smthnsmthn-whumpblog

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I love whumpees that are whumpees despite nothing happening to them. No injury, no enemy, no obvious trauma. Just their body and/or mind betraying them for the hell of it.

Sometimes what usually is the aftermath of whump is the whump itself, and I'd like to see more of that. Especially with whumpees that have mental illness just because they're mentally ill. There doesn't always need to be trauma to cause them, sometimes it just happens.

Sometimes whumpee's biggest demon is themself.

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A character whose actions are inherently aggressive, but done with a smile on their face. Hitting someone across the face while laughing. Pinning someone down with a sneer. Just totally assured in their ability to hurt others - and having a good time doing it

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I see your "Whumpee sedated against their will" And raise you "Whumpee needing to get a painful procedure done without any pain meds or sedation"

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a beloved pet licking whumpee's scars

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The signs of relief after an intense wave of pain where they lean their head back and cover their eyes, blocking out the world as they let themself come back down to earth. The loud, repeated exhales as if they can force the pain out of their body faster the harder they breathe. The breathy almost-moans that quiver with the relief. They way they relax but not too much for fear that even that movement might set everything off again. The painfully long time it takes them to even care that there is a world around them.

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Emotional damage: "I hurt you."

Identity damage: "You exist to be hurt."

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Y'all, cardiac monitors are annoying. They beep for a reason. They beep for no reason. They stay silent until you're just about to fall asleep for the first time in more than 40 hours, then suddenly they beep again!!! Just because they hate you!!! And god forbid you want to get comfortable with those wires attached to you. Wriggle? They disconnect. Twitch? They're gone. Breathe? They've had enough. Bye bye. But wait! They won't leave without a parting gift... of more fucking beeping. And the sticky pads that the wires are supposed to connect to? You will be finding those for days. Just when you think you've peeled them all off... boom, there's another! They're everywhere! Like glitter! But worse because they're massive and obvious and in very specific locations that you should be fully aware of yet somehow you always find one every time you change your clothes.

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Manic whumpee

I see a lot of depression and exhaustion in whump (which I love, don't get me wrong) but I want to see some of the opposite too.

Give me whumpees that are manic. Whumpees that are high. Whumpees that are buzzing with euphoric energy, pacing — no, running — up and down because everything is going a thousand miles an hour and they have to keep up or they'll explode. Talking constantly but never finishing their sentences as their train of thought bounces off mental walls until they ricochet to their next, completely unrelated point with no idea how they got there. Spending in excess; reckless drinking, driving, and sex; trying to learn French, bake the Eiffel tower out of croquembouche, and master the piano all at once when the impulse strikes at three in the morning.

Then give me the depression. The crash and the devastation as the rose-tinted glasses shatter and Whumpee is suddenly faced with the mess. The debt; the crashed car; the bills; the broken relationships and the relapses Whumpee thought didn't count because they were having fun. And they don't have the energy to fix it because they spent it all by causing the damage.

(And don't forget the onlooker's reactions. Caretaker's brow knitting tighter as Whumpee burns brighter — is this new behaviour for Whumpee, or has it happened before? Does that impact how much Caretaker worries? Do they worry more if it's never happened before because what the hell is going on? Or is it scarier if Caretaker has seen it all before and knows exactly how it could end?

Reactions from the team — do they think Whumpee is acting like this on purpose, or do they accuse Whumpee of being on drugs, making Whumpee defensive and upset because nobody believes that they are sober (is Whumpee actually sober, or are they just scared of the consequences if they admit the truth?)

The awkward laughs and smiles from strangers in public as Whumpee strikes up a conversation, not sure how to react to Whumpee's energy. Or the people that are excited by Whumpee and think they're great fun, until the fun doesn't stop and they grow tired, leaving Whumpee stranded as they're still buzzing but their great source of stimulation has been taken away.

What about Whumper's reaction? The encouragement shown to Whumpee's risky decisions; endorsement of activities that will put Whumpee in harm's way, all so Whumper can watch Whumpee dance with death for entertainment, then offer Whumpee support and care so Whumpee will never think to leave. They see Whumpee's state as a weakness and an opportunity to take advantage of Whumpee, as Whumpee is too drunk on their own brain chemistry to see the warning signs until it's too late.)

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hey so imagine whumpee gets wounded and caretaker listens to their heartbeat to check if they're alive - and of course caretaker's relief of hearing the gentle thump, thump, thump of whumpee's heart overtakes any fear in that moment, regardless of how weak the heartbeat sounds, or how it wavers and stutters as whumpee tries to get up, or even how it seems to hammer at any touch or whispered words of comfort. it's panic all the way down, but it's a sign of life, and that's all that matters. everything's fine.

and then time has passed, the situation is handled, everything's fine, and caretaker is resting next to whumpee, and they hear whumpee's heartbeat. suddenly caretaker is back in the aftermath, their hands covered in whumpee's blood, listening for a sign of life that they don't know will be there. whumper's hold on whumpee persists in that thunderous drumming of the heart. even in moments of calm, whumpee's heartbeat is no longer a steady metronome, but a death knell that won't stop ringing.

heartbeats as a source of comfort. heartbeats as a source of ticking-time-bomb dread about one's own mortality. or something.

