Howdy there! I've seen a lot of these so I'm guessing this is a thing I should do-?
Howdy! I'm Leafy, but Leaf is fine! Been lurking for a few months, but decided to make a new account to post my own whump! I use any pronouns but it/its (neopronouns would be great too!). I'm genderqueer, as well as aromantic and asexual. I'm an adult.
My favourite whump tropes (?) are restraints, I absolutely love team whump (especially leader whump, just love it), captivity/torture whump, stoic whumpees, and I'm also rather into the villain whumpee/hero whumper trope! I'm also a hurt/no comfort kind of person, but I don't mind some hurt/comfort every so often. Also, fantasy.
I think this is the part where I say my least favourite tropes, but what isn't there to love about whump?
(Well maybe Caretaker betrayal is too much for my cold, shriveled heart /lh)
I'm not a huge fan of explicit NSFW (although I have a surprisingly good stomach for gore), and would prefer to keep this blog SFW!
Don't be scared to say anything, because I love it when people say they like my writing and stuff <3
Homophobia, transphobia, aphobia, racism, ableism, etc will not be tolerated here. And I doubt you'll want to be here either, because I myself am part of many minority groups.
A personal project/story I might post about below the cut
Since I've joined tumblr, my former "everyone gets a complex motive and an unhealthy dollop of angst and sadness" self has been spoiled with hurt/comfort, hero/villain tropes, and also somehow made worse with my discovery of whump. So of course I decided to write a mostly self-indulgent story about a team of heroes who (obviously) get whumped.
Currently unnamed, this story is supposed to follow three new recruits, twins Zorica and Cairo, and Avi, at a hero agency. However, the rest of their team is just a little... wack.
(I say supposed to be because I accidentally got too caught up on developing the rest of their team and stuff and accidentally completely neglected the lead three :p)
Anyway, if you've come this far, I hope you have a wonderful day! <3
kicked in the back of the knee so they're forced to kneel - bonus points if then their head is forced up by the hair so they have to make eye contact as well :)
being pushed to the ground/kicked against the wall
an ordinarily strong whumpee being held by two henchmen so the Big Bad can kick/punch them without worrying about retaliation
steering a captive by their shoulders - bonus points if they aren't even handcuffed; the captor just knows they won't run - the steady weight of their hand is enough
a prisoner being ransomed back to their loved ones and being roughly shoved towards them - bonus points if they're gagged or tied up and the captor lazily goes "oh, will you get that for me? these are new gloves :)" so whumpee has to go through the humiliation of being seen at their lowest
when a character is grabbed by the front of their shirt to be pulled closer to someone making a threat
when a cooperative captive is still shoved around just to prove a point
arm twisted behind them to provide an incentive for giving information
tilting the chin to force eye contact, bonus points if this is with some kind of weapon!! knives, guns :) smth so delicious about the way they gulp and move away from it, as if that will actually do anything. it just backs them more into a corner, but oh, that's fun too
Leader has to fight with their possessed team and ends up heavily injuried by their loved one
You have good taste, anon. Please enjoy <3
"It's alright."
• Masterlist •
Warnings: Sci-fi elements, mind control, knife, self-sacrifice, open ending.
Leader didn't believe in fate. With millions of people making countless choices every day, how could anything be predetermined?
Yet, sometimes, things felt destined.
In interviews, worst-case scenarios, or intense debriefings, Leader was always asked the same question: Would they fight their own team if it ever came to that?
Their answer was always the same: a determined yes.
It was Leader's biggest lie, and they didn't know how to cover it up.
The question was asked so often that Leader became convinced it would happen eventually. So, when it finally did, they couldn't tell if it was fate or if they had jinxed themselves.
When Leader first pulled the blueprints for the mission, they had to take a leap of faith. They had to believe their team's minds were strong enough to withstand any... outer forces. There was no way to know who would stand and who would fall, but their team was the most stubborn one. If they couldn't pull off the mission, no one could.
