#fantasy whump

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Armored whump

- The heavy clunk of a Whumpee in armor brought to their knees.

- A sword slammed into the ground in an attempt to keep themself from falling right over.

- Arms trembling as they try to keep themself up, the weight of their armor pushing them further down, bearing on their bruises.

- They're already succumbing to gravity. They're panting, barely holding on, leaning heavily on their sword, or their staff, their lance.

- Making the effort to use it to push themself to their feet again, pulling the sword back out of the ground, swooshing their lance as they find the strength for another round.

- The sound of a sword clanking against stone when it's twirled out of their grip or when they no longer have the strength to hold it.

- A sword kicked away. Or worse, a heavy boot crunching down on it just as Whumpee manages to close a hand around the hilt.

- The soft clinking sounds of defeat drawing nearer when the enemy approaches slowly, fully aware Whumpee is already defeated. Metal crunches with each step. Armor jingles with his soft movements, when he crouches down in front of Whumpee.

- The tip of a sword scratching along over metal, teasing over their chest plates until it finally finds the weak spot of the armor and slowly pushes through.

- Also, armor is heavy :) Give me exhausted armored characters, dragging themself along. They are supposed to stay ahead of the rest, be their shield... but every battle and by now every step has been wearing on them. And it won't take long before they'll just collapse.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Imagine a spoiled royal, heir to the throne, part of a powerful bloodline that gives them "divine right to rule". They're raised to be cruel, and told their heritage puts them above everyone else.

And then one day, it's revealed before the entire court that it's all a lie. The royal was switched at birth with the child of a servant. The real heir has been serving in the palace all this time, unaware of their birthright. Maybe they're even someone the faux-royal had been particularly cruel to all their lives.

The ruling family is quick to push out the false heir---blood is more important to them than any illusion of family---and welcome the servant with open arms.

Maybe the false heir is banished from the kingdom they were raised to rule. Maybe they're imprisoned so the truth can never come out. Maybe they're made a servant, now at the beck and call of someone they'd thought beneath them.

Does the true heir take pity on them, or do they seek vengeance from years of abuse? Does the royal family have any regrets, or have they always been cold, only concerned with holding power? What do the servants and commoners do, now that the arrogant "heir" has lost all power and protection?

[avvail-whumps]

I’m just thinking about a vampire hunter who lost their arm. They replace it with a prosthetic one made out of silver. Imagining the pain when they grab a vampire, or pin them down by their neck while their skin burns under the silver and there’s nothing they can do because it hurts so much. Fingers desperately trying to find something other than the arm to grab onto to try and pry them off.

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee is fighting Whumper with a group of their friends. Whumpee and Whumper fight one on one and Whumper pins Whumpee down. They don't understand what is happening at first, but then Whumper pushes their palm against Whumpee's head. It starts with burning, then screaming, then the world goes dark. Whumper removes their hand and Whumpee has a mind control rune on their forehead.

"Stand up." Whumpee obeys Whumper's command. With a snap of their fingers, Whumper points to Whumpee's friends. "Kill them."

[redstainedsocks]

I know there's a well loved niche for royal whump, but lately I've been thinking a lot about royal *guard* whump.

Hurt for being loyal to the old king, punished for doing the thing they were trained to do. Grief-struck at the loss of their fellow guards in combat. Guilt at failing at their most important task: protecting the heart of kingdom.

[whumperofworlds]

A Whumpee protects Caretaker from a threat by using all of their magic at once. All of them powerful. When the threat is gone, Whumpee collapses in Caretaker's arms, much to Caretaker's shock and worry.

Whumpee has been out for a few days, and when they wake up, they see Caretaker, asleep in the chair next to Whumpee's bed, holding their hand.

[loonybun]

hooks as restraints, digging under the skin. I think this works particularly well for merfolk whump. If you wanna be really mean, maybe have them hang by the hook. Even if they’re perfectly still, the wound will still grow worse. If they struggle, they’ll just create more pain for themselves. I’ve literally never seen this done before but god i need it asap

[erdarielthewhumper]

A fun whump aesthetic: a character being helped out of heavy plate armor

Is it done fast, blood-slick fingers pulling at straps and hastily undoing buckles, the pieces thrown carelessly aside to be picked up later, time is running out and they need to get all that metal out of the way to treat the wound underneath?

