#100 Whump prompts

[echoingalaxies]

“I will do anything,” Caretaker pleaded from their knees. “Just – don’t hurt him. He’s not your enemy. I am.”

Whumper narrowed his eyes, considering, but did not let go of Whumpee, whom he had pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped around the throat of the defenseless boy, who didn’t have enough life in him to put up a fight anymore. “What do you have to offer?”

“What do you want?” Caretaker stared at Whumper. “My life? My freedom? Let him go and whatever it is you want from me, I will give you without a fight.”

“I want you to suffer,” Whumper spat, fingers tightening around half-conscious Whumpee’s neck. Whumpee’s breaths were becoming more shallow and raspy, and Whumper grinned toothily at the pure panic and desperation on Caretaker’s face. “And what would be a better way to make that happen than through him?”

[blackrosesandwhump]

100 Drabble Challenge: Gothic Whump Edition

The challenge: pick one of the 60 word prompts below and write a short drabble using it!

Faint

Ashen

Candle

Blood

Delirious

Weak

Coughing fit

Vigil

Drugged

Decay

Storm

Castle

Darkness

Dagger

Chains

Mirror

Poison

Forest

Straightjacket

Stabbed

Masquerade

Dungeon

Bandages

Experiment

Monster

Haunted

Insane

Imprisoned

Laboratory

Obsessed

Isolation

Coffin

Restrained

Ritual

Skeleton

Cursed

Buried alive

Hypnosis

Cemetery

Drained of blood

Nails

Cage

Foggy

Terror

Corpse

Scream

Ruins

Afraid

Locked away

Ghost

Midnight

Crypt

Vampire

Demon

Nightmare

Creature

Crumbling

Torture

Dead

Wasting illness

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

"Is it me?"

Whumper paused where they stood, halted in the middle of wiping down their blade. They had left whumpee unconscious in the corner -

Or, at least they thought they were unconscious.

"Is what you, darling?"

"Is... is it.... do you do this because it's me you hurt or because you like to make other people hurt?"

They chuckled softly and walked over, hard soled shoes clacking satisfyingly on the concrete.

"I'm not sure," the murmured, adjusting the length of their dress pants to crouch down. "We can test it out, if you like. Just let me know which one of your friends you propose. Perhaps that sweet little Caretaker you whimper for?"

Whumpee curled back into themselves, away from Whumper's prying eyes.

"No? Well then. I guess we'll have to stay curious."

[whumpster-dumpster]

100 Drabble Challenge: Whump Edition

The Challenge: write a hundred drabbles, exactly 100 words each, for a hundred brief prompts! I’ve seen some of these floating around but not one specifically whump-themed. As such, I’m doing my duty!

Ache

Burn

Cut

Darkness

Faint

Cough

Stranded

Weak

Temperature

Stumble

Chains

Slap

Hunger

Thirst

Tremble

Sob

Hide

Knife

Mockery

Revenge

Gag

Strangle

Pet

Bedridden

Hallucination

Distrust

Ensnare

Blindfold

Sore

Fall

Pinned

Ransom

Escape

Comatose

Shock

Tissues

Bath

Retch

Exposed

Swollen

Bitterness

Left Behind

Shove

Hoarse

Whip

Sweat

Band-Aid

Punishment

Worry

Lies

Bite

Rage

Blurry Vision

Crutches

Stress

Heat

Infection

Dragged

False Smile

Car Trunk

Grudge

Breakdown

Wheeze

Shot

Unsteady

Bedside Manner

Cage

Whimper

Scratch

Threat

Toss and Turn

Lonely

Vertigo

Pale

Buried

Overload

Argument

Painkillers

Pressure

Therapy

Glazed Eyes

Vigil

Cornered

Thrash

Dangling

Gone Wrong

Overworked

Scars

Oxygen

Cold Floor

Tearstains

Terror

Impossible Choice

ER

Bruises

Forced to Watch

Bloodshot

Defiance

Broken

Loss

[fern-writes-whump]

I'm just sitting here, thinking of a terrefied and jittery whumpee that so so desperately needs to get some proper rest. So caretaker offers to cuddle them, make sure they feel safe and comfortable.

