-- This blog contains graphic descriptions of violence and a number of sensitive topics that may be triggering to some people --
Proceed at your own risk.
About me: My name is Hayden (any pronouns except for it), I really love reading books and mangas, and tumbrl short fics of course. I made this blog so I can have a space to reblog and maybe also post about whumpy and angsty things.
I follow from @/mus**********me
Asks: open | DMs: mutuals only
Fav whump/angst tropes: lab experiments, torture, long term captivity, war scenarios, trapped under rubbles, exhaustion/sleep deprivation, non-con body modifications, dehumanization, ptsd and recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker x whumpee, forced to hurt, depression/suicide, probably others I can't think of right now.
I like to explore different tropes and ideas so there might be pretty much anything in this blog.
the number 1 rule of fanfic is have fun and be yourself. the number 2 rule is the average healthy adult male can lose roughly 2 liters of blood before dying.
Caretaker who is so grateful Whumpee is home safe. Who would do absolutely anything for them now that they’re back.
Caretaker who has to check on Whumpee every few minutes, even if they’ve been sleeping for days, just to make sure they’re still okay.
Caretaker who tosses blankets in the dryer just so Whumpee can be extra warm.
Caretaker who finds just as much peace in holding Whumpee’s hand as Whumpee does.
Caretaker who gives hugs that last longer than everyone else’s. Who pulls away teary eyed, because they know just how much Whumpee is hurting.
Caretaker who cries themself after Whumpee falls asleep, exhausted from another breakdown.
Caretaker who combs and untangles Whumpee’s hair so gingerly, careful not to tug too hard or rip out any strands by accident.
Caretaker who always leaves a light on at night for Whumpee so they’re not lost in the dark, and who gladly stays all night when Whumpee is too afraid to be alone.
after re-reading for editing i have one question for the general and it's is the intolerable misbehaving in the room with us right now? show me the intolerable misbehaving.
cw: military whump, captivity, pow, starvation (mentioned?), resigned whumpee,
The guards throw him on the general's rug without any care. His bound hands are useless to catch himself, and he only hurts his wrist when by trying. One of them kicks him in parting, and Leo bites his lips to prevent any sound from escaping him. The general doesn't spare any of them a glance, not even looking up from the document he's reading.
The guards leave, the tent growing quiet. Leo slowly straightens. He doesn’t get any further than to his knees, silently waiting to be addressed. A few months ago, he would have been screeching, struggling, lunging at that man to tear his throat - with his teeth if he had to - but he has learnt better.
There's a weight settling in his stomach, a nervous kind of energy spreading through him. He doesn’t even try to hide the trembling in his hands; he's starved and exhausted, shaking is nothing new.
There's the shuffling of turned pages, and Leo glances up. The general is still not paying any attention to him. He looks down at the rug under him. Dirty and rough, spots that would be unidentifiable except – it's blood, of course it's blood, some of it probably even his.
He'd thought it coarse even through a layer of cloth, the first time. Now, it feels almost like a luxury.
"The guards tell me you haven't been eating."
The general isn’t looking his way, writing something down with that fancy quill of his. He hasn't been asked anything yet, so Leo stays quiet.
“We spent quite some time… rationing you. I recall your being quite distressed by the idea. So distressed in fact,” the general finally looks up, pointing the tip of his pen towards Leo as the corner of his lips lifts in a slight smirk “that when the guards brought you to this tent, at your own request, you dropped to your knees, right in that spot, and begged.”
He uses his desk to push himself up, approaching Leo with slow, steady steps.
“Did you feel like repeating that day, mutt? Should I ask for stale bread? Teach you open, and chew, and swallow again?”
Leo doesn’t reply, keeping his eyes on an interestingly shaped spot. Those aren’t questions you answer, he’s learnt; those are questions you get struck to.
The general stops in front of him, in the perfect spot for a kick to the sternum. Or the face.
“Look at me.” He doesn’t wait for Leo to obey, fingers tangling in his hair to tilt his head. “We had an agreement, didn’t we? Why the sudden defiance?”
Leo tries to turn his head. It’s going to hurt, no matter what he says, so he’d really like for the general to grow bored and leave him in peace. The general grabs his chin, holding him in place.
“No. We are having a conversation. Unless you’d like to wait until screams are-”
“Don’t-”
Leo expected the hit, not the kick that immediately follows. He folds in two, hands still useless to steady himself. The general sighs, as if disappointed, and takes a step back.
“Don’t interrupt. Explain yourself.”
Leo swallows, slowly straightening back up while keeping his eyes on the general’s shoes.
“I’m not hungry.”
The general scoffs, starting to walk. He’s slowly circling around Leo, who curls up tighter in hope of softening the blow he’s sure will come soon. He follows the general from the corner of his eyes for as long as he’s able to, stilling when the man leaves his sight.
“You know better than to lie to me – or should I go over that lesson with you again?”
Leo feels the ground shake slightly as the general gets closer to him. He can’t help but to shiver, trying to curl up tighter. Something hits him in the back and he forces himself to straighten. He keeps his eyes facing forward, knowing better than to look.
“Your misbehaving is becoming intolerable, mutt. My patience is not limitless, as you know. Try again.”
Leo has to remember to breathe, having instinctively held his breath. He can feel how close the general is, and bracing himself for a hit only worsens his trembling. Blood is rushing through his ears, and he’s sure the numbness in his fingers isn’t from the rope. His lips part, and he’s not sure where the words pouring out of him are coming from.
