(main:@desolationarchivist) juno // any pronouns // queer, slavic & neurodivergent // whump, hurt/comfort, all the good stuff // shakespeare enthusiast, lover of miserable blorbos, glup shittos and the like (header by me)
My name is Juno (any pronouns) and I’ve been lurking in this community for a long while before I decided to make my own blog for sharing my own Unhinged Woeful Blorbo Thoughts.
I’ve loved fictional angst and hurt (+ comfort) ever since I was a kid but finding that space of likeminded folks had been very lovely, especially since I can now find the exact content I love and bond with folks over it.
My other interests include reading, writing, drawing, math, hiking and more! I’m currently in the process of writing a book (that includes a lot of whump hehe but also many other shit I’m insane about).
Askbox is open, you can ask me stuff, share things you enjoy or ask me to write on a prompt/idea (though it's possible that I might refuse if it's something that squeaks me or simply something outside of my skillset). But do mind that I might take a while before I get to it lol
Do mind that this blog will probably be a bit inconsistent and having periods of rarely posting, as I am often busy (+ art/writingblocked lmao). But either way I’m very happy to join this community!
picks up your ill and injured whumpee who has been left to sleep on the ground, regardless of how they ache to their bones and struggle to draw breath, and tucks them into a clean soft bed supported by plenty of pillows. btw
say it with me. you do not have to be working through something to like whump. you do not need to have trauma to enjoy hurting/seeing characters get hurt. your ocs do not have to be self-inserts or reveal deep and buried parts of your psyche
In the light of Artemis II (and their subsequent safe arrival, God bless!), Project Hail Mary and the new Space Age, I offer you: !! astronaut whump !!!
Whumpee getting the bends en route to the orbital spacecraft because of the pressure differential. Maybe in the rocket they're starting to feel sick, and aching, and out of air but their crewmates tell them it's just nerves As Always . But they arrive in a horrible condition and the medic chucks them in the hyperbaric chamber at the speed of light.
Humans finally land on a greatly coveted planet and mere minutes after all of humanity is cheering and hugging and starstruck, millions get their ears pierced by an "OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING?", then the sound of something non-carbonic and hungry for blood. Video feed is knocked over and goes to black.
A murder mystery on a larger space station, a-la Among Us !! You can trust no one - you rely on mission success and survival on everyone. The paranoia, the claustrophobia, the increasing shedding of tolerance and formal niceties between crew members, long-repressed tensions and feuds between crewmates bubbling up to the surface. The GUILT, even when a given member isn't the one responsible at all. The fear of being falsely accused and chucked into open space. A crew member witnessing the perpetrator but not being believed by anyone.
Whumpee's first time being an astronaut - bonus points for them being younger and having unresolved mental health issues they decided to power and mask through just to make their dream a reality. Panic attacks, nausea, vertigo from hell, - may I offer you once again decompression sickness??
What if said young anxious whumpee is the one sent to a brutal yet load-bearing mission? They think it will kill them - it *should* by all metrics have killed them, just as it had ones stronger and wiser before them - but here they are, sleepy with morphine, rolled up in thermal foil and a weighted blanket, oxygen mask on their glasses-less face. The Captain is stroking their hair with their big hand, murmuring soft "You did so well, kid. We are so proud of you. You are a hero."
Whumpee somehow ending up floating untethered through open space, their oxygen and heating system slowly giving way as they face the cold, infinite cosmos.
Getting abducted by aliens! Strange grotesque creatures in their incomprehensible mothership, yet smarter than humans. Unbeatably smarter than humans. It could be the whole team, confused and terrified but being so together. Or could be just one of them - ground control, their colleagues, their family, humanity having lost any kind of connection with them under strange circumstances. They're all batshit terrified, yet cannot even begin to grasp that whumpee is quite literally kidnapped and made into the guinea pig of aliens that weld their limbs to a cold titanium table and stuff their mouth with alien sludge because as intelligent as they are, they cannot understand whumpee's human instincts of screaming and crying.
