It depends, honestly. I’ve read mainly fandom, but some oc whump. It just depends on the genre/content/themes/etc. I’ll read pretty much anything that has a good story and clean enough for my tastes.
As for writing, I’ve written some fanfic stuff that was basically all whump (before I knew the word for it) but that’s probably never going to see the light of day and I never finished any of it anyway. But pretty much all of those were also oc crossovers, so it was only half fandom. But I love torturing my own characters. It helps build their…well, character.
Warnings: Mentions of previous injury; Aftermath of Injury; Symptoms of illness
Daryl had been acting strange all day. It was his first day out of bed since he’d taken a bullet to the leg on a particularly violent run for medical supplies. He’d been a terrible patient, always trying to get up and hobble his way along on future runs or sneak out to help with patrol or community upkeep. When he awoke from a nap you’d yelled at him to take, you had literally handcuffed him to the bed railing. He agreed to behave after that and, to his credit, he did.
You still worried that attending the council meetings and visiting improvement sites was too much for his first day out. Of course, he waved off your concern with a muttered “m’fine” before nodding that he was ready for the next meeting. Even Gabriel seemed to not buy it, glancing at you for confirmation. You shrugged. There wasn’t much you could do to deter the man.
The last meeting was the longest with discussion of resources, rationing, and assigning runs, patrols, and inventory counts. You spoke up once to remind everyone that Daryl would not be available yet for runs or patrol, much to his chagrin. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head. You’d get an earful later but it didn’t change what you had already made clear, so a verbal smackdown from the archer would be taken in stride. You winced when it was decided he would not take part in inventory as well. Everyone wanted him healthy. Like you, they were unwilling to take risks.
“Then this meeting is adjourned.” Gabriel gathered up the maps and lists with a tight smile, joining others in conversation while the small group filed out of the building.
You were still staring where the priest had previously been stationed, knowing Daryl had yet to leave as well. The silence was deafening and the tension suffocating. The archer despised when you made calls for him, no matter how good the intentions behind it. His blunt nails began to drum against the wooden tabletop.
“I love you.” You said first, then turned to find him leaned back in the chair, one hand on his thigh while the other continued a tuneless cadence with the tips of his fingers. Those pretty blue eyes were narrowed and angry. “Come on, Daryl. Someone’s gotta look out for you.” He looked tired. You just wanted to get him home to rest, even if he grumbled at you the entire way.
“Been lookin’ out fer myself since I’s a kid. Don’ need ya ta do it now.”
“You know what I mean. Stop being that way.” You pouted, feeling suddenly insignificant. The way he scoffed while pushing the chair back only fueled your insecurities. “Daryl.”
“M’goin’ home. Got a bed needs watchin’.” He clicked his tongue and whistled for Dog, getting to his feet, stepping around the table, and walking away from you.
You slumped in the chair under a veil of utter defeat. Things would smooth over, but you’d hurt him, took shot after shot at his pride when he was already struggling after the injury. You could still see him moving away, but looked up when his footfalls came to a halt. Maybe he was already regretting walking away.
Standing from your chair, you took one step when Dog whined and Daryl collapsed to the floor in an unmoving heap.
“Daryl!” You didn’t bother with walking around and vaulted over the table, sliding to your knees behind him. You were shouting for help while rolling him onto his back. He was breathing, shallow but otherwise normal. He was pale, a minute difference that was just enough to notice. Fingers against his neck, you were counting the beats when Gabriel, Michonne, and Siddiq barreled inside.
“What happened?” The swordswoman asked, soothing the nervous canine.
“He just went down. Heartrate’s low.” Your panic was betrayed by the calm you were able to maintain. Michonne was watching the tremble in your hands wordlessly.
Siddiq knelt across from you. He felt of the archer’s forehead, the skin cool and clammy. “How low?”
“Forty-three.” Your voice cracked. The medic hummed, his face neutral.
“Can you help me carry him to the infirmary?” He asked Gabriel. The priest nodded, acting immediately. You scooted aside when he reached for your partner, fighting the sting behind your eyes. You had panicked enough for the entire community when they had hauled Daryl in those several days ago, his head hanging and pant leg saturated with blood. Siddiq had ordered you removed from the room when you should have been helping with the surgery to remove the bullet.
You scrambled to your feet to follow, the other woman’s hand coming to rest on your shoulder.
“Anything happen before he collapsed?”
You shifted from foot to foot, shame taking panic’s hand. “We argued a little.” The floor became mighty interesting. You knew he wasn’t feeling well and provoked him anyway, not allowing him to speak for himself as if he were a child that didn’t know any better than to push his limits. “It’s his first day up since it happened and he worked himself ragged. He was tired, looked it too. I just, I wanted…” you trailed off with a sniffle.
