#medium whumpee

[shshshquietnow]

Based on a post by @whumpitlikeyoumeanit: ghost caretaker and medium whumpee.

Ghost caretaker maybe being a past victim of whumper, bound to the place they died, where whumpee is being kept now.

Whumpee being inherently terrified of their presence. No, not scared they're a ghost, they've been seeing ghosts all their life. They're scared they aren't the first victim, and that apparently the last victim fucking DIED.

Whumper, not knowing whumpee can see ghosts maybe, is elated. Whumpee was fighting back, defiant, the WHOLE way to the location, but as soon as whumpee is put in their cell they go dead (ha) silent and obeys whumper to a t.

Caretaker can't comfort whumpee. They can't say it's gonna be okay, caretaker themselves is the embodiment of there's not a good chance of it being okay. All their touches are cold and make whumpee shiver... the most they can do is torment whumper, but even then... whumper was the one to torture and kill them in the first place, they're still scared of whumper, and what they could do to whumpee if they lose their temper.

Not being able to leave the room as whumpee gets tortured... trying to encourage whumpee to put on a brave face as whumper taunts them... getting fed up of whumper and sending a chill through them... whumper finding out about caretaker eventually... lots can happen.

[parasiticstars]

[proud box baby owner voice] “see the reason your pets are all miserable is you don’t feed them shit. They’re all skin and bones and sunken in eyes. Not mine though. They’re got meat on them. Some substance. When I throw mine into The Basement they’re perfectly padded and comfortable.”

[whump-it]

WHUMPTOBER 2022

No.1

Unconventional Restraints

Tagging some people who might like this. Please say if you want to be removed!

@pepperonyscience @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @justabitofwhump @ashintheairlikesnow @whump-tr0pes @albino-whumpee @stab-the-son-of-a @strahlenderzynismus

"Do you remember that game?" Whumper asked, casually. Easy. As though they weren't handcuffing whumpees wrist to a horizontal metal pole, arm outstretched at ninety degrees to their body where they stood.

Whumpee glanced around, breathing coming in quick and panicked little inhales and exhales.

"What game?" They asked. "What are you talking about? Game?"

"Yes you know the one," Whumper said, clipping the handcuff so it was loose around the pole. The pole that went straight from one wall to the other. "Other hand now," Whumper said, cuffing Whumpees other wrist to the second pole that ran across the room on the other side of them.

Parallel bars. And Whumpee stood in the middle of them, arms outstretched to either side.

"I don't know!" Whumpee shouted.

"Now now," Whumper said, stepping back and adjusting Whumpees hands, one at a time. First this one. Lifted up. A pat on the back of the hand. A silent instruction to stay just like that. Then that one. The same lift and pat.

Trembling in place, Whumpee watched as Whumper walked across the room and stood by the door. Hand on a switch. Not a light switch.

"Don't buzz the wire,"

"What!?"

"Don't. Buzz. The wire!" Whumper said, laughing. "That's the game!"

"Why are you talking about games!? I don't know what you're talking about! Please!"

"If the wire gets touched," Whumper said, smiling. "Well then, you lost. You lost! Yes? You must have played this game!"

Whumpee shook their head, arms shaking where they were outstretched. Eyes filling with tears.

"Yes? You've played it. Yes?"

"Yes," Whumpee whispered.

"Good!" Whumper said with a huge smile plastered across their face. "Metal cuffs, metal pole, then I flick this switch here and..." the switch clicked quietly, but Whumpee flinched. "... go on. Test it out."

"Please," Whumpee whispered. "Please don't make me. Please."

"Do it," Whumper said.

"No,"

"Do it,"

Whumpee shook their head. Trembled. Shaking already at the effort needed to keep their arms outstretched and the cuffs away from the poles. "Please. No. Please please. Please..."

"Do it. Do it. DO IT!" Whumper yelled, making Whumpee jump. The cuffs caught on the poles, clanging.

Buzzing.

Loud.

Whumpee cried out in anticipation, tried to pull their hands in on a reflex of self preservation, but nothing happened. Nothing. No pain. Just a buzz.

Whumper laughed loud, a bark of a noise.

"I hate you!" Whumpee screamed at them. "It didn't do anything! I hate you!"

"It didn't?" Whumper asked, stepping away from the switch and coming to stand by Whumpee. Adjusting their hands again so that the cuffs came away from the poles and the buzzing stopped. The laughter had stopped too.

"You know it didn't!" Whumpee shouted through tears and hiccuping sobs of relief, the force of which let their arms move which set the poles to buzzing again as the cuffs hit into them.

"Not to you, no," Whumper said, adjusting Whumpees hands again.

"What do you mean?" Whumpee asked. "What do you mean!?"

Whumper stepped away and went to the door by the switch. Opened it.

Stepped into the hall.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?" Whumpee screamed, the cuffs hitting the poles again as they frantically tried to readjust their position.

