Let me get back to you on that one."
Whump Prompt #1306
Anon asked:
Do you have any collars and dehumanization prompts?
I have a couple:
“Hello, pet.”
The whumper removes any instance of the whumpees names/nicknames. They are just ‘pet’ (or whatever else the owner wants to call them.) They’re not even called ‘blue eyes’ or ‘blondie’ etc.
The collar is one of those barbed ones, or a loop leash that tightens if the whumpee strays too far.
Maybe they’re kept at the whumpers side - forever forced to crawl by them/sit on their haunches.
It takes a long time for them to learn the behaviour… and it'll take even longer for them to unlearn it when they’re rescued.
The whumpee could eventually turn feral - taking on characteristics of a pet.
Maybe the whumper has a ‘pack’ of pets - I can imagine the new addition being unwelcome/being forced to fight for their food.
They’re fed in a bowl on the floor.
If they’re good they’re given treats (small biscuits, scraps of meat etc)
Over time, they feel anxious if they don’t have a collar around their neck. At first it’s claustrophobic, but then they feel too exposed without it.
“So this is what you do? You find little broken dolls, fix them up only to break them again?”
tw pet whump, abandonment, rejection
"Please!" Whumpee sobbed, clinging to their master's clothes desperately. "P-please, don't– don't leave me here, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Whumper looked down at them with nothing but ice cold disdain, all that warmth and fondness Whumpee had gotten used to entirely gone. "Let go of my clothes," they ordered firmly, and Whumpee obeyed, because they were good, they could be good, they could follow orders.
"Please, forgive me, I– I've made mistakes, b-but I won't make one again, please. Please, just give me a chance."
"I've given you many," they said bluntly.
Please please please please I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry–
"Please don't leave me," they choked out. "Please. Please, I'll do anything, please–'
Whumper didn't wait for them to finish. They turned around and left, slamming the front door of the shelter shut behind them; trapping Whumpee inside with all the other abandoned pets and workers who seemed not to care for them at all.
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty
Not gonna draw attention to the post because I suspect the person might blow a gasket, but it's always so funny to me when you see someone picking apart fanart, in this case, a popular fan Ot3 pairing, and they're like, "y'all have brainrot, this'll never be canon, you realize that?"
And maybe I'm just ancient, but since when has fandom ever been about validating canon? Canon is incidental to fandom output. It is, at best, a guideline. You can stick to it, or you can go so far off the beaten path that you fall off the edge of the world and wind up in a new one where the map has words like "here be dragons" stamped in the upper corner.
Fandom is about exploration beyond the canon. It can look like canon, talk like canon, and sometimes even emulate it so perfectly you'd swear you've found the author's secret account, but it doesn't have to.
Ultimately, however, it's about having fun. And if you can't understand that, I have no idea what you're doing here.
a rather specific prompt for you :)
whumpee is/ was trained and used a a guard dog. during their time with their master they sustained an injury that causes them to not be able to fulfill their job properly anymore. still wounded, they get thrown out, chained in some allay. whumpee expects to die alone and cold, when caretaker comes along and accidentally stumbles across the abandoned whumpee. they (caretaker) think whumpee is just a regular pet and don’t realize they have a still dangerous guard dog at their feet and decide to rescue them and help them recover. whumpee has never experienced anything like this kindness, especially after becoming so useless, so (after having lost their old master) they immediately bond to caretaker as their new master, and would do anything to protect and please them
tw pet whump, amputation, abandonment, past trauma, broken bones, medical setting, caretaker new master, murder, gore, dehumanisation
"Oh, dear..." Caretaker crouched down by the shivering figure, putting the back of their hand against their forehead. They looked... half-dead, honestly, so the feverish warmth eminating from them was almost a relief. "Who did this to you...?"
The poor thing whined, and they reminded Caretaker of a wounded dog; but maybe that was just from how they were chained up. This was all so horrible.
"Okay, don't be scared. I'm gonna get you out of the alley and to a vet, alright? We'll get you all fixed up."
Another whine, and Caretaker suddenly realised there were other issues apart from the visible sickness. The pet's ankle... it was twisted in a way they'd never seen before. It was swollen, a mix of deep red and purple, bent in a way no healthy foot was supposed to.
