just another whump (re)blog

greetings! I'm cent, they/it pronouns. aroapl + transgender 18 y/o. psychotic narc w/ schizoid traits, if you're going to be weird about that please just block me. this is a sideblog btw

[whumpingandsmilinglikeanidiot]

whumpee carries around a pocket knife because

whumper doesn't like getting blood on their hands

do you guys see what's going on here

a minor wrongdoing followed by whumper's cold

"Three."

and quick three flicks and whumper gets back to whatever they were doing

and there's blood trickling down whumpee's forearm

[sassafrassmoke]

Whump trope that gets me every time: Whumpee is rescued but refuses to believe it's actually real or that it'll last

Maybe they hide this from Caretaker, maybe not ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[whumppmuhw]

"I don't want you getting weak"

Whumper had his foot on Whumpee's back, making it that much harder to stay up.

Whumpee wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. He knew he could hold a plank for a minute, but the one-minute mark had passed what felt like forever ago. His whole body was shaking, clothes drenched in sweat. All he wanted in this moment was for Whumper to make it stop.

"Getting tired, Whumpee?"

He didn't have the energy to respond.

"I don't want you getting weak."

Whumpee had never felt more weak in his life since he had come here. Physically, mentally, everything was meant to chip away at his strength. He didn't have any autonomy, had no control over his own life. He was weak.

Whumpee was groaning and tearing up as the last of his strength left him. He collapsed to the floor, Whumper's boot pressing into his back.

"Done already? I expected more of you."

"P-please," Whumpee begged, panting heavily. "I can't-can't do it anymore."

"Fine. Take a break. I have all the time in the world." Whumper removed his foot from on top of Whumpee and walked out. "Little shit," he murmured, loud enough for Whumpee to hear.

Whumpee didn't get up for five minutes. He didn't want to.

[inkwell-and-dagger]

have your whumper-turned-whumpees be hurt in such horrible ways!!!!!! humiliate them! use their own methods against them! in fact, make the methods worse! beat them to an inch of their life and have them say word for word that they deserve it!

break them so much they can't even mutter a pathetic attempt of an apology without coughing up blood and / or sobbing! in fact, if they refuse to apologize, take away their speech entirely! they were too loud, anyway.

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

whumpers who are impossible to bait. whumpers who never get angry. whumpers who dont entertain pointless arguments and screaming matches. whumpers who are so confident in themselves and the fact that they hold all the power that they know they dont need to engage in any of that. whumpers who can smile in the face of a raging snarling feral whumpee because theyre untouchable and theyve already won

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

i have no excuse. im sorry. but this popped into my head and now it must exist. its not even whump i just. u'll see

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, invasion of privacy

"Don't go in there!" Beck said pleadingly, quickly rushing to stand between Helle and the closed bedroom door. "Please. That's my room. It's– it's private, it's... it's where I sleep–"

"Yes, that is often the purpose of a bedroom." His desperate attempt to stop them clearly backfired, because the vampire looked even more intrigued now. "Are you hiding something horrible? Something embarrassing, perhaps?"

"I'm n-not hiding anything, just... I don't want strangers in my bedroom."

"Strangers?" Helle looked wounded. "How many bites for an acquaintance? Or do you often let strangers bite you?"

"I don't want my acquaintances in my bedroom."

"Very well." They stepped away, sighing. "There is nothing I can do but respect the home owner's wishes."

Technically, I'm renting. He didn't say it, not wanting to give Helle any loopholes to exploit. But he soon realised the vampire didn't need a loophole as he was shoved aside and they marched right in.

"Was that what you were hoping I would say?" came their voice from inside, and Beck ran after them. "Do not be so naive. I said I wanted to explore the house ful– oh. That is adorable."

"Don't touch him!" He wasn't fast enough, of course he wasn't. Before he could do anything, Helle snatched the little thing from his bed, cradling it in their arms.

"What a sweet fellow," they cooed, giving the plush bat the biggest, fondest smile. Beck stayed still, suddenly very nervous about making a move Helle didn't approve of. Would they be so evil as to hurt Boba? "You absolutely cannot tell me you were hiding him. I would be heartbroken."

"I..." He watched as Helle squished the bat a couple times, seemingly enjoying themself greatly. "N-no, I wasn't..."

"Good. What a delight to know that one of my kin has already taken up residence here. Obviously, you are not opposed to housing creatures of the night."

Housing? "Y-you don't want to stay, do you?" he stammered, still anxious about his vulnerable friend being held by such a monster. Helle glanced up and shot him a mischievous grin.

