the question, you see, is not ‘is it too ooc for this character to cry’ but rather ‘what circumstances would push this character to cry’
this is the whump wisdom, go forth and make that character cry

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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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EXPECTATIONS
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Three Goblin Art

roma★
YOU ARE THE REASON
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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One Nice Bug Per Day

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hello vonnie
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@despairdragon
the question, you see, is not ‘is it too ooc for this character to cry’ but rather ‘what circumstances would push this character to cry’
this is the whump wisdom, go forth and make that character cry
when a powerful figure is reduced to kneeling. when the lord is forced to bow. when the exile stumbles into an unwelcoming bar. when the “beast” is chained by their horns. when a god is dragged behind their enemy’s chariot, a captive and trophy. when the loyal “guard dog” character is muzzled and the silver-tongued thief falls silent in horror.
that’s the shit
it’s about the contrapasso. the reversal of roles and the sudden, plunging terror of being unable to hide.
*Kicks down the door* YOU KNOW WHUMPY TROPES I LOVE SO MUCH BUT BARELY EVER SEE?
MAGIC FATIGUE/EXHAUSTION/OVERUSE.
Give me those sweet side effects of overusing magic:
Getting lightheaded and weak, struggling to stand let alone keep fighting
"Are you ok?" "Yeah I'm fine. *immediately faceplants because their legs can't support their weight anymore*"
F a i n t i n g
Physical injuries like burns, broken bones, etc
The risk of permanent damage either physically or mentally
Can I get uuuuhhhhh "loses a sense either temporarily or permanently depending on the severity of the overuse"?
Stopping their heart (cue the team scrambling to drag their dumbass friend back from death)
THERE'S SO MUCH YOU CAN DO AND I SO RARELY SEE IT.
Can't forget classics such as:
Bouncing back of said magic (burns from fire magic, electric scars from shooting lightning, ice burns from oce magic, etc)
Classic nosebleed
Magic risking to take over (involuntary bursts of magic, magic taking over and corrupting parts of their body, etc)
sorry in advance, my babies
"I despise you" and I have a dagger to your throat while I stare shamelessly at your lips
It's not MY fault they're so easy to whack with a comically large angst hammer
i wan tto bite him and crush his skin between my teeth and kill him and eat him and kill him kill him kill him DEAD cuz hes soooooooaoososoooo cute ^_^
I just really love when their voice breaks from the pain, when they have to strain to get any words out and they’re interrupted by involuntary noises :’)
giving someone a wound, especially slow, with a knife, holding them in your hands, feeling them bleed, hearing them groan, digging in deeper and deeper until the blade is entirely swallowed by the flesh, then to coo and hush and caress and comfort as you pull it out, slower this time, gentle, the heat and suction fighting to keep you in, screams pleading for release, and tending to the wound, gauze pressing and soaked through, blood weeping as a kiss to your fingertips, copper ring around your knuckles, the same hands that tore open now suturing shut. idk sounds like a romantic date to me
forcing them to say thank you while u brutally hurt them <3
"Nobody ACTUALLY wants anything bad to happen to these fictional characters-" I do. I want these motherfuckers to break.
“C’mon mutt, look at the camera. Your owner wants to make sure you’re still breathing.”
Whumptober 2023
Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
And this years playlist can be found here.
There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!
We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
good idea: whumper tying their whumpee up and forcing them to cuddle
whumper’s arms wrapped tight and possessive around whumpee’s injured form—too strong to be fought off, or perhaps whumpee is just too weak by this point.
a softly murmured "behave” into the crook of whumpee’s neck while spooning
whumper digging their nails into the fresh cuts, getting a whine and hiss from whumpee—but they stop struggling, and whumper leans in close to their ear with a growling murmer— “hm. good boy.”
whumpee feeling slow kisses pressed into the side of their neck that make their skin crawl
whumpee gets their hands bound in front of them this time, so they can fit in closer against whumper. and its more comfortable too— “shh, let yourself enjoy this.”
whumper cuddling with their hand around whumpee’s throat, not squeezing or anything, just… resting there.
