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@orangeduckweed
Whumpee leaning against the post they're tied to, back burning like fire.
"Please -- p-please don't hit me again."
Whumper lowers the whip, sighs like they're indulging Whumpee, and says, "Okay. I won't hit you again."
And they don't. But the feeling of the knife cutting into Whumpee's skin is somehow even worse, and when their agonized scream fills the room, Whumper is delighted.
"What? I kept my word. Didn't hit you."
Whump Prompt #1724
Your leader is living in a body that never has its needs met: never completely fed or hydrated; never rested enough, and never hugged in a way that is meaningful.
Who notices this first? Who acknowledges this first?
Whump Prompt #1725
“Hey, you’ve done everything you need to, alright? Now it’s our turn. We’ll take it from here, all you need to do is keep your eyes open. Nice and easy, right?”
Whump Prompt #1724
Your leader is living in a body that never has its needs met: never completely fed or hydrated; never rested enough, and never hugged in a way that is meaningful.
Who notices this first? Who acknowledges this first?
Powerful whumpee gets injured during a fight. The wound looks extremely painful but because of their nature, whumpee isn’t fazed by it in the slightest. Their pain tolerance is exceptionally high and they’re still more than able to fight back in their current state.
When they reunite with Caretaker after the battle, Whumpee’s the one that has to try and console them as Caretaker starts fretting and worrying deeply over Whumpee’s state. They don’t get it, this isn’t a bad injury to them, they’ll just bounce back like always. Why is Caretaker still so worried for them?
As much as they know they should (and are more than capable to do so) push Caretaker away and tell them to divert their attention to more pressing matters, this is the first time anyone’s tried to take care of them before. Whumpee’s more than touched by it. They’ll let Caretaker soothe their wounds for just a little longer.
I've been quiet for a while — here's a bunch of random ideas I've had bouncing around in my head.
Enjoy...
INJURY / FAILURE / COLLAPSE
-> Character’s knees give out mid-sentence → the world goes grey then black → they hit the floor hard, breath knocked out, eyes wide but unseeing.
-> A cut they’d been ignoring opens wider during a struggle; blood slicks their fingers, their grip weakening.
-> They choke on their own breath trying to speak — panic flashing, eyes wide and teary, body bracing for war.
-> They run until their lungs burn like acid, staggering before dropping to the ground.
-> A blow to their core folds them clean in half; they drop to their knees, gagging.
CAPTURE / RESTRAINT
-> Hands zip-tied behind them so tight their fingers go numb; plastic bites deeper every time they twitch.
-> Tape ripped across their mouth so violently it tears skin.
-> A boot presses between their shoulder blades while their wrists are wrenched behind them; they spit curses into the ground.
->They wake with their arms pinned above their head, wrists cuffed to metal — a drip bag hanging beside them, half-empty.
-> A hand clamps over their mouth mid-breath, dragging them backward into darkness.
PSYCHOLOGICAL BREAK / MANIPULATION
-> Someone whispers their full name in the dark — the tone wrong, too familiar, too calm.
-> A captor holds their chin and forces their gaze upward: “Look at me when you break.”
-> Sleep deprivation fractures their perception; every shadow moves in a hostile way; every sound makes them flinch.
-> They’re forced to watch surveillance footage of their own suffering, frame by frame.
->They’re asked a question they can’t answer, and the silence becomes a punishment.
SEDITION / MEDICAL WHUMP
-> Sedatives hit hard and strong — vision strobing, body refusing to respond while their mind stays awake.
-> Someone checks their pulse and the character flinches like they’re being struck, whispering, “Don’t.”
-> IV needle is jammed in without care; blood beads and slides down their arm.
-> They cough up blood after being revived; hands shaking, body heaving, terrified they won’t stop.
-> Their cast hides something sharp — and someone finds it.
BEATDOWN / FORCE
->Someone grabs a fistful of their shirt, slams them into a wall so hard their teeth crack together.
-> A knee drives into their ribs until something cracks; they can’t breathe, can’t talk, just stay still—dazed by pain.
-> They’re dragged by the ankles across a concrete floor.
-> Their head is forced underwater; bubbles erupt, fighting hard, then going still.
