BIG fan of when a character’s dialogue is a massive understatement on how they’re doing. They’re too out-of-it or in too much pain to actually communicate it coherently, so they end up saying the most general obvious statement of all time and worry everyone more.
Sky-high, obvious fever and all they can say is “I don’t think I feel good.” Extremely painful, apparent injury and what they say is just “it hurts.” No specifics—they can’t think clearly enough for that.
do you have any ideas for whumpee resolution arcs that don't involve killing whumper? or long legal battles?
yes absolutely!!
loved ones/found family - after the whump, Whumpee is taken in by their loved ones, or their rescuers/Caretaker, or a new team. While they can never erase what happened to Whumpee -- and they know Whumper is still out there -- being surrounded by the loving care and companionship starts to bring Whumpee out of their shell and back into the world. the healing is through connection and love
new life - after the whump, Whumpee is either forced to flee or chooses to go somewhere where they know absolutely no one. In this new place, they can be whoever and do whatever they want. Maybe there's a period of isolation at first, but Whumpee starts to try new things, talk to people they've never met, and make an entirely new life for themselves. the healing is through reinvention and reclaiming identity
mission-oriented - after the whump, Whumpee is driven by a new purpose. Maybe it's related to what they went through and making sure it doesn't happen to others, maybe it's simply because they came so close to death that they want to make every minute count. the healing is through action and dedication
mentor whumpee - after the whump, Whumpee meets someone who has gone through something similar, maybe even with the same Whumper. Helping this person/people reinvigorates Whumpee's passion for life and helps them heal themselves. the healing is through bonding and guiding someone, allowing them to see their trauma in a new light
revenge (with a twist!) - after the whump, Whumpee is hellbent on revenge. in the proces, however, they stumble across something new -- a person or a craft or a place. and in this new thing they begin to find fulfillment completely unrelated to Whumper, and while they may never forgive Whumper, their life starts to revolve around them less and less. the healing is through internal gratification and rediscovering something in themselves
just off the top of my head, would love for people to reblog with other examples, especially from their own OCs :)
You have to shove your whumpees to the ground on their stomach and yank their arms behind their back to tie their wrists before pulling them back to their knees with a harsh yank on their hair otherwise they're not getting proper enrichment
Whumper takes Whumpee to the beach, but leaves them tied up in the sun all day. By nightfall, they're burned bright pink all over. Everything hurts, they're dehydrated, and they're exhausted.
Whumper drags them back inside as they beg for water, they need something, anything to cool down. Whumper smiles and brings out a pitcher of ice cold water as Whumpee goes wide eyed and begs further.
Whumper holds it out of reach and explains that for every 5 lashes, strikes, or cuts, they can have one sip of water. Whumpee is so desperate that they agree.
The night is a long one as their sun damaged skin is further mutilated with a myriad of cuts, bruises, and welts. It's nearly dawn before the pitcher is empty.
i was too uninspired for names so. this is basically just. cliché influential wealthy family of a historical fantasy pissed off the dark shadowy assasin family. they really shouldn't have.
cw: torture, sadistic whumper, knife, blood, choking, begging, nothing sexual but whumper Is getting off of this (but nothing explicit)
me: idk i don't really see the need to tag sadistic whumper i just kind of assume until shown otherwise
god beaming this straight into my brain:
"You've never seen actual violence, have you?" He steps closer, a flutter of pleasure at the way Whumpee's eyes never leave the knife. "Your family schemes and manipulates and talks but you never do anything. A bit of blackmail, at most. Poison, maybe."
The smile on his face is anything but nice and it widens a little when he sees the restraints dig into Whumpee's neck. The spy had tried to keep the knife in sight but their eyes couldn't follow and so they'd tried to lean forward. The choked off sound that comes out of them sends a shiver a pleasure down Whumper's spine.
"Actual, bloody violence," he pushes the blade slightly – just the flat of it, not to actually hurt – and a delightful whimper of pure terror makes it way past the gag. "You've never seen."
He presses a bit deeper but Whumpee stops trying to look and leans back against the chair, no longer choking themself. Being able to breathe helps with the panicking, and they manage to meet Whumper's eyes, looking almost composed. To anyone blind enough to miss the trembling and the sweating and the drool making its way under the gag.
There's no pleading in their eyes but something reasonable instead. Almost patient. We can talk about this. Let's be reasonable.
It flies out the window the moment Whumper moves the knife towards Whumpee's bound wrist. It's just a nick, really, but it's in Whumpee's sight and it darkens the blade and the spy is back to writhing against the restraints.