"Hmm?" Whumper smiled at them from the hallway, hand on the door knob. "Oh! Yes. I forgot to tell you. Caretaker, who you like so much? Well, they're not having quite so much fun as you. Because every time you set those poles to buzzing...?" Whumper trailed off and shut the door.

"NO!" Whumpee screamed, body moving on instinct.

The poles buzzed as the cuffs caught on them.

[spookywhumping]

Whumptober Day 17

No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT | Stress Positions

It must have been a couple hours since they dragged Caspian away. A couple hours that this group of strange people had left Nathaer alone. He couldn’t tell how long it was for sure. The two of them had been thrown in a windowless wagon when the strangers ambushed them. There was no sunlight to tell time with. But it was a long time. A long time since Nathaer had seen anyone enter the darkness of the wagon.

These strangers were a new group. Just fantastic. As if they didn’t already have enough people hunting them across the continent. Well, whoever they were, the strangers were clearly experienced in tracking people down—human or otherwise, magical or not. They were being very cautious with Caspian and Nathaer, not giving them any chances to escape. For Caspian, that meant using garadium shackles to smother his magic. For Nathaer, they decided to not let him move at all.

He didn’t know how long he’d been here, but it was long enough for the discomfort from the bindings to grow into something more...painful. The strangers had forced his arms behind his back, to the point where his shoulders and elbows were straining, then locked the chains to an iron ring in the ceiling. The result was a constant pressure that threatened to dislocate his joints unless he rose to his full position. But he couldn’t do that. Because the strangers had also bent his tail over and over, then chained it while it was coiled. That meant he had to strain against those chains to try and relieve the pressure from the chains on his arms. Something that took a lot of effort, especially over an extended period of time.

Nathaer wasn’t sure if the strangers were cruel, or if they just didn’t care. It wasn’t ignorance. Caspian had overheard some of them talking about an antivenom for naga bites, so they clearly knew at least a little about his kind. So it was one of those other options. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

There were voices outside the wagon. Nathaer straightened a little—his tail shaking as it fought against the chains—and tried to make out their words. But it was no use. None of it made sense. Was it in a different language? He wasn’t familiar with all the human tongues.

It was too much effort to keep himself elevated. Nathaer relaxed his muscles, and then let out a little cry as the chains on his arms pulled them backwards and upwards.

He’d given up on struggling against the chains at this point. They were locked tight. All his energy went to minimizing the discomfort and pain this arrangement was causing. Struggling would just hurt more, as he used that important energy on fruitless thrashing.

Were the strangers planning on taking him somewhere far away? Would he have to endure this for a long journey? And what about Caspian? Was he experiencing something just as bad as this? Was he okay? Nathaer let out a little hiss of amusement at that thought. He had more important things to think about right now, but he was spending a lot of this time worrying about Caspian. It was kind of funny. But not enough to distract him from his screaming joints.

He breathed in shakily. His arms were begging for a relief from the pressure. He clamped his teeth tight and tried to last as long as he could before he couldn’t stand it anymore. Just...a little bit...please...please...

The point of no return came a lot sooner than he would have thought. Nathaer shifted, forcing his tail to straighten, chains digging into his scales. The pressure on his arms lessened, but didn’t go away. He couldn’t hold this position for long. Eventually, they would have to feel that pressure again.

An idle thought passed through his mind, wondering when he would give up on trying to fight the pressure. The only answer that came to him was ‘not now.’ So, he tried to breathe steadily through the effort, wondering again how long he’d been alone.

[bedtimescenarios]

There's something so terrifyingly beautiful about mind control.

Just imagine- a Whumpee who knows about Whumper's ability. As soon as they end up alone with them and realize what's going to happen, they panic. They attempt to get away, to stay out of Whumper's reach, to fight.

When that fails, they resort to choked pleas, backing away though they know it's futile. Their eyes warily scan the grinning Whumper, who is walking towards them at a painfully slow pace, aware of the fact that they have them cornered. As their back presses against the cold wall, and Whumper's hand delicately makes its way towards their face, Whumpee freezes.

Whumper's fingers gently brush against their face, the cold touch causing them to shiver.

"Don't fight me."

Their voice is sweet as they speak, so much so that, if they didn't know better, Whumpee would think this was their medium. But as Whumper's hand settles on their cheek, and their mind starts becoming foggy, that idea is discarded.

"You'll feel so much better afterwards, you'll see. Just let me in."

Whumpee grimaces, desperately trying to hold onto their thoughts. their thoughts. their, their, THEIR-

"There we go."

As Whumpee's facial features relax, their breathing slows down, and their expression goes blank, Whumper knows they've won.

Whumpee's mind is theirs now.

[whumble-beeee]

Crack Prompt: Welcome to the Whumpee Store!

(aka totally not bbu what do you MEAN)

Whumpees stacked on shelves grocery store-style

Different aisles for different types of whumpee ("No ma'am, this is actually the conditioned aisle, the defiant aisle is on the other side of the store, aisle 9.")

