whumping-times

[whumping-times]

when character a is barely conscious and being princess carried by character b and when b goes to put them down a whimpers and fists their hand into the fabric of their shirt and b goes shhh shh shh and takes their hand in theirs while gently cradling their head oughhhhhh oughhhhh………….

[whumping-times]

sleep depravation in whump is good, because i think we can all relate to just being so exhausted you can't do anything. how can a whumpee protect themselves, plan an escape, or even think straight when they're running on fumes?

but i was thinking about taking it a step further, and forcing a nocturnal whumpee to be awake during the day, and asleep at night.

a vampire whumpee, exhausted beyond measure, being beaten all day while their body screams for rest, or pricked with pins when their eyes dare to close, and then once the sun sets, sitting awake and in pain all night because their internal clock says its not time to sleep anymore.

eventually they'll adjust, edging carefully around the shadows of a window left open on purpose to let in cruel daylight, sitting fully awake in the shade of the curtains in their room, and longing for the cool quiet of night time.

and when night does come, their sleep is troubled, fear jolting them awake every couple hours. it's so frustrating, but what can they do? they were conditioned not to sleep when their body says to.

they're constantly exhausted, constantly foggy brained, and too weak to fight back.

there's no way they'll ever get a good night's rest again, who knows what whumper might do to them while they try to sleep?

[whumping-times]

I love whumpees who are terrified of caretaker.

Maybe they don't know them. Maybe they've seen what caretaker's capable of; or wtinessed what they've done. Whumpee doesn't trust them and wants nothing to do with them.

But in the end, caretaker was the only one who came for them. They pulled whumpee out of the bloody mess whumper left them in as whumpee clung to caretaker's neck trembling.

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“No, wait a second! wait! Please— just wait!”

“I thought you were tired of me hurting you. I’m giving you a break.”

“No! Don’t hurt them— I can take it. I’ll do it.”

[whumping-times]

dialogue i kinda go feral for

Characters who are unhinged/ self-destructive edition

"If I don't make it back, run." They know they don't have a fighting chance against the trap Whumper's set for them. They're still going to try.

"Shut up and fucking fight me." There's blood dripping from their nose and they wipe it away, lunging to their feet after being knocked down.

"Is it just me, or did you used to pack a better punch?" Sardonic, biting back the tears. They can't hear through the ringing in their ears and Whumper twists a hand into their hair, forcing their head up. "Just you."

"Don't touch me. I said, don't. touch. me." Whumper's hand finds their throat anyway and Whumpee, in restraints, can only snarl. Whumper smiles. "What are you going to do about it?" Whumpee's eyes flash, dangerous, brilliant, then bite down hard on Whumper's hand.

"Ah, yes, Whumper, remember when I said I would destroy everything you loved? I'm here to follow through on that." Behind them, something is burning and they're leaning on their weapon for support. They lift it slowly. "Ready? I am."

"Everyone get behind me. Now!" An explosion. Brilliant, flashing pain, then nothing.

"Fuck you-- don't lock me in here! I can still fight!" Whumpee slams their fist against the door as Caretaker reluctantly backs away from the glass, guilt-stricken. But they cannot let Whumpee leave. Not in the state they're in, not with the unhealed mass of lacerations on their back and arms. "So help me," Whumpee shouts through the glass. "I'll break this door down!"

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We should have more carewhumpees.

More caretakers who neglect their own needs, pushing aside and downplaying their issues, trying to care for whumpee.

More caretakers who feel guilty for not having done enough, sooner.

More who need to fix it even when it isn't their business and they shouldn't. Who step in when nobody asked them to.

And maybe this need to do good, to be a hero, is to make up for something they did before, or something they failed to do. Maybe, no matter how much they help, they never feel like a good person.

They never feel worthy of their own love.

Even though they need it the most.

[whumping-times]

The whumper rolling the whumpee over with their boot. Pressing their steel toe under the whumpee’s ribs. Kneeling on the whumpee’s chest while mocking them for not being able to get a word out.