"I don't like this," Right Hand muttered.
"Stop being a doomster. We'll finally get Whumper. They'll be immobilized in that machine," Youngest chirped.
"That's what worries me. If Whumper is accepting such risks, the machine must be strong. What if..."
"I will deal with the 'what ifs'," Leader cut in. "But only if you want the mission. This can either put us at number one on the list or..."
"Or put KIA next to our names," Right Hand grumbled.
"You have so little faith in us," Teammate hummed.
"We should vote on this. As usual, I won't join. Now, who wants to go?" Leader ended the discussion.
Youngest, Teammate, and Tech outnumbered Right Hand and Medic.
Leader nodded, hiding their unease behind a mask of determination. The vote was decided, and there was no turning back now.
"Get ready," Leader commanded, glancing at their watch. "We leave in one hour."
The hour passed in a blur. Leader wasn't a pessimistic person, but they struggled to stay positive. The team gathered when they were checking the plan for the fifth time, their minds set.
They were going into the nest.
As they approached the target location, an abandoned industrial complex, the atmosphere grew tense. Right Hand glanced at Leader, worry etched on their face. Leader hated to see them like that. With a frown present, their friend looked older, more tired.
"Leader, are you sure about this?" they asked quietly.
Leader took a deep breath." Do you ask what I believe or what I think?"
Right Hand didn't answer.
A light headache began making itself known as they stood before the door. Their only advantage was their unexpected arrival, but when they stepped in, Whumper would be aware. The nest was almost like an extension of Whumper, which worried Leader to no end. But as long as they eliminated the enemy systematically, they would be fine.
So they began fighting. Leader gave order to use firearms first. If one of them got out of control, close combat would give them some time. A bullet wouldn't. Luckily, they avoided any loss when they took out the guards. Youngest began complaining about a headache, but it was only that, complaints.
When they took down the second wave, Tech wanted a break. Leader sent them back to the vehicle, not taking any risks. They could feel their own thoughts weighting down but still coherent and intact.
They didn't think of any other possibilities. Fear was the last thing they needed.
They cleared the base slowly, reaching to the heart of the complex. Leader was tired but standing, just like the others. And if they were so close to the machine and only getting a moderate headache, victory was theirs.
"I was expecting you," Whumper's almost mechanical voice sent a shiver down to Leader's spine. "You never fail to amuse me, Leader. Did you truly believe my power was limited to my people?"
Leader marched forward, banging through the last doors. There was Whumper, sitting in a giant machine, defenceless.
"This ends here. Now," Leader muttered to themselves. They cautiously stepped closer, the rest of the team rushing in after them.
"Enjoy your gift."
The machine grew louder.
Leader turned back immediately, about to shout their team leave, but pain, sharp and sudden, took over their thoughts. They whimpered, their vision so bright and empty, their face warm and knees aching. They didn't know how long it took, but they were in their knees once they opened their eyes, their nose bleeding.
The team was on the floor.
Leader quickly scrambled back to their feet, rushing over the closest one— Medic. But before Leader could shake them awake, Medic's eyes opened, empty.
"No," Leader forced out. The team slowly got back to their feet, movements stiff and unnatural. Leader didn't want to believe that was real.
But Medic's punch to their jaw was very, very real. Leader stumbled, their face throbbing. They wiped the blood on their nose, directly rushing for Whumper. They couldn't afford being sentimental.
Leader returned Medic's punch, knocking them out. They caught Right Hand's arm coming from their blind side— Leader didnt knoe if they felt proud that their friend was ysing a move they taught or horrified that they were the target. They twisted that arm slightly, but they failed to make the knife drop since they couldn't risk breaking Right Hand's arm.
Youngest caught Leader's waist, Teammate jumping on them. Leader struggled to stay upright but managed to dodge the knife that whipped the air. They walked backwards, slamming the two hanging on them to the wall. Their own body weight was enough to knock the duo, but Right Hand charged on them.