Except, whumpee is so touch starved they spend the whole night hyperfocused on the feeling of caretaker's weight near them, and they don't actually get any sleep :]

[nat-1-whump]

Mending spells are for objects, healing spells are for people. That was one of the very first things Whumpee learned from Mentor as a spellcaster. Though they weren't quite sure what caused this difference, they also weren't one to test it. Every spell Mentor taught had been passed down and refined for generations, so Whumpee trusted that they had good reason for emphasizing that such a distinction existed.

Well, at least, they never intended to test Mentor's instructions. Now that they'd tripped and fallen into a ditch full of jagged rocks while looking for spell components in the woods, they were considering it as an option.

A boulder scraped against them on the way down, leaving a thick red streak of blood along the edge of the ditch. They groaned as they lay on their side. Each frantic, shallow breath sent a wave of stabbing pain through their body, undoubtedly because of a broken rib or two. As their mind stopped spinning, they realized they were clutching at a large gash that ran across their stomach.

They pushed themself into a sitting position, still cradling their stomach. "Mmnh... Somebody. H-help! Please!" Tears ran down their cheeks, stinging the cuts that dashed across.

Moments passed, yet there was no response. Whumpee began to try to call out again, but they were taken by a coughing fit and fell onto their back. They winced, feeling blood spatter from their lips.

Whumpee cursed themself for using up their one health potion earlier in the day on a stupid scraped knee. And then foolishly separating from the rest of their party, which was surely hours down the path by now. They hadn't even properly learned how to cast a healing spell, one of the more difficult spells to learn, thinking that carrying around a potion meant they wouldn't have to.

At this point, even if a mending spell wasn't specifically meant to heal, they figured it had to be better than nothing. And they knew it well, having used it to repair things countless times. They closed their eyes in an effort to calm themself enough to focus. They took a shaky breath, rested one hand above their stomach and clutched their spell focus with the other, and whispered the spell.

A soft light shone from Whumpee's palm. It flickered for a moment before fading away. Whumpee propped themself up on their elbow to look, only to find that the wound continued to flow steadily, coating their fingers with sticky blood. Nothing had changed. They sank to the ground again, defeated, when they felt a warm tingling sensation across their skin.

A scream tore through their throat as their flesh started to warp, twisting into strips and sprawling across the wound like vines. The pain left them writhing on the ground and choking on splintered cries.

"... Ple-please... It hurts! Make it stop!" They weren't sure to who or what they were calling, but it didn't matter. Every desperate plea went unanswered in the empty forest, as the magic continued its work undisturbed. Whumpee sobbed with each surge of pain. Every movement sent a sharp, burning pain from their wound, but they couldn't hold still, not like this.

Finally, the pain slowed down to a dull, throbbing sensation. Whumpee shuddered and carefully pulled themself back onto their elbows to look. The wound didn't look much better than before, other than having some rough strands of flesh stretched across as if it had been clumsily sewn over with rope. At the very least, it seemed like the spell had pulled the wound shut by a little bit and slowed the bleeding.

Whumpee stared up at the sky. Though they'd left in the bright afternoon, the sky was now fading to a warm purple, speckled with a few faint stars. If this was the best they could heal themself, they had no better choice than to wait and hope someone found them, and soon.

[tofuwildcard]

Whump: The Musical Day 8 || Hadestown || Doomed Narrative

[shes-some-other-where]

“I don’t have regrets.”

Contains: humiliation, inspection, prison, defiant whumpee (almost), chains

“And you, boy?”

He was the last one waiting for inspection. The acrid tang of humiliation crawled up his throat, coated his tongue, as the overseer stood before him with a slowly widening smile as the telltale rattle of chain-links gave him away for the trembling coward he was.

The overseer’s blue eyes swept over his shorn hair and bruised face. “End of your first week. Learned anything?”

He nodded.

“Regretting the choices that landed you here?” The overseer plucked a burr from his uniform, tutting.

He ground out, “I don’t have regrets, sir.”

The overseer smirked. “Perhaps not yet.”