Or slowly, gently, telling the character that shh, they can rest now, they've done their part and done it well, others will take it from here?

Harshly, on a captured enemy knight, forcibly stripping them of first their weapons and then their armor as they're fighting back tooth and nail, to put them in chains afterwards, vulnerable without their armor in the light, sweat-drenched shirt and arming jacket and breeches they wear underneath?

[shshshquietnow]

I'm a big fan of angels and demons in whump, especially angel whumpees with demon whumpers. A demon obsessed with getting this divine perfection to break, and an angel having to stare in the face of something they've been told horror stories of since childhood.

But something I don't see used a lot is FALLEN angel whumpees, which I think have a lot to use. No one's coming for them, maybe they're weaker than before, they've been forsaken, they're maybe a bit spunkier, maybe already a little broken... they're great material to mold and mesh.

Or even fallen angel WHUMPERS, ones with nothing to lose, bitter and hurt... fallen angels walk around, showing the world with just their wings they've done something to piss off the heavens. Who WOULDNT be scared being taken caprice by one?!

[inevitable-pretty-words]

Content – intimate whumper, hero x villain, villain with magical powers, fantasy whump, psychological whump, memory alteration, forced submission, dub-con kissing

"I'll probably have to erase your memories. Just as a precaution" Villain's calm voice rang out in the small room as he paced back and forth, not even looking at Hero.

"You're joking right?!"

Hero didn't want his voice to sound so hysterical. He also didn't want to endure Villain's serious look any longer, which only made him more aware of what a terrible situation he was in.

His eyes lingered on random objects, desperately searching for a way out. But he didn't find it. The Villain was blocking his path to the door and Hero realized painfully that there was no chance of getting past him and escaping through the narrow corridor. Not when he's like this. Not now. The only exit was the window he was standing next to. His heart skipped a beat as he thought about what this meant for him, but still, against all reason, his hand slowly moved towards the window handle.

"I don't advise it. You'll break your legs. And then I will come down to you and erase your memories anyway. You will only suffer unnecessarily" Villain said in an almost completely indifferent tone of voice, but there was a hint of concern in it.

Hero snorted, even though he knew Villain was right. And he hated him for it. He also hated the concern in his voice. As if he ever cared about his life and happiness.

"So I should just let you do it, right? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?!" Hero didn't want to scream, not again. But he couldn't help but be overcomed with emotions.

Villain stopped and looked at him for the first time since the incident.

"Yes. That will be better. For you. For me. I don't want to fight."

Villain continued to maintain his mask of indifference, and Hero hated the fact that he couldn't read his true emotions. He would have preferred anger because it was predictable, but now he had no idea what to expect.

"There must be another way. Anything else. I can stay silent and pretend I didn't see anything, I can..."

Villain interrupted him with a joyless laugh.

"We both know it won't work. You'll open your dirty mouth and blurt everything out at the end. Or worse, you'll try to help me. I won't let you do this." With each word, Villain got closer to Hero, who could no longer move back, pressed against the wall. He glanced out the window again, but quickly shook his head. The consequences would be too great.

So he risked looking into Villain's eyes and saw no uncertainty in them. He swallowed.

"I could at least try..." his voice was quieter this time, more shaky due to Villain's proximity. Great.

"Would you like to continue pretending to be a hero? It didn't work out last time."

Hero grimaced at the reference to recent events, but did not comment on his words, refusing to be provoked.

There was a sudden tension in the air, full of heavy memories that each of them preferred to keep silent for now.

“So you can see that I have no other choice, my dear,” Villain said after a long moment, breaking the silence.

Something about the way he said that endearment made Hero's heart skip a beat, but he quickly came to his senses, remembering his threat.

"You're an escapist, you know? You would do anything to avoid the consequences, to start over..."

Instead of the expected anger, Hero saw only calmness in Villain, with a hint of amusement at his feeble attempts to distract him to escape.

"What's wrong with escapism, hmm?" he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind Hero's ear.

Hero shuddered, his thoughts made no sense, and for a moment he focused only on the touch on his cheek, on the warmth of Villain's hand, on the knowledge that if only the situation was different, he could kiss him here and now.

"Don't try to avoid it," Villain whispered tenderly into his ear, aware of the effect it was having on him. "Just give up. Submit. It'll hurt you less than if I had to force you to do it."