Something going awry on a spacewalk and whumpee's suit tearing. It's just a tiny hole, yet they're subjected to the absolute fucking cosmic horror of -455° Fahreinheit temperatures and their lungs slapping vacuum-shut.
The good ole classic of whumpee's shuttle crashing on a foreign, likely inhospitable planet, and them having to do their best to survive with what they have - all alone.
Whumpee returning to Earth after a long mission and having to be pushed in a wheelchair the first few weeks by their loved ones, shakily do physiotherapy and get assistance with tasks like showering or eating because of muscle atrophy.
May I also once again raise you chronic disembarkment vertigo?
Re aliens, what if, alternatively, they’re good? Whumpee gets into a gruelling accident with their shuttle in the middle of bumfuck nowhere outer space and gets knocked out. A non descript amount of time later, they begin to slowly come to, initially thinking they died and are in the afterlife because of how weird everything around them looks. What if it turned out benevolent, intelligent extraterrestrials intercepted them, took care of their injuries, put them in a room on the mothership bathed in a soft warm light (“It puts humans into parasympathetic state, leading to relaxation and comfort”). The heat set to perfect human temps, as if the astronaut is a fragile hatchling in an incubator. Maybe their bare, weak body is all wrapped in some strange waterlogged alien tissue, meant to keep them all warm, compressed and provided with nutrients. The creatures that keep vigil over them are strange and uncanny but in their faces Whumpee recognises a rehearsed attempt at imitating earthen primate grimaces of friendliness and care. Perhaps Whumpee is even gently restrained but with the sole and only purpose of being kept safe.
In the light of Artemis II (and their subsequent safe arrival, God bless!), Project Hail Mary and the new Space Age, I offer you: !! astronaut whump !!!
Whumpee getting the bends en route to the orbital spacecraft because of the pressure differential. Maybe in the rocket they're starting to feel sick, and aching, and out of air but their crewmates tell them it's just nerves As Always . But they arrive in a horrible condition and the medic chucks them in the hyperbaric chamber at the speed of light.
Humans finally land on a greatly coveted planet and mere minutes after all of humanity is cheering and hugging and starstruck, millions get their ears pierced by an "OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING?", then the sound of something non-carbonic and hungry for blood. Video feed is knocked over and goes to black.
A murder mystery on a larger space station, a-la Among Us !! You can trust no one - you rely on mission success and survival on everyone. The paranoia, the claustrophobia, the increasing shedding of tolerance and formal niceties between crew members, long-repressed tensions and feuds between crewmates bubbling up to the surface. The GUILT, even when a given member isn't the one responsible at all. The fear of being falsely accused and chucked into open space. A crew member witnessing the perpetrator but not being believed by anyone.
Whumpee's first time being an astronaut - bonus points for them being younger and having unresolved mental health issues they decided to power and mask through just to make their dream a reality. Panic attacks, nausea, vertigo from hell, - may I offer you once again decompression sickness??
What if said young anxious whumpee is the one sent to a brutal yet load-bearing mission? They think it will kill them - it *should* by all metrics have killed them, just as it had ones stronger and wiser before them - but here they are, sleepy with morphine, rolled up in thermal foil and a weighted blanket, oxygen mask on their glasses-less face. The Captain is stroking their hair with their big hand, murmuring soft "You did so well, kid. We are so proud of you. You are a hero."
Whumpee somehow ending up floating untethered through open space, their oxygen and heating system slowly giving way as they face the cold, infinite cosmos.
Getting abducted by aliens! Strange grotesque creatures in their incomprehensible mothership, yet smarter than humans. Unbeatably smarter than humans. It could be the whole team, confused and terrified but being so together. Or could be just one of them - ground control, their colleagues, their family, humanity having lost any kind of connection with them under strange circumstances. They're all batshit terrified, yet cannot even begin to grasp that whumpee is quite literally kidnapped and made into the guinea pig of aliens that weld their limbs to a cold titanium table and stuff their mouth with alien sludge because as intelligent as they are, they cannot understand whumpee's human instincts of screaming and crying.