If Leader pulled aside, Right Hand would kill Teammate.
So Leader let it come. They didn't look down, they couldn't. But they pushed Right Hand back, ignoring the blooded knife falling.
Leader ran to Whumper, pulling the knife from their belt and aimed Whumper's heart. They outran Right Hand somehow, and within a matter of seconds, the machine shut down, Whumper's tense body falling to the floor.
Leader staggered, pain flaring at their side. They gasped, their vision darkening for a moment.
It was over.
Right Hand catched Leader before they hit the floor— or after, Leader couldn't follow. They could only take a sharp breath and close their eyes against the growing pain, consuming their thoughts.
"Leader— oh my, Leader I-I," Right Hand stuttered, or Leader heard only a part of it.
Leader forced their eyes to part, relaxing after seeing those eyes with tears. "It's alright," Leader muttered, their blooded hand reaching to Right Hand's face. "You didn't do it."
Whose blood was it? Whumper's? Their?
No, that wasn't important. As long as it wasn't from one of their teammates.
"Don't, uh. Just..." Right Hand searched for something. They tucked a fabric in Leader's hand, guiding Leader to press it somewhere between Leader's ribs and stomach. "Keep the pressure, okay. I— I will wake up the team and get you home."
"Don't... don't like bring o-ordered around," Leaded chuckled, but it hurt. They had to bite their lip to stop a scream.
"I know," Right Hand forced a smile and propped them against the machine. "I know."
Leader let out a grunt, not wanting to worry Right Hand more than they were, but also failing to keep the pain in. They tried to focus, but breathing was getting harder and harder.
Right Hand turned their back hesitantly, going to get the others back to their feet, starting with Medic.
Leader managed a faint smile, maintaining pressure despite their fading strength. After making sure that Right Hand wasn't panicking, they allowed their eyes to close for a moment. The team was safe, Whumper was gone. Nothing else mattered.
Internet yearning is gonna be so much worse in the space age. Like, that cute trans girl you're crushing on? She doesn't just live on the other site of the country, she's off on Alpha Centauri b.
Though imagine you do get on a space ship and head her way. It's at least 4 years to get there, but you can keep talking on the way.
And the time between responses keeps getting shorter. Six years round trip. Four years. Two. One. Months. Weeks. Days. Hours. And then you land, and see her in the spaceport.
You first send some messages by accident when you’re super young. It’s not until eight years later you get her responses.
Messages start coming in. Letters to the stranger on earth.
She tells you about her days, her struggles, her joys. She treats you like a void she can yell into. She tells you of her highest highs and her lowest lows. What, like she’d get a response? You sent the initial messages on accident.
You’re twelve. Thirteen, by the time you work up the nerve to message her back.
You reciprocate. Send her letters. Tell her about your days and your struggles and your joys. Just like she did. You keep doing it. It turns into a diary of sorts. You read the message about her day, and write one about yours.
You’re 21 the first time she truly messages you back. It’s a response, not a letter, to the first message back you sent when you were 13.
You’d written a letter about how shitty middle school is, and that you knew it would get better but it just sucks.
She understands. She’s patient, and kind. She validates your struggles and offers gentle solutions, regardless that you’re too old to implement them. She tells you about her struggles being trans, and shares empathy.
Then another response comes in. And another. So you keep writing, and listening to her responses, and writing responses to her. A dialogue with an 8 year gap.
You’re 22 when she talks about never being able to see you in person. She waxes poetic, but you can tell there’s intense feeling undercutting the whole message. You write back, saying you feel the same way. It’s a tragedy just as much as it is physics.
Suddenly you’re 30. You’ve graduated college and have a job. You’d like to buy a house, but it feels so far away for even being possible. You’re still writing. You’re still getting responses.
