ActOneOllie

Whump and OC stuff | nb | 18+

[thingsthatgowhumpinthenight]

Whumpy OC ask game

Because I don't see those often and I think they're fun gosh darn it! >:)

Ask your friends about their Ocs or give them dealer's choice (or just take a chance to talk about your own, I'm no narc! XD)

Do you write this oc as the whumpee, the whumper, the caretaker, or switch it up?

Do you write them as part of fanfiction for existing media or as an independent creative project? If it's Fanfiction, which canon character(s) do you have them interact with the most and in what capacity?

What's the most self indulgent whump you've written in regards to this character?

What whump or care scene/art with them did you do the most research for?

If they're the whumpee how do they tend to express their pain? (screaming, crying, attempted stoicism, etc.)

What's something minor-ish that they just cannot deal with when it happens to them and makes them need help from [caretaker]? (eg: can't stand vomiting, PTSD episode when they slam their hand in a drawer, sensory overload from sunburn, etc)

Are they a good patient when they get sick?

Are they a good caretaker when someone else gets sick?

What's something weird that soothes them when they're in pain/don't feel well? Is there anyone who knows this "secret whumpee comfort hack" or are they forced to admit it in desperation/caretaker finds out through trial and error (and near saintly patience)?

What is something seemingly innocuous that can trigger them badly? (such as the smell of lilacs having been Whumper's perfume or turkey chili sending them to the hospital with food poisoning etc.)

What's their favorite "I don't feel good" food? (be it a childhood comfort, something they just find manageable during a bad time, or something that more directly helps them like chamomile for headaches/a certain soda that always makes them feel less nauseous etc)

Do they like physical touch as a means of comfort or do they withdraw from it? If they have a mix or certain things they like/people they allow, what's that look like?

Would they/do they come in to work while sick or are they the caretaker coworker who would wrangle other sick coworkers?

What are they the most likely to need a ride to the ER for at 3 in the morning? (or are they the person driving?)

Favorite symptom or injury to give this OC?

When [caretaker] does the classic "wet cloth on the forehead" for fever and/or general soothing, do they flinch away or lean into it in relief?

Can they manage crutches or will they bust their ass even further trying to use them?

What kind of caretaker are they? A silent bedside vigil guardian, sitting up the night in a quiet dedication, stoically preserving [whumpee's] rest? A soothing tactile presence, wiping [whumpee's] fevered forehead with a cool cloth or rubbing their back, just trying to keep them comfortable as best they can? A shy, skittish thing unsure of themself but dutifully kind and perhaps reading to [whumpee]? Or something else entirely?

Do they have any home remedies they insist [whumpee] try out? Do they work?

Are they squeamish? (as a whumpee, whumper, or caretaker? XD)

Tag me if you feel like sharing, but most importantly have fun! :)

[actoneollie]

Character A and Character B are in a romantic relationship but Character B is not good to Character A. It never crosses obvious lines but it’s… not wonderful. Character B knows this and is guilt ridden but cannot seem to stop. They are also pretty selfish and emotionally closed off. Character A vaguely suspects the relationship is bad but is too mindlessly in love to really recognize it or do anything about it.

Character A is endangered, kidnapped, tortured, removed somehow. Character B fucking loses it. Maybe Teammates wonder of this is really love or possessiveness. But regardless we all go and save Character A.

The rescue goes wrong and there’s a moment when Character B has the opportunity to get Character A out… at the cost of someone. It could be any member of the Team, easily, they see the way. But… Character B throws themself into the harm.

Then either a Wrath of Khan glass wall kinda deal or on a camera feed or a whispered, fading, deathbed conversation.

“Why? I n-need to-“

“Because I… this is all I c-could do.”

“What are you-“

“All those years, what I did… I’m s-sorry.”

“It wasn’t-“

“It was. Please… please just remember the good times. There should have b-been more. I’m so sorry. I l-“

“Character B? No… no, I love you. Please! Please, Character B!”

“They’re gone.”

“No! They’re not! They’re too stubborn to…”

Teammate closes Character B’s eyes/the shutter on the glass wall/turns off the feed. Character A screams and clutches the body/flings themself at the glass/smashes the camera against the wall.

