hello!! name’s mello, local timeloop, sci-fi setting and non-human fanatic, and i go by they/them pronouns! been in this community for a fair while actually, just realised that it’s a little disorganized to have both fandom and whump posts together sdfhkshfdkjs
i’ve done content mostly for ocs here (both whump and not), though i want to maybe make some prompts as well as some webweaves? who knows whatever goes! local descriptive writer, trying to figure out dialogue more this year^^
i also want to interact with more people!! in my other blog i mostly just stuck with tags (very shy i fear) but i love yapping in reblogs heh
oh and i draw on occasion 💥
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misc. links!
toyhouse for ocs!!! (you can find my oc masterlist here, all up for asks !) (more of my writing is also here because i always forget to upload them on tumblr)
my other blog: @melodxi
my stuff tag: #mellowwhumps
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what do i like? i made a tierlist quite recently!! username may be a little misleading i do like the not so mellow stuff too sometimes
might be inaccuracies here my interests spontaneously change
⭐️ tiny side note: you may sometimes find minor whump (mostly emotional) here !! i love dysfunctional platonic/found family dynamics in whump — although i have a fair share of older characters too
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and that’s all! i absolutely love whump and all its little sidetropes; feel free to send asks or really just talk about anything !!!
MASTERLIST BELOW THE CUT:
June of Doom
Whumperless Whump Event (2024)
Whumperless Whump Event (2025)
scuffed oc introductions (to be reworked and added onto !!)
asks: dynamics with haley
asks: theoretical tattoos
asks: silly hair lore post
asks: how are my whumpers addressed
non-whump writing: ida & yuuto au
cicadas’ chime - full oc masterpost
caretaker prompts i like (not ocs but i’ll put it here anyway)
non-whump writing: haley and verrill, witch/fantasy AU, partial character study
october updates
non-whump writing: some other life ft. loraven ocs
one two three four five — strike 3, timeloop whump (likely won't be finished)
//cw execution attempt that half-unintentionally looks like a suicide attempt
hi guys. wrote an oc poem for my silly dnd pc (ethiu) and am very tempted to send this to everyone but also i must resist because Spoilers. so have it here instead:
ROBOTS WITH FEVERS BECAUSE THEIR SYSTEMS ARE EXPENDING SO MUCH ENERGY FIGHTING A VIRUS
i used to write for detroit become human so consider:
overheating because of blocked vent fans (asthma analogous)
malware causing certain systems to malfunction or overheat
shivering because a virus is tricking their system into thinking conditions are freezing, thus necessitating the need to agitate artificial blood to avoid coagulation
robot companion cranking their systems up in a cold environment to cause intentional overheating/heat output to keep their human companion warm
damage to components that cause short-term memory storage to malfunction or long-term memory deletion
involuntary shutdown to prevent overheating from either hot environment or overheating internally from malware/broken parts (akin to fainting)
warning messages overwhelming the robot's visual field right before they go into a forced shutdown, difficulty focusing and communicating because of the distraction
"blood" working kind of like a spider in that pressure is needed to maintain limb rigidity and function, so when too much "blood" loss occurs, they get weak or can't move
okay sorry, i used to really enjoy thinking through what robot whump might look like and you reactivated it like a sleeper agent lmao
- dead pixels (they spread sometimes, even!) on a robot whumpee's display causing blind spots. bonus points if aforementioned dead pixels decide to block their hud as well
- crack that seems minor, but actually makes the tech way more fragile
- unfortunate accident breaking team leader's device and causing it to malfunction, resulting in abrupt loss of communication or inability to continue with work
- communication issues in general between all parties, actually. especially if it's the difference between a common person and someone actually skilled with tech, which then leads to conflict
- aforementioned "accident" was actually done on purpose to sabotage/some other reason
- the stress that comes with anything breaking, honestly
- attempting to fix the technical problem and making it worse
- repair technicians charging out of a person's budget, resulting in them having to either scrounge up money somehow/make sacrifices for it
- realising that the company's warranty actually doesn't cover what you thought it would cover
yinai doesn't for campaign 1! (i hope. would be funny if the dm was still trolling me though)
kita (once again, not my character and i have terrible memory myself) however did have amnesia though :3
long story short: so steinhardt, the extra d&d system, has something called indefinite madness, and one of the rolls is quite literally assuming you are of a different race. kita, who originally thought they were a manikin (doll-like race), realises that actually there are no manikins in the world because all of them perished.