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

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All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[weirdstrangeandawful]

Ways to reveal a character’s lost feeling in a limb:

shoot it

[whumpasaurus101]

Whumpee let out a sob as they flopped on their matress. They wanted to get out. They needed to get out. Whumper's heavy fist banged on the door, "Open up, none of these childish games!!"

Whumpee sobbed harder, "No!" They sobbed. "Whumpee, I swear-" They took a deep breath, "Open the door now and I won't hurt you."

Whumpee's head slowly perked up, “Pr-promise?” Their shaking hand hovered over the lock.

"Promise," Came a gentle voice, instantly calming Whumpee as they turned the lock. The second the door opened, Whumpee was slammed against the mirror by their throat, the back of their head erupted in pain, feeling the glass behind them shatter.

Whumpee gasped, "I-I'm sorry! Ple-please-" "Quiet," Whumper growled, their hand tightening against the other's throat, "You know how much I hate repeating myself. Now, state rule twenty seven."

Whumpee flinched as they wheezed out, "N-no locked d-d'rs..." "No locked doors," Whumper hummed, and what did you do?"

Whumpee sobbed out, "ple-plea-" "Not the answer I was looking for."

"I lo-locked the door, 'm sorry!!!" Whumper nodded before speaking after a moment, "Oho, you will be."

[pixelatedraindrops]

Okay lemme be real with you all.

I LOVE it when someone touches someone else's cheek to check their temperature. Sooo good and sooo tender 💕 One of my top favorite prompts when it comes to an illness scene.🌡️

So I had to make a quick edit of this. Poor Yuma tries too hard...😞 At least there's a sensible adult in the room to tell him so. (and even his death god partner thinks he's pushing it)

A scenario of Yuma about to leave the agency, but Yakou KNOWS something's wrong. The trainee looks tired, he’s panting a little, and his face is tinted red. So he stops him, walks up to him, and puts his hand to his cheek to check.

And turns out, he was spot on.

Yuma tries to deny it, but Yakou ain’t havin’ it.

Then he IMMIEDATELY puts him to rest. Practically pushing him onto the couch (it only takes one hand like what is yuma gonna do lol)

I like to believe Yakou’s like a worried mother hen for his agency's staff. Panicking as a first-time caretaker in years. ESPECIALLY with Yuma since he's very likely the frailest of the bunch. (he's a father now :3)

Shinigami tries to help in her own way too

Yay for duo caretaking >w<💕💊

(...yes I know its the SAME freaking couch edit template here I'm sorry, ITS ALL I HAVE OKAY? LEAVE ME ALONE X’D)

[awfulwhumpsideblog]

“Am I a burden?” Whumpee asked.

Caretaker thought about it for a moment. “You are. But you’re one I choose to carry.”

[blackrosesandwhump]

Double Drabble Challenge: Gothic Lab Whump!

Thanks to a suggestion from @anightmarishwhump, I'm starting a drabble challenge that combines two kinds of whump, Gothic and lab!

Pick a word from each of the two lists below and write a drabble using them. Feel free to do 200 words instead of the usual 100, since it's a double challenge.

100 Drabble Challenge: Lab Whump Edition

100 Drabble Challenge: Gothic Whump Edition

Tag me, and I'll reblog your piece!

Have fun!

[faofinn]

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am’’ 

Fao had been working flat out. Surgical training was no joke, the hours were long and the shifts gruelling. He wasn’t long back from his first tour, which had been amazing, but tiring, and now he was back to the rigours of the wards in Birmingham. 

He’d not slept much that night, struggling with the changeover from night shifts to days, and he was looking forwards to getting home and to his bed. But that was a distant prospect now, he had a shift to work, even if he was falling asleep into his handover sheet. 

He had a headache brewing, and had just rested his head on the desk for a second, just to breathe, that was all. 

“Blackwood!” 

The shout startled him, sitting up quickly. He must’ve dozed off. Shit. 

A glance at his phone told him he was ten minutes late to the morning handover. Well, that was why he was being yelled at then. 