-> A punch snaps their head sideways — and they smile through blood.
AFTERMATH / POST-TRAUMA
-> They curl up in the corner, arms over their head, shaking so violently they can’t form words.
-> They wake up screaming — throat raw, body drenched in cold sweat.
-> They refuse to be touched, even by someone safe — every muscle locked like stone.
-> They stare at their bandaged wrists, cuts and bruises, not remembering how the wounds got there.
-> They apologize for things they didn’t do, voice trembling.
INTERPERSONAL / FOUND FAMILY ANGST
-> Someone gently cups their face and whispers, “Stay with me. Hey. Eyes on me.”
-> A friend tries to lift them and the character gasps in pain — a desperate broken sound escapes them.
-> They collapse into someone’s arms mid-argument, and everything goes silent.
-> Someone brushes hair off their forehead, horrified by how injured/feverish they are.
->“Who did this to you?” said quietly, deadly calm.
PUBLIC
-> A crowd records as the character is restrained, attacked or drugged — flashes of phone screens reflecting in their eyes.
-> They’re shoved into the back of a van while protestors scream, too busy with their own adgendas to notice.
-> Someone yells for help but nobody moves.
-> Their knees buckle in the middle of a street; people just walk around them.
-> Sirens drown out their voice as they try to ask for help.
DARK, TWISTED MOMENTS
-> They’re forced to kneel on concrete until their legs go numb and their back trembles.
-> Their captor wipes blood from their mouth with their thumb, almost tenderly.
-> A gun is pressed gently against their jaw — while whumper leans in close, taking in the fear and discomfort in an almost affectionate way.
-> They’re told, “It’s okay. Cry. I like it when you cry.”
SLOW BURN
They’re too exhausted to fight when someone tilts their chin up.
Every step is a stumble; someone hooks an arm around their waist to keep them upright.
-> A trembling inhale gives away how much pain they’re hiding.
-> They whisper, “I’m fine,” right before fainting.
-> Their voice cracks mid-sentence, they try to hide it.
Sprawled on the ground like a ragdoll, a shadow moves over him.
He’s dazed, breath stuttering. His fingers twitch like he’s trying to push himself up — but his arms don't work. They shake under his weight and collapse again.
Someone exhales above him.
Cold and annoyed...
Like he’s an inconvenience for still being alive.
“Didn’t tell you to get up.”
He barely turns his head before the next hit slams into him.
A boot — full force — drives into his ribs with a dull, sickening thud that radiates through the room. His body folds around the impact, a gutted sound breaking out of him.
He coughs once, sharply, fresh blood paints the floor.
He tries to curl inward — instinctively — trying to protect what's left of him, but the boot comes down again, this time into his shoulder, flattening him back out, pinning him down flat.
He gasps.
“Look at me,” the voice growls.
He tries.
His vision blurs.
Half of what he sees is floor...
The other half is darkness seeping in from the edges.
Another hit — a knee, this time — drops into his back, driving the air out of him in one brutal shove. His chest slams into the ground. His forehead collides with the floor with a crack.
He goes still for a second.
Too still.
Someone taps his cheek with the toe of their boot.
“You awake?”
He tries to answer.
Only manages a faint, broken noise — something between a breath and a whimper he didn’t mean to make — It just — falls out of him.
“Thought so.”
The boot lifts.
Then slams down again — His world flashes white... Then black.
Then... nothing.
He goes limp instantly — body limp, face slack, breath silent... besides the the twitch of a one finger, he is completely out.
He’s barely holding onto consciousness as it is — eyes glassy, breath strained, body still twitching from the last surge of static running through his nerves.
His head keeps dropping forward, then snapping back up in tiny, desperate jerks, like he’s fighting sleep in the middle of a nightmare he can’t wake up from.
Someone grips his jaw.
“Hey. Stay with me. Talk to me.
He tries...
He drags in a shaking inhale, lips parting, words delayed — like he’s pulling the words from the deepest part of himself.
“I… I don’t… feel—”
His voice cracks, thin and shredded.
He swallows hard, forcing the rest out:
“I think I’m— I think—”
Another tremor hits — small, sharp — surging through his neck and chest like a loose wire sparking inside him. His breath stutters. His eyes go wide, like he suddenly realizes something’s about to go very, very wrong.