full summary here:
yeah. so the story you just read and reblogged (cardinal farewells) is a what-if scene that takes place directly after this reveal and before the library we later enter because i was very normal about it actually
OH WAIT EDIT i get why you'd think yinai has amnesia now there was a whole segment before this where dm was trolling us and kept giving random players bouts of amnesia. because yinai is inherently a Very Paranoid Being that's why it was brought up but no they're fine. i think. and there's still that weird gap in time where yinai magically gains a bag of cannonballs that still has yet to be explained
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oh and partially irrelevant kita has full amnesia in campaign 2 which makes them unable to remember what happened in campaign 1. yinai remembers way more because 1) they used to be a god and 2) Things Happened probably but they are unfortunately also very slowly naturally forgetting what happened in my headcanons. thumbs up emoji
how do you feel about detective whump? it reminds me of the song hand me my shovel i’m going in
yessss
Not something I've written myself (Kaius is/was a private investigator but I haven't expanded on that yet) but the concept is soooo fun
- guy driving themselves to exhaustion trying to find answers
- guy finding something they shouldn't and being hunted down or caught by the bad guys
- guy who gets wrapped up in a conspiracy while investigating something completely different, and their newfound enemies won't believe them when they say they don't know
- guy living off gas station coffee, a pack of ramen, and two hours of sleep but they have to stay sharp if they wanna stay alive
(wiping a tear) i never thought this day would come. i never thought these two dense, impossible boys would ever actually communicate. what a grand day indeed!
in all seriousness, i hope you enjoy! i put a lot of work into this fic, as well some wonderful mutuals that beta read for me. this is long overdue and though not too much will actually change, i feel like the slight dynamic shifts will be so fun to write...
enough yapping! here you go!
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
“Simon…”
Simon sighs, exasperated. “Yes?”
“Hi.”
“Hi, Archie, for the tenth time.”
Archie lets out a snort and nearly topples off the couch, his head precariously hanging off the edge of the armrest.
“Woah!” Simon catches him, his hand supporting the back of Archie’s head, tangling in his curls. “Stop that.”
“You’re upside down.”
“No, Archie, you’re upside down. You’re about to fall. Come on, get up so I can look under your suit.”
“Jeez, ‘least take me to dinner first…” He grumbles, sitting up and leaning against the arm rest.
“The wound,” Simon says through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, sure whatever you say,” He mutters, folding his hands behind his head.
With gloved hands, Simon carefully unzips the Vigil suit to just below Archie’s belly button and opens the fabric as slowly as possible. Archie doesn’t even seem to register the pain as the dried blood unsticks from his wound to reveal the jagged tear in the flesh. Simon grimaces.
“Are you almost done? I’m bored.”
“Shh. You’re still bleeding. And I also need to figure out what the hell they gave you.”
“Gave me? They didn’ give me nothin’. I’m fine!“
“Yeah? The way you’ve been talking the last thirty minutes suggests otherwise.”
“Yes, drugs, Archie. I think the knife was laced with something. Can you feel me touching the wound?” He punctuates the question by lightly grazing the edge with a knuckle.
“Wound, shmound. I don’ feel it, Simon. I’m like, evolved again. First super strength ‘n then.. then… super wound-not-feeling,” He slurs, reaching down to poke at the wound himself to prove his point.
“Ah, Jesus, Archie, don’t do that!” Simon shouts, batting his hand away.
Archie simply huffs and crosses his arms as he watches Simon finish methodically cleaning the wound. When he switches to suturing, he considers it a small mercy that Archie still doesn’t seem to be bothered by the pain.
Another ten minutes pass in blissful silence before Archie begins to shift, tilting his head back to rest against the armrest of the couch and then leaning forward once again.
Suddenly, he sits up with a dopey smile and grabs Simon by the wrist. The forceps and needle clatter out of his hand with a gasp.
“Archie—“
“H’ve I ever told you… that you’re so pretty?”
Simon’s face heats up instantaneously.
“Thank you, Archie. Now, let go of my arm. I need that.”
“No, listen. You’re so… so nice and so handsome ‘n pretty. I jus’ like your face. I think—”
“Archie, stop talking.” Simon’s heart rabbits in his chest. This is the drugs talking. Surely. There’s no other explanation.
Sure, the two have been close, but they’re just friends. Yeah, maybe Archie has been Simon’s closest friend and the only person that really knows him, but it has always been platonic. Obviously. Nothing more has ever been established. Archie is just high. That’s it.