You’re 32 when she suggests you come to Alpha Centauri B. She says it almost flippantly before changing the subject for another paragraph, but the three after are a carefully crafted essay on why you could. Why you should. Logistics and timing and emotions. Love from your decades-old pen pal.
It’s a week before you send another response. A week to decide you’re going.
Your parents died when you were young, you have no significant other, you have a generally-applicable career and you were itching for a change anyway. You put your name on the waitlist for the next ship.
The list is long, and it doesn’t move very fast. But it moves. Years pass as your name gets closer to the top. Your confidence, once so unwavering, starts to shake as the time gets closer. You have a house now. You’ve risen to a high position in your career. Yet, you still don’t have a significant other. Your closest friend is your intergalactic pen pal.
Years later, on the anniversary of the day you wrote the message, the message stating you’d give up everything and put your name on a list, you get a message back. It’s long. Longer than any message you have been sent before.
It’s a confession. She’s in love with you. She has been for a while. It’s also plan. She’s got it all figured out; she has a place on Alpha Centauri B and enough income to support the both of you for a while.
It takes you a while to finish reading the message. It’s laden with emotion and meaning. When you’re done, you check the waitlist. You are first on the list.
A month later, you board the ship. Your house is sold, job resigned, suitcase packed. You’ve just given up everything. You’re nervous. Scared. Terrified. What have you done?
Then you check your messages. She has been closer to you than anyone in your life ever has. She writes you daily, and has for years. You have as well. Suddenly, all you are is excited.
You keep writing on the journey. It’s another couple years, but you start getting more than one response a day. Just two, then three, then more and more. The distance they have to travel gets shorter as you approach. Soon you’re writing responses to messages that were sent one year ago, not eight. Then six months. Then a month. Weeks, days. Hours.
Finally, after years of shooting through space, your ship docks. Your messages are instant. The diary entries and screams to the void have become conversations. Chats, check ins. Everything you didn’t know about her before, you know now. Neither of you have secrets. You’ve never been closer.
Your ship, after years of being in motion, is still. You depart the ship, suitcase in hand. Then you see her. She’s waving at you.
You walk up to her. “Hi,” you say, smile creeping onto your face.
She’s grinning. “Hi. Good to see you.”
You laugh as she pulls you into an embrace. It’s the best hug you’ve ever gotten.
“The stone corrupts all those who wield it, it is fueled by their ambitions and dreams. So we need someone with no ambitions, no dreams, someone who doesn’t care about what the future holds for themselves. That’s why we found you.”
The first thought, in a moment like this, probably should not have been what came to your mind. Well, fuck you too, you thought, half incredulous and half apathetic. You leaned against the doorframe with one shoulder and eyed the group of three wizened people before you. Why was it always the elderly who came with big quests or brought important items that had to be hidden away?
Also, if you didn’t care about the future, didn’t that mean you didn’t care about the stone either? You might as well give it to someone else. Maybe someone better suited than you. There was this little girl across the street who had an acorn necklace and played in puddles and always sat very still until the every last stray cat felt safe enough to eat what she brought them. Maybe the stone should go to her, she at least gave a shit.
You debated arguing or refusing, but your disinterest won out in the end. “Sure,” you answered, holding out a hand for them to plop the stone into. You weren’t scared of it, especially since it looked utterly unremarkable. If you tossed it into a river, no one would be able to tell it apart from the other rocks.
The three wizened elders, apparently the smartest of their magic circle, exchanged grave looks and you waited until they were done with their silent communication and their leader stepped forward.
“We entrust you with the Stone of Possibility, never use it and always hide it,” they said, voice solemn and carrying the sort of undertone that spoke of great importance. You blinked slowly. “Give it to no one, no matter how noble their hearts, how pitiful their tale or how silver their tongue.” You couldn’t help but imagine a genderless person sticking out their tongue dripping with mercury.
"Cap- Captain…" Medic steadied their hands in front of them. "I need you to slow down, okay?"