They whine; a soft, pleading sound that goes straight to Whumper's gut. There's panic in their eyes alright, less negotiations and more we'll give anything you want, pleaseplease-
He moves the knife up, following the bone. The cut is deep enough to bleed, large drops of blood slowly making their way on either side. He stops at the elbow, right when Whumpee starts to strain against the restraints again to try and see what he's doing. They don't quite choke themself this time, but their whimpers stutter a little when they try to bend their neck.
Whumper keeps a light grip on the knife, using his free hand to catch one of the blood drops with a fingertip.
"My family, on the other hand," He brings his finger up, keeping the drop balanced. Whumpee mostly stops struggling, eyes fixed on the red. They follow it up until their eyes meet whumper's, flinching when he blows it forward "has made it its business. You've hired us before, did you forget?"
He pulls the knife away, bringing it back up. Whumpee’s eyes dart between the knife and him and he smiles, tongue pressing against his teeth.
“I’m going to take the gag off, now. You’ve been so good for me until now, so sweet, I really want to hear what you’re truly capable of – so, just keep going, hmm?”
He brings the knife closer to their face and can hear as they try to press against the chair and away from his blade. It slides under the cloth still wet with blood, and when whumpee whimpers the vibrations travel through the knife all the way to Whumper. He barely holds back a chuckle, eyes crinkling.
He considers forbidding the words he knows are coming the second the gag is off, but it’s too much fun.
“Please, whatever you want we will give, I swear on my name-”
He chuckles then, leaning back a little. Twirling the knife is enough to quiet the spoiled brat, who struggle to find the words as their eyes focalise on the blade. He tosses it from one hand to the other, watching their eyes ping-pong between the two. Their mouth is stuck on an umm right until he pretends to throw the knife forward, startling them into losing their breath to a magnificent cry. Their attention goes back to him, then, and his smile widens.
“The only thing I want is to teach your family a lesson. And I already have everything I need for that right here.”
He spreads his arms, making sure to point the most threatening implements in the room. A spoiled little thing like them won’t figure out what some of them are for until they’re used, of course, but the unknown can be so terrifying.
There’s the pretence of confusion in their eyes, an excuse already forming on their lips. It stops right there when Whumper presses the point of the blade into the lower lip, pushing down until Whumpee is forced to open their mouth wider. A drop of blood starts to make its way down and Whumper tracks it all the way to where it slips under Whumpee’s shirt.
“Don’t even try. The influence and wealth of your mighty family is enough for most but – you should have known better than to threaten us, really.” Whumpee looks away, swallows.
“I understand. I…” They lick their lips, flinching when they taste blood. “The lesson is learnt.”
Whumper laughs this time, baring his teeth.
“No, it’s not. I’ve scared you a little, that’s it. If I let you go right now… You’d go back, be outraged, and your family would try another stupid thing.”
Whumpee’s eyes go wild, darting all around the room as they think of something to say. For the best orator of the kingdom, it’s pathetic and Whumper shivers again.
“No, listen to me, I swear-”
The knife sinks into their shoulder quietly. It’s sharp enough for the pain to need a second to register – and then Whumpee’s words cut off with a scream. They writhe, panting, pulling against their restraints once more to try and look at the wound and getting increasingly agitated.
Whumper takes a step back and watch, waiting for them to settle. It takes a while, but finally their eyes turn towards him. They’re still not breathing properly, chest rising too quickly as their breath hitches every so often. Their eyes dart between Whumper and the handle of the knife, but when their attention is mostly on him, he speaks calmly.
“No. You’re intimidated by the restraints and the dungeon and you’re afraid of pain, but you haven’t learnt anything. You’re scared of the knife, of the man lost to his most base and animalistic instincts who wields it.”
They both know it’s verbatim. Whumpee’s throat bobs and Whumper makes sure he’s all predator when he grabs it. His grip is tight enough to choke down the sob trying to escape Whumpee.
“When I’m done teaching you, it’s not blades you’ll fear. Not whips or fire or nails.”
He can feel Whumpee’s blood thumping under his fingers, quickening as they struggle. Nothing but choked noises manage to make it past their lips but please is easy enough to lipread. Their struggles die down slowly but they continue to blink at him pleadingly right until their eyes glaze over. He relaxes his grip just slightly, forcing them to take small breaths.
“Please-”
He never breaks eye contact, free hand reaching for the knife. They panic a little when he grabs the handle, but he tightens his grip again, waiting until they’ve settled to twist and pull. He feels more than hear their scream, cutting it off by tightening his grip.
They’re not struggling but writhing right until they go limp, slumping into the restraints. He slowly lets go of their throat, stepping away. They’re looking up at him and barely flinche when he uses the knife to tilt their chin upwards. Their eyes don’t stray from his face, even when he leans forward to dig a finger into their bleeding shoulder.
They’re too breathless, their throat too bruised to properly speak, but they mouth the word repeatedly. Pleas quieter than the blood Whumper can hear thumping in his ears.
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