#whumpblr

[guardcanine]

my blog is a safe space for fictional characters who are misunderstood and therefore hated by the majority of their fandoms. “he killed children 😡😡😡” have you ever considered the fact that he was sad and his father abused him? also fuck them kids

[defire]

Forest setting: whump in the woods

(army/scout, fantasy vibes)

Content: mild violence, restraints

Whumpee wakes up to a sword at their throat-- they close their eyes to just imagine this isn't happening for one more second

Getting dragged by the feet over sticks and stones, making gashes up whumpee's back and arms as they squirm and cry out

Whumpee getting tied to a tree and having to stay standing because there's thorns or obstacles at the bottom.

Trying to maintain their dignity by lifting their chin as they rest their head against the tree they're tied to

When that pose forces the bob of their throat as they swallow to be very visible (bonus: looking side to side to keep from crying)

A torch sparking and flickering as it's held a little too close to whumpee's face, whumpee pulling back as far as they can and squinting to protect their eyes

Tied up and bargaining "you look like you're having a little trouble with that fire. Sure would be nice if there was someone around that knew how to do that. Too bad the only ranger here is tied up."

Brigands. Whumpee gets caught, beaten up, manhandled, groped all over for valuables, left stripped and bloody in the woods

Army stuff--scouting and getting CAPTURED BY THE ENEMY (honestly this was my childhood favorite). That sinking feeling as whumpee's face mashes into pine needles under the knee of a soldier

Being up a tree hunting or hiding out, and whumpee's enemy camps below and instead of coming up after them, they start to chop the tree down. Cue a yelling match of "get down!" "Only if you promise my safety!" "Nope!" Chop.

Falling out of a tree and hitting the ground on their back, knocking the wind out of them (especially if then, they open their eyes to see they're surrounded by grinning enemies and just groan)

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[the-bloody-sadist]

Full on twt just in case it’s too intense for tumblr 💀 SEE HERE

I accidentally got addicted to HSR because of chicken wing boy by the way, didn’t expect to love aventurine while I was at it

[secretlythegodofdesire]

Weapon Prompt 5

Numbing Drugs

Whumpee fights till the very end, throwing themselves or limbs at the multiple versions of whumper they are seeing until their mind comes to putty

They no longer have to be restrained anymore, in exchange for the lack of body aches, the mind aches instead

Whumper can bathe Whumpee, but they better watch carefully or Whumpee will unintentionally drown themselves.

Whumpee can come upstairs, not on the furniture, but on the floor, on their knees, while Whumper pets their head or hair.

Disobey, why? Everything was so much harder when their mind was clear, why fight the chasing pleasure sensation.

Whumper can do anything to whumpee. Anything....

The drugs are leaving Whumpee's system, and they wake up in Whumper's arms, the panic?

Later Whumper teases them with all the pictures and videos of what they had done over the lost time, Whumpee is more humiliated than ever

Their voice so dizzy and strained, mumbling nonsense, promising things that they would never be able to keep. Just think of the month and months of gaslighting Whumper could do over just one lost day.

Whumpee wants more drugs, they would rather not remember or feel the things Whumper does to them. (Once they want the drugs though, once they stop hating them and fighting them, Whumper will never give them back.)

Withdrawal Symptoms

[what-would-your-blorbo-do]

Prompt inspired by Saw movie! :)

This poll was submitted to us. If you’d like to send us your own scenario (plus different ways a character might react to said scenario) so we could make a poll for you, feel free to send them to our inbox.

[whumperwithwings]

Sicktember Day 7

Borrowed Hoodie

"Whumpee, why are you wearing my hoodie?" Caretaker asked with a chuckle in their voice.

"Cause' it's warm and big and cozy just like you," Whumpee said drowsily, wrapping their arms around Caretaker "And I like that."

[seth-whumps]

Ideal caretaker whumpee relationship?

ohhhhhh okay so two answers

first of all I'm an absolute SUCKER for sibling dynamics. i love it so much. there's a devotion in being forged from the same hot iron. there's bitterness and hopeless adoration. i will kill for you and no one else. get your fucking feet off my dash.

secondly and this may be more niche, but I do love polyam teammates. i love a good too-many-caretakers-in-the-kitchen scenario and the more love packed into it the better. give that whumpee a hug. and another. and another. and another. and ano

[writingphoenix]

I love a good scene where Whumpee is restrained (bonus is it’s in an uncomfortable position) and either Caretaker or just someone they love is either them but unable to try to free them or give them relief.

