ᯓ★mushkil karde jeena mera @hibiscusmalvaceae - Tumblr Blog

ᯓ★ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ .ᐟ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ .ᐟ

im sonic! i use hammer/hammers/hammerself pronouns. call me princess <3. i speak hindi and english. i am desi. im a whump enthusiast. this is my whump sideblog!

i kin sonic the hedgehog! he was also my very first blorbo.

feel free to ask me anything! drop by for any reason—my ask box is open and anons are always on!

personal main blog is gandeevam. follows will come from there!

#whump #whumpblr #whump intro #whump community #whump blog #whump writing #pinned

hi all!! its been a while since my previous post. i thought i might say that ive been busy. its been weighing on me. ive just been prepping for entrance exams and so ive been preoccupied with that. my mental health hasnt been great either, but thats because of stress from my family about college. ill try to fill up a queue and post regularly! shukriya aur alvida.

#ᯓ★ ɢᴏ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ .ᐟ #whumpblr

living weapon who is touched gently for the first time in her life. living weapon, who starts shaking. living weapon, who falls apart over that one gentle touch.

caretaker, who doesnt understand why. caretaker, who panics. caretakers mouth moves. she doesnt hear it. she reads his lips. shes good at that. he asks her gently—whats wrong?

the gentleness, she wants to say. the gentleness is wrong. the softness shes being touched with. maintainance isnt about being painless. its about efficiency. anaesthesia isnt efficient. the constant, low murmur of his voice isnt efficient. the way he hesitates before every stitch, before every wound, isnt efficient. why is caretaker so gentle? why does caretaker murmur encouragement to her? she doesnt need encouragement. she never has.

she shakes.

caretaker soothes her. like a wild animal. he tells her shes doing so good. shes so brave. it should feel patronising, but it doesnt. for the first time in her life, she has the overwhelming urge to cry.

he sees tears in her eyes. he softens. he pulls her into a hug.

that makes everything worse. hugs are for people. she is, very decidedly, not a person. she is a weapon. she always has been. this is what she was raised to be.

so why is it that she cries into his chest?

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅꜱ: ᴅɪᴠɪɴɪʏᴀᴇ

#✮`— ᴡᴀʟᴋ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴀᴡɴ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ᴠᴇᴇʀᴏ ᴋᴀ ᴠᴇᴇʀ .ᐟ #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #living weapon whump #living weapon whumpee

the cold clarity whumpees feel when they realise that they wont survive. especially when it involves self sacrifice.

leaders. the way they smile, sad and filled with things theyd never say out loud. they dont want to die. they want to protect their people for as long as possible. but this is the end of the line for them. they need to die here, so that the next generation—their successors—may thrive.

living weapons. they know their duty. they will fulfill it. they have feelings about this. they squash them down. feelings are for people. feelings arent for them. they are doggedly loyal to the very end. they die with a heart full of regrets, and a prayer on their lips. may their next life be gentler.

stoic whumpee. they had people who rooted for them. who waited. who stayed, despite stoic whumpees best efforts to shove them out of their life. and now, theyre alone. at the end, they are alone. as it should be. as they wanted. isnt this what they wanted? for nobody to know how vulnerable whumpee is? how much they longed to be loved? how much feeling they still have left in them? they die, but everyone else lives. maybe that is enough. it has to be.

young/naive whumpee. no longer smiling. theyre scared now. they call out for help, panicking. they did this to themselves. they chose this. and now, theyre scared. they shouldnt be. they said theyd be brave. they said theyd be strong. where did that courage go? it left when their team did. it left when their people turned. when they ran. whumpee told them to go—and yet, it feels like betrayal.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅꜱ: ᴅɪᴠɪɴɪʏᴀᴇ

#✮`— ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴜʀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ᴠᴇᴇʀᴏ ᴋᴀ ᴠᴇᴇʀ .ᐟ #whump community #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #living weapon whumpee #stoic whumpee #leader whumpee #self sacrifice

i think about muzzles a lot. namely, muzzles on a living weapon.

living weapons tend to lean towards stoic individuals. i like to imagine mine as a cheerful, charismatic leader. somebody who uplifts those around them. the one people rely on. the hope of their realm. their words motivate. their voices steady, proud, warm, welcoming. they always have something kind to say to everyone, or something funny to put them at ease.

those voices, silenced.

glaring up at whumper. at their captors. snarling wordlessly, screaming as best as they can. being forced to stay silent and still. being made compliant.

the marks on their face when the muzzle comes off. torn, bloodied skin, crusted over, likely to scar. their faces, known as heroic, steadfast, and unmarked—now forever carrying the shame of what they went through.

it makes them look weak. pathetic. it makes their humiliation public. now, everyone knows what they went through. now, everyone knows they werent strong enough to resist. that they were muzzled like an aggressive animal.

something about the power trip whumper goes on fuels me.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅꜱ: ᴅɪᴠɪɴɪʏᴀᴇ