“Don’t wanna. You’re all red. ‘S cute.” Archie giggles before continuing. “Always wanna… be near you. I didn’t wanna ruin this, but… y’know…”
Simon can’t move. He swallows reflexively.
What’s one to do in this situation?
It’s not like the feelings aren’t mutual. Simon has never truly considered his feelings for Archie romantic. He wants to be with him always. Yeah, he daydreams about his face and his smile and his eyes but he thought that’s just what best friends do.
… Is he in love with him?
Holy shit.
Simon has been in love with Archie for nearly a fucking year and he’s just finding out about it now?!
He feels lightheaded. This revelation has come at possibly the worst time ever. Archie is high. There is no shot he actually means any of this. All it's doing is driving Simon just a little bit closer to losing his mind. He swallows again and fixes his face into something calmer.
“Archie, just let me finish suturing, and then, you go to sleep, okay—?“
“I love you Simon. I just… I love you so much ‘n I wanna be with you.”
Simon is sure he’s going to pass out here and now.
This can’t be happening. God, or whoever else may be up there, is playing some sick joke on him. He’s sure of it.
“Archie—“
“Do you love me too?” He whispers, yanking Simon a little closer by the shirt.
Simon sucks in a breath, placing his hand over Archie’s and gently removing it. He’s glad Archie is too out of it to realize just how much his own hands are trembling.
“Yes. I do, but we can’t talk about this now. You’re not in your right mind.”
Archie pouts, but he doesn’t push it further. He leans back and huffs a breath and finds himself watching Simon once again.
Simon’s hands are shaking even as he finishes the last few sutures. Once he ties it off, he looks back up at Archie and finds him fast asleep.
A small breath of relief escapes his lips.
“Jeez, Archie,” He whispers. “That’s one way to end the night.”
He grabs a throw blanket from the basket beside his couch and drapes it over Archie, and his hand lingers over his shoulder for a fleeting moment.
He goes to bed.
••••••••••
Simon wakes up not feeling rested in the slightest. He’s almost certain he hasn't slept at all.
How can he? He is— probably— going to wake up and have Archie not remember anything and he’ll just have to live with it. The thought makes him feel sick.
He drags himself to the kitchen and nearly has a heart attack at Archie standing in the kitchen, making eggs while clutching at his side.
He rushes over. “You should not be up.”
“Hey, you were still asleep and I was hungry,” Archie laughs softly.
“C’mon. Go sit down. I’ll finish this up.”
Archie relents and limps over to the table. He sips at his coffee and shifts a little bit.
There's some kind of electric tension hanging in the air. Simon feels it. He knows Archie feels it too. It’s stifling and the steady beat of his heart kicks up with every passing second.
Simon doesn’t say anything. He just takes the steaming cup of coffee that Archie has left out for him and starts stirring the eggs in the pan.
Fuck it, he has to ask.
“So, um, how much do you… remember from last night?”
Archie stills. His shoulders stiffen and he stares down into his coffee like he can disappear into it.
“I’m really sorry, Simon—“
“How much?”
“…All of it. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want— I didn’t mean to make it weird. If you want me to leave I get it, and I don’t expect you to feel the same or anything—“
Simon doesn’t realize he’s up and moving until he’s pulling Archie in by the collar and his lips are crashing against his.
Nothing has ever felt more right in his life.
All the years— all the late nights and early mornings, all the stitches and wound-washes and bandages, all the falling asleep together and waking up in each other's arms, all of it— culminates to this very moment. Simon’s heart could burst out of his chest.
Archie presses back, hands fluttering up to Simon’s face to rub his thumbs along his cheekbone. Simon absolutely melts.
After a few seconds, he finally pulls away and stares at Archie’s flushed face.
“Did you mean all of it?”
“Fuck, yes, Simon. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.”
Simon just sighs. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. He cups Archie’s face and gives him a genuine, sincere smile.
“I love you too. So much, Archie. Shit, man.”
They both huff a laugh and wrap up in each other's arms, breathing deep for a few moments. Simon’s hand reaches up to tangle in Archie’s curls and Archie’s snakes around Simon’s waist and pulls close.
It could have been hours that they stayed like that. Simon doesn’t know. He frankly doesn't care. He could have spent an eternity there with Archie.
He doesn’t know what's next. Everything has changed, but at the same time, nothing has at all. He doesn’t know and he can’t be bothered to untangle that right now.
It isn’t until he feels a soft tap on his back that he smells the sulfuric char in the air.
“Simon, the—”
“Shit! The eggs!”