"What if I do?" They nodded towards the stuffed animal. "Does he have a name, by any chance?"

Beck bit his lip. This was so stupid. Why were they asking about a plushie he had? Why couldn't they just be disinterested? "Boba," he muttered eventually.

"Would you really deprive sweet Boba of appropriate company?"

"You are not appropriate company. Boba has no ties to you or any vampire." Oh god, this was such a stupid argument to have. But he just wanted to have this one thing, the little piece of joy that still remained in his life even with the constant pain and paranoia. Couldn't they even let him have that?

"You sadden me." They gently placed the toy on the bed where they'd found it, and Beck snatched it up immediately, holding it close to his chest. "But no, I do not intend to stay for long. Possibly a few hours." Their smile softened as they looked at him; Beck would've almost described it as sympathetic. "Dear Boba is safe from my evil ways. I promise."

The vampire rarely ever made promises, that was one thing Beck realised about them very early on... nor were they particularly trustworthy. But this time, they seemed sincere. He hesitantly nodded, still holding the bat tight. "Thank you."

Maybe... maybe Helle still had some semblance of humanity left in them.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

i couldnt help it. prev masterlist

tw vampire whumper, begging, dehumanisation, threat of death, suggestive stuff but less so?? idk i lost sense of whats conventionally horny long ago, implied kidnapping

Beckett was just trying to get home. He wasn't coming from a night-out, his only sin was having worked late into the evening not even by his own choice. His desire to crawl into bed and hide under the covers was greater than it ever had been, and he knew no boss was going to make him stay after nightfall if he survived this.

The vampire had almost looked angry under that peaceful facade they put on, at least before he admitted he was terrified. That seemed to placate them somehow, and he wished he were smart enough to use that to get out of this hellish situation without fangs in his neck.

But they weren't going to kill him, right? They'd said no killing, if he kept quiet?

As the vampire's lips brushed against his neck and their cold breath washed over his skin, he could vividly imagine the creature opening their mouth, just about to bite– "Wait!" he blurted out, his voice a little too loud and making him flinch instead of his attacker. But the thing froze too, before they slowly pulled back, red eyes searching his features.

"Wait?" they repeated, sounding a little amused. Beck didn't think they'd ever been told to wait. "And whatever shall I wait for?"

He looked for an answer desperately, eyes darting between the vampire and the end of the alley. There wasn't a single soul around, and he couldn't come up with anything believable; but sticking with the truth hadn't hurt him before. The thing was looking for honest answers, right?

"I– I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm s-so scared–" he stammered, sniffling a little. "I'm so scared of dying– p-please, please promise me you'll let m-me go after, and I won't struggle, I–"

"Promise?" The vampire was stifling a laugh by the looks of it. "So I have to pay a price to be granted the privilege of drinking from you, a helpless mortal I could enthrall and drain and you would be none the wiser until you were drawing your last breath. Maybe not even then — maybe you'd drift peacefully... But you want me to promise you your life in exchange for a single bite."

Beck shrank under their gaze, squirming uncomfortably. He was helpless, that much was true, but at least the vampire didn't seem offended by his nervous blabbering. His stomach churned as he realised they might just be playing with their food, a cat lifting its paw only to see the mouse, blinded by its drive for survival, run straight into its other one.

"I just want to live," he whispered, and the vampire hummed thoughtfully.

"I could lie," they pointed out. "I could promise you anything and everything."

"B-but you don't have to–"

"I don't have to do anything. I don't have to lie, lure, enchant or poison– I don't have to listen to you."

"But you do," he breathed. "I d-don't know why, I don't know, I don't even know why you stopped, I know you didn't have to!" The vampire shushed him, and he realised with horror that he was slowly raising his voice. "I'm sorry–"

"I have not taken a single human without my powers before," the creature cut in, in a tone that was almost conspiratory; a secret shared between the two of them. "I must admit, it is refreshing to hear wants and needs that aren't aligned with my own, thus I was inclined to hear you out. And it is adorable that you have taken that to mean you have some sort of... leverage here. But let us not get carried away with that fantasy."

Beck choked on a sob, still unable to avert his eyes. So that was it? The vampire wanted to hear him out only to shatter his illusions and specifically deny him anything he might've hoped for? "Please?" he tried again, his voice trembling as much as his body. "I– you're right, I can't– I can't stop you, I'm–" He sucked in a breath, trying to find the right words to appease someone clearly power-hungry, someone who got off on tormenting him. "You decide whether I live or die," he stated bluntly, and the vampire's eyes lit up. "I'm n-not– I'm not bargaining– I have n-nothing to offer. I'm begging you. Please."

There was a long moment of pause between them, the vampire's eerie stillness a stark contrast to his own utter inability to stay put with all that anxiety rattling around in his chest.

"I do decide that," the vampire said so hungrily that Beck thought he'd gone too far, riling up the monster past the point of no-return. But then they chuckled, soft and so entirely amused, sighing in a way that almost made him think they found him endearing. "You're trying your very best to say what I want to hear, aren't you? Oh, dear... what am I to do with such a good little human? Surely, I cannot drain you after all this."

Beck tensed up when the vampire leaned in again, knowing that this time there was nothing he could say to stop them from biting. But that was almost a promise, right? At least half of it? As close as he would get?

"But I also cannot leave you," they murmured, and Beck's heart sank. "No... I think I'll keep you."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

tw implied murder, implied captivity, sadistic whumper, psychological whump

"Do you know that game, two truths one lie?"

Whumpee nodded nervously. "Yes, sir."

"Why don't we play a little, then?" Whumper's saccharine smile did nothing to ease their anxiety, but they forced themself to return it anyway. "One. I have every intention of hurting you and your friend horribly."

Whumpee swallowed and nodded. That one was likely a truth.

"Two. Caretaker will walk out of here alive."

They opened their mouth to say something– and then closed it. They hoped that was a truth.

"Three. You will walk out of here alive."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

tw injuries, psychological whump, emotional whump, self-deprecation, lashing out, very wacky/distorted way of thinking

Whumpee came home way later than Caretaker had expected. They jumped up from the couch where they'd been curled up, ready to give their friend a big hug and ask where they'd been for so long.

"I just wanna sleep," Whumpee said before they could've done either of those things. "Please?"

Caretaker reached for the light switch. "I just wanna know–"

"Don't!" Whumpee snapped, making them freeze. "Please. Not right now. I can find my way around with my phone. Plus, the bugs will come in if you turn the lights on now."

"I... okay. Okay." Caretaker stepped back, letting their friend walk up the stairs without another word. It was strange, but they didn't smell any alcohol, or any other substance. Whumpee really just seemed tired.

The next morning, Whumpee was locked inside their room. Caretaker knocked softly, hoping to only catch Whumpee's attention if they were already awake. They heard an inquisitive 'mmm?' from inside, and they took a deep breath.

"Can we talk about last night?"

"I don't want to."

Caretaker nodded to themself. They had to be a little more stern. Just a little. "I do. And I'm worried. I'd just like to know if you're okay."

"I am."

Well... that didn't lead anywhere. "Please come out."

"Can I sleep some more first?"

Caretaker sighed. "Yeah. Of course. Please come out once you've slept enough."

It had been several hours when the door finally opened. Caretaker tried not to be pushy, but they had to at least poke their head into the hallway. Whumpee was way overdressed for the weather inside, and their hair was covering half their face. Caretaker frowned, immediately recognising it as Whumpee hiding something.

"You wanted to talk?" Whumpee asked quietly. They seemed... scared.

"Yeah. But you're not in any sort of trouble, okay?" They beckoned Whumpee over to their room and they hesitantly complied, sitting on the bed while Caretaker took the chair. "What happened?"

"I lost track of time," they said curtly. They were wringing their hands nervously, eyes darting around the room to avoid looking at Caretaker. "Sorry. And then I was really tired, like I said."

"Where did you get the bruises?"

Whumpee's eyes snapped up to them, wide and terrified. Bingo. Caretaker hadn't seen any bruises, but they just had a hunch. "Wh- what bruises?"

"The ones you're covering up now. It's hot inside, you would never wear this stuff otherwise. Is that why I couldn't turn on the lights either?" It was slowly dawning on Whumpee that Caretaker didn't actually know for sure, and they'd just given themself away with their reaction. They looked down at their lap. "Whumpee, I'm not mad. I'm concerned. Can I see?"

"I'd rather you not."

"Please."

Whumpee shifted a little, tucking their hair behind their ear with shaky hands. They had a nasty black eye. "Can we stop here?" they whispered.

Caretaker bit their lip, really wanting to push until Whumpee showed them all the injuries so they could treat them. But that wasn't what they needed right now. "If you don't have any that require immediate attention, yes."

"It's all just bruises."

Caretaker nodded. "No broken bones?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay." They leaned back in their chair, trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room. "You get into fights a lot," they began carefully. Whumpee shrugged.

"I guess."

"You seem to like getting into fights a lot." Another shrug. "You seem to... it's like... you don't want to win them at all. You never have any chance of winning."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to tell me why you go out there and provoke people into beating you up."