[whumping-times]

Five Types of Living Weapon Whumpees

The guard dog -> loyalty has been ingrained into their bones, following their handler around like their shadow. No one dares stand against the organization because of the legendary dread surrounding this living weapon. They hardly say a word but every movement is calculated, eyes always darting, always watching. (“You always were their lapdog.”)

The loose cannon -> dangerous for both sides. Always talking back and never predictable, their value is dependent on their skill. If it wasn’t for that, they’d be dead a long time ago. Their loyalty is earned, not bought. No one wants to be on their bad side, walking on tip toe whenever they show up. And they enjoy it. (“What’s everyone looking at? Aren’t you happy to see me? I even brought my rifle!”)

The broken down -> most common type of whumpee I’ve seen. They’ve been overpowered and forced into the commission. They hate their handler more than anything else but see no way out. When they’re told to shoot, they don’t even blink. It’s always “yes, sir” this and “yes, sir” that. If they feel any sympathy, they don’t show it. They’ll do anything to avoid punishment and flinch at quick movements. Nothing they face on the field is worse than the cards they’ve been dealt. (“I understand, sir/ ma’am. I-I’m sorry.”)

The dissenter -> Usually recruited into the organization or joined as a last ditch option. Not necessarily against using their abilities or skill, they just hate being told what to do. As time goes on and their disobedience is punished over and over again, they grow reluctant. Bitter. With every order, they slip in a snarky comment. Roll their eyes. Anything to assert their own identity. Or what’s left of it. (“ah ah ah, you didn’t think i’d notice? The middle finger was a bit much. I’m afraid it will have to go.”)

The ghost in the machine -> known only by their codename by outsiders and by their number in the organization, they’ve been stripped of all humanity. They live, breathe, and think by their handlers orders. They’ve been told over and over again that they are just a weapon. And a weapon does what it’s told. Their anonymity is attached to the organization in the same way a gun is simply an extension of their arm. But at night they still stare up at the ceiling with a blank stare— did they ever a life before this? They can’t remember. (“It’s not like it’s a person. It doesn’t have feelings like that.”)

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Kneeling

Pushed to their knees, hitting the ground painfully enough to make them grimace

Forced to kneel as a stress position, on the hard ground or on gravel or on shards of glass

Kneeling formally, for a long time. They want to keep still for this, they want to show respect, and it hurts, but still, they do it

Kneeling as a sign of submission. With this gesture, they're not only humiliated, they also sign themselves and their whole family over to the other's rule

That defiant glare of a whumpee who is on their knees, bruised and bloody with hands tied behind their back, but still ready to defy their captor to hell and back

Ordered to kneel and complying, prepared for the pain that will inevitably follow, because otherwise their friend gets hurt instead

Kneeling down to beg, to show their submission and maybe be granted mercy if they do it prettily enough

Kneeling down to formally plead for their friends or loved ones sake. Pressing themselves to the floor ever deeper the more desperate they become

Tied up, blindfolded and being made to kneel. Then left alone, in the dark, in the dreadful quiet, to wait for they know not what fate

Kneeling before someone in veneration, looking up at them as though they were the sun

Or, kneeling before them, head bowed, ready to accept whatever they will choose to do with them. It's a calmer, more deliberate version of that same veneration as before

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“Maybe someday we’ll rest. For now, we’ll hide.”

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love a fictional character who will scowl and tell people “I’m not sick” “I’m not hungry” “I didn’t get injured”

meanwhile he has an extremely high fever, he ate some soup last week, and the blood is soaking through his jacket

[whumping-times]

59

inspo by @whumping-times

[tw sadistic choice, death, murder, guns, multiple whumpees]

“It’s simple, really,” Whumper said with a grin, the gun in their hand not yet cocked. Whumpee was to their right, bound and gagged, and Friend was to their left, the same way. “You can choose which one survives.”

Caretaker’s heart sank. They were chained to the back of the basement, unable to reach either of their best friends. All they could do was stare at their wide, tear-filled eyes, and listen to their scared whimpers. “You can’t— You can’t do this,” they stammered.