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characters that found each other in captivity and one cracked more than the other. they wouldn’t hurt you and not hurt me so together we’re safe. as long as you’re within my sights i can stay in one piece. even afterwards. hold my hand. let me feel the heat of it against my palm. let me duck behind you and grab your shirt. i won’t care if you’re shaking too. or crying. i swear i don’t mind. i understand. and i promise i won’t bother you and i’ll be good and i’d never do anything you wouldn’t like. just don’t leave.

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i. love. characters that are so paranoid and distrustful of others pushing past that distrust because of a raw desire for connection and affection

knowing logically that they're safest if they isolate themselves, but on the inside, so badly wanting to just be with someone who cares

every touch for years has brought pain, but someone offers a hug and their heart is torn in two, half of them retreating to avoid it and half of them wanting desperately for it to be real

the human equivalent of an abused rescue animal finally letting their new person pet them

that crack in their defenses, that step off the edge of total shut-down safety, that last scrap of hope left saying one last try

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love the idea of a caretaker having vicarious trauma from being so wrapped up in supporting whumpee, or a caretaker spiraling after whumpee goes missing, or a carewhumpee struggling in their own way after going through something awful with whumpee, etc, and needing their own caretaker to help them through it. Just a network of blorbos being there for each other through The Horrors

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TW: seizure

We all love the trope of a character ripping their shirt/jumper off to stop another character’s bleeding. But may I add… a character ripping their shirt/jumper off to use as padding between another characters head and the floor or other solid object as they have a seizure.

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Prompts - Field Medicine

No pain medication. No anesthesia. No speciality tools. No antibiotics.

Sewing up a wound with a needle and fishing line, praying against fate that infection doesn’t set in.

Splinting a sprain with a stripped up shirt wrapped around a semi-straight branch.

Having a bone set and having to stay extremely still so as to not have the bones slip back apart.

Picking out fractured bone or bullet fragments with nothing but bloody fingers and hope.

Splashing alcohol into an already festering wound, hoping it will buy just a little more time before sepsis hits.

Belts wound around an artery so tight it hurts more than the bleeding injury itself.

Cauterizing a gash with a rusty metal rod hot enough to use as a brand.

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Something about a character who’s supposed to get hurt. Their role is to be a shield, to take the hits so that others don’t have to. And it’s not just in their head, it’s a fact that everyone understands. A job that everyone expects them to be able to do.

Does it leak into their personal life? Maybe they’re meticulous with their health and training, taking perfect obsessive care of themselves so that they’ll never fail in their duty. Maybe they let it all go, keeping themselves at base functionality because what’s a little hunger, a little strain, a bruise or scrape, in the face of the pain that they have to bear every day.

They never ask for help. They know better, have learned from all the times they’ve broken and called out begging for it only to be met with blank stares. They should be able to handle it, who are they if they can’t handle this one thing?

Someone who’s a glass canon in human skin.

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I keep thinking about some sort of alien species that get their hands on whumpee and decide to see how they work, they strap them down and start taking samples of tissue and blood etc., but the thing that's stuck in my head the most... they intubate whumpee.

They dial in the exact amount of oxygen whumpee needs to "function", whumpee unable to draw their own breath, beginning to panic as their vision starts to fade at the edges before they suddenly get a single rush of air flooding their lungs, but only one, until they start to panic and fade again and then another single rush of air. The aliens decide that must be enough to keep a human alive, why would they need more?

Whumpee's lungs are screaming and their blood feels like it's buzzing under their skin and little pieces of their flesh are being snipped away and it hurts and their tears are being collected for examination along with the saliva slipping out from the side of their mouth and the sweat beading up on their skin.

Anyways! Just a pretty thought I wanted to share!

[smthnsmthn-whumpblog]

i. love. characters that are so paranoid and distrustful of others pushing past that distrust because of a raw desire for connection and affection

knowing logically that they're safest if they isolate themselves, but on the inside, so badly wanting to just be with someone who cares

every touch for years has brought pain, but someone offers a hug and their heart is torn in two, half of them retreating to avoid it and half of them wanting desperately for it to be real

the human equivalent of an abused rescue animal finally letting their new person pet them

that crack in their defenses, that step off the edge of total shut-down safety, that last scrap of hope left saying one last try