Whumpee tensed up a little, then just shrugged again. "That's a stupid accusation. I don't do that. I just get into fights because I have opinions, that's it."

"You know that's not true. You start fights and then let them use you as a punching bag. That's what you do. And I don't understand why."

"I don't either!" they snapped. "Okay? Is that what you wanted? I don't know! It's weird, it's pathetic, it's disgusting, it's stupid! Is that what you want me to say? I know all that! And I don't know why I keep doing it!"

"Calm down. I'm just–"

"It hurts!" They pushed up the sleeves of their sweater, revealing bruises left by people yanking them around a little too forcefully. "It hurts, it's not fun, I– I never know how to stop it. Part of me doesn't want it to stop. So I just don't say anything. I just let them do it until it hurts too much and I cry like a stupid baby. And then they laugh and leave me alone– or they get angrier and go even harder. 'Stop starting fights you can't finish!' I wish I could! Okay? I wish I could keep my mouth shut."

Caretaker stood up from their chair and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to their friend. They pulled them into a gentle embrace, allowing them to cry openly. "Why do you punish yourself so much?" they murmured. Whumpee shrugged again.

"I... I'm so scared. I'm so scared of being bad. I don't want to be bad." They took a shuddering breath, chuckling a little. It quickly turned into more sobbing. "I feel like... so long as I'm the victim... but, but only while I'm the victim, and a good victim, a quiet one... I can't be the bad one."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

tw conditioning, pet whump, captivity, starvation

"What are you?"

"Fuck off," Whumpee spat. Whumper looked unfazed. They weren't the one starved and dehydrated, of course, why would they be fazed?

"What are you?"

"Just give me the fucking water, man! Dead, dead is what I am if you don't fucking give me that!"

"What are you?"

If Whumpee had any water left in their body, they would've cried. This was so messed up and stupid. They resolved not to answer this time, because to Whumper's credit, at least they never repeated their stupid question if they didn't give a 'wrong' answer.

The silence stretched between them, only ever unnerving one of them. The one who had something to lose. Whumpee's eyes were fixed on the water bottle, and they subconsciously licked their mouth. They were so thirsty.

"A pet," they muttered eventually. Whumper didn't look smug at all, nor pleased.

"What are you?"

"I said the fucking thing! A pet! A fucking pet! Can I get my fucking water, please?"

It was infuriating. Like talking to a goddamn brick wall without a single emotion or response.

"What are you?" they repeated for the thousandth time, always calm, always gentle.

Whumpee took a deep breath and thought about the refreshing, cold water sliding down their throat. "I'm a pet, sir."

The small bottle was tossed into their cell, and they scrambled to get the cap off and empty it immediately, as fast as they possibly could. It wasn't cold at all, but it was refreshing, it was life, and their life was all they had left after being stripped of everything else.

"See you in a couple days?" they mocked. "When you try to pull this out of me again? Because I'll let you know right now, if you think I'll just start answering your stupid questions after this, you're an idiot."

Whumper extended a hand, and Whumpee rolled the bottle across the floor so they could take it away. Whumper grabbed it with a small smile, the first Whumpee had ever seen from them. "See, this is progress," they said softly, holding up the empty bottle. "The things you do for me without hesitation. It's all about the little things. Right now, the big thing is admitting what you are. Soon, that will be a little thing you do for me without thinking, because you'll have another big thing to resist. Isn't that beautiful?"

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

tw shock collar, blindfold

Whumpee froze when they felt the shock collar wrap around their neck. Even with the blindfold on, the telltale pressure on their neck from the prongs told them everything they needed to know. They didn't move, didn't even breathe for a moment.

"You know what that is?" Whumper asked casually.

"Y-yes, sir."

"Oh, good. Then I don't even have to demonstrate, hm?"

"No, sir. I– I'll behave."

"Not your first time in one of these, I assume... I appreciate the cooperation. Unfortunately for you, it's my first time, so I gotta see what it does either way."

[whumpshaped-deactivated20250109]

make!! ur whumpee!! feel little and stupid!!! patronise them!!! be sarcastic and condescending to them!!! coo at them and praise them for the simplest things!!! in fact only ever give them stupidly simple tasks and force them to do said tasks and act like it must be super hard for them!!! never ever give them proper enrichment or stimuli so that they cant keep up their original level of smarts and wit!!! chip away at their brain until they rly do get a little dumb!!! knock on their stupid empty head often and remark how hollow it sounds!!! not a thought in there!!!