“You won’t kill me. Thought I’d do something.”
There’s a chuckle right next to his ear. It doesn’t blossom into full-bellied laughter, but it lasts long enough that Leo shifts a little uncomfortably. A hand settles atop his shoulder, tightening painfully around him.
“Did you, now? And why would you want such a thing, hmm?”
It feels like he’s bearing the general’s whole weight, and it presses him down. Leo doesn’t feel grateful for the rug anymore, knees painfully digging into every single strand, it feels like. He tries to relieve himself of part of the weight by leaning forward slightly but the general only follows, still looming over him.
“Is life in my camp truly so harsh? I’ve been kind to you, no?” His grip shifts slightly, and Leo feels something in his shoulder move. “Certainly, nicer than the guards. Is little traitor unable to cope with the morality of his actions, is that it?”
Leo doesn’t snarl – he knows better, he’s too exhausted, he’s not sure – but he raises his head and turns to look at the general.
“I’m not a traitor-”
The general’s fingers dig into his shoulder and he cuts himself off with a whimper. The man’s expression is devoid of any emotions and Leo’s breath catches in his throat. He forces himself to speak again.
“I’m not a traitor.”
The general’s lips twist into a smile. “No? A dog brought to heel, then. A mutt in need of discipline, if I’m feeling mean.”
He finally lets go of Leo’s shoulder, fingers tangling in his hair instead. “I thought you’d learnt something from the time we’ve spent together, but apparently that hasn’t been the case.” He exhales sharply, speaking into Leo’s face. "You are property of the empire. And before that" – the general’s grip on his hair tightens and he pulls Leo’s head back sharply – “My property. I have the final say about everything that concerns you. If I have food brought to you, I expect you to eat it. You will die when I am done with you, not before, and certainly not on your terms.”
He holds him in place, meeting Leo’s tired eyes with contempt. Leo is dropped, and this time doesn’t even bother to try and catch himself. He has a feeling the general would have kicked him down, anyway. He sees the general walk away, the man returning to his desk.
“I expect an answer. It’s something even your sham of an army must have taught you.”
Leo twists just enough to rest his cheek on the rug. He looks away from the general, eyes on the light filtering from outside. He closes his eyes, the words like ashes on his tongue.
“…Yes, sir.”
There’s the scratching of quill on paper again, and the general stops paying attention to the prisoner in the middle of his tent.
[image id: On the left, a drawing of a nondescript character smiling and throwing up peace signs, labelled "First fanart of a character you liked". On the right, the same character is seated in an elaborate dress, with feathered wings, in front of a birdcage covered in sparkle. This drawing is labelled "30th fanart of the character. This is how you know you're cooked". /end id]
What would it take to make a GOOD person a Whumper? I thought I'd share these thoughts because I LOOOVE villains with complex, completely reasonable reasons for doing terrible things. If this inspires more good person >> Whumper conversions, I WOULD BE SO HAPPY.
A Whumper who is manipulated into the role is not just as an interesting plot point, but a great exploration of how a decent person can become a perpetrator without intending it.
And the person doesn’t have to be secretly evil or immoral— because positive, admirable traits can be twisted and weaponised by anyone motivated enough to do so.
Someone who feels injustice keenly, can be seduced with the power to "put things right".
Someone who desires connection and friendship can be offered the chance to belong, by serving a "greater purpose".
Loyalty can easily become lazy thinking, when it becomes easier to go along with an established norm than do the risky work of rocking the boat.
Responsibility can be diffused when other "good" people are also doing the same things. After all, if what they were doing was bad, someone would raise the alarm, right?
The desire to protect is a major reasons for power misuse. If one can be convinced that vulnerable individuals are being targeted (THINK OF THE CHILDREN!), it doesn't really matter whether the danger is real or not.
Someone can be convinced to dehumanise another if they can be given sufficient proof that they are "not like us". Maybe this person is less developed, or less intelligent. Doesn't experience the world the same way. Has different moral values.
Decisions that need to take time can be forced by creating false reasons for urgency
Manipulators can encourage isolation and group-think by creating mistrust and suspicion in differing and dissenting voices.
If the stakes to stay on the safe side of power are high enough, there is very little reason for someone to challenge the norm that is creating harm... because there is always the possibility that YOU end up on the other side of the bars.
Of course, this is a non exhaustive list. Unfortunately there are so many great examples in the real world now.
I love that writing (and reading) is a way of trying to understand things they might be too dangerous, painful or intense to make contact with in real life. Fiction provides distance and low enough stakes to explore foreign / unfamiliar ideas in a meaningful way.
Whump in particular deals with power imbalance in a way that very few other genres are willing to delve into.
VIVA LA WHUMP!
Here's a short chapter I wrote where a good man slowly comes to the realisation he's been manipulated to Commit Whump. I gave myself the heebie jeebies writing it.
whump prompt: writer whumpee thrown into the world of their own works, completely blissfully unaware of said fact until they one day wake up locked up in a cell...
only to find their most traumatised character walking in with a devilish smile.
As in whumpee uses themself as bait to lure in whumper. Could go many ways, but I in particular am imagining this:
Whumpee had escaped whumper a while ago, and they knew whumper would come looking for them. They successfully made it impossible to find them, completely disappearing. But now whumpee has a taste for revenge... they purposefully make themself visible to lure whumper to them... though this time, the roles aren't going to be quite the same as they were before... (;
Whumper comes in cocky that they finally found whumpee, but all that really happened was them walking right into their trap. (:
