OwO I see you have discovered my whump sideblog. Hello! I am really fond of lady whump with lots of angst bc self insertā¢, also anime whump (feel free to slide into my DMs if you find any good ones). Here I mostly reblog things I like, but when in the mood, I would sketch whumpy stuff and post it here. If you are interested in art or fanfiction check out my other blogs!
About
Tumblr blogs: art tumblr || writing tumblr
Bring your characters to life (commissions open!):
Anime/Manga || Semirealism
Anyway, hope you enjoy this whump blog! š
āMasterlist under the cutā
Masterlist
ā³ļø: coming soon-ish
Genshin Impact (Writing)
Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader)
ā³ļø Malfunction (Alhaitham x Reader)
Genshin Impact (Art)
ChiLumi - Childe Whump
ChiLumi - Lumine Whump Part 1
ChiLumi - Lumine Whump Part 2
ChiLumi - Lumine Whump Part 3
Thoma Whump
Love and Deepspace
ā³ļø Just in time (Sylus x Reader)
Fic Recommends
Genshin Impact
Heart to Heart (Ayato, Cyno, Diluc) - dying in arms
This is truly an unbeatable comfort line for me. Because wdym just knowing their friend is there is enough to comfort the Character and let them know they're safe. Wdym the trust between them is so profound and deep that all they need to hear is their name
a post will have 500 notes and only 48 of them will be reblogs. i promise you that reblogging something will not ruin your aesthetic on this utterly swagless website.
CONTENT WARNINGS: death, suicide ideation (most prominent in xavier's), read rafayel's 'when light falls' card so his part makes sense, fem reader in rafayelās, they're super mean to other people hereš, angst, angst & a whooooole lotta angst
NOTE: my debut post to the lads community! i just wanna say i am SO sorry for such a brutal first smau oh my goodnessš i would also like to apologize if they're a little ooc, i just started playing the game and im still trying to get a feel for the characters šµāš« i hope you all enjoy this regardless! :')
masterlist
@kamieow 2025. reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3
whumpee who realizes where this is going, that whumper is going to rape them and there's no stopping it, and panics. starts begging - not for them not to do it, not to touch them, not for them to stop please please stop please don't, but begging for whumper's mercy.
"be gentle. please, just- please. be gentle. go slow. please."
and when whumper is on top of them, inside them, rocking in and out of them, slow and soft, and they're sobbing so hard they can't breathe, whumper strokes their face, rolls their hips until they're so deep inside whumpee that whumpee can't breathe, and coos at them.
"what are you so upset about? it's what you asked for. i'm being gentle aren't i?"
āThose moves." Caretaker said, wiping sweat from their forehead, "Theyāre not ones that you learn how to fight traditionally. Theyāre ones you learn fighting to survive.ā
Whumpee blinked.
āSo who taught you how to fight?ā
Hah. Whumpee let out a faint snort, then huffed and stood up, taking their weapon.
"You don't want to know." Whumpee felt Caretaker's gaze follow them as they walked out, an image of Whumper plastered in their mind.
Caretaker and Whumpee are in a relationship. It's not going well. Whumpee lies constantly, keeps secrets, is doing a lot of 'overtime' at work, coming home later and later. And then they get snappy at Caretaker whenever Caretaker tries to bring any of this up.
Caretaker doesn't want to break up with Whumpee, but they know things also aren't working between them, so they get a therapist. Privately, without Whumpee knowing. They vent their frustrations about how Whumpee's attitude and behaviour is hurting them. About how they think Whumpee might be cheating because they're being too secretive around their phone, and, no matter what lengths Whumpee goes to to hide them, Caretaker has seen those fucking hickeys.
It sounds like a classic case of cheating. Whumpee's fallen in love with a co-worker, or is maybe having a secret affair with their boss. The usual dramas. But Caretaker still loves Whumpee despite all of this, and they want to try to make it work. So they work with their therapist to come up with a way to have an actual conversation with Whumpee. Non-confrontational, open, "I just want to hear you out."
And it works. A little too well.
It starts out hostile. Whumpee is defensive as usual, and then they just... break down. The truth comes tumbling out. Whumper has been abusing them for months, threatening them to keep quiet, hurting them so badly they've had to miss shifts at work to go to the hospital then make up the lost hours with overtime. And Caretaker listens with increasing horror as Whumpee gets more and more upset because fuck they have misjudged this terribly.