“You were trying to protect him.” She supplied, smiling gently when you nodded. “Y/N, men have the most fragile egos. Sometimes, you’ll just need to let him make the decisions and hope he doesn’t fall.”
“But what if he does?” You irritably wiped away a stray tear.
She closed her eyes, expression fond. She was thinking of Rick. “Then you catch him.”
Daryl was awake when you arrived, but had his head lowered. Siddiq patted the hunter’s knee and left the room to meet you just outside. “Blood pressure was eighty-nine over fifty-six. What can you tell me about his day? I know Daryl and he tends to leave out details if he thinks it’ll get him an all clear.”
You glanced in the room to find your archer still staring at his lap, worrying the side of his thumb between his teeth. “He did way too much for his first day. He was physically helping out and then going to every meeting. I barely got him to stop long enough for lunch or even some water. We, uh, we argued a bit about me answering for him at the last meeting.” You could feel the man watching you, finding kindness rather than judgment when you gathered enough courage to meet his eyes.
“The good news is that I really don’t think it’s anything serious. My best guess without being able to run any tests is vasovagal syncope.”
“Dumb it down for me.” You chuckled, sparing yet another glance into the room.
“Basically his body was reacting to stress after being cooped up in bed for so long. I assume he fell after standing up?” You nodded. “The movement caused a sudden drop in blood pressure and heartrate. Most people faint when it happens.”
“So what do I do?”
“Make sure he gets up slowly. I’ve started an IV to give him fluids as a precaution but make sure he’s taking in water and eating, even if it’s something small. Avoid stress until we can acclimate him back to the activity level he’s used to.”
You sighed. “He’s gonna love it when I tell him that.”
“You’re off the hook. I already told him.” He gave your upper arm a squeeze. “As soon as those fluids are in, you can take him home.”
“Thank you.” You smiled and squeezed his hand before it fell away and he stepped out of the infirmary altogether, leaving you and Daryl to talk. The hunter knew you were there, you didn’t need any special indications to tell you that much. “Hey.” You said quietly.
He lifted his head and tried for a smile, managing a quick upturn of one side. He knew you were right to have hovered and was trying to figure out how to apologize. You could read him like a book. Your steps hardly made a sound crossing the space that separated you from him. The thin hospital mattress dipped with your weight.
“You feel okay?” You kept your tone relaxed, petite fingers combing through the dark hair that hung like a curtain next to his face. He nodded but didn’t look up. “Siddiq said you can go home when those are done.” You indicated the bag hanging above the head of the bed. “You hungry? Thought I could do a vegetable stew as long as Michonne still has some carrots.”
“Not gon’ say ‘I told ya so’?”
“What would that solve?” You tucked the hair you’d been toying with behind his ear. Daryl shrugged with a grunt. “I only wanted you to take care of yourself, but I should have let you—”
“Didn’ mean wha’ I said.” He interjected, finally meeting your quizzical gaze. “When I said I didn’ need ya. Didn’ mean it.”
Your expression melted, impossibly softer, while your fingers left his mane to gingerly stroke his stubbled cheek. You knew he didn’t mean it. Of course you knew. “It’s okay, love. I know.” He looked away, face reddening. He was always shy under the weight of the sweet things you’d call him when his own arsenal of endearments consisted of woman and sunshine. Could he ever possibly understand how those simple words made your heart flutter? “Will you give it a few days of taking it slow?”
“Then you catch him.”
You tapped a finger against the far side of his face, willing him to return your attention. He did, the slight shifting of his jaw indicating he was chewing the inside of his lip. “Even if you say no, I’ll back you up. But I really wish you would.”
The archer studied you for any hint of an untruth, finding none in your gentle but determined stare. He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll slow down.” You wanted to beam at him but reeled it in behind a nod.
why would you do this when i learned my rights from you? (1157 words) by xEchoecho88x
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Welcome To The Table - Ben Brainard (Web Series)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Characters: DC | Gov (Welcome To The Table)
Additional Tags: Whump, Political Unrest, Violence, References to the current political situation, Hurt No Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Series: Part 2 of Whumpuary 2026
Summary:
Chaos breaks out around Gov as he tries to escape his assailants, unfortunately, he is not as successful as he may have hoped at evading them.