[kindly-whisper-norbury]

If the authorities are watching my internet search history and seeing that I look up things such as the speed of different calibers of bullets, hacking terminology, torture methods, untraceable poisons, and emergency wound care, then they also must be able to see that the stories I post on AO3 include these things... and I would appreciate it if they would leave me a nice comment or at least some kudos once in a while.

I mean, obviously they can tell how much research I've put into it...

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - M is for Memory

A third piece for this month’s event Alphabet of Whump by @alphabetofwhump! I really really like this one >:3

Masterlist

cw: memory loss/amnesia, nudity mention (non sexual), pet whumpee, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, past abuse, recovering whumpee

——————

Mutt whined, a croaking sound that churned in his gut. The rain was only getting harder, faster, stinging against the wood and seeping in through the cracks, icy droplets plopping across his reddened skin.

Every inch of him was cold to the touch, with not a single luxury of clothing to provide even the smallest of warmth. The grass below him was pooling with mud, sticky and tainting him as he was balled up in a cage much too tight.

He couldn’t remember exactly what he did to deserve it - the cold and the fear was getting to his head and jumbling his brain all up - but no matter how freezing he was, Mutt was still sure he did indeed deserve it. Even if his leg were not chained and bolted to the wood, he would not have made the attempt to escape his punishment.

Stupid mutts who can’t seem to follow simple directions get the dog house. I thought you would’ve learned that by now, but it seems you’re just too dumb.

Say it, Mutt. Say it until you’ve gotten it permanently burned into your thick skull.

“S- st- stupid…,” his teeth chattered faster than his mouth could handle, tripping around his words and turning them to mush, “m- mutts get- t- t the dog houssse.” The last bit was left slurred and slushy, melting around his tongue. “Stuu- pid-,”

Interrupted by a crashing scream of the sky a wail of his own spilled out, aching in his chill throat. His knees dipped further into his chest, spine tapping the ceiling of his enclosure. It seemed even the outside was eager to discipline him.

Another flash of lightning, cracking close. Fat globs of tears mixed in with the rain, drooling down his cheeks.

Waking up, everything was a blur of darkness. Something flashed, just a swift flicker of light, as his eyesight worked desperately to adjust. Heavy breathing in his ears was found to be coming from his own lungs, quick with disorientation and panic.

It all died down to near silence once the still, blue room settled into sight, save for the creak of the walls and the continuous tapping on the roof. The dresser, the closet, the window, the bunk bed, his stuffed animal, all of it was there. So was Wesley, the only indication of his presence above him being the smallest shift in his sleeping position.

Even through his drowsy haze, the mere fact that Wesley was still nicely sound asleep allowed an easiness to wash through him.

Whatever woke Mutt, - that wasn’t right, but stupid mutts get the dog house - a booming roar rolling over clouds and through the sky, was loud and reverberating in his ears. The noise was terrifyingly familiar, and as soon as he caught a glimpse of the rain soaked window, he was sure what it was.

Making his way down the green soaked hallway, through the darkness he stumbled over his own feet and the blanket draped around his shoulders. Mutt hissed a whimper, curling in on himself as the thunder sounded once more, a chill shaking up his spine.

Stopping, holding himself steady with the wall, he wound his eyelids tight, as if that would block out the bitter noise.

Stupid mutts get the dog house.

Still too tired to clearly think, he didn’t know exactly why he left the room, where exactly he was going, until he got there. Their door was shut, the silence of slumber loud and clear, but he turned the nob anyway.

“Uh. I-,” he blanked, licking his cool lips. He stood at the foot if their bed, a surge of a dizzy daze tugging at the back of his brain. What was he doing? “I’m sorry.”

Oscar groaned at that, weak with confusion as he flipped over in his spot, struggling to locate his glasses on the dresser beside him.

Edith shuffled around in the bed, tied around in blankets, squinting through a wave of drowning drowsiness and an unlit room. “Who…? Graham, dear?” She mumbled, cocking her head.

Yes. That was his name now. Graham. “Y- yeah, yeah.” Giving the slightest of a nod, he directed his gaze to the floor.

“Who’s it…?” Oscar mumbled, face stuffed into the side of his pillow.

Too focused on Graham to answer her husband, Edith propped up her pillow and slumped back against it. “Did… did the rain wake you up?”

“Um, mhm, yes. Edith.” The name came out awkward and unfamiliar. He hoped she wouldn’t notice and get upset with him more than he guessed she already was - he’d clearly been struggling as of late not to call her by any sort title.