Leader's brows creased, heart still frantically thumping as his fingers tightened around his sword, the soft dirt rubbing into his warm palm against the metal hilt.
"What are you doing? We got them on the run!" He stepped around his comrade, eyes fixed on the scattered enemies descending the rocky hill, their weathered helmets glinting under the setting sun.
"We'll take care of that, just.." Medic stumbled back in front of him, hand outstretched as they took a cautious step forward. "..Stop moving."
Leader gritted his teeth, frustration rising as a hand clasped his shoulder. "Why are you-"
"Cap, try to stay calm."
He paused as Medic motioned someone from behind, the clang of metal and cries of battle all but forgotten as another set of hands latched behind him, leaving a strange sensation to settle in the pit of his stomach.
"Easy," another familiar voice ushered from behind. "I got you."
The captain's knees faltered, a strong grip quick to catch his weight as his gaze fell to his torso. A crimson-stained spear protruded through him, bits of skin smeared around the metal shaft and fleshy folds hung from its jagged head.
"It's okay- Don't look at that," his teammate behind him started. "It's alright. Medic's gonna fix you right up, okay?"
The warmth pooling around the grass under him said otherwise.
Back eased against the dirt, the captain raised shaky fingers to the weapon, shallow breath hitching before two calloused hands caught his.
"Don't.. lie to me," Leader gritted out, eyes glued to the passing clouds above, their orange hues easier to look at than those around him.
"I'm not. So don't you fucking quit on me."
The grip clasped around his bloodied palm tightened as his teammate went on, repeating the same assurances neither of them could truly believe.
Dimly, Whumpee was aware that there was a chorus of "stay awake"s and "Whumpee if you close your eyes I'll raid your snack stash"s, but honestly... they were so, so tired.
Collecting all of these in one convenient place! If you have any requests, questions, comments, and especially concerns about what/how I’m writing these, please let me know!
Leader almost wished the roses had thorns, so that they could feel them digging into their skin. It'd keep them grounded, if nothing else.
The grave had been freshly dug, and the words lovingly inscribed.
Here lies Youngest.
Leader's heart panged, seeing how small the gap between the day of birth and day of death was.
Youngest, who loved to play jokes and tricks on the team -- all completely harmless. Well, except for the time they rearranged the kitchen cabinets from Medic's strict placement. Leader remembered watching Youngest dash out of the base, screaming for mercy, as Medic had chased after them with a broomstick. But besides that, the whoopie cushions and plastic spiders never led to any harm.
Leader forced out a laugh. "This... this is a good one, Youngest. Really good," they said to the grave. "You even got Medic good."
Their hands gripped the roses tighter, seeking some form of sensation.
"You... you put a lot of effort into this one, huh?" If their words were choked with sobs... well, nobody but Youngest was there to hear it. And nobody would believe Youngest if they said that stuck-up, laughs-once-in-a-blue-moon Leader cried. They'd just think it was another silly joke.
(God, how they wished this was another one.)
"Your-- your room will be there for you. Once you're done with this one. With a complimentary scolding from Caretaker. Like always."
They thought of the rest of their team, who'd long since retreated back to the base to continue their mourning. Caretaker had been utterly distraught, but still tried to be there for everyone. Leader hoped they were taking care of themself and allowing themself to grieve. They made a mental note to keep an eye on Caretaker.
Gently, Leader kneeled in front of the fresh plot and laid down the yellow roses. Youngest had been an incurable romantic; they knew that they'd appreciate the flowers, and the meaning even more.
"Just... don't take too long, okay?" Leader whispered.
Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they'd be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.
tagging: @brutal-nemesis @siren-of-agony @rainydaywhump @painsandconfusion @fallenwhumpee @crowzwhump and anyone else who wants to do this
Which badly summarized WIP would you read?
Jackie talks to a corpse (again)
God forces the last person alive to play Minecraft in real life
A deer faun likes his house wayyy too much. His house is normal. It's a normal h
Heather gets KIDNAPPED?