Bonus points:

“You’re free of them, now.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to be.”

“Please, can’t you just… grieve, like the rest of us, and move on?”

“No.”

And Character A’s light is dimmed forever. They never love again. They treasure the emotional scars left behind and glorify Character B in their mind. The Team watches this with increasing heartbreak, helpless, knowing Character B, for all their flaws, would have absolutely hated what is happening.

Character A clings to the pain because it was how they came to understand love.

[which-ocs]

Which OCs?

[which-ocs]

Which OC? Who are they texting?

[actoneollie]

Multiple Whumpees but… Caretaker was also Whumper in the past. Hear me out.

CW/TW: parental abuse

“Whumper doesn’t hit as hard as Caretaker.” “Yeah, they should compare notes. I don’t even have ringing in my ears after.”

“I hate how distant Whumper is. At least Caretaker seemed to take an interest.” “‘The world isn’t gonna pull its punches, Whumpee, so neither can I.’ Yeah. Really miss those speeches now.”

“Y’know, if you really want to hurt me, just tell me all of this is for my own good.” “Yeah, and you could try telling us what a disappointment we are.” “Or how weak we are for screaming.” “That too.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Caretaker never did this. I don’t… I don’t know how to fix this.”

“C-Caretaker-! N-no, please-“ “It’s me. It’s me, idiot, not-“ “Don’t touch me-!” “Shit. I guess I really do look like Caretaker.”

And

“C-Caretaker? You’re here?” “Yeah. But if you start crying, I’ll give you something real to cry about.” “Missed you, too, Caretaker.”

[actoneollie]

Hey! I saw your ask in another blog that really inspired me, so I just want to say thanks:)

Thank you so much! I saw the Drabble you wrote and it was wonderful!

[sootheandsavage]

Stiches

The safe house was too quiet once the team left. Too quiet by half, and Song hated quiet. Her muscles itched even while she sat on the cot by the door, rifle leaning against her shoulder, every sense straining, listening for anything that shouldn’t be there. She told herself she was resting, but the truth was she never really rested. Phoebe had wandered upstairs for some reason, probably checking on supplies, or maybe just checking out, like she did when she wanted a break from everyone. Song didn’t like it. She didn’t like anyone wandering alone, and she especially didn’t like Phoebe being out of her sight. She was liable to do something stupid. And she didn't like how Phoebe had behaved during team checkup… She'd wait for another half an hour and then go check on her.

Then there was a thud. A loud, heavy thud from upstairs.

Song was up in a heartbeat, moving up the stairs in predatory silence, hand on her rifle. She shoved the half-open door.

Phoebe was on the floor, back braced against the wall, knees up, one hand clamped over her left flank. Blood soaked through her fingers and down her side, pooling on the floorboards. The trauma kit lay open beside her, a curved needle threaded and dangling from her bloody fingers, a single crooked stitch half-pulled through torn skin. She’d clearly tried to handle it herself… and failed.

Her head jerked up when Song filled the doorway. Her face was sheet-white, jaw locked, eyes glassy with pain and blood loss, but her voice came out sharp.

“Knife wound. Last exfil. Thought I could manage it.”

Song dropped to one knee, and peeled Phoebe’s hand away without asking. The wound was ugly. It was deep and ragged, with dark blood welling steadily. Definitely something the team should have known about.

Phoebe exhaled through her teeth. “You’re fucking stitching it. Now. No waiting for the others.”

Song’s eyes flicked to Phoebe’s face, then back to the wound. “Damn right I am.”

Phoebe gave a short, tight nod, already shifting into medic mode, no-nonsense. “Listen closely. First, flush hard first. Don’t be gentle, it's not a puppy, it’s a dirty wound. Pack the deep part with gauze before you start. Small bites, like that shitty gum you like. If my hands start shaking bad, loop the belt around my wrists and tie them to the cot frame so I don’t thrash and fuck your line. And when I pass out—” Phoebe locked eyes with Song, “—finish the row. Double-knot the last two. Wash again. Pack fresh, compression wrap tight. Do not leave it even the slightest bit loose, or you're getting shots first next year. Got it?”