She motioned for him, waving him forward as she pulled the covers up to her lap. “You can come over here, sit on the bed if you like.”

Graham took a few slinking steps, shoulders hunched. Furniture was still… new. Uncomfortable. Wrong. Clenching his fist over his blanket, he sipped in a breath before neatly falling to his knees. She looked a bit dissatisfied with that, but didn’t say anything.

“Graham…? What’re you doing here?” Oscar said, finally sitting up beside his wife as he adjusted his glasses over his nose.

“The storm woke him.” Edith whispered, trailing her hand down his arm. Graham couldn’t help but let a little spike of jealousy grip him at that. “I take it you aren’t very fond of storms, are you?”

Timidly, he shook his head.

She smiled, a source of calm and peace that caved over the ache in his chest as her eyes glittered in the sliver of light from the doorway. He was inexplicably fond of her smile, but at the same time it knotted this little throb in his head. “Well, that’s just fine. If you’d feel more comfortable you can sit in here for a while, or I can bring in your mattress so you can sleep on the floor.”

It’s alright bud, you can snuggle up with me and momma. We’ll keep you safe and sound.

The pain got worse then, the little glitter in her eye was someone else’s, which of course didn’t really make any sense at all and he let his expression twist.

“Whatever you need, kid.”

Anything for you, sweetheart.

“I- just…,” Graham blinked, once, twice, head only deepening in heaviness with each. The shapes around him were fuzzing, contorting with white and he couldn’t tell why, he only knew it wasn’t supposed to do that and something was wrong-

“Woah there-!” She reached down as he smacked himself upside the head, and he jerked back from her. “Please- please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry-,” choking on his words and the lump winding over them, he did his best - which never did seem to be enough - to stifle a sour sob. His ears were filling with stuffed cotton, a little ringing rising from the depths. He said something next that he wouldn’t remember after, too overcome by the blinding of white. “I’m so sorry, mommy.”

“Oh, honey.” She cooed, holding her arms out for him to collapse into. He didn’t have the mind to think about what he was doing, how terribly out of place he was, and in the moment could only focus on Edith’s radiating warmth.

“Hey, there,” The couple guided him between them in the bed, Oscar pressing a hand to his back as he sniffled and cried. “Let it all out.”

Graham didn’t really understand why he was crying, what - or who - he was crying for, but the strain in his belly, the tremble of his hands, and the tense in his chest surely did.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She said, reassuring him, but at the same time he was so sure of the opposite.

Soon enough Edith was wiping his tears away with a soft tissue plush between her fingers, and Oscar was allowing him to rest his pounding head atop his shoulder. Slumber clawed at him and his fluttering, reddened eyes, but some part of him refused to drift off just yet, to relish in the heat of the moment.

“Doing better now?” Oscar rubbed circles into his shoulder blade, a motion that he couldn’t pry his focus from.

“Yes’r…” he mumbled, soft and faint, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

Everything he touched had been poisoned by his dirtiness. Yet, they still touched him, allowing him to sit between them two - on their bed even - tucking their blankets up and over his tummy.

Warm. It was so warm. Not only physically, but emotionally.

The following strike of rolling thunder to come wasn’t welcomed, but no longer was he cold and alone when it happened.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[serickswrites]

Unhand V

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced restraints, blood, burns, wounds, unconsciousness, bedside vigil, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee, hospital

Caretaker hadn't left Whumpee's side since the medical team had come out to the waiting room and said Whumpee was going to make. Caretaker hadn't let go of Whumpee's hand since being allowed to sit with them. Caretaker hadn't done anything since they came into Whumpee's room except watch Whumpee sleep.

Because every time Caretaker closed their eyes, images of finding Whumpee bloodied and covered in burns filled their vision. Images from the nightmare had bile crawling up their throat.

"You're alive, you're alive," Caretaker whispered, stroking Whumpee's fingers.

Whumpee looked terrible, though the worst of their injuries were hidden beneath the sheet. They slept peacefully despite the pain Caretaker knew they must have endured.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you. I'm so sorry. Please. Please, wake up. I'm here. You're here. Please wake up, Whumpee."

Caretaker knew it hadn't been very long since they found Whumpee--maybe only about eight hours--and yet they wanted Whumpee to wake. Needed Whumpee to wake. They needed to talk to Whumpee to remind them that this was real. That it wasn't another dream. That Whumpee wasn't lying dead in their bed and this was something their brain had invented to avoid the truth.