They comfort Whumpee the best they can, then immediately text their therapist.
"We had the conversation. It's... a little more complicated than I thought."
Do you have any dialogue ideas for a whumpee who tells caretaker what happened to them? I'm writing something and I for the life of me can't get the dialogue to work. Or maybe even someone can point me in a direction to another post?
i'm so sorry this is so late, my friend, i'm sure you've already written the scene or moved on by now but i do LOVE this question so i'm going to give some options. given the subject of this blog i assume you mean a whumpee who was raped telling caretaker about it. if that's not what you meant, my bad. but, here we go!! enjoy.
"i- i can't- i need you to ask me. i can't say it, i need you to ask me questions, okay? please. you- i think you know. please just ask me."
"i was raped." [pause, trembling breath] "sorry. i didn't mean to just- to say it like that, i just- i had to get it out. i don't think i'd- i was raped."
"i think something happened to me. someone... i think someone did something to me."
"you want me to tell you what happened? fine. fine, i'll tell you what happened. whumper fucked me. they pinned me down and spread my legs and shoved inside me and fucked me until they came. i was a fucking toy for them, a toy that they fucked. is that what you wanted to hear? are you happy now?"
"they wouldn't stop. i said no, and they didn't listen."
"it... hurt. it hurt. they wouldn't stop, and it hurt. i- please don't make me say it."
"i don't want to make you deal with this, i really don't want to force you to- i just- i really need to talk about this, because someone did something to me, and i can't- i don't feel okay. i don't- i feel- can i tell you? is it okay if i tell you what... can i talk to you about it?"
"you know what they did. come on. you know."
"whumper... forced me."
"i tried to fight. i promise i did, i said no, i fought, i did. i tried to get away. i didn't just- i didn't just let them-"
"i didn't even fight. it's fucking shameful, it's embarrassing. i laid there and took it, i let them fuck me like some- like-"
A whumpee with broken ribs. They just got out of a situation, and Caretaker, who doesn't realize that they were injured, hugs them tightly. Cue Caretaker's frantic apologizing as Whumpee doubles over from the pain in their ribs.
I feel like I see lots of injured Whumpees but never any Whumpees who have objects of caused injury still stuck in them.
Picture it:
Whumpee crumpled up in a ball on their cell floor, clutching the hilt of a knife buried in their gut, blood seeping from between their teeth.
Whumpee who fell several stories during a buildings collapse and canāt move a muscle to escape the rubble because thereās a rod sticking out of their abdomen, pinning them to the ground.
Whumpee tied up in their seat, unconscious. Rescuer finds them with nails pinning their hands to the arms of the chair.
Whumpee who has been shot and Medic who is frantically looking for the bullet but canāt find it. Caretaker holds Whumpeeās head in their lap, trying to keep them from falling asleep as they slowly bleed out. ORā¦
Whumpee thatās been shot but has no way to fish the bullet out, whether it be too deep in or they just donāt have the knowledge to do so. They sew up the hole in their abdomen, limb, etc., with nothing more than a prayer that it didnāt hit anything vital.
Whumpee with arrow(s) through their shoulder blades, trudging along through a winter forest, leaving a bloody trail in their wake. They donāt know where theyāre going, but they canāt let themselves sit down to rest for fear they wouldnāt get back up. But theyāre so, so coldā¦
Could you make a prompt/drabble about a whumpee having sex with caretaker for the first time in a while after being assaulted by whumper, and caretaker guiding them through the entire thing? I love your work by the way!
i would LOVE to this is one of my favourite things forever. i <3 sex after trauma. for anyone reading this, this drabble is intended in the context of platonic sex/friends being sexually intimate/other nonromantic context. interpret it how you want of course, but that is how we roll on this blog.
...
they're both nervous. whumpee is nervous, but caretaker is nervous, too. they want this to be... good. to be safe.
