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@hurtandcomfy
Hello, I'm roo. I'm part of a DID system. This is my whump collection.
Main: @scriptaroos - where I ramble and write ASMR scripts. I haven't done that recently though due to not fronting much.
The system's OC blog. it would mean the world to me if you asked questions about our OCs, whump or not. Go through the tags to find stuff about specific OCs.
And please tell me about your OCs, I love to learn about people's characters!
Link to template
"Oh we've gotten along quite alright, no [Whumpee]?" The spell that held them aloft barely let them twitch, and [Caretaker] could see the strain it took them to try and break free. "I've peeked into their brain—is a mess, really. I believed getting physical would be necessary, nothing like torture to bring unwanted images to their mind, but it wasn't even necessary."
[Whumpee]'s trashing became frantic. They weren't close to breaking the ethereal bonds, but that didn't matter. It was raw, untamed, fear. It was exactly what [Whumper] wanted.
"Ah, I see." [Whumper] circled them, "we are quite feisty, aren't we?"
"You made your point, [Whumper], what do you want?" [Leader] tried diverting his attention. It didn't work.
"Well, then, if you are in a negotiating mood. I can't let the merchandize hurt themselves, can I?" [Whumper] smiled. Too late, [Leader] realized his mistake. Too late, [Caretaker] understood what was behind [Whumpee]'s pleading. Desperate eyes. It was shame.
"Were you aware they wish for death?"
And that was it. Like a punch to the gut, [Whumpee] stopped struggling. Eyes closing in defeat. [Caretaker] tried—and failed—to hide his reaction, [Leader] tensed. [Teammate] cursed under his breath. He knew [Whumpee] had been struggling, it was no secret. They joked about it, were vocal about their meds, they had even asked for help with cleaning now and then so why? Why would they not say anything? Why would they shut their own team out like that? Their own friends—
[Whumper] smiled, lifting their chin in a mockery of affection. "Ah. I thought so. I would simply be doing them a favor, you see. If it wasn't I needed them alive to talk to you, I would have happily finished it. But then again, if it wasn't for them, I would have never gotten the chance to talk to you like this. So I must thank them, really."
[Whumpee] flinched, visible to [Caretaker] even through the spell. The bastard was turning guilt into a weapon and torturing [Whumpee] in front of everyone to see. [Leader] was the first to recover.
"Name your conditions"
[Whumpee] twitched again, trying to struggle. To signal her to no. To stop. [Whumper] tsked and with a snap of their fingers the bonds tightened to an uncomfortable stillness that forbid any movement. Tears streamed down their face and their desperation was so palpable [Caretaker] was almost glad they couldn't move, or else they would hurt themselves.
"Let us talk, then."
.....
When the spell dropped, [Whumpee] dropped unceremoniously, like a puppet with their strings cut. [Teammate] was the first to reach them, trying to keep them from injuring themselves further as [Whumpee] clutched at his shirt with desperate, frantic eyes.
"I should be dead—I should have died when he grabbed me. I should be—[Leader] wouldn't be—" they tried to force themselves past [Teammate] to go towards where [Whumper] had disappeared with [Leader].
"[Whumpee]—fuck. Stay down—please. Is alright, [Leader] will be alright. We need to check you over —"
"You should kill me—I shouldn't be alive, I can still fix it—Don't you see? I can still let [Whumper] kill me. I can—"
"[Caretaker]!" He shouted back, manhandling a now hyperventilating [Whumpee] to stay down. [Teammate] wasn't gentle —he couldn't afford to be gentle. "Don't. Don't you dare to say it. He wanted to get into your head, don't you see? This isn't you—"
"[Teammate] let me see them." [Caretaker]'s voice cut through the struggling. He had been the last to see [Leader] and managed to slip a tracker on her.
"They are not in control of themselves—"
"That's what I feared. Hold them down, towards me, please." [Caretaker] put two hands on their frantic friend, whose cries were breaking his heart, and started to weave a spell.
"Ngh—No—Please," [Whumpee] sobbed, their trashing slowing down. [Caretaker] exchanged a look with [Teamate], his red rimmed eyes mirroring his own fears. Finally, [Whumpee]'s eyes rolled back and they slumped forward, and with utmost care, [Teammate] lowered them down. Stroking their forehead for a moment before sniffing his own tears away.