Workers that are TOTALLY not whumpees themselves probably

Or maybe that teenager helping you really is just your average dead-eyed retail worker. Basically the same thing at this point anyway.

"Sir, that's the price for a fresh unaltered whumpee. You can mold them however you want."

"You want me to do YOUR JOB for you?! What kind of establishment is this?!"

On that note, whumpees made to order

You want a medium-sized defiant whumpee that'll start crying and freeze up the second you turn the lights off? Say less.

Tags on the more dainty and dewey-eyed whumpees that say "Torture with Care"

"Mx., you broke the warranty when you threw your whumpee down the stairs. The instructions clearly state they're meant for household chores only, you'll have to pay full price for a new one."

Whumpees in those sealed plastic action figure boxes, forced into a single pose for. however long it takes you to buy them please buy them they're begging you please PLEASE PLEASE THEY CAN'T TAKE--

Whumpees staring hopefully (or fearfully) at every potential customer that walks by.

BARTERING. RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. WHUMPEE.

Customers trying to get the conditioned whumpees to crack so they don't have to pay as much for them.

"I'm not sure this whumpee is trained as well as you say, I'm gonna need a demonstration"

Living weapon whumpees locked behind those stupid glass cabinets that you have to get a store attendant to unlock for you if you want to get at one

^Exotic/rare/expensive ones too

Thank you to all my friends on the Whump World server for all your suggestions and enabling me :) I probably have more too, but this was getting long lmao

@whumperofworlds | @randowhump | @kira-the-whump-enthusiast | @whumpninja

[whumpgifathon]

Hello! And welcome to my brand new whump gifmaking challenge! I'm your host @aceofwhump and I'm excited to bring a whump challenge specifically created with gifmakers and visual artists in mind.

The challenge begins August 1, 2024!

Rules:

All gifs posted must be made by you. Do not just post gifs using the gif keyboard and claim them as yours and do not repost other people’s gifs. No AI-generated content please.

Various mediums are welcome! So long as the visual art aspect is the focus you can make whatever you want. Yes this is primarily a gifmaking challenge so everything is geared towards that but any visual art is welcome. If you draw, make moodboards, edits, videos, etc you’re welcome to participate!

You can use the prompts however you like. There is no wrong way to use a prompt. Feel free to interpret them however you wish. If you think it counts as whump? It's whump! Make it! Angst, comfort, emotional whump, small things, big things, it all counts so no need to over think it.

Tag all potential triggers (things like emeto, gore, nsfw, blood, eye whump, rape/noncon, etc.) When in doubt, tag it.

Tags to use when posting so I can find your ppst: #whumpedit, #whumpgifathon, #whump gifs

Please try to include the show/movie title, character names, and episode number (if applicable) somewhere either in your tags or in the post caption. This way anyone interested in watching it can find it easily.

An example of a way you can caption your gifsets:

@whumpgifathon | Day #: "prompt description" Show/Movie title, episode number, character name

And here's the prompt list!!! I hope you guys like it and find it inspiring but not overly challenging!

Remember that this is a relaxed event!!! I just want to offer my fellow visual artists some inspiring prompts and an opportunity to have some fun. So sit back, relax, and have fun!

Text version below:

Whump Gifathon - August 2024 Prompt List

Day 1: Space Oxygen Deprivation | Time Loop | Experiment

Day 2: Feeling Sick Fever | Infection | Delirium

Day 3: Environmental Earthquake | Storm | Hypothermia

Day 4: Captivity Chains | Caged | Rescue

Day 5: Water Shipwrecked | Drowning | Waterboarding

Day 6: Skills Try out a new technique you haven’t tried before using your favorite whump trope as inspiration!

Day 7: Emotional Crying | Panic Attack| Fear

Day 8: Hospital Ambulance | Intubation | Waking Up Disoriented

Day 9: Battlefield Explosion | Gunfire | Field Medicine

Day 10: Temporary Effects Blinded | Amnesia | Poisoned

Day 11: Recovery Sling | Pain | Seeking Support

Day 12: We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes Straight Jacket | Forced Injection | Hallucinations

Day 13: Aesthetic Highlight your favorite whump aesthetic

Day 14: Sleeping Nightmares | Exhaustion | Passing Out

Day 15: Trapped Impaled | Buried Alive | Locked Inside

Day 16: Western Cauterized | Bitten | Hanged

Day 17: Comfort Hugging | Blankets | Gentle Touch

Day 18: Broken Broken Bones | Emotional Breakdown | Broken Spirit

Day 19: Relationships What is your favorite type of whumpee/caretaker relationship? Platonic? Romantic? Familial? Show me!

Day 20: Blood Bloody Hands | Bleeding Out | Covered in Blood

Day 21: Fantastical Nonhuman | Resurrection | Magical Healing

Day 22: A Knock to the Head Headache | Knocked Out | Bloody face

Day 23: Travel Gone Wrong Car Accident | Plane Crash | Train Delrailment

Day 24: Magic Magical Exhaustion | Cursed | Possession

Day 25: Period Drama Pick a time period of your choice and highlight the whump!