#✮`— ᴡᴀʟᴋ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴀᴡɴ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #living weapon whump #living weapon whumpee #muzzles #muzzled whumpee

i love the calm moments after whump.

i love when the world seems to hold its breath. i love when the stars look gently down at whumpee and their friends. i love when the moonlight is soft, the noises of the world are dim and far away, when time flows like molasses. when the action is over, when the weapons are laid down.

when whumpees head finds their friends' shoulder.

i love nightime conversations. quiet voices, still carrying in the soft dark stillness. the gentleness of a sigh, the soft puff of breath made visible in the chill. the concrete rough beneath their thighs.

when their lovers' fingers lace with their own.

calloused, lovable fingers, fingers that whumpee has kiss hundreds of times. fingers that have cradled their face so gently. fingers that are just as stained as their own. always, always gentle.

when their rescuers pull them out of the dangerous, painful situation they were in.

a warm blanket, a kind word, concerned people milling about. being gentle, kind, soft to somebody in need. to whumpee. crouching, hands visible, voice patient. whumpee never has to say more than they can speak of in the moment. they understand.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

#✮`— ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴜʀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #i dont know who this divider is by if anyone knows pls lmk shukriya #whump #whump community #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump writing #comfort whump #hurt/comfort

i adore bodyswaps. especially when theyre done between living weapon and their love interest.

living weapon, whose body is held together by sheer grit. living weapon, who has never known a day without pain in their life. living weapon, whose nerves scream each time they move, whose bones ache when it rains. living weapon, who has more scar tissue than skin and hair. living weapon, who has pushed through every battle, and come out on top.

living weapon, who hides it all under a smile.

love interest, who is softer, gentler, doting. who has been living weapons caretaker before. who has patched them up countless times. who has stood by them in battle. who has never known pain as intimately as living weapon.

or,

love interest, who is just as hardened. love interest, who has taken care of living weapon—and living weapon has taken care of them in turn. love interest, who has been through pain and suffering. love interest, to whom pain is a scorned lover exacting revenge.

bodyswaps with both are equally as fun.

love interest doubles over, gasping and crying, begging for mercy. living weapon, astonished at not being in pain. living weapon, concerned, dismissing the pain, because it was never that bad for them.

maybe its because love interest is soft?

or,

love interest doubles over, choking back a scream. living weapon, dumbfounded at the feeling of a functional, painless body. a weapon, honed and refined as their own—but painless. living weapon, dismissing the pain anyways, because it was never truly that bad. maybe love interest is overreacting, mocking them.

yeah. yeah, thats probably it.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅꜱ: ᴅɪᴠɪɴɪʏᴀᴇ

#✮`— ᴡᴀʟᴋ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴀᴡɴ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #living weapon whump #living weapon whumpee #living weapon #body swap

i have a soft spot for gentle whumpees. whumpees who cant survive on their own. whumpees who are young, naive, or just too hopeful. whumpees who belong in a kinder genre. in a sweeter, less grotesque world. whumpees who need to be taken care of. whumpees who look at the world through big, wondrous eyes, and never see the depths of depravity people are capable of. who are always willing to trust others—much to their own detriment. whumpees who are whumped through other people, and not directly themselves. the guilt of it all.

maybe this isnt technically a whumpee, and their caretaker is a whumpee themselves, but i love vulnerable whumpees.

i like to see the hope leave their eyes.

having their caretaker—especially a beloved one—be hurt because they were too useless, too naive. because they trusted too easily. because they didnt follow orders. because they believe in love, and kindness, and hope.

i like to make them watch as their beloved caretaker is hurt, injured, sick, or tortured.

when their caretaker screams into their teeth. where caretaker tries to reassure whumpee that its okay, that caretaker is fine, that whumpee has done nothing wrong. when caretaker smiles, teeth stained with blood, croaking out a little joke to make whumpee laugh—through the pain, terror, and adrenaline.

when whumpee realises all they are is a burden. when whumpee leaves. when caretaker tracks them down—because theyre no good at surviving solo, they let themselves be found, they werent careful enough with erasing their tracks. when caretakers give them a terrified dressing down. when caretakers beg them not to leave again. because what if somebody else had found whumpee? did whumpee expect caretaker to be happy? to be grateful? what a joke. caretaker isnt okay unless whumpee is.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: ᴜᴢᴍᴀᴄᴄʜɪᴀᴛᴏ

#✮`— ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴜʀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ .ᐟ #whump #whump community #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #soft whumpee #gentle whumpee #caretaker #emotional whump

truth serums are on my mind again.

maybe the serums are slow acting. maybe the effects start off small, easily staved off, and slowly get harder and harder to resist. maybe its a compulsion.

maybe whumpee has been rescued from captivity. the truth serum hasnt started acting yet—maybe whumper is a filthy liar after all. the bastard. whumpee almost wishes they were still in that cell, just to be able to spit in their face one more time.

its okay. theyre back with their family. found family, blood family, friends—it doesnt matter. theyre here with their loved ones again. whumpers torture becomes a memory.

and then the serum starts acting.