Heather finally gets a harem ❤️
The CIA give Jackie free healthcare! Against his will :(
Thank you for the tag! Because I don't have enough wips to make a poll, I wrote what's in my to-do list.
What should I write next?
No, you can't appreciate someone while telling them you used them (traitor pt.9)
Medics shouldn't be conscious while being treated
There should be regulations to prevent being led by a depressed captains
None of the above (please tell me in asks or tags)
Voting ended onFeb 7, 2024
Tagging: @snaillamp, @leafywritingwhump, @roblingoblin285, @bleedingintogold, @dresden-syndrome, and anyone else who wants to join <3
Ps: The 3rd option should be "there should be a regulation to prevent space missions being led by depressed captains." I realised that I murdered the language too late and I can't edit the option.
Rules: Tag 10 people you wanna get to know more and make a few cool questions!
I GOT TAGGED TWICE? 👀👀@generic-whumperz @monarchthefirst thank you so muchhhh <33
Relationship status: My personal life is very personal - consisting only of me and my two fluffy maine coon babies :D
Favorite color: Dark teal and dark red. Fr, I can't pass a dark, rich teal colored car without a smile - my favorite color in the wild! Yay!
Favorite food: Give me sushi and I'm gonna melt😩
Song stuck in my head: পাহাড়ী পথ চড়াই উতর / Pahari path charai utar - IPTA West Bengal
Last song listened to: Ziema - Pavisam Nezināma Laboratorija
Dream trip: A trip around Eastern & Southern Europe with the tickets to all my favorite bands' concerts in hand.
Last TV show/movie: I think I fell asleep to something about North Korea? Cold War? Doom of the Earth?
Spicy/sweet/savory?: Savory! Although I do love a good bit of spice, I just can't imagine my life without some savory treats to chew on!
Fun fact about yourself: I've had a weird obsession with PSAs (especially the scary ones) since age 5 :D
Tagging: @whumpthefifth @pumpkinwhump @its-my-whump @fallenwhumpee @neutralkolibri @kyanako5972 @stalecabbage @witchy-shortcake @stradaniye @deltav25 and everyone else who'd like! rules say tag 10 but yk I hate picking people, I wanna y'all whumpers to participate!
Favourite food: Too many foods to choose... uhh... iskender.
Song stuck in my head: A song that will reveal until my roots, sorry.
Last song listened to: Elfida - Haluk Levent
Dream trip: A train trip. Doesn't matter where it goes as long as the stops are long enough for me to see a museum or two and read book on a bank with coffee.
Last TV show/movie: The last show is uuuh... I don't really watch TV, but I think I was rewatching The Clone Wars in the middle of the year— the last year, lol. And the movie is one of the Rush Hour movies (again). I love comedy-action movies. I love fight scenes more if they are scripted well.
Spicy/sweet/savory?: Sweet. My heart pumps dark chocolate to my veins.
Fun fact about yourself: I can solve rubik's cubes (3x3, 4x4, 5x5, 7x7, 3x3 mirror, or ghost.) while reading a book. And I smell books before buying it.
Tagging: @leafywritingwhump , @porschethemermaid , @roblingoblin285 , @friendlesscat , @snaillamp and anyone else who wishes to do.
Song stuck in my head: I currently have "Your Reality" from DDLC playing in my head. I have not listened to this song since 2021, barring the time it came up in a guess the song game I played.
Last song listened to: Innocence by Madeon
Dream trip: ummm well there's big trees in Vancouver, Canada
Last TV show/movie: I could not tell you if you held me at gunpoint (<- doesn't consume a lot of content)
Spicy/sweet/savoury: please don't make me choose :((
Fun fact: I am. 85% sure my whump awakening was not Mortal Kombat or Bridge to Terabithia as I thought it was. It may have been Chicka Chicka, Boom Boom.