Song’s jaw ticked. “Got it.”

Phoebe managed the ghost of a smirk. “Good. Then do it.”

Once Song began, she slammed the back of her head against the wall once,hard, then forced herself still. “Keep going,” Phoebe snarled through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna scream, but don’t you fucking stop.”

She did scream, once more when Song began packing the wound with gauze. Then Phoebe bit down on the sleeve of her own jacket, eyes squeezed shut, sweat rolling, and held.

Song worked with brutal efficiency: needle in, thread pulled taut, knot tied. Phoebe’s body jerked with every pass, breath coming in harsh, controlled pants, but she never begged for a break. Halfway through the row her head tipped forward, eyes shutting. She slumped sideways, unconscious but still breathing. Still breathing.

Song didn’t hesitate. She followed every instruction to the letter — even as her brain kept looping through swearwords on repeat.

Only once she'd wrapped the wound so tight it the cloth nearly ripped, did Song sit back on her heels, blood-smeared hands resting on her thighs, and let out one long, shaky breath.

Phoebe’s chest rose. Fell. Rose again.

She was still here.

Song reached over, brushed a sweat-damp strand of hair from Phoebe’s forehead with the back of a knuckle, then stood, grabbed the rifle, and took up position by the door to wait for the team. Katya could be the one to deal with her team member's self-sacrificing bullshit. She had plenty of practice with all the times she did it herself, after all.

[actoneollie]

Death Arena Whump except everyone involved is a member of the Team and they all know that everyone will be safe at the end. It might hurt like hell, but no one is actually going to die. Their job is to make it look convincing for the Bad Guys, for some reason.

“OH FUCK. God… please… stop-!” “Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” “Shut up, you know I failed grade ten drama. Twice.”

And then, maybe POV Whumpee, finally is the winner. I’d love if they were stunned it’s them. Alrighty, time to-

And everyone else is actually dead. They walk out of the Arena to the lines of corpses, remembering all the jokes they cracked, all the merciless decisions they made, thinking… it was all show. And their world crumbles around them as they are crowned and honoured.

[actoneollie]

Imagine two Whumpees who are connected somehow (hello partners in crime, romantic partners, siblings, reluctantly teamed up as investigators of the same crime) shoved into a maze in different areas and both having some form of limited communication. Thinking an ear piece, telepathy, even just emotional resonance. Something where they can’t geolocate or use magic to figure out where each other are, but slowly over time as they navigate the maze (which of course has many horrors beyond human comprehension) they begin to learn the rules and inch closer toward each other.

Depending on your mileage perhaps as they finally see each other, across a great distance, the Whumper/Bad Guy Org waits until the last possible second to mortally wound one of them. Who this is I think could be delicious depending on the situation. Is it Older Sibling who chokes out how glad they are the bullet didn’t find Younger Sibling? Is it Sunshine Character who succumbs to the black magic while Stoic Character is helpless and realizes too late just how much they cared? Is it the friendly artificial lifeform who clinically explains that the biological being is the correct choice for who to be permitted to live, and they were proud to be of service?

[actoneollie]

Imagine a Whumpee finally freed, dragged from the scene of their torment, safe in Caretaker’s arms, the worst is over. They feel safety begin to creep in and are shuddering with the aftermath.

And then… they begin to feel worse, not better. Maybe Whumper is dead, maybe not, but they left a final revenge. A delayed acting poison, toxin, curse, or spell that is slowly seeping away Whumpee’s life.

Can Team find a cure in time? Or is this a fleeting moment of comfort before oblivion snatches defeat from the jaws of victory?

[actoneollie]

TW/CW: torture, blood, bodily fluids, unwilling Whumper

It was remarkable how something could become background noise, given enough time and exposure, but also still be causing actual pain, at the same time. Whumper had gotten used to the screams, but damn their eardrums hurt.

“When you give me the information, this stops,” they said, their voice flat, detached. Unlike some, they did not enjoy work like this, but it was necessary… they told themself.

“F-fuck you! It’s not- not going to-“

A pause as Whumpee choked and hacked. A gob of saliva and blood hit the floor, adding to a growing puddle. Their head lolled and they breathed shallow, fast.