[erdarielthewhumper]

When the whumpee's just too weak to take any action to protect themselves from danger or fight back even though they're in danger still

It's not that they've lost their will to go on, or their fighting spirit. It's not that they've decided that stopping their own struggling and hoping for an intervention by an outside force is their best chance. It's simply that their body physically does not have the strength to act, no matter the amount of their willpower.

Maybe it happens slowly, weeks or even months of suffering chipping away at their strength bit by bit. Maybe it's quick and sudden, one terrible injury or devastating illness stealing their strength all at once.

Just... whumpees who've still got the will to struggle on but whose bodies just can't

[whumpfish]

Physical Signs of Extreme Pain: Weird Edition 👽❤️‍🩹🤷‍♀️

I've made some pain reference posts over the years, but apart from passing out from pain, I haven't gotten much into the just plain weird shit the body does when it's really hurting. Time to fix that.

Fireflies: Sure, seeing spots is a thing. Black spots on the edge of your whumpee's vision, getting closer in slow pulses when they're having trouble breathing and struggling to hang onto consciousness. But when they just straight up hurt, your whumpee can get weird little floating things that flash like fireflies or tiny pieces of metallic silver confetti drifting around. In my experience, they've been linked to effort--they tend to either start or multiply fast when I stand up or otherwise try to move when I'm in unusually intense pain.

Shivering: Not because your whumpee is cold or in shock, but because their muscles are taut to the point of strain (because the body responds to pain with muscle tension), and when those muscles can't tighten further, they shake. It's the same mechanism that makes your fists shake if you're angry and clenching them past the point they can reasonably be clenched, just all over.

Teeth Chattering: No, seriously. In my experience, it mostly tends to happen as the shivering escalates, but I've had it just start up on its own when I get slammed with a spike in pain out of nowhere like cramps, or if I'm late taking a dose of my meds. I hate it because in the first place it's annoying, in the second place it's very noticeable, and in the third place I have absolutely no control over it. Clenching my teeth doesn't stop the muscles from trying to make them chatter, it just makes them (even more) sore. Also it's hard to talk, and I bite my cheek and tongue. A lot.

Ear Stuff: A ring that your whumpee feels as much as they hear. It's not a tone like a lot of tinnitus is, it's more like the pressure-changing "sound" you'll get as a plane takes off. And it feels like it's physically inside their ears, like someone has taken the world's heaviest, smallest ball-bearing and stuck it in their ear canals and it's trying to pull them down into and through the floor.

The Air Hurts: Your whumpee gets an all-over feeling like someone pressing lightly on a bruise, and the more they think about it, concentrate on it, the more their brain becomes irrationally convinced that the air has become dense around them and that's what's causing it. Because nothing is there, there is no external pressure, it's just pain signals behaving in a goofy way, and their brain is scrambling for an explanation. They might subconsciously pull their hands or other exposed skin into their clothing, or hunch over and pull everything in toward their chest to "protect" their skin from the air around them.

Have chronic or acute traumatic pain? See something missing from this post? Add on!

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee had wild and unpredictable magic- and it terrified them. The whumpee would sometimes accidentally hurt the people they cared about, so of course they sought out the only person that could possibly contain their power- the whumper. The whumper may be strict, unjust, and sometimes downright cruel, but to the whumpee, it was better than hurting their friends.

[snapcracklewhump]

Favorite prompts for fever? 👀

Thanks for the ask! Fever is one of those whumps I enjoy on nearly every character. 

Delirium from a high fever. Whumpee is frightened and disoriented. The things they say don’t make any sense, but it doesn’t stop whumpee from trying to get others to understand. Or maybe they’re so weak that their distress can only be expressed in quiet murmurs or whimpers.

A whumpee who becomes emotional when they have a high fever. It messes with their head, and a whumpee who might normally be quiet or reserved suddenly cries at the drop of a hat. (Please have caretaker wipe away their feverish tears.)

Bone-deep chills that seem to shake whumpee to their very core. Nothing seems to warm them even though they’re already burning up. They’re shaking so much that they can hardly get a sentence out. 

Feverish confessions. Maybe with a fever, whumpee outright admits something they normally wouldn’t. 

Or maybe, they let slip a series of small admissions that caretaker puts together into a truth whumpee would never dare say aloud. 

Caretaker cradling whumpee to their chest, feeling them shiver despite the uncomfortable heat. 

The relief that floods over caretaker when whumpee’s fever finally breaks. They push the sweat-soaked hair off of whumpee’s forehead and finally they know that everything will be alright

[absolute-barbarism]

whump hack #1: you can always, ALWAYS add a fever