it starts small, as most things do. whumpee cant tell white lies anymore. its fine. they havent been able to hide things from their squad for a week. if they bite their tongue, smile, laugh it off—their squad believes them.

it escalates. they cant hide their true expressions anymore. what was once a happy, smiling whumpee, is now haunted and hollow. they tried hiding. they did. theyve been hiding for years. even around their squad, its hard to let go of the mask. the compulsion to take care of everyone, to not burden anyone.

their team is worried. whumpee is their closest friend. its not easy to see somebody they love so much suffer like this.

the next time whumpee sees whumper, they freeze up.

thats when their family realises just how much it cost them to keep fighting. fighting is hard. fighting is scary. whumpee is still that small, abandoned, terrified child, buried alive and buried deep. so, so deep. whumpee has to be protected. whumpee, once their strongest, most cheerful teammate, is now the weakest. the most scared. once larger than life, always with a kind word to spare—reduced to something so small, and so scared.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: ᴜᴢᴍᴀᴄᴄʜɪᴀᴛᴏ

#✮`— ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜʀʀɪᴄᴀɴᴇ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #whump #whump community #whumpblr #truth serum #magic whump #whump writing #whump prompt

magic whump is underrated. especially where truth serums are involved. think about it. whumpee cannot lie. no matter how much they want to. the truth will come out, whether they like it or not. maybe they got drugged by the enemy. maybe they got drugged by friendlies.

maybe theyre in captivity. maybe whumpee has information the opposing side wants. theyre beaten within an inch of their life. they spit blood in their torturers face. theyre denied medicine. theyre starved. theyre deprived of sleep and peace and comfort. and theyre still steadfast. they wont break. whumpee will not be the one who brings down this revolution.

they are given a truth serum.

they fight like hell, of course. they havent survived all of this, stayed steadfast and unbroken through all of this, to be brought low by a truth serum. of all the underhanded tricks—this is the lowest blow. there is no honour in it. but... whumpees captor has never cared about honour.

perhaps its administered through a needle. perhaps its given orally. perhaps whumpees captor chooses the option that provides the most lasting damage—both to the mind and the body.

and when its all said and done, whumpee cant help but confess. shaking with effort, the inside of their mouth bloody from chewing, biting, resisting—its all futile.

what a waste.

whumpee gives up things they never would have. dirty, cheating, honourless bastard that whumper is—they enjoy it. they enjoy watching whumpee suffer through the torment and guilt that comes with being an unwilling traitor.

after all, its not just information they wanted. they wanted to see whumpee break.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: ᴜᴢᴍᴀᴄᴄʜɪᴀᴛᴏ

#✮`— ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜʀʀɪᴄᴀɴᴇ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #truth serum #whumpblr #magic whump #whump community #whump #whump writing #whump prompt #soldier whumpee

i like to think about living weapons. mostly, living weapons by choice. in revolution. in superhero teams. anywhere, really. so long as they joined of their own volition. somebody has to protect the land, the realm, the world—it might as well be whumpee. whumpee can take it. whumpee has always been a punching bag. at least now its for the good of the world, instead of meaningless suffering.

the training, however, is harsh.

theyre soldiers. it makes sense. but... whumpee never anticipated it to hurt this much. perhaps whumpee is a child—or just naive. perhaps whumpee was wrong. maybe this isnt a life they want to live. perhaps they can still leave?

no. they pledged their life, their body, their heart and soul, to this task. to this army. to this revolution.

theyre on the floor. lying down, breathing heavily. their handler tells them to get up. they try. pain shoots up their hands. regret settles deep in their stomach, filling it like no rations ever did.

handler is dismissive, stoic. looks at them with something resembling pity. they have to be cold for this job—its not easy to watch children suffer through this training. they ask whumpee something. whumpee doesnt hear through the ringing in their ears.

handler crouches next to whumpees trembling body. repeats themselves.

"does it hurt?"

whumpees vision blurs, their eyes welling up. they nod.

handler sighs. "no, it doesnt."

what?

"it doesnt hurt," handler repeats, almost exasperatedly. "people feel pain. weapons do not. you shed your personhood the moment you put on our uniform."

regret wars with disbelief. regret wins. solidifies. its a cold stone in their stomach.

handler looks almost sad, for just a moment. they get up, brush the dust off their knees. they look down at whumpee. bored, dismissive, stoic.

"now, does it hurt?"

whumpee takes a moment, a sob caught in their throat. gets up on their hands and knees. their legs tremble, and threaten to give out. everything in their body screams.

pain shoots through their skull as they shake their head.

ᯓ★ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ > ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ♡ ꜱʜᴜᴋʀɪʏᴀ

#✮`— ᴡᴀʟᴋ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴀᴡɴ .ᐟ #ᯓ★ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ .ᐟ #living weapon whump #living weapon whumpee #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #whump #teen whumpee #<- thats the blorbo i rotate for this scenario but the world is your oyster do as you like #divider by diviniyae

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ᯓ★mushkil karde jeena mera