“Never… never going to… just… just stop, please, please…”

“It stops when you decide.”

“No-no-no-! Don’t. Don’tpleasedon’tyouc-“

A soft keening from Whumpee as another finger was bent back, too far. The tense stretch of ligaments and then finally the sharp little pop-snap. It echoed in the room briefly before the scream drowned it out.

“Nnraagh-!”

“The information,” repeated Whumper, trying to catch the gaze, trying to get inside. This was taking far too long.

Silence, not the kind as someone gathers their strength, but the kind where someone is thinking, thinking hard, through the fog. Whumper waited, then reached forward again, calmly, clinically.

“N-no wait! Wait just- just wait, p-p-p-please.”

Chattering teeth made it hard for Whumpee to get the words out but they managed to look up, their one open eye almost puffed shut. That eye could barely focus.

“P-promise me- just just just… promise me, me, something, ok?”

“What?”

Leaning down as Whumpee began to whisper, Whumper’s expression never changed. Then they pulled back and nodded.

“Yes,” they said, frozen methane on Uranus seemed warm by comparison to their voice. The moon’s dusty surface held more life. “Yes. Now. The information.”

~

The gunshot startled the Team into looking up, standing, every eye was wide, staring at the door. They’d been there… it felt like a week, though no one felt sleepy.

“Leader…?”

As Whumper entered the room, closing the door behind them, their hand stayed on the handle, their gaze on the floor.

“I got what I needed,” they said, voice nearly unrecognizable. “We can complete the mission.”

“And… Teammate?”

“I-“

Teammember stood up as Leader stared at the floor, silent. The click of the door opening and the soft gasp louder than a collapsing building in the silence.

“I… promised,” Leader quavered, voice finally breaking. “They- I promised. I’m so… sorry.”

[saintsofviolence]

ok hear me out whumpee auctions....

an agency that specifies in 'rescuing' whumpees just to put them up for sale. or maybe they specialize in finding whumpees who escaped and auctioning them so their whumper can hopefully try and buy them again...

each whumpee is brough on stage, their 'qualities' shouted to an attendance of whumpers, and then the poor things proceed to see the price they're worth and what people are willing to pay for them, essentially. it's not just degrading, but also embarassing. they don't want to be bought for cheap because that would mean they're ugly/useless/etc right? and usually, the richer the whumper, the better their 'sistemation' for the forseeable future. it's a tricky game.

[actoneollie]

Teammates watching the auction and unable to outbid a rich Whumper. The only time the team gets to see each other is during the auctions.

Team frantically trying to save up money to buy Whumpee the next time they’re up for sale and Whumper just flicking their wrist to up the bid a tiny bit more than everything they have.

Whumpee praying the team doesn’t have enough because returning to them after this would be too humiliating. They’re an object now. They don’t deserve the love and care the team would try and give them.

Whumpee trying to nonverbally convince Team not to buy them because they are too convinced they have no value anymore, they aren’t a person who is permitted to rejoin community/society, they are just an object to be bought and sold. There is no love or care for them anymore, they stopped being allowed that long ago.

Whumpee returning to team after being successfully purchased and feeling intense guilt about how much they cost. Working themselves to the bone to try and “repay” what was spent to rescue them.

Whumpee who has been in this system so long that they volitionally return to it after some time because trying to reintegrate is too hard/scary. It’s better to be in the agony, at least that’s familiar, than to be constantly waiting for the system to inevitably catch up with them, drag them back unexpectedly.

The team’s devastation when they discover Whumpee gone and check the auction listings and… sure enough, there they are. Whumper won even after everything they sacrificed and how hard they worked to help Whumpee really come home and heal. They failed.

[actoneollie]

Whumper starts appearing as Caretaker while hurting Whumpee. With use of drugs or magic or something.

The first time they show up Whumpee is so relieved, they’re being rescued. Then the hope dies in their eyes as the suffering starts all over again.

Whumper showing up without the disguise sometimes. Whumpee is so confused. Whumper might make up reasons why Caretaker was hurting them, or not. The explanation or lack of it would both hurt.