He frantically pulls away and cranks the gas on the stove off, fanning the smoke with a dish towel. Archie stifles a giggle behind his hand as Simon flails around, trying to guide the smoke away from the smoke alarms.
Once it’s all situated, all that is left on the pan is a black, crumbly mess. Archie cocks an eyebrow up at Simon and shrugs.
“This gives us a good excuse to go on our first date, at least.”
“Oh shut up,” Simon muses, rolling his eyes. Still, he lets the burnt eggs slide into the trash and grabs his car keys from the table. “Well, where do you want to go?”
wwe yearnmaxxing but also d&d yearnmaxxing and both my characters just so happen to have whumpers as a particularly centric part of their stories...tragic loss
Welcome to the 2026 Whumperless Whump Event, where we celebrate all kinds of situational, accidental and environmental whump! If this is your first time, welcome in--if you've been here before, thanks for coming back!
FAQ and text version under the cut!
Frequently Asked Questions:
Q: Where can I find the prompts list?
A: @whumperless-whump-event on Tumblr.
Q: How are the prompts divided?
A: Each day has a "title" or a vague theme, followed by two tropes and one dialogue prompt.
Q: Can I use the title as a prompt?
A: Absolutely.
Q: Do I have to use all of the prompts?
A: Not at all.
Q: Can I use all the prompts?
A: Absolutely.
Q: If I'm writing a chronological story, can I swap days to fit the timeline?
A: Yes, just make sure you tag your days and prompts appropriately. If you're writing for day 6, but you post it on day 12, tag day 6, not day 12.
Q: Can I have early or late entries?
A: Yes. This is a very laid back event, and meant mainly to inspire lots of whumperless whump. It's not a strict writing challenge.
Q: Is there an Ao3 collection?
A: Yes! This year's collection is linked here. The parent collection also includes 2024 and 2025--make sure you select 2026.
Q: Can I write [insert anything here]?
A: Yes. However, this blog will not reblog certain topics (ex. nsfw or suicide), so please tag your works appropriately, so anyone can filter out anything they don't want to see.
Q: Can I use AI?
A: No.
Q: Can a whumper be included in the prompt fill?
A: The short answer is no. The long answer is that you cannot have the role of whumper in your prompt fill (aka: no whumper-on-whumpee); however, if the character you want to be a whumpee or a caretaker happens to be a whumper, then as long as they are not fulfilling the role of whumper, it's fine. Also, if there is a whumper, it must be totally impersonal and faceless. Here are some examples for clarification:
A character's drink is spiked at a party.
OKAY: The whumper who spiked the drink is never mentioned and is completely faceless, and the story is directly about whumpee recovering.
NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper who spiked the drink kidnaps the whumpee.
A character is left alone in a storm.
OKAY: The character is stranded or lost.
NOT WHUMPERLESS: Whumper tied them to a post and left them in the storm.
A character is mugged on the street.
OKAY: The whumper is a stranger, faceless, and the focus is on Whumpee.
NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper is a stalker and there to kidnap Whumpee.
All in all, if your goal is to fulfill the event, then try to avoid a whumper. If you're using the prompts elsewhere, then ignore this, but in the spirit of the event, no whumper roles please.
Q: How do I tag my posts?
A: Tag with #whumperless whump event, #wwevent 2025 and #wwevent day [x](Don't just tag wwe, that's wresting.) Make sure to tag the fill type (art, fic, music, etc) with #fic, #art, #et cetera. Then, tag triggers and content warnings. Please put these first in the tag order! It just makes it easier to reblog.
Q: How do I get reblogged?
A: Mention this blog in your post! It's the easiest way for me to find you. Otherwise, I won't reblog it. (This also means if you do not want your post reblogged to the event, just don't mention the blog, and it'll stay private.)
Q: I disagree with something/have an issue with a prompt/want to address a problem. How should I do it?
A: Send me an ask and we can fix it. I am more than willing to work through any problems--I am human, and not without fault.
I think that's about it. That's a lot, so if you've got any other questions that aren't on the list, feel free to shoot me an ask. I'm happy to help!
Plain Text:
Like a Baby Seal to Water: Fishtailing / Near drowning / "I thought I was going to die."
Somebody's Gotta Do It: Unexpected caretaker / Touch starvation / "You don't have to hide from me."
A Lull in the Chaos: Bedside vigil / Checking vitals / "Can you… sing? Until I fall asleep?"