"Oh... Oh, this is way worse than I thought, isn't it?" They immediately regretted the comment when the thing looked up at them with those wide, fearful eyes, probably expecting them to just give up now and leave them. "That's okay!" they added hastily. "It's okay. Nothing that can't be fixed! I... I hope... I'll call someone for help."
-
So they'd been wrong. Some things were in fact beyond saving, and Whumpee's foot turned out to be one of them. Amputation, prosthetics... Whumpee was handling it badly.
"I know," Caretaker soothed. "I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it'll be better later on, I promise, the doctors know what they're doing."
Whumpee let out a soft whimper, a scared one, and Caretaker thought their heart was going to shatter even further. The pet hadn't uttered a single word yet, — maybe they couldn't? — but their face was expressive enough to make Caretaker tear up.
"I'll be here," they said gently. "Every step of the way, yeah? I'll be here for you. I'll help. We'll figure it out."
How? Caretaker didn't know. They weren't planning on adopting a pet, but... they couldn't just leave Whumpee alone after all this. They had an obligation, a responsibility.
If anything, Whumpee's awe-filled eyes just made them more determined.
-
"One foot in front of the other. Slowly. There you go."
Physical therapy was a lot, but Whumpee seemed dead set on achieving every goal weeks earlier than planned. The staff had said it would take four to eight weeks for Whumpee to be able to walk again... and many more before they fully got used to their artificial foot. They were out and about within two weeks, much to the dismay of said staff.
"They'll hurt themself," they'd said. "They should be resting."
"They're very eager to come home, I guess," Caretaker had replied awkwardly, but Whumpee had nodded along, completely serious.
So now they were walking along the corridors, Caretaker supporting Whumpee's weight less and less as they learned the ways and limits of their new life.
-
"I know it's not super fancy..." Caretaker opened the door and stood aside, motioning Whumpee inside. "But I guess it's... homey."
The pet surveyed their surroundings curiously, then turned back towards Caretaker with a bright smile. If they'd had a tail, Caretaker wagered they would've been wagging it.
It made them smile, too. "You like it?"
Whumpee nodded enthusiastically, walking over to the new pet bed Caretaker had bought just a week prior. They carefully set their belongings down next to it, — a shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of socks, and a collar — then made themself comfortable. Testing it out.
"I think we'll get along nicely," Caretaker commented absently. "I mean, I like you a lot. And you seem to like me. I don't see how this could go wrong."
-
Caretaker couldn't believe their eyes.
This couldn't be real.
Was that blood? Was that blood on Whumpee's clothes, and hands, and... face?
When the pet spotted them they immediately fell to their knees, whimpering in terror. They tried to wipe their hands on their victim's shirt, to no avail.
"Whumpee, what– what's– what's going on...?"
Whumpee was crying now, getting more and more desperate about ridding themself of the blood, as though that was the only evidence as to what they'd done. As though they could erase it all, if only they managed to erase the stains.
Caretaker walked closer, eyes wide with shock and horror. So much blood. So much gore.
Their sweet pet had done this?
"Why...?"
Whumpee scrambled to pick up some sort of equipment, struggling to hold it between bloody fingers. A lockpick, Caretaker noted distantly. They put it down on the floor in front of their feet, then quickly grabbed something else: a knife, this time. They put it next to the lockpick. Then they crawled back, flattening themself against the floor like a dog who knew it'd done something bad, whining as they waited for the verdict.
The stranger had been a burglar. Was it... self-defence? No, this had been a brutal murder.
"You're– you're a guard dog," Caretaker said softly, because they didn't think their voice could handle anything more. They got but a whimper in response. "This... Oh, dear. This is not... This is not good."
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty
Current aesthetic of my brain is a whumpee who seems powerful and dangerous to outsiders, but in reality is under the thumb of someone who both treats them cruelly and controls their every move 💖
Mindless thrashing against cold metal restraints. Desperate, screaming, but the agony doesn't stop. The whumper keeps going.
Just to see the tension. Just to watch the despair. Just to inflict as much suffering as possible.
Just to prove that they can.
yeah impaling a character to pin them to the wall is good but you know what makes it better? having to pull out the thing impaling them to save them
I’m a sucker for whumpees with scarred backs.