knowing that if they tried to pull away, that hand would tighten instantly and squeeze until whumpee was dizzy and writhing back against them
and size difference… whumpee’s throat, so small and soft and delicate under whumper’s rough fingertips
the way whumper’s hands would fit around their waist— the way they could press in under their ribs until whumpee is choking and their chest is spasming
whumpee shivering when they feel low whispers in their ear. just… so sticky and possessive
whumpee waking up with sore aching muscles from being kept in the same uncomfortable position all night, only to sleepily try and flex their muscles and move around—and then to be hit fully awake with a jolt of cold panic upon realizing where they are—that they still can’t move at all.
waking up with whumper’s arms still tightly wrapped around them and trying desperately to squirm away, only to feel whumper’s hold tighten around them and hearing a sleepy possessive growl in their ear, “mnn… no. you stay.”
just… any of the ‘tied up and kept like that’ tropes melt my fucjfen brain
(today’s episode of sticky intimate whumper shit was brought to you by the dual minds of myself and @unorganisedalienrubbish)
🩸 or 🤒 for mell and siveter?
🤒 Needing to be looked after
--
"No, stop, let me go-- let me go, let me GO!"
"Mell, Mell, please, it's only me, it's only your pet--"
At the sound of his voice Mell let out a long, broken wail, writhing against the tangle of their sheets. The sound made 638970's heart beat faster, pounding so hard that he felt like he could see it beating through the fabric of his shirt, and a spike of pain lanced through his head, nausea twisting his stomach. "Wake up, please. M, master, please, please wake up!"
But Mell's eyes remained screwed shut, tears leaking from the corners onto the pillowcase, and helplessness settled over 638970 like a shroud, his arms feeling abruptly too heavy to lift. Pain prickled behind his own eyes, the threat of tears obvious in the blur at the edge of his vision.
"Please," he whispered. "Please."
Gradually, Mell's cries began to die down. Full-throated screams turned to sobs, and then to quiet, broken whimpers. The thrashing stopped, replaced by an unnatural stillness, like they were wrapped so tightly that they couldn't move. Restrained.
Something about the sight felt-- familiar--
638970 pushed that thought away before it could go any further, focusing back on Mell's face. He swallowed. "M-- Mell?"
Mell's eyelids fluttered, then slowly began to raise, blinking open in the dark. They stared at 638970, breathing hard, before swallowing and looking away. "I-- hey. Sorry. Just.. just a bad dream. It's not your problem."
Their voice had the same timbre as Handler Park's had, on the occasions when he said he'd stop soon. The sound of a lie.
But...
Pets don't question their owners.
638970 bowed his head, his hands clasped gently. "How may I serve you best at this time?"
"...Dunno." Mell's voice was flat, exhaustion suffusing every word. "I don't know."
638970 nodded. "If I may, you have melatonin and chamomile tea in your cupboards. Would either option be helpful in returning to sleep?"
Too stiff, said Handler Kobayashi's voice, in his head. What are you, some kind of robot? No one's gonna want you like this.
I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm trying...
There was a long, silent moment, and then Mell sighed. "Yeah. I... yeah. Either of those would be good. Both. I don't care."
A wave of relief swept over 638970, and he nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, Mell."
Don't worry, master. I'll take care of you.
CW: dubcon, manipulation, pet whump Maybe his Master really did forget he was chained up outside, left in the freezing cold and pouring rain for hours. Or maybe they just thought it would be funny. Either way, the pet was drenched when Mavik finally brought him back inside. His clothes were soaked and plastered to his skin. His lips were tinged blue and trembling, just like the rest of him, shaking hard enough to make his teeth chatter. Master was scolding him for not calling to be let inside, even though they had told Dia not to make any noise when he was put outside. Dia just…didn’t know what to do anymore. He tried so hard to be a good pet for his Master, but it was never enough. There were no rules he could follow, because the rules were always changing. He could be rewarded for no reason, punished for no reason, all because his Master simply felt like it. It was exhausting. It was torture. It was hopeless. He wasn’t just numb from the cold as Master stripped him and toweled him off, not bothering to be gentle at all. The towel was rough on his wet skin, pulled at his scalp until it ached, but Dia didn’t care. He just had to stop caring at some point, because Master obviously didn’t. He was less of a pet and more of a plaything. A toy. And toys weren’t meant to be loved and cared for. They existed to be used, to be a source of entertainment, an outlet for stress. Dia was fully expecting Mavik to either dump him in his room to finish drying or fuck him, because that’s probably the only reason Mavik brought him back in. It seemed to be the latter when Master led him into their bedroom, telling Dia to get in bed while they undressed. Dia obeyed silently, emotionlessly, laying down naked on the covers. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoy it. Master didn’t care about his enjoyment, just how tight he was. A hole to fuck. Dia stared up at the ceiling, feeling cold everywhere. His skin, still shivering, and his heart, lacking the warmth that he craved. He waited for his Master to open his legs, to make use of their favorite toy – and was surprised when his Master started spooning him instead, pulling Dia closer as they wrapped an arm around his waist and curved their long legs to fit the shape of his. Mavik pulls the covers over both of them, their breath hot on the back of Dia’s neck. Dia feels a sudden surge of warmth – from the thick covers, from the soft bed, from Master’s body heat pressed up against him, seeping into his skin, leaving no space for the cold.