"How did we—How did we let it get this bad?"
[Caretaker] had one thing clear in his mind, as they both caught their breath.
He was going to kill [Whumper].
thinking about a whumpee who has been raped and then subsequently develops some sort of infection (sti, uti, bv, etc) and so that, even after the traumatic event is over, they physically Can’t put it behind them because the pain/discomfort is Constant. and then when it gets so bad they have to reach out to someone for help/someone notices that whumpee’s not okay, there’s the burning shame of it all. maybe caretaker doesn’t know that they were raped and gives them a bit of a hard time (“it happens to the best of us, whumpee”), or maybe they do and are able to understand how it got to be so bad, how it was so hard for whumpee to reach out for help. idk
it's late at night. whumpee came to them clearly mortified, barely able to get the words out. they stumbled through explaining what's going on, and when caretaker tried to lighten the mood, things just got so much worse. it should have worked... whumpee would have laughed at that, would have been relieved that caretaker was being cool about it, but not this time. this time it made their whole body convulse and the shame increase until it nearly took them to the floor.
caretaker wanted to crack a joke, poke a little fun, and then they'd make a plan together. caretaker would take whumpee somewhere they could get checked out, get treated. would help them get past this bump in the road, maybe work through why it took them so long to say something, why they let it get this bad before they asked for help or told anyone.
but that's not... that's not what's happened. it should have worked. they know whumpee, it should have worked. it didn't.
"hey," caretaker says. they sit up straighter, squint at whumpee. they're tired, it's the middle of the night, but they can tell something is going on here. something's wrong. more than just... something is wrong. this is about more than an infection that whumpee is ashamed to talk about, this is... there has been something wrong lately. they've noticed. and now this, and- "whumpee, did... did something happen?"
whumpee's body shudders again. their shoulders hunch and they crumple, their face pressing into their hands. "yeah," they admit, through a heaving breath, almost a sob. "yeah, i- i was-"
they can't get it out. but they don't have to. caretaker knows. they know.
whumpee who has been assaulted previously is hooking up with a friend. friend doesn't know about any of their trauma, and it doesn't look like they're going to find out because things are going well. whumpee isn't dissociating or being reminded of whumper, it all feels good.
until they finish. they're lying next to each other in bed, cuddling perhaps, sticky and sweaty, and whumpee is suddenly hit with all the reminders of whumper. without the actual sex to distract them, they just feel the aftermath, and they have to keep reminding themself that it's their friend lying next to them and they haven't been hurt and they agreed to this, all while not letting friend see that they're spiralling because they don't want to make friend feel guilty. (or, worse, whumpee feels like they've just assaulted friend in some way by not telling them they're dirty before they started all of this)
friend can tell something is wrong. the sex had been great, and they’d both seemed to be enjoying things, and now they’re laying together, having some quiet, soft time together in the afterglow of good sex. it’s nice. until it isn’t. until friend notices that whumpee is growing tense and strange. they aren’t looking at friend anymore - looking deliberately at the wall or ceiling. they’re starting to shake, actually, and their breathing is unsteady.
“hey,” friend says softly, and whumpee flinches. worry grows in their chest. was what they just did not as good as they thought? did friend miss something? did whumpee not actually want- had they wanted to stop and friend just didn’t notice- “hey, whats wrong? are you okay? did i-“
“no!” whumpee’s response is sudden and urgent. they’re turned towards friend again, gripping their arm, though their body language is ashamed and frightened. “no, it’s… you didn’t do anything. i promise. i swear, you didn’t- it’s not you. it was good, it was really good, i liked it, i just- it’s just that, that i…” their voice fails, their eyes wide and bright, flicking away from friend again as they swallow hard. their breathing is shallow and fragile.
“it’s okay.” friend tries to keep their voice soft and their hand gentle where it strokes slowly over whumpee’s bare back. “can you tell me what’s going on? what’s happening with you now? because it’s… you don’t seem okay.”