Something going awry on a spacewalk and whumpee's suit tearing. It's just a tiny hole, yet they're subjected to the absolute fucking cosmic horror of -455° Fahreinheit temperatures and their lungs slapping vacuum-shut.
The good ole classic of whumpee's shuttle crashing on a foreign, likely inhospitable planet, and them having to do their best to survive with what they have - all alone.
Whumpee returning to Earth after a long mission and having to be pushed in a wheelchair the first few weeks by their loved ones, shakily do physiotherapy and get assistance with tasks like showering or eating because of muscle atrophy.
May I also once again raise you chronic disembarkment vertigo?
Re aliens, what if, alternatively, they’re good? Whumpee gets into a gruelling accident with their shuttle in the middle of bumfuck nowhere outer space and gets knocked out. A non descript amount of time later, they begin to slowly come to, initially thinking they died and are in the afterlife because of how weird everything around them looks. What if it turned out benevolent, intelligent extraterrestrials intercepted them, took care of their injuries, put them in a room on the mothership bathed in a soft warm light (“It puts humans into parasympathetic state, leading to relaxation and comfort”). The heat set to perfect human temps, as if the astronaut is a fragile hatchling in an incubator. Maybe their bare, weak body is all wrapped in some strange waterlogged alien tissue, meant to keep them all warm, compressed and provided with nutrients. The creatures that keep vigil over them are strange and uncanny but in their faces Whumpee recognises a rehearsed attempt at imitating earthen primate grimaces of friendliness and care. Perhaps Whumpee is even gently restrained but with the sole and only purpose of being kept safe.
Hiiiiii I was just thinking about something and wondered if you'd want to write a snippet for it
Imagine a prince whumpee getting kidnapped. He's not bratty or super coddled, but he's still royalty. Maybe he was on the run from usurpers, maybe he was minding his own business in the gardens. But he gets nabbed, bound, gagged, the whole shebang. Maybe even roughed up a little👀
Why he's getting yoinked is up to you!!!
thank you so much for this, it was really fun!
content: royal whump, kidnapping, bound and gagged
Christoper is running. Again.
His life has been on-and-off sprints ever since his cousin, Darian, marched to the palace with thousands of swords under his command and stole the throne. Christopher barely escaped, and now that's all he's been doing. His cousin's army is vast, and they've spread out across the kingdom looking for the last thing in Darian's way.
Christopher has no army, no allies, not even a sword, but he'll be damned if he doesn't have his speed.
Darian's men race after him as he tears through the forest, leaping over roots and kicking up fallen leaves in his wake. He doesn't know where he's going, just that he can't stop. That strategy hasn't failed him yet...
But nothing lasts forever.
These men aren't as dumb as the ones that have been chasing after him lately, and it catches him off guard when the blue-clad soldiers appear in front of him. So much so that he does the fatal thing. He trips.
He hits the ground hard, and before he can even attempt to get up, he feels a boot on his back, shoving him into the moss and roots. He cries out, and another boot kicks him, joined by another, and another, until Christopher loses count and blows are raining on him from all sides. All he can do is curl up and cover his head and pray for it to be over soon.
It ends, eventually, with him bruised and probably a little broken. The soldiers don't care, though, and they roughly bind him with rope. His ankles and knees are tied together, and his hands are tied behind his back and stuffed in a small sack that cinches tightly around his wrists.
"I am your rightful prince," Christopher says as soon as he comes face to face with the captain of the group, marked with a gold pin on his uniform.
For that, he gets a slap across the face.
"You think I give a shit?" the captain says. "Unless you can pay me, boy, you're nothing but a shiny little item our prince wants. And who are we to deny him?"
"You will all face justice," Christopher snaps.
The captain repeats his words mockingly, and the rest of the men laugh.
"Gag him," the captain commands.
Someone pulls a thick cloth around Christopher's mouth and ties it tightly behind his head, even as he thrashes to avoid it.