"it's okay if you have to stop," caretaker says. their voice is soft and warm. there's only a dim lamp on in the room, and they're in caretaker's bed, dressed in their pajamas. that felt like a silly way to do this, but it makes sense. they're comfortable, it's loose clothing, but they're not jumping straight to being fully naked. they're taking it slow. that's the plan. take it slow. "i just- you can always say stop. that's always okay."
whumpee is quiet at first and nerves climb higher in caretaker's throat. was that too patronizing? did it feel true enough? did they fuck up the wording, did it- was it-
"you can, too," is what whumpee finally says. "say no, i mean. it's okay if you want to stop."
caretaker looks at them sharply, abruptly worried that it seems like they don't actually want to be here, that shame and guilt is making whumpee feel like a horrible burden. it wouldn't be the first time. but that's... what's on their face isn't that. it's not guilt, or prickly defensiveness, or... it's warmth. it's an awkward, shy kind of earnestness, because- oh. right. they just... they meant that. they want caretaker to know that they can stop, too. it's- it's really sweet, is what it is.
"yeah," caretaker breathes, reaching over and taking whumpee's hand. they squeeze tight, get a tight squeeze back. they're close, and the sudden eye contact, sudden closeness, is making their skin feel hot, especially between their legs. "yeah. anyone gets to stop. any time. ground rule."
they smile at each other. it's earnest, a bit embarrassed, a little silly. it's time.
they start slow. caretaker's hands are warm and gentle, sliding up underneath whumpee's shirt. they pay attention, watch for reactions as things ramp up. sometimes, whumpee flinches or makes a faint whimpering sound. caretaker pauses when that happens, their hands going still, their bodies pressed close together, waiting but not pulling away. not calling a stop to things. they don't ask incessantly, don't constantly force whumpee to answer is this okay, are you good, do you want to keep going? but they wait for whumpee to start pressing into their touch again, for them to nod, to keep going.
caretaker hums in pleasure against the top of whumpee's head. they're both naked, bodies nearly indistinguishable, rocking into each other, into the feeling. they exhale whumpee's name, and whumpee laughs - actually laughs, quiet and brief but sincere and happy.
(whumpee had forgotten that part. how sometimes sex can mean laughing. can mean giggling and pressing your foreheads together before peppering kisses down someone's jaw.)
it's... it's good. it's not perfect. whumpee gets scared, they flinch, they nearly need to stop altogether when caretaker touches them in just the wrong way. but they recover. caretaker holds them, their naked bodies still touching, still joined, still flushed and wet and aroused by each other, but doesn't continue thrusting, doesn't kiss their stuttered breathing away. they just hold whumpee, stopped mid-fuck, and murmur, "it's me. you're safe. it's me, we're in my bed, in my bedroom. just us here. we're safe. we're okay. it's okay."
and it is. it's okay.
it's good.
they lay together afterwards, spent and relaxed and happy, whumpee feeling raw and vulnerable but still feeling good about what they did. they press their face into caretaker's collarbone, wrap arms around their bare waist, skin to skin, breathing together as the aftershocks of sex fade.
they'll talk about it. they'll talk about how it went, about whether it's something they want to do again. if whumpee starts to tip into feeling bad, they can talk about that, too. but for now they lay together, holding each other. it worked. it was good.
Whumpee who cries out in fear in a dream = good, good
Whumpee who apologizes in a dream = Even better
Think about it for a moment. Whumpee asleep beside Caretaker, perhaps in the same bed. Caretaker wakes to the sound of some kind of dry, hiccoughing sobbing. They turn towards Whumpee and find them trapped in a restless sleep, face pale and contorted.
āā¦ām sorry,ā¦ā Whumpee slurs, sleep sticking to their voice.
And who are they apologizing to?
Whumper? āIām sorry, donāt hurt me, Iāll be better?ā
Hey there! I've always loved how you write Levi, he is always so in character that it makes all your stories seem so believable and close to canon for me š. Keep up the great work! If you're not too busy, I'd like to request an angsty oneshot of Levi and his female s/o who are captured together. Levi is restrained and all he could do is watch as they torture his lover to death. I live for the angsttt! Oh and thanks in advance!
Soooo while I love angst....this is heartbreaking!!! šššššššššššš
šHeartbreakš
Erwin found him clutching her broken body. His tears dried up but his face wracked with grief as he held her. He looked down in sorrow as he watched his friend gently close his loverās eyes for the last time and press a kiss against her cooling lips.