“Sorry, Sir.” He said quickly, grabbing his stuff. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

He managed to get through his meeting, though it was a struggle, and then it was straight to theatres. A mix of military and civilian patients, it certainly kept him busy, and he was shattered by the time it got to his break. He slipped out for a smoke, but it didn’t really help the headache, and he swung by the emergency department on his way back in to grab some chocolate, hoping that might help, along with the energy drink he’d shoved in his locker. 

Harrison had been on shift when Fao passed through. He went to call over to him when he saw the state of him. His frown deepened, notes forgotten, he stood, padding over to Fao.

"Wolfie?"

“Mm? Hey, Tomcat.” Fao said softly. 

"You look like shit."

“Charming as ever.”

"Are you feeling alright?" He rested a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, just a headache, you know how it is.” He murmured. “Got a bollocking for nearly missing handover this morning and I’ve only just got out of theatre.”

"Come sit down with me?" Harrison couldn't shake the worry.

“I’ve not got long.”

"Yeah, I know."

“Five minutes, whilst I eat this chocolate.” He said, caving all too easily. 

"Good." He grinned, leading the way.

He followed Harrison tiredly, dragging a hand through his hair. If his head would just stop pounding, he could cope with the tiredness. But he could barely think straight. 

"I'm sure we've got a spare treatment room."

“I’m not that bad.” He grumbled. 

"I know." He lied. "Just for some peace."

“Staff room’s fine, it’s only five minutes.”

"Nah, come on. This way."

“I don’t need a treatment room.” He protested, but didn’t have the energy to argue. 

Harrison pushed open the door, hopping up onto the bed. "How's today been, then?"

“Busy.” He said with a sigh, sitting next to Harrison. He used his teeth to open his chocolate wrapper, before offering Hars a square. 

Harrison took it gratefully. "Thanks. You look like you've not slept in a week."

“I feel like it.” He murmured, breaking off a piece for himself. “I did the overnight on call all of last week and it was so busy it’s killed me off. Feel like I’ve not been able to get enough sleep in between shifts, and now I’ve changed to days and it’s just as busy.”

"Been dizzy?"

“Occasionally.” He admitted. “But sod off, I’m just dehydrated with low blood sugar, so’s half the hospital.”

Harrison hummed. "Sure, sure. And how bad is the headache?" 

“Like someone is hammering a nail into my brain.”

"Any visual changes?"

“Stop doctoring and let me be miserable for five minutes.” He grumbled, eating another piece of chocolate. 

"I need an answer." He nudged him, reaching to steal another square. "What about feeling sick?"

“No visual changes but my dyslexia’s worse because I’m tired.” He said, resting his head on Harrison’s shoulder. “Bit of nausea, but the sugar is helping.”

Harrison wrapped an arm around him. "Any auras?"

“Mm, no.”

"Anything else you're not telling me?"

“I just can’t think straight.” He admitted. “I need a holiday, for fuck’s sake.”

"Can I do a set of obs on you?"

“No, because if they’re shit I can’t go back to work and I need to go back to work because I’ve already gotten in the shit this morning.”

"All the more reason I want to do some."

“I told my consultant five minutes for a smoke and something to eat.”

"I'm worried about you." He admitted. "I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason, I am."

“I’m fine, I’ve got a drink upstairs and I’ll sit and do some notes.”

"Please?"

“I should’ve gone to the vending machines outside theatres.” He huffed. “Fine. Make it quick.”

"You know we've got the best shit down here." He grinned, hopping off the bed. "I'll be quick. Sorry, the cuff's cold."

“I know, that’s why I came down. And it was on my way back.” He’d been hoping to bump into Harrison, admittedly, but not to be fussed over and bothered. He’d fancied five minutes to rant, that was all. “You’re not getting any more of my chocolate, though.” 

"Rude. I'll live."

He had another square, letting it melt in his mouth as Harrison fussed. His bleep hadn’t gone off yet, which was a relief, because the way it had been squealing at him all morning really hadn’t been helping things. “You better.”

"Mhmm." He hummed, watching the machine. "Can you stand up a sec for me?"

“I’m comfy.” He protested. 

"Please?"