The criss-crossing lines, evidence of torn flesh and burns, layer upon layer of scar tissue built up until the original skin is essentially gone. The reveal when they take their shirt off. How it stands as a testament to their suffering. Mmmm.
Brutal whump idea:
A large ring pierced through Whumpee’s mouth, below their tongue and straight through their jaw. A chain hooked to that, and used to drag them around like on a leash, tugging whenever they’re moving too slow.
Not only the pain, but it works as a permanent gag. Maybe it goes through their tongue as well. They can’t speak right. They can’t eat. Any sound comes out as a pathetic whine. They can’t close their mouth, maybe their hands are bound behind them so they can do nothing about the blood and saliva dripping down their chin.
The only thing that matters is that they certainly won’t be mouthing off to Whumper again.
😌
Whumpril 2023 approaches!
Rules:
Anyone can participate.
Any media form is allowed (art, fic, gifs, music, whatever).
You can participate however much or as little as you want, no pressure to complete every single day.
You can post your work anywhere on the internet, Tumblr, Ao3, etc.
Tag potential triggers and NSFW accordingly.
If you want to be counted as an official participant and have the chance to be featured on the blog, post your content during the month of April. You can still use the prompt list after April ends.
I can’t guarantee that every single work will be featured but I’ll try to reblog as many as I can.
To increase your chances of being featured here, tag your post with the event name and the prompt of the day that you used (For example: #whumpril2023, #whumprilday1, #red alert)
You can also @ the blog, @whumpril.
Full write-up of the prompts can be found under the cut!
Keep reading
tw: drugging
a defiant whumpee trying to claw at whumper’s arms in protest as their body reacts to the sedative that was just injected into them. they can only muster aggravated, painful groans and whimpers as whumper cards a hand through their hair.
“shh, my love… don’t fight it,” they whisper, guiding their captive to lay back down.
CW: Blood, Amputation
"From now on, you will do as I say if you value your life." Whumper snarled menacingly.
"I'm nice though, so I'll give you ten chances. Your first order is this: kneel before me."
Whumpee stared defiantly from the floor where they lay crumpled. They sneered at their captor, narrowing their eyes.
"Oh, yes, you're so nice, kidnapping me and everything. Real stand-up behaviour from you there!" They spat, eyes darkening, "I will never follow your commands, you monster."
Whumper's aura of confidence shifted to one of slight frustration, glaring at Whumper like they were a particularly petulant child.
"Fine, you want to test your boundaries? I know mutts like you tend to do that under new masters." They grabbed Whumpee harshly by the wrist, yanking them over to a wooden table hidden in the shadowy corner of the room. There, they strapped Whumpee's hand in place by the wrist, palm down, tightening the leather buckle they used until their captive's flesh burnt red from pressure. They then locked it shut, to prevent any unwanted tampering.
"Ten chances, I suppose one of those would end up being wasted on a learning experience hm?" Whumper mused light-heartedly, rummaging through a storage box next to the table. Whumpee took the time to experimentatively pull against the strap, working the buckle with their hand.
"Oh, I'd move that other hand out of the way if I were you!"
Before Whumpee could fully grasp what that could mean, Whumper spun around, cleaver knife in hand. Quick as a flash they grabbed the little finger on Whumpee's restrained hand, pulled it away from the rest of them, and brough the cleaver down on it with a sickening crunch.
For a second, Whumpee felt nothing. Then, the white hot pain hit them with the force of a truck, and they screamed like a wild animal, their body going limp as they fell to their knees in agony.
Whumper doused the nub left behind in a sterile saline solution, tightly wrapping it in gauze, halting the bleeding. They picked up the quickly cooling amputated finger and crouched down, holding it in Whumpee's face.
"That's one chance gone, ok? I'm sure you understand not to waste the remaining nine."
Whumpee weakly nodded.
the world seems to fade in and out, blood rushing through their ears drowning out the voices around them. it hurts- is all whumpee can think, the pain is setting their body alight and sending stars to dance before their eyes. they’re confused and scared, the world too big and loud for their semi conscious brain to comprehend.
but then, arms are wrapping around their fragile body, settling the shakes that ravage their frame. they panic at first, weakly fighting against whatever new torture this is; but then they hear it, the soft lull of caretaker’s voice. a hand cards through their hair and the rumble of caretakers chest is welcoming as they press against it.
the world is slipping through their fingers now, and whumpee lets their consciousness fade away as they weakly grip onto the back of caretaker’s shirt.