It’s overwhelming, it’s exactly what Dia wanted, and tears sprang to his eyes when he thought about losing it, when he imagined it being another cruel game his Master loved to play. Before he can stop it, he starts sobbing. He knows Master didn’t give him permission to cry, but that only makes him sob harder. “I-I’m s–so—” He can’t even get the apology out.
But instead of scolding him again, his Master gently shushes him and pulls him closer. “It’s okay, precious,” they coo, and even though Dia knows it’s fake, he clings onto the sweetness in their voice. “You’re still shivering. Do you want Master to warm you up?” Dia can feel them getting hard behind him, and has a good guess as to how Master will do that. But if it means being held like this, and being soothed, and being warm, and not feeling like a disappointment – yes. Dia wants that more than anything. “Y-Yes, M-Master.” Mavik hums in approval. Dia feels their lips on the back of his neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses as the arm around his waist unwinds, and a hand slides up his stomach to cup his breast. Dia inhales sharply, biting his lip when his nipple is toyed with, when Master starts lightly pinching and rubbing in a way that makes Dia’s toes curl. “Don’t hide those lovely sounds from me,” Master says, so Dia stops biting his lip and gasps when the other receives the same attention. “You’ve been such a good boy, Dia. You deserve a little treat. Don’t you think?” Their hand leaves his chest to slide down his stomach and dip between his thighs. Dia’s breath hitches when his leg is lifted up, and Mavik uses their own leg to keep it raised. “I-If you say s-so, Ma–ah!” Master must be feeling very generous. They usually didn’t bother to prepare Dia first, but now they were slipping two fingers inside, patiently stretching and sliding in and out in slow, deep strokes that had Dia moaning softly, his thighs trembling from something other than the cold now. It felt like a dream. It was too nice to be real, and yet…it was. Because his Master could be good to him, very good, and it was moments like this that made up for everything else. “I know what you’re thinking,” Mavik says, and Dia worries for a moment if they actually do. “You deserve a much kinder Master. One who can appreciate just how good you are. I’m so bad to you…but I can’t help it.” They sigh against his skin. “I can just never be satisfied. Never be happy with anything. But you’re the closest thing I have to happiness, precious.” Dia was shocked. Touched. Confused. Conflicted. He felt so many things, too many things, and he couldn’t voice any of them, because then Mavik was pulling their fingers out to play with his clit, rubbing in deep, tight circles. Dia felt bad for his Master, knowing that now. He felt selfish for wanting a new Master, a nicer Master. If he could manage to make his Master even a little happy, the pain and suffering would be worth it. It had to be worth it. Because he wasn’t getting another Master.
Dia (he/him) and Mavik (any pronouns)
—
Shelter Pet AU Taglist:
@whumpsday @thebluejayswhump @mothmxwhump @whumpshaped @pigeonwhumps @nowjustanothermain2notjudge @mikaelaix @secretwhumplair @nyooom @heavenly-whumper @cowboy-anon @bones-arent-real @hollowgast1 @whumptier @whumpinthepot @goronska
General Art Taglist: @icyheart-and-friends @whumpsday @estoult @darlingwhump @whump-queen @oddsconvert @cryptidwritings @sparrowsage @wolfeyedwitch @free-therapy-xoxo @firapolemos05 @whumpinggrounds @whumpnonny @whumpshaped @sukoshimikan @cursedscribbles @26-letter-symphony