Day 26: Everything Hurts and I’m Dying Grief | Resuscitation | Presumed Dead

Day 27: Superheroes Overused Powers | Powers with a Side Effect | Villain

Day 28: Torture Beaten| Flogging | Choked

Day 29: Restrained Zipties| Rope Leash | Medical Restraints

Day 30: First Aid Ice Pack | Stitches | Bandages

Day 31: Colors Highlight a specific color in your art

Alternate Prompts:

"Stay With Me" Begging Heat Exhaustion Bedside Vigil Self Surgery Taser Scar Reveal Collapsing Protective Electrocution

[amonthofwhump]

It's that time of year again! AMonthOfWhump's Winter Whumperland event runs from December 1-12, with a collection of prompts for your inspiration each day. To participate, create in any medium and share your works on Tumblr. Use the event tags or @ us in your post to get reblogged here. Prompt list transcript, tagging info, and a free-to-use post header under the cut.

1: Santa Claus

Claustrophobia

Forced Celebration

Panic Attack

Comfort: Secret Santa Exchange

2: Krampus

Sensory Overload

Temptation

Whipping

Comfort: Decorating Cookies

3: George Bailey

"We've lost everything we have."

Disowned

Drowning

Comfort: Christmas Market

4: The Grinch

Sedatives

Blackmail

Yandere Whumper

Comfort: Ugly Sweater Party

5: Ebenezer Scrooge

Power Outage

Time Loop

Overworked Whumpee

Comfort: Snuggling by the Fire

6: Jack Frost

Post-apocalyptic Winter

Amnesia

Comfort turned to Fear

Comfort: Snowball Fight

7: Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer

Inhuman Whumpee

Exile

Self-sacrifice

Comfort: You’re Not Alone

8: John Mclane

Held Hostage

Russian Roulette

Forced to Watch

Comfort: Rescue

9: Jólakötturinn

Feral Whumpee

Left Behind

Collared

Comfort: Wiping the Other’s Tears Away

10: Tio de Nadal

Conditioning

Left to Die

Final Countdown

Comfort: Holiday Traditions

11: The Yule Goat

Branding

Stitches

Public Whump

Comfort: Trimming the Tree

12: Elf on the Shelf

Trapped

Bedside Vigil

Used as bait

Comfort: Mistletoe (or avoiding it)

Event Tags: #amow winter whumperland 2023, #day1, #claustrophobia, (tag the prompt you're using)

And lastly, here is a post header to use for the event if you like. Happy whumping!

[seth-whumps]

you mentioned that you like knight characters and i wonder if you have any tips on writing knight caretakers and whumpees? i like medieval, fantasy and knight whump but i have trouble creating ocs who are knights. i love the aesthetic, armors and whump potencial but i can't relate to them and figure out their motivation cause i'm a pacifist from modern times

Hi anon! I do love me a good medieval knight setting. Here's some tips for you!

-> Ditch the black and white.

Morality is a complex son of a bitch. Don't focus on a pillar of "normal" expectation, like "killing wrong, charity good". Try something more layered. For example, I have a knight character who will kill anyone in his way--however, he will do his utmost to send them to the afterlife with respect (leaving a flower on their chest, giving them a kind word, pressing a kiss to their forehead, etc). Don't be afraid to let a "good" character do "bad" things, and don't be afraid to justify the morally grey.

-> Make them like you.

If you're having trouble relating to your characters, a trick is to give them something of yours. For example, if you have a sibling, model their relationship to their siblings like yours--whether it's a love-hate or a die-hard loyalty--and reference that. Then, their thought processes have a point of reference, and you can feel for them.

-> Relax into the genre.

Explore the parts you enjoy of the aesthetic. You like armor? Make your OC from a blacksmithing family. You like fight scenes? Have them train classically in a sword-style you enjoy. Is the royal-servant dynamic a favorite of yours? Design them a prince friend, and develop their relationship. Delve into the parts that intrigue you, first and foremost.

-> Symbolism!

I said it in my previous advice post and I'll say it again--assign your characters opposing symbols. The ocean and the sky and a sailboat between them, and how they interact, gives a flowery poetic description between them all. It's definitely a stylistic choice, but even just keeping the symbol in your head will help with interactions.

-> Do some research.

Watch a relevant show (might I suggest Merlin?). Take a rabbit hole down Wikipedia pages. Scroll a cosplay account. The things you find might inspire you, and if not, the stuff you like can make a very fun small detail!

*Also: there are different kinds of settings to play in. You can go high or low fantasy, high or low magic (LOTR is high fantasy low magic; Percy Jackson is a medium between the two). These terms are from a different post, I'll endeavor to find it. If magic doesn't inspire you, don't include it. If it does? It's everywhere now. Go wild.

-> Hypeman it.

Just have fun with it. Choose the things that excite you, and then get really fucking excited about it. Anything that bores you gets tossed out the window. You really can just say "it's three weeks later now" and move on--classic authors did it all the time. Go crazy and do it shamelessly. Don't care about the things you don't care about.