“I—wait— I can’t— I’m—”
His whole face drains out at once.
The sentence dies halfway out of his mouth.
His pupils blow wide.
His jaw slackens.
His breath catches in a broken half-syllable that never finishes:
“I’m—”
Then he drops.
Like the power went out.
His head slumps, chin hitting chest.
His body goes heavy in the restraints, dead weight.
The straps hold him upright, but he’s already gone.
“Hey. HEY!”
A hand vigorously shakes his shoulder...
Nothing.
He’s out cold, mid-word,
sentence abandoned,
breath glitching into silence.
The last thing that leaves him is the ghost of the unfinished sound still hanging in the air:
“…m—”
Then he’s gone completely.
Still.
Slack.
Unresponsive.
Just hanging by straps, limp and lifeless — while the room errupts around him.
Whumper is done with whumpee, but they don't let them go. They keep them tied up, unable to move or take care of themselves, and just let them bleed. Maybe they're pretending they can handle it, maybe theyre scared and crying. Maybe they're about to pass out. Maybe they're scared they'll never wake up.
Eddie gets stabbed + bloody aftermath🔪
9-1-1 S09E18 | Hearts and Flowers
Whump Prompt #1713
Submitted by Anon - thanks!
The Caretaker discovers the Whumpee injured/drugged to the point they keep repeatedly fainting. But because of trauma/stress/adrenaline, they also keep repeatedly waking up in a panic.
So it’s just off switch, on switch, over and over again where the Whumpee tries to get as much info out as they can before slumping over in the Caretaker’s arms, and then 10 seconds later jolts awake going “WHERE AM I”
“Oh, you are going to wish you were dead by the end of this!”
Said by Whumper, but not as a threat. Not angrily. If anything….excited. With a laugh and a glint in their eye before they get started.
Whump Prompt #1706
The Villain character saves the Hero, but they have to leave them in the street and call an ambulance for them.
Alternatively, they take them to the hospital, but they have to abandon them there.
Bonus points if they're friends outside of the Hero/Villain disguises.
"I'm turning myself in, I'm not bringing this chaos to the ones I love. If any of this shit happens to one of you I will never forgive myself".
Caretaker who is built like a bouncer, blocks his path shouting,
"What do you think they're going to do!? Throw you a party?? They nearly killed you last time."
Whumpee doesn't even give it a thought - still determined - he launches for the door.
Caretaker tackles him to the ground and manages to wrangle him in place, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm up tight against his back.
Caretaker forgot how high whumpee's pain threshold is, whumpee is still trying to leave and still fighting... so he pulls tighter... They both start to hear a cracking sound in his shoulder. Finally, whumpee cries out.
"Ahhh... FUCK! OK! Ok... ok."
His voice softening with each "ok."
Project Hail Mary (2026)
(please enjoy these screen caps while I work on figuring how the heck to make gifs of this insanely lit and very strobey whump scene)
Rescued Whumpee who is just so tired. All the time. Can't get work done, too tired to focus on even enjoyable things, just chronically exhausted.
Prompt 11
"No, Hero! No!" Villain screamed desperately through the gag. They hadn't shoved the cloth in correctly so they had to take the chance. They had to warn Hero, who was sure to be nearby. "Don't come here, no!"
Unfortunately, and predictably, Supervillain didn't approve.
"Put that thing in properly." They growled and the henchmen currently holding their friend flinched. "Now."
Reluctantly, even as the villain thrashed while screaming, they pushed the cloth deep into Villain's mouth. Villain's voice became chocked and garbled, drool starting to pool in the corner of their mouth.
At some point, Supervillain must've approached them, as they were now hovering over Villain, who was having difficulty breathing.
Supervillain crouched down, waving their henchmen away. "Look here." They put a finger on the cloth. "You pull that stunt again," they snarled as they shoved the disgusting thing even deeper. Villain's eyes went wide as it touched the back of their throat. Immediately, their body convulsed as they choked, shivering.
"...you will suffer an even worser fate than what I have planned for you now, you backstabbing piece of shit."
In the distance, they heard Hero scream.