And so when Whumpee's fingers twitched in theirs and gave a soft moan, Caretaker's heart skipped a beat. "Darling?"

Whumpee's eyes blinked rapidly as they clawed their way to consciousness. "C't'r," they croaked, throat working hard to swallow.

"Oh, darling. Thank goodness. You're awake. You're awake," Caretaker reassured themself as they gave Whumpee a sip of water.

"You....found me," Whumpee rasped as they stared up at Caretaker.

"Of course I did. I couldn't let Whumper keep you. I'm," Caretaker's breath caught, "I'm just so sorry it took us so long to find you."

Whumpee's face contorted with pain. "Let me call the nurse," Caretaker said, rising from their seat.

"No," Whumpee hissed, their grip on Caretaker's fingers tightening to bruising. "No sleep."

Caretaker realized with a pang of guilt that Whumpee very likely suffered from nightmares from their time with Whumper. The two of them didn't want to be trapped in their nightmares and took solace in being awake. "I won't let them sedate you, but you don't have to be in pain."

"Please," Whumpee said, tears filling their eyes. "No sleep."

"No sleep," Caretaker agreed before pushing the call button for the nurse.

Caretaker watched as the nurse came in and assessed Whumpee's pain. They checked Whumpee's bandages before giving Whumpee some pain medicine in their IV after promising it wouldn't put Whumpee to sleep.

Whumpee yawned despite themself. "Darling, you should sleep. You need rest. You've been through so much." It's all my fault.

Whumpee shook their head. "Can't. Whumper..." their voice drifted off as a haunted look filled their face.

"If you start to have a nightmare, I'll wake you up. But you need to sleep. I promise, I'll wake you. I won't let you hurt, Whumpee."

Whumpee considered a moment. "Ok," they said softly. "I need you, though."

"I'll be with you. I'll be right here."

"Not close enough," Whumpee's lower lip trembled. "Not close enough."

With a smile, Caretaker climbed up onto the bed next to Whumpee, wrapping their body around Whumpee's. "Better?" They asked as the watched Whumpee visibly relax.

Whumpee nodded, their eyelids already drooping closed. "Love you," they whispered as their breathing became deeper and more even.

"Love you even more, darling," Caretaker whispered as they kissed the top of Whumpee's head. They hummed Whumpee's favorite song as a means to soothe Whumpee even further. Whumpee was alive. Whumpee was safe. Whumpee was in their arms and they were never letting go.

Tags: @cpt-winters@thequestingbunny@bloopdydooooo@tiny-feral-arachnid-man@inscrutable-shadow

@bookworm7543 @lgcgjd @madmadder @mefattortoise @lthrboy

@st0rmm @whumppsychology @gala1981 @whumperofworlds @hiding-in-the-shadows

@artisticdemon @alluringleopards @orangeduckweed @madmadder @mousepaw

@eight-littlenightmares @eyehartart @venomdoeswhump @firelan @whatwhump

@itsjessiegirl1

[whomeidontknowthem]

I met a dog with surgically partially removed vocal cords to soften her barking, which was also the time I learned that such a thing was possible.

After researching, I've reached a conclusion: it should be done to more whumpees.

Yours is too loud? Their screams are ringing in your ears? You're tired of listening to their rants, but enjoy their pleading enough to want to leave them some voice?

Perform devocalization on them today to ensure they never manage anything more than a husky whisper!

[whumperer-86]

Tortured, Electrocuted , unconscious, rescued , carried out , manhandled

The first shot cdrama ep15

There is mistake from the whumpee

he was carried out and his arms were left up the back of the people carrying him , his glasses didn't fell off at any time ,, his head wasn't thrown out

unconscious person can't held his head or arms

[whumperwithwings]

Sicktember Day 8

“The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!”

"Whumpee!"

Whumpee could somewhat see a person in the middle of their vision, and could hear panicked screaming. Their vision was an odd form of repetitive smoke, twisting and twirling into nothingness and somethingness.

"Oh crap, this isn't good at all, we're miles into the woods, can you hear me Whumpee? Please respond, please."

Whumpee's body exploded with pain when hands they couldn't see were placed upon their shoulders, shaking them, multiplying the pain further.

"Stop," Whumpee muttered out through the agony, spots appearing in their view.

"Okay, you're at least able to talk, I'm going to go back to the trailhead and look for help. Just stay here, alright?"

Whumpee mumbled something unintelligible, and the figure rushed off. Now Whumpee was all alone.