I hope these help! If you'd like, I can do a series of medieval prompts to help you get started. Thank you so much for the ask!

[whumpcloud]

The Body (and Him) - Art Auction

thank you to @honeycollectswhump who helped me develop these guys couldn't have done it without you <3

content: heavy dehumanisation (whumpee treated as literal object), heavy dissociation, techinically pet whump (whumpee is a pet but not treated as such/doesn't really use the tropes), heavily conditioned whumpee, rescue & recovery, mentions of: gore, restraints, knives, bruising

Micah is going to vomit.

He has a reputation, he knows, so he gets invited to these sorts of private events. People he can't stand auctioning off art they don't appreciate. But he goes anyway, because he's a collector at heart, and he likes having them.

This is not a painting or a poster or a sculpture or any sort of normal art. This is a person who is so utterly lifeless that Micah wouldn't blame anyone for thinking that he was a corpse.

He stares. The boy stares back, but Micah can tell there's no conscious awareness of doing so. That's something he knows more intimately than a person should. Of the dozens of Pets who have passed through his doors, how many times has he seen that look in their eyes? Micah moves to the left and the boy's eyes don't follow.

Fuck, he's been noticed staring. Very quickly, he shoves the horror into the pit of his stomach and flashes a smile at the seller.

"I'm a little unsure what exactly the art here is," Micah says, as casually as he can manage with bile burning the back of his throat. "Would you mind explaining?"

"It's him," the man replies, gesturing to the boy. The boy is entirely still - does he even know what's going on? The lack of look in his eyes suggests not. "Well, he's more of a medium, than anything. It's a little hard to explain. Would you like to take a look through the album?"

The album? Micah takes a shaky step forward to leaf through the book sitting on the lectern in front of the exhibit.

If he could feel any more queasy, he would. Photograph upon photograph upon photograph of this boy in different positions, with different injuries. The only consistent thing is his blank-eyed stare. Micah can feel it radiating from the pages. A shudder runs down his spine. A photograph of the boy suspended upside down by ropes, patterns carved into his skin. A photograph of the boy pinned to a wall like a butterfly in moody lighting, nails through his hands and feet.

Micah shuts the book a little harder than intended.

"Is he up for auction?" Micah asks, trying to hide how strangled his voice is.

"Yes, he is," the man smiles, obviously excited at Micah's interest. "I've had him for a few years now, I'm moving on to other projects."

Other projects?! Micah bites his tongue until it bleeds. "What would you say are his most notable features?"

"I'm so glad you asked," the man says. There's a predatory glint in his eye that doesn't make it any easier for Micah to keep smiling. "As I'm sure you've noticed, he's very still. He doesn't flinch or scream, and he's barely any maintenance. Just feed him once a day, keep him hydrated, and wash him so that he doesn't get any infections. He's just a body, really."

Just a body. That's a person, you freak.

Micah is not letting him go to auction.

"How much? Right now."

Shaking someone's hand has never felt so sickening. Micah wants to scrub the feeling away until his skin is raw and bloody.

When Micah picks the boy up, he goes entirely limp in Micah's arms. Micah murmurs something about being safe now, but he has a feeling it goes in one ear and out the other.

—

The body is being carried. Out of the car and into the air. Air on its skin. That doesn't happen very much. He wonders, ever so briefly, if this new owner will put him outside. But then it passes and he stops paying attention to those sorts of things.

"Easy now," a voice says, and he isn't really sure what that means. "I'm laying you down, okay?"

The body is placed on a bed, and it immediately goes limp. Unfocused eyes fix on a point on the ceiling.

"...can you look at me, please?"

Its eyes dart over. Still unfocused. But he can make out a masculine figure, pale skin, red hair in a ponytail, brown eyes. Nice eyes. Gentle eyes. Oh, the body would appreciate being used gently. This owner might have really sharp knives so that the skin cuts cleanly, or big hands to leave more bruises faster, or soft ropes to hang him up. Of course, he has no say in what happens to the body. No say in anything. But the body has experienced a lot of things that have made it need rest, so if it was treated gently, that would be nice.

"I'm Micah." Master. "Are you tired? Nod for yes."

He doesn't understand the question. There's a quiet sigh.

"Does the body need rest?"

Oh, that makes sense. The body nods, though he doesn't understand why he's being asked. The body will sleep if told to sleep. But he doesn't understand a lot of things. He isn't made to understand.

"Then rest, okay? Go to sleep."

The body obediently closes its eyes and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

He wakes. Micah is still there. Just sitting by the bed. The body stares at the ceiling again.

"Oh, you're awake. I'm going to ask you to do some things now, okay?"

Okay.

"...sit up, please."

That's very non-specific. Normally the body would just be positioned however a person liked. But the body is certainly capable of moving around without assistance. So it sits up on the bed, cross-legged with his hands in its lap. Default position.