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Whumpuary Day 2: Can’t speak/caught/broken glass
whumpuary day 2 - how did you find the whump community?
pretty sure i've talked about it before but it's nice to think about it again and remember what happened. so i've definitely always liked whump, starting from a young age (just didn't know the word). i was always reading detective, adventure and mystery books (three investigators, famous five, those ones where those kids would get kidnapped by smugglers but with low stakes lol), and i remember a specific famous five dvd i would get at the library and just watch alone in my room on my old laptop.
that just went on, trying to specifically find books and movies and shows where characters would get hurt, getting darker and more high stakes as i got older. then, in 2017 i think, i was running this aesthetic/moodboard request blog and liked to go through the notes, when i found a blog there that posted gifs of whumpy scenes (don't remember who that was). i went deeper into that, found a bunch of other blogs that were focused on that, found out what the word whump means and that whumperflies are a thing that other people experience, and man i was just scrolling through those blogs looking at all the gifsets and it genuinely felt like some piece clicked into place and i had found my people lmao
made this blog in late 2018 and just went on a gif reblogging spree, made and posted my first whumpy gifset the day after, and then later also found all the amazing prompts people write and fanfics and original stories. been here for 6 years now and not planning on leaving anytime soon, it's a wonderful place and community.
Whumpuary 2025 Day 2: how did you find the whump community?
To be frankly honest, I don't really remember? While this blog is new, my engagement in whump and the community is not.
But I think the pipeline looked something like this: I like writing stories -> I like writing stories of characters getting hurt -> I also like reading stories of characters getting hurt -> woah people are writing stories about characters getting hurt for events and prompts 👀 -> what are these things? I wanna do that too -> Tumblr has entered the chat -> (years later) Tumblr account has entered the chat
I found the whump community through the hero/villain community on tumblr which I still love but I preferred the less romantic drabbles/relationship and tension between heroes and villains and I loved the angst, which led me to hurt/comfort but I was like… this would be great without the comfort, and voilà, here I am in the whump community which is THE NICEST community I have ever been apart of. You never feel too weird or that you are too crazy or fucked up because you see someone post something that is equally (and if not more) fucked up than what you write and you’re like “oh yah, that’s the good stuff, pump it into my veins” ahahahahah
I have met and interacted with some of the coolest people through the whump community and I love them all, they really make it special.
The juxtaposition of what we love to read/write with just the sweetest, most chill people on the internet is crazy and wild and I wouldn’t change it for the world🫶
A.N. Wow, I really love that this challenge has one writing/prompt day and one like question thing that makes it so cute and nice and relaxed and wow, I love it
I was introduced to the word “whump” when I was 14. I was writing Loki whump and Eleventh Doctor whump (some pretty heavy stuff too!) I was posting on fanfiction.net (cursed site, never go there), and some commenters used the word “whump” and kind of introduced me to what it was.
Basically, I learned that there were other people like me, that even though I’ve liked whump my entire life, that it wasn’t so strange that it was only me. I got a tumblr when I was 16 and found the whump community there! It has been amazing (and relieving) to know I’m not alone in wanting to see my favorite fictional characters suffer.
Day 2 question: How did you find the whump community: I legit do not remember. I know it was on tumblr, but aside from that I forgot lol.
Day 1: Headache
Character(s): Quincy, The Drifter, Amir
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There was a sharp pounding in Quincy’s skull as the man blinked rapidly to try and dispel it. He took a deep breath and looked through the scope of his rifle. The pulsing behind his eyes only seemed to get worse. His vision doubled, and he lowered his rifle with a hiss of annoyance.
"Quinc, you alright?" The Drifter called across comms
The pain in his head doubled, and Quincy dropped his sniper rifle with a hiss of pain. Quincy wasn't sure when he lost his balance and collapsed to the floor, but it was somewhere between realizing his headache was worse than he thought and the sound of Drifter calling his name.
Quincy lay on the cold and dirty ground, practically gasping for air. The pain in his head turned his vision to mush, and the sniper could do nothing but lay there and hope the pain went away soon.
Quincy was vaguely aware of the approaching forms of Scaldra troopers, but there was nothing he could do to defend himself, his body refusing to move.
The whimper that escaped his mouth sent a wave of shame through his body.
There was a crackle of lightning as Amir slammed into one of the Scaldra soldiers, his gun firing as The Drifter transferred out of him and to Quincy.
She crouched down beside him and lifted him into her arms.
Quincy took a shaky gasp of air.
"Hang on, love," she said softly, brushing his cheek, "I've got you,"
Tears slipped down Quincy's face before darkness consumed his vision.
Quincy awoke with an aching body. He tried to sit up, but a hand pushed him back down.
"Stay down, love,"
Quincy glanced over at The Drifter, sitting on the edge of her bed in the backrooms.
"What happened?" he slurred.
"Lettie doesn't know, headache maybe, most likely a migraine given how bad it knocked you out,"
"Stay?" he asked.
The Drifter smiled softly before sliding into bed with him, pulling him close against her chest. Quincy buried himself into her, his body relaxing against a familiar hold.