He's pissed at himself for getting caught. How could he have let this happen? He should have been faster, smarter, stronger. No wonder all the best fighters of the kingdom chose Darian.
They've clearly prepared to capture him, because they throw him in a caged wagon and get going quickly. Bound and without his voice, Christopher is completely powerless.
All he can do now is wonder why Darian wants him alive.
ways for a famous whumpee's whump situation to be revealed:
in an interview: they answer a question honestly, not realising what they've said is incredibly fucked up and should never have happened to them because, for whumpee, it's so normal.
social media: someone secretly takes a video of whumpee being hurt. the next morning, whumpee's phone is blowing up and footage of their blood is everywhere.
public collapse: whumpee is walking the red carpet, accepting an award, acting on stage. they're the centre of attention, and they're not feeling good at all. every camera is on them when they hit the floor.
being recognised: it's an emergency, whumpee has to go to a&e, there's no other place for them. the hospital staff try to find them somewhere private to wait, but not before half-a-dozen people have snapped a picture of whumpee to tell their friends.
if you work in a creative field...or if you do creative hobbies like writing or drawing...you need to make friends with people who don't do those things. you need to befriend normie Steve who has never written a story in his life. and this is because when you are in a creative job or hobby and spend all your time doing that thing, surrounded by very capable people, who you inevitably compare your own progress and skills to, you forget what the baseline human skill at that thing is. and it's usually zero. normie Steve has not written a story since the 3rd grade when his teacher made him do it. he's very good at other things that are not storytelling - but if you tell normie Steve that you wrote a full 300-page book from start to finish, he will think you're some kind of savant. he does not know ANYONE else who has done this. you need this perspective. because when you're constantly on Let's Write Stories dot Com then everyone on Let's Write Stories dot Com will inevitably be like "oh of course everyone on earth has written a book or several at this point!" and you canNOT let yourself think that. that is not even close to the average human experience. you are in a bubble. do not put yourself down. do not give up.
Magic user Whumpee in a team full of people who know absolutely nothing about magic at all.
The first time they’re vulnerable enough to wear clothes that don’t cover all of their skin, they’re worried of how the team will react to the magic markings on their skin, but nobody seems particularly bothered.
In fact, they all think it’s super cool. All of them think magic is invaluable, after all, and can’t imagine why Whumpee would cover up the markings it causes.
They ask a few questions here and there (after all they’ve never heard of magic doing that before) and Whumpee gives vague answers that are enough to satiate their curiosity.
Some time after a strenuous mission, Whumpee panics about the markings spreading. The team assume Whumpee is insecure about how they look, so comfort them by saying how much they love the markings.
Whumpee starts to cover up less, however this leads to disaster when the team encounter a fellow spellcaster and Whumpee doesn’t have a cloak or anything to hand.
To the team’s surprise, the spellcaster is horrified because oh my god what the hell happened to Whumpee?? Are they ok??? How the hell are they alive????
That day, the team find out that magical markings aren’t, in fact, normal, and are clear cut signs of magic actively harming the user. Whumpee had been covering them up because they didn’t want anyone to think they were weak.
This entire time, Whumpee had been actively rotting because of their magic, and the signs had been right there for all of the team to see. And they didn’t know any better.
Caretaker is having a very hard time getting Whumpee to believe that they, as a person, deserve to be treated as a human. Therapy was slow going, and just existing was difficult because they had to fight Whumpee just to take care of them.
So, instead of attacking the problem head on, they go for a different approach. Education. Suddenly, Whumpee’s days were no longer just sitting and staring at a wall, reaffirming their own worthlessness, they were studying. History. Philosophy. Literature.
Caretaker now had a bit less guilt about telling them what to do, they were teaching them, not training them. They could tell them to eat and drink because truthfully, their brain needed it. Same for sleeping.
And Whumpee seemed to pick up some of the subjects, showing genuine interest and something else more meaningful. Caretaker is happy to answer questions.
It’s not easy, but no one expected it to be. But the day Caretaker walks in to see Whumpee slumped atop a stack of books, sobbing, is the day that really changed everything.