Micah eyes him. The body just stares ahead. It hasn't been told to look anywhere. The wall in front of him has an oil painting of a flower. In his peripheral vision, he can see more paintings, and drawings, and statues, and other things like him. He must be another new decoration.

"...raise your left arm, straight up."

The body obeys.

"Okay, put it back down."

The body obeys and its hand returns to its lap.

Micah wants to scream. He moves so mechanically. Does he even think? Micah can't detect any thought behind his gaze.

No, that's a stupid thought. Of course he thinks. Micah should know better than to contemplate otherwise. There's a fully-formed, complex person sitting there. He just needs to find a way of communicating.

"Do you speak?" Micah tries. He has a suspicion of what the answer might be. "You don't have to say anything. Just nod if you're physically capable of speech."

He does the closest thing he can to thinking, for a moment. There definitely are vocal cords in the body's throat, so he supposes he could use them. He doesn't see a reason to. Bodies don't have a need for speech. No person has ever asked him to speak. So even though there are vocal cords, the body might not be able to form any words or sound. But he doesn't know. So the body nods. Physically capable sounds right.

"Okay," Micah says, relief in his tone. "Good. Okay. Do you have a name? Could you speak to tell me it?"

What would a body have a name for?

"Right. Of course." Micah bites his nails. He needs something to call this boy. Anything at all. "I'm… I'm going to call you Demitri, okay? So when I say Demitri, you answer to it, yeah? Nod for yes."

It's just Micah's middle name, desperately grasped in a moment of horrified panic. But it's a name. If Demitri changes it later, then he's free to. Micah's had plenty of Pets change their names more than once.

The body nods, slowly, deliberately. Demitri. That's a name you would give to a person. This owner is strange. But maybe he likes to nickname his pieces. It isn't Demitri's place to question anything, even if he was capable of doing so.

"Okay. Does the body need to eat?"

The body just eats. People must have signals that let them know if they need to do that, and Micah just doesn't realise that the body doesn't feel things like hunger or thirst.

"...fine. Scheduled mealtimes, then. But I'll go make you something now, okay?"

The moment Micah leaves, Demitri settles into the familiar emptiness of being alone. But at least the body is on a bed. A bed! The body never got to be on a bed in Master's house. Maybe this is where the body will get to lie every time it isn't being used.

That would be so… nice.

"Demitri, I'm back," Micah says, some unknown amount of time later. Time isn't really a concept Demitri grasps. "I've brought you some soup. Can you eat it yourself?"

Micah places the bowl into the body's lap. Is it supposed to eat? The body tries to hold the spoon, and all it does is slip back into the soup. There was a time where it had the strength to do that, Demitri is sure. Maybe a very long time ago, back at the start with Master.

Micah takes a deep breath, and bites his lip. "Okay. I'll feed it to you."

That requires much less effort for the body. It opens its mouth.

Micah is quiet, half-forgetting to try to keep talking like he intended. He has a bad habit of going silent when he's thinking. It isn't that he minds this - he never could, and Demitri certainly isn't the first one to need this sort of help, anyway - but there's something different about this. He's had rescues who struggle to do anything for themselves. He's had rescues who are detached from their own bodies. He's had rescues used as all manner of objects. Not all of them at once.

He's the one people go to with difficult cases. He coaxes out the ones that hide and convinces the ones who only follow orders to do something for themselves and reassures the ones that think everything they do deserves a punishment that it's all going to be okay.

Who else is going to do this? The photo album lies abandoned in the car. Pages upon pages of what Micah can only describe as horror.

And Demitri does… nothing. Gives him nothing to work with.

For the first time in the seven years he's been doing this, Micah Ullmann feels lost.

He continues to gently spoon-feed Demitri anyway.

[whump-bunny]

I just started working at a kennel, and I have learned that a fully grown adult can fit inside a medium to large sized dog crate...

...which is terrible news for my whumpees.

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Picrews

[Large Text: Starcross Picrews /End ID]

Made with this picrew by maetheellen

Veya Marc (She/her) | 39 | Captain of Starcross | Home world: Adaxia

[Image ID: A picrew that shows a person with light blue skin, pointy ears, yellow eyes, and dark blue hair that’s pulled back into a short ponytail. She has a right eyebrow piercing, a nose piercing, and is wearing stud earrings. She has a small tattoo on the center of her forehead. /End ID]

Elzar Keap (They/them) | 32 | First Mate | Home world: Calazan

[Image ID: A picrew of a person with light brown skin, light blue eyes, shaggy, chin length red hair, and two goat-like horns. They have a scar over their right eyebrow, which resembles slash marks, and are wearing a blue jacket. /End ID]

Jesse Esu (She/her) | 26 | Pilot | Home world: Marorea

Note: Jesse’s facial scaring is more pronounced than the picrew shows. It covers her left cheek, lower jaw, temples, and left ear. It is textured, and a little shiny.