The other Scouts that had entered the room stood silently, respectfully as Captain Levi lifted Y/N in his arm and carried her body from the room where he had watched her die.
~~~~~
It wasnāt supposed to happen this way. It was routine. Just asking questions as they gathered intel on a noble that was acting in their own interests. Lining their pockets with every death of a soldier outside the walls.
The mission wasnāt supposed to go south. Levi hadnāt anticipated that they would be cornered, captured and waiting to die.
He had pulled against his bonds, the chains that held him to the walls sturdy as the pulled with all his might. There was no give in the metal, no weak leak for him to exploit. He might have been absurdly strong, but even he had his limits when his hands were chained.
He heard her cries, even when she was trying to hold them in. The muffled agony as she pressed her lips together was tearing him apart. Her skin was riddled with cuts as her tormentors continued to slice into her flesh, using his own knife as they laughed at her pain.
It had started with hitting her, punches that stole her breath and made her spit blood. He had cursed them, demanded that they abuse him instead. But they knew what they were doing, what the woman with him meant to him. It was the best way to get to him, attacking his heart.
She had demanded he not say a word, her eyes flashing in anger at giving in to the pigs. Y/N was always so damn strong against the enemy. But her body could only handle so much.
When her face was bruised and swollen, her spirit still wasnāt broken. She had spit her blood back on them, making Levi proud even as he wished she hadnāt invoked their wrath further.
He had tried to stall for time, directing their attention to him. Cursing and insulting them to get them to come use him for a punching bag for awhile. But they had kept their focus on Y/N.
Then they had pulled out the knife. His eyes widening as he realized they had found its location in his boot when he was knocked unconscious. His guilt at bringing the weapon being used to slice into her making him want to rip them apart. If he every got out of here, he was going to take them apart, piece by piece. Making her cries seem like a happy experience.
Levi knew she was losing to much blood, that it was practically impossible to save her unless Erwin showed up right at that moment. Her breathing was weak, her body sagging. She had been unbound but made no move to escape. She barely flinched as the last strike was dealt to her exhausted body.
His own scream of agony filled the air as her killer thrusts the knife into her body, delivering the killing blow. She could barely raise her head to find his horror filled eyes. Her own orbs filled with pain, she had given him a tired smile, her teeth covered with blood and whispered she loved him.
When the light in her eyes had dulled, he had lowered his head and screamed himself hoarse. Until the strike to the back of his head had been delivered, knocking him out.
When he had come to, he was on the floor, unchained and alone in the room. Save for her body. He had crawled over to her, his tears falling on the stones as he reached her. His hands shaking as he pulled her body into his arms and buried his face in her hair. His grief pouring out in wracking sobs as he heard the clash of steel and shouts of their rescue party, too late to save his love.
Erwin knew that he would be some time before Levi would talk, even more time before he would be able to move past the heartbreak he had just been dealt with the murder of his lover.
getting into a life-threatening accident where your fave has to watch the color of your vision fade in and out...
How his blood freezes, ice running up his veins at the news, as his heart works even faster than gravity, dropping to the pit of his stomach before the items falling from his hands ever reach the ground. And when heās finally allowed to see you after pacing back and forth relentlessly outside your doorā¦ his heart shatters at how he wishes he couldāve been there to protect you. Heās never seen you so fragile: your skin dull, your lips pale, your breathing shallow ā a far cry from the liveliness he so adores. On the bedside table, your vision flickers, a pulsing heart oscillating between vivacious color and the empty lack thereof. āAs long as you can get through the night,ā the doctors say. And so he holds your delicate hand in his, silently begging you to please keep fighting.
Or alternatively: youāre mortally wounded after having taken a hit for him, and now youāre limp in his arms, the torn hem of his shirt wrapped around your torso in a makeshift bandage as you mutter nonsense I love youās as if itād be your last. And all he can do is whisper hushed reassurances because he has to keep his head on his shoulders while he carries you to the nearest healer. It should have been him. Why couldn't he protect you? The shadows of guilt and fear and failure and heartbreak circulate from his head to his heart, but all he can do is draw on his own willpower. āYouāre okay,ā he promises instead, though heās unsure who heās trying to convince with the way your vision dulls. āStay with me.ā