“I know what you’re trying to do.” He complained, but stood up. His back was aching - his table hadn’t been high enough for his last case, and he was paying for it.

"Okay, you can sit." He pulled out his pen torch. "Stare at my nose, just gonna shine a light in your eyes."

Fao sat gratefully, ignoring how his head span. “No, c’mon, you said a set of obs, and I even went so far as to give you the standing BP. Enough, I need to go back to work.”

"No." Harrison was firm. "You're not. Not a chance."

“I’m tired and dehydrated, it can’t be that bad.”

"You're still not going back to work. I want you admitted."

“Leave off.” He protested. “I’ll go home, if you insist, but I don’t need admitting. It’s a headache.”

"Surely you'd feel better with some pain relief? Antiemetics? Please, it's for your own benefit."

“Chuck a couple of paracetamol at me and I’ll get Alex to take me home.”

"No." 

Fao was about to argue when his bleep went off, and he winced. “Time’s up, I need to get that.” He said, frowning at the number on the screen. 

Harrison pulled out his own phone, taking the bleep from Fao. "Yeah, I'm overruling you on that one."

“Tomcat!” He protested. “Let me call them back?”

"I said no." Harrison’s voice was uncharacteristically hard. "I'm calling them, you're gonna lie back on the bed and let me do my job."

He stepped back, deliberately out of Fao's reach, and dialled the number. Fao's observations weren't terrible, but they were enough to worry him, especially with how shit his friend looked. He didn't really care if Fao hated him for it; he couldn't, in good conscience, let him continue working when he was so obviously struggling so much. 

He huffed, but his headache was much too bad to really give too much protest. He wasn’t going after Harrison, at any rate. He shuffled his bum back on the bed, swung his legs up and kicked his shoes off, feeling better for it almost instantly, though he’d never admit it. Guilt flared, knowing he was supposed to be busy, but Harrison making decisions meant it had been taken somewhat out of his hands, which he appreciated. Leaning back against the back of the bed he let his eyes close, listening to Hars on the phone. 

"Hi, it's Dr Harrison from ED? No, you paged Blackwood, not me, that's right. Yeah, he's not coming back up, I'm admitting him." He kept his voice low, aware it wouldn't be helping Fao. "Honestly? You should be ashamed of yourself that you let him keep working. Anyone could see he wasn't well, I could tell a mile off. Go ahead, it's Harrison Cunningham, I don't care. Thanks, bye now."

“Harrison!” Fao hissed, reaching to throw a pillow at him. 

"Hey, you'll need that. It's a luxury around here." He teased, passing it back. "I'll go grab you a blanket and get you booked in, too. Then I'll send someone across and we'll get some treatment sorted, yeah?"

“You’re an ass.” 

"I know." There was a hint of pride behind his tone. 

Fao rolled his eyes, but tucked his pillow back under his head. “I should call them.”

Harrison laughed. "You sound like every drunk girl on a Saturday night. Get some rest."

“Get me a cup of tea?”

"Sir, yes, sir." He teased. "I'll be right back."

“If you’re gonna admit me you could at least get me a cup of tea. Might as well milk it.”

"Might as well make the most of it. Want me to call Alex? Sheila?"

“Don’t bother Sheila, but call Alex? You can doctor at her.”

"Alright, I'll do that while I'm getting your tea, yeah?" He said softly. "I'll send a nurse through."

“Thanks.” He said, rolling onto his front to bury his face in the pillow. 

Harrison hummed, shutting the door quietly behind him. He grabbed one of the nurses, smiling sweetly and apologising for the extra work. He then had the fun job of calling Alex, so scrolled through before pressing dial, heading to the staff room for the good tea.

Alex had been enjoying her day off, having taken the dog for a long walk that morning. Now he was napping, and she’d been watching some TV when her phone rang. She should’ve been studying, but of course she wasn’t, and she reached for her phone. 

“Harrison?” 

"I'm at work, you can't yell at me. But, I may have just admitted Fao?"

“I can definitely still yell at you. What’s happened? Is he okay?”

"He's got a migraine, don't think he's been sleeping. His obs aren't terrible, but honestly? He looks like shit. Got yelled at this morning, apparently, for falling asleep before handover. That's not like him."