[Image ID: A picrew that shoes a person with light skin, green eyes, and flowing pink hair. She has a slight blush to her cheeks, and a large scar on her left cheek. A small hair ornament with a little crystal hangs down on her forehead. She’s wearing two chokers and a necklace, and a forest green shirt with an open neckline. /End ID]

Meloziar “Ziar” Beskali (She/her) | 37 | Doctor | Home world: Adaxia

[Image ID: A picrew that shows a person with light blue skin, yellow eyes, and short, dark blue hair. She has angular facial tattoos on her cheeks, forehead, and chin. She’s wearing golden hoop earrings, and a grey tank-top with a small turtleneck. /End ID]

Mari Kinsar (He/him) | 29 | Mechanic | Home world: Pernius Prime

[Image ID: A picrew that shows a person with dark brown skin, yellow eyes, pointed ears, and long braided hair. He has a web-like tattoo on his neck, and a gold colored hair ornament that covers his forehead. /End ID]

Oka Kinsar (They/them) | 28 | I’m not entirely sure what her job is but it’s logistics adjacent | Home world: Pernius Prime

[Image ID: A picrew that shows a person with dark skin, yellow eyes, pointed ears, and curly black hair that’s pulled back into two buns on the sides. They have a yellow scarf around their hair, and have two dangling earrings. One is a butterfly wing, and one is a small bird charm on a chain. They have a gear tattoo on their neck, and a fork like tattoo over their right eye. /End ID]

Kim (KM-4682) (They/it) | ? | Whumpee | Home world: Yera

[Image ID: A picrew showing a person with medium dark skin, drown hair, and brown eyes. They have a tattoo on their neck that resembles numbers, and a scar on their cheek. They have a large bruise around their right eye, and are wearing a thank-top with thin straps. /End ID]

Anodyn Voran (She/her) | 32 | Head of Mech-Organism Interface Research Devision (MOIRD), whumper | Home world: Yera

[Image ID: A picrew that shows a person with light purple skin, blue eyes, and dark blue hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her skin has scaly patches around her temples, right cheek, and neck. She’s wearing a dark colored turtle neck. /End ID]

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Whumpas in July: Day 1 and Day 2

Late entry to Whumpas! (unfortunately it is almost July 3 in my timezone, but my previous attempt was deleted by Tumblr instead of getting posted, I still hope it counts)

Day 1: Introduce yourself

Hi everyone! I’m Nila, I go by Archer as well. I am an intern physician from India. My main blog is @ambidextrousarcher which is a reference to an Indian mythical character, Arjun, who is often a protagonist/PoV character in my stories.

I discovered that finding hurt/comfort interesting has a specific name to it fairly recently, but since I found the community, I have avidly enjoyed a lot of good whump! Sadly, due to lack of time, I can be a bit of a lurker sometimes.

My favourite medium of whump is prose, although I am discovering an interest in visual mediums of whump lately as well.

I am trying to write my whump stories but am unfortunately in a trough with regard to inspiration, I hope that Whumpmas helps a little with that!

I would like to end this intro with a shoutout to @whumperofworlds @i-eat-worlds and @whumpninja for being really sweet with me when I just entered this community, as well as @redwingedwhump whose writings were crucial in inspiring me to be a more active (such as it is) member of this beautiful community!

Day 2: Favourite Tropes

Here is a non-exhaustive list of my favourite tropes: (Top 3 + 2 extras)

1. The “good” whumpee: The whumpee who is in this mess because of a moral reason, usually heroic. Self-sacrifice, whumpee with a code of honour, whumpee who endures for a greater cause, whumpee who tries not to let caretaker just how badly they are hurt, the list goes on.

2. The unravelling of the stoic whumpee: Whumpee who is stoic (usually an extension of the “good” whumpee aka they want to protect caretaker) until. It is just too much. They lose control over the pain, and tears ensue. Especially love it if whumpee in their PoV is trying to keep a smile on their face just for caretaker’s sake, and that is precisely what hurts caretaker the most.

3. Misunderstood whumpee: Whumpee who is, intentionally or unintentionally, misunderstood. By a loved one, the system itself, someone they idolize, you name it, I probably love it.

4. Caretaker PoV at crucial moments: Moments like “Oh, God, this can’t be anyone else but this person I care for/love.” Moments where Whumpee is having a breakdown. I love caretaker’s PoV when it is carefully used.

5. Historical period whump: Historical fiction is my favourite genre, and there are so many whump possibilities in this genre!

So ends my post for Day 1 and Day 2 of @whumpmasinjuly

Also tagging @whumpmasinjuly-archive

Much love,

Nila aka Archer

[writereleaserepeat]

Honestly, my long-lived obsession with Wolverine is entirely whump-derived, and I'm only just now realizing it. Wolverine is one of the best mainstream whumpees.

There's a Wolverine comic I read ages ago, the actual official comics, that entirely altered my brain chemistry. It's an arc where Wolverine is captured, and he's in a pit in a namless militaristic facility, where they fire heavy munitions at him 24/7. It's just machine gunning his regenerative body constantly, and he can feel every inch of it. The comic takes place from the perspective of one of the gunners, and how he's desensitized himself to the torture he inflicts, because the prisoner always comes back in some way - tormented, broken, but alive.