“i…” another faint, shuddering inhale and exhale. whumpee curls closer to friend, even as their body cringes harder in on itself. thats the only thing keeping friend from pulling away and giving them space. whumpee doesn’t seem to want it - the opposite in fact. “i- i should have told you before. fuck, i’m so sorry. it was wrong not to tell you before you- before we- i’m sorry.”
fear is growing in friend’s chest. “you don’t- what did you not tell me, whumpee?” there are things that friend can think of that they WOULD have wanted to know before having sex. if whumpee was in a relationship, some kind of relevant health information, something they should know in order to not hurt whumpee. but this doesn’t seem like that. whumpee WOULD have told them about those things. the remaining possibilities are… they’re not good. “it’s okay. whatever it is, you can tell me. you can tell me anything.”
CW: magic whump, curse whump, magic user whumpee, depressing thoughts, suicidal ideation
I love magic whump in general but one of my favorite scenarios with it is a magic user whumpee who curses themselves. They have self-worth issues, and they have awful thoughts about themselves. But as a powerful magic user, even their thoughts can be dangerous if they keep repeating them over and over. And they prove to be when whumpee accidentally curses themselves with death, no matter how much they had tried to avoid these thoughts.
I especially like this when whumpee is someone who would never curse anyone else, they use their magic only to protect and heal others, while all of their bad thoughts are directed at themselves. Also if whumpee is a curse-breaking expert and they constantly help cursed people. But now what are they going to do?
Mini Whump Prompt 207
A whumpee that usually boasts about his curse, because of the power it gives them. Only for whumpee to finally have a vulnerable moment with caretaker, revealing the dark truth of how the curse affects their health/lifespan.
Love all the things that can cause somebody to shake. Like, almost anything can. Dehydration, overexertion, stress, fear, sleep deprivation, nausea, medication, pain, etc. etc. etc… “the human body just produces mucus for anything,” sure, but the human body also seems to love shaking like a leaf for anything. Sometimes for literally nothing. And unlike mucus it can’t even pretend to be helpful LOL
Cookie Run whump
Bite their legs off. Now they can't run!
a character who truly, legitimately goes “but why does that matter?” about their feelings when someone who cares about them asks. and the sudden falling of everyone around them’s faces as they realize that this person doesn’t recognize themself as someone who needs or should be taken care of. i want Everyone to hurt. surprise at the idea, worry for them, horror at not having noticed. do you see this person who doesn’t think of themselves as a person?
ever since i learned about ghost buildings i haven't been able to stop thinking about them
this is body horror
Whumpee that flinches at their own name
When a moot from your whump blog is checking out your main blog:
When a moot from your main blog is checking out your whump blog:
You guys are always like "being crushed by 10,000 tons of rock probably feels good as hell" or "being torn to pieces by hunting dogs would low key fix me" and I feel like those things would actually be unpleasant.
How about "Drinking an ice cold strawberry milkshake probably feels good as hell". Do you guys like that one.
Guy who never feels like his problems are “bad enough” to be taken seriously: what if I hurt the character so horrifically that everyone around them could not possibly deny the severity of their pain even if the character themself tries to downplay it.
a dynamic I just love in recovery is when there’s a sense of sort of mutual awe between Whumpee and Caretaker.
Whumpee can’t believe they are in a place where they are receiving love and care again, without having to “earn” it, without any strings. It feels almost surreal.
Whereas Caretaker is completely floored by the fact that they’re even able to do this for Whumpee, that they have them back, maybe bruised and broken in some ways but somehow, impossibly, alive. It feels miraculous.
"I'm home!...[Whumpee]?"
When [Caretaker] came back from work, [Whumpee] was sprawled on the floor, arm draped over her eyes.
"Wanted to get up and do...things. But then I just." She shrugged, without looking at them. "Dunno. Bad brain day. Not terrible. Just rotting. Floor helps."
"Okay...that's...good actually? Floor helps, that's something. Can I...do anything?"
[Whumpee] thought for a moment. Then asked.
"Yeah can you sit on me? Not like—that. But full weight on me."
[Caretaker] blinked, twice. It was not the weirdest thing someone had asked of them, but it still felt like something so domestic, so...casual. It made [Caretaker] smile. "Weighted blanket not enough, huh?"
[Whumpee] made a non committal sound without opening her eyes.
"Alright, let me grab you a blanket because it is getting cold—and then a big squeeze coming up."