But I don't want to have my memories deleted, Hero wanted to say, but the prepared words disappeared from his head as soon as Villain ran his hand through his hair. Hero sighed.

Villain suddenly pulled away to look into his eyes. Hero closed it in a sudden panic.

"What exactly do you want to delete? How many days?" he managed to say in a trembling voice.

"Just today," Villain assured him, smiling. "Removing more memories would affect you too much. And we don't want that, right?"

Hero just nodded, not noticing the strange gleam in Villain's eyes.

"And if you're going to forget anyway..." Villain approached him again and kissed him gently on the lips.

Hero had no idea what had just happened. His heart was racing and he felt that his cheeks were completely red. He kept repeating the question in his mind: why, why, why, why, why? But he received no answer.

Villain placed his hand on his blushed cheek again and stared into his eyes as if he wanted to remember the sight. And then he kissed him again, this time on the forehead.

"Sorry." Hero heard a quiet whisper and didn't know how to react. And if any of his reactions would have changed Villain's mind at all. Probably not.

That's why when Villain looked at him again, Hero didn't close his eyes.

A sharp, stabbing pain immediately shot through his head, and Hero couldn't help but hiss and crouch down as if it would protect him.

But Villain then moved his hand to his chin and forced him to straighten up and look him in the eye.

"You're unconsciously resisting, that's why it hurts. Stop it, Hero. Give up, enough of this fighting. It will be better for you this way" his sweet, calm voice made Hero start to calm down involuntarily. The feeling that he was going to cry disappeared. The pain subsided.

And then, as soon as he felt someone infiltrating his mind, searching through his memories, Hero submitted and everything went dark.

[nat-1-whump]

We need to give winged whumpees more love. Consider:

As hurt, we've got...

Sick Whumpee struggles to sleep because their wings make lying down tricky. This makes them extra miserable when they're already sick, tired, and desperately need to sleep but just can't get comfortable.

When Whumpee gets badly injured on the field, it takes the whole team to pin them down so they don't thrash around and make it worse while Caretaker tries to treat them. They've got people holding their legs, arms, and wings, and as much as Whumpee screams and writhes in pain, they don't let go. While they try to pull their wing from their teammate's grip, Whumpee accidentally dislocates it.

Whumper restrains Whumpee and rips their feathers out, one by one... Or all at once, if they are so inclined.

Whumpee gets caught in some kind of trap that covers their wings in gunk, effectively pinning them to the ground as they desperately try to escape from Whumper.

Sick with a horrible fever, Whumpee feels freezing cold no matter how much they're actually burning up. They keep trying to wrap their wings around themself for warmth, but Caretaker keeps stopping them by spreads their wings out. Whumpee groans as they try to pull their wings back. Caretaker whispers an apology, but they still can't let Whumpee risk making their fever worse.

Whumpee gets knocked out in midair, plummeting to the ground completely helpless. Or slamming into every tree branch, rooftop, or clothes line on the way down.

And as comfort, there's...

Caretaker gives Whumpee a warm bath and massages the dried blood out of their feathers. By the time they're done, Whumpee is fast asleep.

Caretaker repositions the pillows and blankets on Whumpee's bed into a sort of nest, trying to help Whumpee get as comfortable as they can. Afterwards, they bundle Whumpee in a blanket, wrapping Whumpee in their own wings first to make the blanket fit around them better and provide some extra warmth.

After Whumpee gets badly injured, Caretaker bandages up their wings, trying to soothe them whenever they cry out from the pain. Unable to fly, Whumpee gets increasingly impatient with themself over the following days. Caretaker notices their frustration and gently encourages them to take it easy and let their wings rest.

Whumpee uses their wings as a blanket for both themself and Caretaker as they snuggle together on the couch.

When Whumpee can barely walk due to their injuries, the weight of their wings only adds to the struggle. Though they encourage Whumpee to stay in bed and rest as much as possible, Caretaker is happy to wrap their arm around Whumpee's waist and help them around the house. Whumpee rests a wing on Caretaker's shoulders as they make their way to the kitchen for some warm food.

Caretaker asks Whumpee to hold still so they can draw their wings in their sketchbook. They say it's so Whumpee can see what their wings look like without trying to bend backwards in a mirror, but there's a silent understanding between the two that it's because they're both craving some time together. Whumpee starts to feel stiff from holding their wings out, but they can't help but smile a bit at the way Caretaker leans closer to watch the light move across their feathers. Though Whumpee had never seen their wings as anything particularly beautiful, they set off a sort of sparkle in Caretaker's eyes.