How Are You So Oblivious: Unknowingly feverish / Falling asleep at work / "Can you drink some water for me?"
Wilderness Experts: Poisoned / Caught in a trap / "I don't know where we are."
Down The Wrong Pipe: Choking / Seizures / "Call an ambulance, tell 'em they're not breathing."
Wrong Place, Wrong Time: Panic attack / Overstimulated / "Get me out of here."
Are You Sure This Is Normal: Natural disasters / Scared of thunder / "We're safe in here, okay? I think."
Dropping Like Flies: Multiple whumpees / Caretaking while sick or injured / "I'll get some rest soon, I promise."
A Warm Welcome: Coming home from the hospital / Cuddle piles / "You scared me so badly…"
Bodily Betrayal: Stomach sick / Carried to bed / "…Yeah. I can call in sick for you."
You Make Me Lose My Breath: Wheezing / Altitude sickness / "You're not making sense."
Waking In A Cold Sweat: Midnight hospital visit / Allergic reaction / "I thought you were getting better."
The Final Straw: Grief / Mental breakdown / "You don't need to be okay right now."
Your character is forced to go on the next mission despite barely recovering from the last one.
This could be them being shipped off with a dangerously high fever; with fresh surgical stitches or a cast on their arm. Maybe they didn't even get the time to mentally decompress from the last mission before they're off seeing The Horrors again.
Royalverse prompt: INJURED FREY!!! They got hurt protecting Winter, and not the ignorable, self-manageable kind of hurt they're used to taking care of themself. Now it's up to the rest of the team to dress their wounds and keep them awake long enough to check for delirium. Maybe also whump Winter with a bit of guilt over what happened?
Okay, so, this one turned out to be a favorite of mine. I hope you enjoy:
--
"Arms up, knight," Cor hisses in their ear, and for once, Frey doesn't fight back.
They're on their knees, now, back against the tree, heaving breaths jostling the arrow in their side--they're so stupid, how could they be so dumb--but when Cor wrestles their chestplate off, all they manage is a weak whine of pain.
"Minnow, my bag--"
"What do you need?"
"Sedative. Third pouch from the left, vial next to the grey crystal."
"Here."
Frey tries to track the movement, but there's blood streaming over their eyebrow and into their vision and they can't wipe it away because of the agony in their side. Something hovers under their nose and they flinch backwards, making a noise of protest.
"Stop, it's okay," and that's Winter. Gloved hands against his cheek, wiping the blood from his cheek. He needs them. "There. There, it's fine. Take a deep breath. It'll help, I promise, okay?"
They listen, dragging a rough inhale into their lungs. It stings. Dizziness cascades through them.
Then fingers follow through his hair. "I got you. I need to hold you still, I'll be gentle."
More voices nearby, but Winter's behind them, voice in their ear, telling them it's okay. Part of them doesn't believe it--Winter is never totally truthful with those words--but all they know is pain, and the steady presence against their back. They choose to trust it.
Something moves. They flinch, a strained noise crawling up the back of their throat.
"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," Winter whispers, frantic and tight, "Cor's helping, you just need to stay still, it's going to be fine--"
And it rips, and a scream tears out of their throat--
"Minnow!"
"On it."
Frey feels more than blood filling his eyes now, but the gloved thumbs wipe it away, holding tighter. "Minnow has us silenced, it's okay. You can scream. It's okay."
They cough, try to pull from the fire in their side. Helpless noises fall from their lips. Humiliating, part of them whispers, but Winter said it was okay--
"It's out, Minnow--"
"Yeah, move."
Ice hands touch their bare skin. They want to run, to hide, they can't move.
"Relax," a smooth, spiralling voice croons. "I'm getting the poison out. You need to breathe, follow your prince."
"In, Frey, follow me."
Shuddery breaths. They follow. A finger taps against their collarbone, keeping the rhythm. Out, and some of the fire leaves with it.
"Almost done."
"Cor, you got the--"
"Sutures, yes. Minnow, can you trance them?"
"They won't appreciate that."
"I don't care," Winter rasps, breath hot on their ear. "They don't deserve more pain. Please, Min, I can't hold them down like this."
"...okay."
The hands touch their cheek now, and they falter in their breathing as something swims in their vision. "M-Minnow," they manage.
"That's me, soldier," Minnow whispers softly. "You're going to focus on me for a little while, okay?"
"'Kay," they murmur.
Arms around their shoulders, hugging tight. Careful fingers against the wound in their side. And bracing, cold palms against their cheeks.