After a while Whumpee begins to doubt if Caretaker ever really cared about them at all. Maybe this is the truth, and the past was a lie.

Caretaker being shown what’s taking place and helpless to stop it.

And of course when the rescue comes, Whumpee is very difficult to manage because is this the real one or not?

After rescue they struggle to trust Caretaker at all, even if they believe the truth about Whumper in disguise because… is what I’m seeing real, now?

[actoneollie]

Two Whumpees brought in together and in order to protect each other they pretend not to know one another. And of course when Whumper discovers this, it’s play time.

Bonus points if they feign animosity for the benefit of Whumper. Extra bonus points if one is the leader and the other is very loyal to them.

“That’s it for today, A. Go tell B I want to see them.”

Flinch.

“…oh, oh you don’t like that idea, hm?”

“Nah, whatever, fuck B. I’ll just go-“

“Oh no, no, no… Bring B here… and then stay.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was going to let you rest but… you deserve a little show after everything. You can stay and watch.”

“…please, no, no don’t- just keep me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“It’s over, A. I know, now. Go bring B here or I will.”

~

“Whumper knows.”

“What?”

“They know.”

“No…”

“Just- I don’t know- just don’t give in. We can get through this. It’s going to be ok.”

“Please, no-!”

“Hey, B! Don’t panic on me. Just-“

“A? B? Where are you two? I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“…shit.”

[actoneollie]

Character A unknowingly inflicting suffering on Character B which is exactly what Whumper did to them in the past. Discovering it later and being horrified and guilty.

“Why didn’t you TELL ME I was doing exactly what Whumper did?!”

“It’s not important. I knew it wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t even that bad, honestly.”

“Promise me you’ll speak up about this stuff in the future.”

“I’ll try.”

[actoneollie]

Selfish Character A who throws themself back into Whumper’s hands in order to save not a loved one, but Character B, who is a stranger but the loved one of someone Character A loves.

Character A watching Character B suffer everything they suffered in the past, unable to do anything about it until the rescue arrives.

The two of them trauma bonding and forming a lifelong enduring connection even though a week ago they were strangers and all they have in common is the love of the shared person and the suffering.

Character A struggling not to resent Character B or the shared loved one as the time until rescue drags on.

Character A wondering if Character B actually cares about them at all or if this is just the best they have under the circumstances.

Whumper discovering this connection and gleefully using it as a new weapon. (“If only Name could see you now. Do you think they’re coming for you? It’s been quite a while. Maybe Name forgot about both of you.” “Maybe I’ll bring Name in here and we can have a nice little reunion. I’m sure you miss them. Wouldn’t it be nice to see them again?”)

[actoneollie]

Whumpee thinks they’re dying.

“Don’t cry.”

“You’re going to be ok. It doesn’t matter what happens to me. You are going to be ok.”

“Just go. Go! It’s over for me.”

“Hey, cheer up, we had some great times, didn’t we?”

“Tell Leader I’m sorry I failed.”

“Is… is it ok? Is everyone safe? Can I… let go, now?”

Common phrase/catch phrase, but cut off in the middle or said haltingly, fading with every word.

“At least I got to see your face one last time.”

“Worth it.”

“It’s finally over. I can rest.”

“No! Don’t waste resources on me. Please, don’t. Save that for everyone else. Please…”

“This isn’t so bad.”

“Remember me as I was, not like this.”

“Promise me you’ll live once I’m gone. Don’t let the past hold you back.”

“I never told you, it’s very important, you need to know-“ (either emotional confession or vital information the Team needs to survive)

“I was always headed for a bad end. At least now it’s over.”

“I never got to [lifelong dream]. You’ll have to, for me. Ok?”

“At least now I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Name [of someone who’s been dead a while]? Where is Name? I n-need to… to tell them…”

“No regrets.”

“Is Name safe? Are they ok?”

“I didn’t expect it to hurt this much, to leave you.”

“So cold…”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’ll get to see Name again.”

“This way I can buy you time. I was never any good for anything else.”

“Time to go.”

And of course “I love-“ (bonus points if it’s the first time they’ve tried to say it).