CW: Flashbacks, ptsd mention, past trauma mention, Whumpee guilt
Whumpee sees their face in the bathroom mirror, the overgrown hair, bloodshot eyes, and the bruises that their entire body is covered with.
Just then, some flashbacks from the time they were being tortured come. They remember how the Whumper used to love running their hand through Whumpee's hair.
Suddenly, Whumpee is possessed by the urge to take an electric shaver and they run it over their hair.
They don't stop until all their soft, beautiful locks are lying in clumps next to their bare feet on the bathroom floor.
When Caretaker walks in and sees this, they take away the shaver from Whumpee, because they don't want Whumpee to hurt themselves by mistake.
Caretaker sets down the shaver and turns to Whumpee.
But Whumpee's eyes are cold and empty.
It makes Caretaker worry about them even more.
"What do you think you're doing!" Caretaker screams at the Whumpee.
Whumpee breaks down and drops to the floor, head in their hands.
In their eyes Caretaker can see the torture they are still mentally going through from their time in captivity.
"Why'd you do that, Whumpee?" they ask.
The Whumpee finally raises their head and looks Caretaker in the eye.
"I just ... I just felt like it."
"Then you should have asked me to do it for you!"
"I wanted it gone now! I JUST FUCKING WANTED IT GONE NOW! So leave me alone!"
Caretaker has never felt so helpless.
They crouch down on the floor and look in Whumpee's eyes.
Eyes that used to be vibrant but are lifeless now.
They place a hand on Whumpee's shoulder and speak in a gentle voice. "It's okay," they say to Whumpee, "I understand. Just please let me know first, next time you want to do that? Okay?"
When they hear this, Whumpee grabs Caretaker and pulls him in a tight embrace, on the wet floor of the bathroom and the Caretaker hugs them back.
"I'm sorry, Caretaker! I'm really sorry! I don't know what comes over me sometimes! I know you were only trying to help!"
So, Caretaker tries to calm Whumpee down. "Hey, just relax okay? You're with me now, Whumpee. You hear? Not Whumper! And you'll get used to it, just give it time. Let your body and your mind heal."
Once the Whumpee has calmed down enough, Caretaker helps them up and they take the electric shaver and use it to properly smooth out Whumpee's hair.
Caretaker then sets down the shaver and helps Whumpee take a shower.
Then, they bring fresh clothes to Whumpee and help put them on.
When the Whumpee is freshly showered and clean, Caretaker can see that they are feeling a little better.
So, Caretaker helps Whumpee to the bed.
They give Whumpee their meds and tuck them in.
"Just get some rest, okay?" They say to Whumpee.
Caretaker leans in and kisses Whumpee's forehead.
Whumpee finally closes their eyes and drifts off, finally feeling at peace.
"Shut up!" The whumper kicked the whumpee's shivering form, "stop it. Stop crying- I can't fucking think."
The whumpee lay curled up on the cold hardwood floor, trying to hold in their sobs, "s-sorry."
"Jesus," the whumper rubbed a hand over their eyes, "don't look at me like that."
The whumpee quickly averted their gaze, whimpering softly.
"Now you're acting like I'm the fucking bad guy," they walked over to the whumpee and sat down.
The whumpee drew into themselves, hugging their arms into their chest.
"Stop it," The whumper pushed on their shoulder, forcing them to lay on their back. The whumpee didn't resist, letting themself be moved. They were unable to hold in a light sob.
"Jesus you're fucking dramatic. Just chill out," the whumper threaded their fingers through the whumpee's hair, "you were being annoying ok? And it's not like I fucking stabbed you."
The whumpee nodded weakly as the whumper pet them.
"There's no reason to get all upset, ok?"
"y-yeah, sorry."
Fucking love defiant whumpees who are all bark and no bite, especially when they kick up such a fuss with their whumper, spitting venomous words and promises that they'll never submit...