“He didn’t sleep last night.” Alex agreed. “How bad is ‘not terrible’?”

"Fluids worthy but not resus?"

She sighed. “He’s such an ass. He’s been struggling for days with his sleep.”

"I'd say maybe he'd learn from this, but I know better."

“He definitely won’t. He needs to sort his mental health out again, keep an eye on him?”

"Don't we all?" He sighed. "You know I will. I'm just making him a cuppa, he's had some chocolate, but I'll get him something proper to eat."

“Thank you. Are you expecting to get him discharged in a couple of hours?”

"Depends how he behaves."

She laughed at that. “Yeah, true.”

"Are you wanting to come in?"

“If I can, yeah. I’ll kick his ass.”

"Cool, I'll let him know."

“Look after him, yeah? He’s trying to be a hard ass but he’s been really struggling.”

Harrison softened. "Of course I'll look after him. He's got me worried about him."

“Glad you’re looking out for him. I won’t be long, let him know I’m on my way.”

"I will. Drive safe."

“Always.” She murmured, and said her goodbyes before she hung up, grabbing some stuff for Fao.

When she arrived, he was on his side in the bed, though sipping the tea Harrison had brought him. He looked worse than he had done when he’d left the house that morning, but the smile he offered her as she appeared had her anger and worry evaporating like mist in the morning sun. 

“You daft shite.” She said, settling next to him and running a hand through his hair. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know.” He murmured. “Sit wit’ me properly?”

She was always a soft touch for him, and so she settled on the bed properly. Fao sat up as she did so, putting his tea down, and then laid back down again, his head in her lap. They’d already given him antiemetics, and he had fluids running, which were making him feel better, but Alex there was certainly doing the hard work. Her fingers carding through his hair, he was asleep in minutes, warm and safe.

[c-c-cherry]

Area hysteria is amazing for so so so so many reasons and one of them is that even if Reigen survives everyone is coming out of this traumatized. (Headcanon that after this Reigens gonna be seriously claustrophobic, though that might be canon and I forgot because it's been a while and I have a comically bad memory but still)

Oh you are so right anon everyone will be traumatized no matter the outcome. My favourite type of whump/hurt scenarios are the ones that leave everyone scathed, even if they weren't part of the direct hit. With comfort at the end, of course. Considering I have promised sweet comfort in the tags, I think it's safe to say that our man is gonna (somehow) make it out of this. I won't let him die!

If people end up wanting it, I've got an aftermath sequel already in the brainstorming process that DOES touch up on a lot of post-fic ideas and details that I want to explore that I think needs a little bit of a time skip to address or might not make the cut to Area Hysteria. Claustrophobia after the fact would make a lot of sense. I don't think(??) that's a canon fact but harnessing that opportunity in a scenario like this would be delicious.

Other potential post-traumatic effects I've conjured up already for poor old Reigen:

Some form of dissociation when faced with danger (or what his brain registers as danger) as an attempt to reconstruct the feeling of the mindscape

Being alone. Things getting too quiet. Especially in an empty or nearly-empty room

Moments where he can't tell if he's grounded in reality or if this is his brain projecting memories. Inducing pain to find out since life in the mindscape was physically painless

Temporary or long-lasting nerve damage (this WILL make sense once the fic is finished)

Even the SLIGHTEST thought of going to visit an old building again for a job

Some kind of addiction or withdrawal to the sensation of being possessed

Pseudo or panic-induced chest pain and breathing problems

And last but not least, of course, the instigator that got me thinking about a sequel in the first place:

An extremely adverse reaction to a certain ringtone.

Yeah, yeah, I know. "Cherry!! The recovery chapters are just now starting to happen and you're already thinking of how to hurt him after the fic is done!!" I've heard it ALL BEFORE.

Enough of my rambling. Once Area Hysteria is over and everything finally feels okay for our espers (and non-esper) once again, what would you all like to see in a potential sequel?

[scattered-winter]

might temporarily put quintenary stars on hold because ngl. I am eyeing febuwhump SOOO hard rn