“Oh, but I can. And I am.” They tilted their head to the side. “Which will it be? Oh, and before I forget — if you refuse to choose, I’ll simply shoot both of them.”

“You can’t do this!” Caretaker yelled. “You can’t! How am I meant to choose?”

“I don’t know, but you best figure it out fast. I’m not a very patient person.”

Caretaker’s eyes darted between their friends. Whumpee, hushed conversations on the phone, staying up in the treehouse until dawn, copying each other’s homework. Friend, learning to ride a bike together, playing pranks on their teachers before their graduation, baking cookies together. There was so much history with both of them. It was an impossible choice.

“Tick-tock,” Whumper mocked. They cocked the gun, making both Whumpee and Friend break down sobbing. “You can save a life.”

“I can’t choose,” they cried. “Please, don’t do this. Please. I love them both so much, please, don’t make me do this.”

“Is that your final answer?”

“No! No, I—” They tried to decide based on how their friends were acting; maybe one of them would look calmer, or maybe one of them would give some sort of signal on how to choose. But all they saw were two people absolutely terrified of dying, their eyes betraying nothing but their raw desire to be chosen. There was no help. They had to make the choice on their own. “I choose Whumpee,” they breathed.

“Wonderful!” Whumper said, delighted. Friend cried out into their gag. “I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s not your lucky day,” Whumper told them, aiming straight at their forehead.

Caretaker looked away, squeezing their eyes shut.

Bang.

[whumping-times]

Living Weapon Whumpee having a bad day after one of the missions and finding the team they're assigned to sitting around and playing cards. Whumpee getting down on their knees next to one of the team members and hesitantly resting their head against the team member's thigh. Whumpee silently begging to be pet like a dog or at least just allowed to say here because they just haven't positive, non-painful human contact in years and they're just... cold.

Bonus points if they choose the member of the team that hates them the worst because that's the one they feel the biggest need to please.

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grab them by the hair

grabbing a fistful of their hair to hold them in place for the next punch or slap

grabbing their hair to force them to look at you

grabbing their hair to make them bow

grabbing their hair to slam their head back into the wall

grabbing their hair to smash their face on the floor

grabbing their hair to make them bare their throat to you

grabbing their hair to stop them moving away from the blade or syringe at their neck

grabbing their hair to dunk their head under water

grabbing their hair to rub their face in a mess

grabbing their hair to pull them across the room before throwing them down where they belong

grabbing their hair to hold them up when they’re about to slump over

grabbing their hair to drag them up to their knees from where they lay on the floor

placing your hand in their hair when they’re already kneeling just to remind them what you could do with it

stroking their hair as a half-hearted apology after pulling a little too much

comment more please :)

[whumping-times]

Alright Whumpblr, I want to test a theory (that I believe has been tested before)

No options for other things because I don't want stats to be skewed

Reblog for a bigger sample size!

[whumping-times]

you know what whump trope I love?

the same dialogue being used for both whumper and caretaker, but in very different contexts!

“This’ll hurt,” (Before being tortured / before taking off a Bandaid)

“Don’t move.” (While whumper restrains them / while caretaker brushes their hair)

“Quiet down.” (Whumper yelling at sobbing whumpee / caretaker gently shushing excited whumpee)

“They’re not coming for you.” (Whumper telling them no one will save them / Caretaker telling them no one will kidnap them)

“I’m only trying to help.” (Whumper pretending to take care of them / Caretaker actually taking care of them)

“You’ll never see them again.” (Whumper mocking them / Caretaker reassuring them)

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Whumpee being forced to destroy something with emotional connection. Maybe it’s a comfort blanket, because they desperately need bandages. Maybe it’s their favourite necklace because it got caught and they need to go.

Bonus points if the rest of the team don’t know about the emotional significance, so they get mad at Whumpee’s hesitance, or they break it without first asking Whumpee.

Bonus bonus points if whumper forces whumpee into this situation, knowing damn well how much that item matters to Whumpee.