And all it takes for the cool, level-headed whumper to call their bluff and threaten them with a knife to the throat before whumpee is like a kicked puppy with their tail between their legs, a humiliating reveal to their true self that whumper can't help but rub in
I never really thought about it until I noticed it as a common theme in my work, but I consistently find myself drawn to wet hair as a whump detail. It’s such a small thing, but the aesthetic of a character soaked in sweat as their hair hangs in damp strands over their eyes, or a character drenched to the bone with wet hair clinging to the sides of their face? Unmatched. I can’t quite explain what’s so compelling about it, but I will be using it everywhere…
Injury Prompt #1031
Loss of consciousness
Injury Prompt #1025
whipped on the back
‘Don’t move.’
Whumpee’s brows furrow as they stand in front of the wooden structure nailed to the wall. What’s whumper going to do this time?
‘Back against the wood.’
Whumpee takes a careful step backwards, hoping, if they press hard enough against it, they’ll just disappear.
‘Each time you flinch it’s another lash.’ And with that, whumper drew their knife from their pocket, and threw it.
“What have they done to you?”
Whumpee breaks free from their captors grip - but not from the base they’re held in. They find a small desk against the wall and collapse underneath it, frozen with fear.
They hear footsteps hunting, looking for them, but they have yet to be found.
They don’t dare look, even when whumper’s noises go quiet. Hours pass and they’re paralyzed, the footsteps have changed to not one, but many. Frantic, heavy, with voices shouting their name.
Eventually, the desk gets grabbed and yanked from over them. The atmosphere changes from safe, to a cold wave of dread.
“Whumpee! Whumpee look at me!” A voice shouts. Two hands grab and shake them, trying to get them to uncurl.
“Whumpee it’s me, it’s me. Please look at me, I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me-” Caretaker frantically cries, wrapping them in their arms and pulling them out of the corner. They cradle them in hopes they’ll snap out of it, they can feel whumpee shaking and panting, but still locked away like they’ve dissociated.
“…What… Have they done to you?“
The bidding to choose Whumpee's death had been raging hard for seven days. Now, the countdown to closing was at an end. They strained at their bonds. It was as useless fighting it now as it had been from the beginning. Whatever the rich bastards who won this auction wanted to do to them, they would do. There was no stopping it.
But when Whumper read the email from the winner to themself, the look on their face was one of revulsion - and that terrified Whumpee more than anything that they had seen or heard so far.
"Well," Whumper said, grimacing. "There's no accounting for taste."
Two henchmen came in and Whumpee was unbound for the first time in over a month. Not for long. They were dragged kicking and screaming toward a flat table, strapped on their back to the surface and left helpless once again.
They wailed piteously as Whumper strolled over, a thin rag in one hand and a large, opaque jug in the other.
Whumpee started to sob. They should never have let slip that their fear was suffocation, never because they knew what this meant. They were going to be waterboarded. Drowned where they lay, and because of the cloth, Whumper could do that to them as many times as they wanted.
"Please," Whumpee whimpered. "Please don't waterboard me, please, I-"
Whumper shook their head. "This isn't water."
Whumper popped the cap on the jug and the smell that hit Whumpee's nostrils was unmistakable.
Vanilla extract.
Shove your whumpee against the wall with whumpers arm pressed against their neck. Making Whumpee gasp quietly, fear filling their face as their eyes quickly flutter up to meet Whumper’s.
just read a REALLY cute snowed in fic so now of course i have to make whumpy prompts from that concept heehee hoohoo
cw: intimate whumper, branding, (attempted) abandonment, caretaker whump, burning
cold, shivering whumpee whose only source of warmth is whumper/whumper's blankets, so they have to choose between sleeping on the floor or climbing into bed with whumper
whumper bringing a branding iron over to whumpee to help them "stay warm"
whumper trying to leave whumpee outside in the snow, but whumpee clings to their pants and cries for them not to leave them as they're inadvertently dragged along the ground
a whumpee who ran away, but has no choice but to come back to whumper as the weather gets worse. whumper drapes them in their blankets, puts them next to a fire, and all but invades their personal space as they whisper to them "welcome home."
caretaker who has no qualms about giving whumpee their bed and all of their blankets and suffering in silence as they lay uncovered on the sofa
whumper slamming whumpee against the iron cover of the fireplace, burning their back on it