Wolverine's entire existence is agony, no matter the story, no matter the medium. Even the act of unsheathing his adamantium claws is agonizing, because he feels the way they split his flesh and soft tissues every time. So many of the comics discuss his never-ending pain, and even his desire to truly die. There's an animated series where his head is kept severed, apart from his body, unable to grow back. I have countless examples of the exquisite torture he undergoes, but every time, he survives. Traumatized, but surviving.

He's an incredible comic hero, but also prime whumpee.

[spookywhumping]

Whumptober Day 30

No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON’T GET KIDNAPPED | “Please don’t touch me.”

(Decided to do something new for this one. Robot whump—with a new character! Just playing around with some ideas, really.)

It was midnight. Probably. Their internal clock could have been off, it hadn’t been receiving radio signals for...some time now. But they guessed it was late at night by how quiet the facility was. The hum of lights and chatter of people had faded away. It wasn’t gone entirely. But it was faded. They liked it when it was faded.

And then the door opened. They raised their head, eyes adjusting to the difference in light levels. In walked one of the facility workers. Human. Female. Brown hair and eyes. Wearing the same blue jumpsuit as many of the other workers here. They’d figured out that the ones in jumpsuits were maintenance or technicians of some sort.

“Alright,” the worker—technician?—muttered, tapping at a tablet in her hands. She reached over and turned on the lights to the room. Their eyes adjusted once more. “Android. Of course they’d give me one of those, god damn... bastards...” she trailed off into insulting grumbles as she stepped further into the room.

They inched backwards, getting closer to the wall. Now that the lights were on, they could clearly see a duffel bag slung over the technician’s shoulder. It made a clanking sound every time she took a step. Which probably meant... “Please don’t touch me,” they said quietly.

The technician looked over at them, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Uh...I’m gonna,” she said. “It’s my job. They’ll notice if I just leave without doing anything.” She continued to approach. “Don’t move.”

They froze for a moment, but then overcame it and kept backing up until they hit the wall. Their eyes darted back to the door that the technician had left open. If only they could just stand up and leave the room. But the wires attached to their torso and head prevented that. They were embedded firmly, and they knew for a fact that one of them was connected to their power source—which, until recently, had been an internal, chargeable battery. But the facility had removed that battery, and replaced it with a plug. Like for an appliance. Now they couldn’t leave.

“Okay.” The technician knelt to the ground, putting her duffel bag on the floor next to her. She opened it wide and rummaged around until she pulled out some tool with a curved end. Then she checked the tablet again, nodding before setting that down as well. “Here we go.” She reached forward.

“Please don’t.” They scrabbled to the side, avoiding her hand. “I know you have a job, but you can say no. You can tell your boss that you don’t want to.”

She laughed. “God, you really don’t get it. Why are you so bothered? You can’t feel pain.”

“That doesn’t mean it feels good,” they said carefully.

“You have a sleep mode. If you’re so worried, go to sleep.”

“I can’t. It has a cooldown.” The technician kept reaching for them. They ducked lower to the ground, trying to avoid her hand for just a little longer. “But you don’t have to do this. Just come back later if you really have to, I’m sure the people in charge would understand.” They tried to smile reassuringly. Difficult to do when there were only so many expressions their hardware was built to handle.

“Sorry, I can’t clock out until I do all my assignments. And you’re one.” The technician grunted, frustrated. “Aren’t you supposed to follow orders? Stop moving around!”

“That’s not how it works—” Her hand grabbed the side of their head, and they abruptly stopped talking. Their whole body froze. They didn’t want it to. But it did. Why? That wasn’t supposed to happen. Was there a new command written in there? When did someone do that?

“Finally.” The technician sighed. Her other hand reached for one of their eyes, holding back the artificial lid. She adjusted her grip so she could hold it open with one hand and wield that curved tool with the other. “This’ll only take a minute,” she said, and pressed the tool to the corner of the mechanical eye.

Why? Why was this happening? Their eyes were perfectly functional. All of them had been perfectly functional. Why were these new people changing things? They weren’t upgrades. They felt different.

Pop. Pop. All visual input ceased. Their central processor whirred with warnings as panic rose, filling their chest and throat cavities. But the technician was still holding their head in one hand, and their body wouldn’t respond. What sort of command could override the warnings?

Click. Click. Their vision went in and out of focus, tuning through several filters as everything calibrated. “See? Not so bad,” the technician said. She dropped the old parts into the duffel bag and stood up.

The moment she let go, they shifted to the side, head hitting the ground with a heavy clunk. They could feel their cooling system slowing down, returning to normal level. The technician was already leaving. They watched her walk away in silence, turning off the lights as she left the room.

[catadriencraft]

TW ASSAULT

Imagine if your whumper wrapped whumpees long or medium hair around a stick and twisted it till it ripped out.... just a thought.