And maybe some wing-related dialogue, such as...

Whumper grinned, picking up a pair of wire cutters. The tool glinted in the flickering torch light. "Well, you've gone and flown a little too close to the sun, didn't you, Whumpee? Not to worry, though. You'll never fly again, when I'm through with you."

"Oh, why won't you sing for me, my beautiful songbird?" Whumper drawled as they ran a finger along Whumpee's throat. Whumpee only glared back. If it weren't for the muzzle, they would have spat on Whumper's shoes. They squirmed in their restraints, leather straps binding their wings close to their back.

"Oh, you poor thing... What happened to your wings? C'mere, let me look at them..." Caretaker pulled Whumpee into an embrace, grabbing their wings with gentle hands. Their breath hitched as they noticed that, under the tattered feathers, Whumpee's injuries were even worse than they thought.

Caretaker slapped sick Whumpee's cheek, trying to wake them up. "Hey, Whumpee, um. Listen, y-you're fever's getting worse and I just need to know... Whatever you are, do you go to a doctor or a vet?" They weren't exactly prepared for this winged stranger to show up on their doorstep half-dead. While they might have normally found their dilemma a bit comedic, right now it was hard to laugh. Whumpee desperately needed medical help, but they had no idea where to take them.

"Ngh-stop! Let go of my wings, or so help me I'll---" Whumpee's protests turned into a scream as Caretaker poured antiseptic onto a cloth and pressed it against their gaping wound. Whumpee passed out from the pain, falling limp with tears still streaming down their face. As their vision faded, they heard Caretaker's whispered apologies.

"Six months for the feathers to grow back?!" Whumpee's lower lip started to quiver. "B-but... I can't fly..." They took a wing in their hands, running their fingers along the bare, bloody skin where their feathers had been ripped out. Caretaker reached out to put a hand on Whumpee's shoulder, but Whumpee flinched back. A tear rolled down their cheek, stinging them as it landed right on an open cut on their wing. "Nonononono, th-there's gotta be something you can do! Anything! Please... I want my feathers back."

Just... Wings. Yeah.

[abhainnwhump]

(Content warnings: Burning alive, implied death, immortal whumpee)

Everything thinks Whumpee is dead, but they're just in a heavily/magically induced sleep. Whumpee's friends decide to cremate their body. Whumpee wakes up in the chamber they're being burned in and scream to get out, pounding on the case.

Bonus points if they have some form of immortality and they are unable to die, just going through it until Whumpee's friends realize what happened. The trust there is forever strained.

[thewhumperinwhite]

“Your heart is running itself ragged, little Prince,” Morden says. Andry can feel Morden’s breath on his cheek. “I don’t know if it will take another jolt, but I can make the experiment, if you’d like.”

alternate title via @whump-cravings's tags: #leave him alone you hot cunty bitch

closeups under the cut cause i like how their faces came out 😌

[cpt-winters]

Lil' Bit of Medieval Whump

Whumpee gasped for air as Whumper yanked at the chain, giving it no slack as they strutted across the feasting hall. Whumpee's fingers clenched around the collar tightened around his neck, a futile effort to ease it as Whumper tugged on the chain.

The heavy oak doors slammed closed behind the two, commanding the attention of each of the warriors filling the room.

Whumpee's cheeks flushed crimson at the humiliation as he stumbled behind Whumper, struggling to preserve a slither of dignity by avoiding being dragged toward the Warlord.

"You treat him like a dog," the Warlord sighed as Whumper approached and took their seat to his right, forcing Whumpee to kneel beside them.

"Why shouldn't I? He has been defeated,” Whumper declared proudly, shooting Whumpee a smile as he glared back from his spot on the floor.

"I will choke you with this chain..." Whumpee growled quietly. His gaze was abruptly pulled from the floor as Whumper jerked the chain, forcing their eyes to meet.

"What was that, Knight?" Whumper taunted.

"N-nothing," came the strangled reply.

"Where is your honour, Whumper? “ the Warlord questioned, shaking his head as he took a sip from his goblet. “He was a great warrior.”

"Was, Lord,” Whumper corrected, finally releasing Whumpee from their grip. “And now he may serve as a trophy. Nothing more.”