#whump trope

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WRITING RESOURCES

LIST OF INJURIES SOMEONE COULD OBTAIN IF THEY WERE SEXUALLY ASSAULTED

(trigger warning is applied.)

fractured pelvis (if their body was bent against a desk, a car, or something with hard surfaces)

ligature marks around their neck

bruises on their arms, thighs, legs

abrasions on their cheek (if their face was pressed against concrete floor)

urinary tract infection

blood in stool, blood in urine

lacerations around and/or inside the genitalia

[sm-darling]

"To the Victor Go the Spoils" Whump | Dark | Hero/Villain

Note: This is a bit cheesy but I hope you enjoy a little classic hero/villain shenanigans

TW: Non-consent, suggestively nsfw

“You give up so easily it almost takes the fun out of things. There is something I want, though,” Villain said. He ran his tongue against his teeth subtly, and then grinned at Hero. “I’ll let you take a guess what it is.” Excitement, twisted, demented, excitement glinted in his eyes.

She didn’t even want to guess, not knowing what he’d done—what he still might do. 

She shook her head, and swallowed nervously, slowly backing away from him. “Y-you can’t—don’t—you’ve already won,” she stammered. “You don’t have to hurt me.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, but the way he said it wasn’t remotely comforting, as he took a step forward for each step she took back.

The backs of her knees hit the edge of her bed and she froze, looking up at him. 

“I’ll give you a hint. What do you think happens when you lose?” He asked curiously. 

“Bad things. The world is—”

He laughed softly. “I’m not talking about the greater good, I’m talking about you and I,” he said musically, as though somehow the two of them were at the center of this little story. As if she’d ever been at the center of anything. 

 He placed a hand on her chest, and her blood ran ice-cold as he leaned down into her ear. “What do you think?” 

“I don’t—” He cut her off by shoving her down onto her bed. Then he was on her, firm grip seizing her wrists as his knees boxed her in on either side.

Oh no. Oh fuck. She tried to wriggle free, but he was holding her too tight for her to escape. He couldn’t actually be—no. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. Yet even if she could fight him, she couldn't leave. He was right that he'd won, and that he had all the power in this scenario.

“What do you think I would want?” He mused.

Cold indifference turned to panic fast. “No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head. “No you can’t—please it’s not fair!” She hated the way she sounded, like a desperate child angry at the world, confused why bad things had to happen.

He almost looked surprised. “Didn’t you expect this?”

“I didn’t!” She admitted, her words shaking, her breath heavy. Her eyes stung with tears. “Please, Villain, not this,” she begged, humiliation burning red in her cheeks. “Anything but this.”

“Consider it the consequences of your own actions. You failed. You lose.” 

“Fine, yes I lost, but this has nothing to do with what I did,” she said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “You don’t have to be this kind of monster, please.” 

“Call me a monster if you will, but the only thing that really matters is that I won, and, well, what do you think happens when you lose?” He asked, eyes narrowed just slightly, but there was a clear taunt in his words.

She found herself aggravated by his condescension. “I–what—I lose, that’s all it’s supposed to be.”

He was silent for far too long, and she felt him shift on the bed, sliding his knee up between her thighs and forcing them apart. The finality of that gesture made her wince. “To the victor go the spoils,” he purred. 

“I’m not a prize, I’m not something to be had.”

“Are you not? Something I’ve wanted. Something I’ve been denied, so,” he offered her a small smile, his lips parted just slightly, but the look was brimming with all manner of smugness and danger. “To the victor you'll go."

"But I don't want you!" she said, but she knew it was futile. There was a particular helplessness she felt in that moment, something that had her body wrought with tension and breath caught in her throat.

"Oh, I don’t care," he said, and his voice was airy, almost a laugh as if he were relieved that he didn't have to be civilized about taking what he wanted from her. “But don’t act like you haven’t thought of it before. Terrible, toe-curling, midnight thoughts—embarrassing ones.” Then he smiled wryly, “but it's terrifying when it’s real, huh?” 

She felt her face turning red because it was true. She had imagined him, right here in this very bed. This exact scenario—perhaps some nights it was a nightmare, but it was no less enticing in fiction form. 

His smile became excruciatingly smug. “And how am I in your fantasies?”  His fingers moved to her hip, sliding up under her t-shirt with a feathery gentleness. “Do I take my time with you? Kiss every inch of you and lick your cunt until you’re dripping like a faucet? Or…” he trailed off. 

She shivered, and a quiet whimper escaped her as he moved his knee to be on the other side of her thigh. Then his other hand was suddenly firm on her hip and he was flipping her over, leaning into her ear. “Or do I just flip you over and have you rough like a doe on the first day of spring?”

Always the second one. 

-------

To be continued....

[secret-whump-blog]

Underrated whump trope: when the team is trying to capture a scared and desperate villain whumpee “for their own good.”

[syncopein3d]

I love a character helping someone through something they've been through themselves. They know when a fevered person will need warmth most, when to be careful touching them, when a little neck rub will be mind-annihilatingly good and the only thing that lets them sleep.

They know the desperation of a new vampire's first thirst and are already prepared with a donor there, willing or mesmerized.

They know to keep a new werewolf contained their first nights so that they don't do something they'll regret their whole lives.

They know that when metahuman powers become unstable, what's most helpful isn't restraint, it's understanding and comfort, it's someone there who isn't afraid.

[bebx]

yeah yeah that famous quote that goes along the line of “if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die” but it’s the tireless AO3 writers who pull an all-nighter writing 100k words of fix-it fics where their favorite characters live

[becomingvecna]

X

[fern-writes-whump]

I wanna talk more about superpowers that come with side effects.

Give me telekinesis that causes migraines! Super strength that leaves the user bone tired and prone to narcolepsy! Fliers who need to be careful about pressure changes! Invulnerability that comes with numbness and loss of dexterity! Shape-shifting that hurts!

I want characters who need to be careful with their powers and face consequences when they over-exert themselves.

All of this was to say I want a character pushing their limits during a fight to then collapse as soon as the danger is out of the way <3

[delicatewhumps]

“you’re safe now.”

“you can rest now.”

“you’ve fought so hard.”

“you don’t have to fight anymore.”

“just sleep, okay?”

“i won’t let anything hurt you.”

“it’s over. it’s all over.”

“you don’t have to worry about anything right now.”

“shh, shh, i’ve got you. you’re safe here.”

“i know it was scary.”

“i know it hurts.”

“you’re all done hurting. there’s no more pain.”

“just focus on resting, okay?”

“you need to save your strength.”

“your job right now is to heal.”

“i’m getting you out of here.”

“i’m taking you home. we’re going home.”

“you’re safe in my arms. the hard part is over.”

[foundfamilywhump]

hand-shaped bruises. bracelets of finger imprints on wrists, branded on shoulders or throats or hips. the lack of plausible deniability. the way anyone seeing it can tell something Happened. someone who cares sees it and there’s no hiding the ongoing whump anymore. the photographs memorializing it. the moment a sleeve slips and a friend or coworker or roommate asks “whoa, what happened?”

just. the obviousness of it. the distinctness of it. hand-shaped bruises my beloved.

[untetheredsymphony]

Hey Whumpeteers! Cheerful reminder that the tattoo pain chart is applicable to most scratches, cuts or other open wounds! This chart doesn’t include bones damage or organ damage however, as it is for surface injuries.

My personal favourite is hip injuries, which various charts put in the red or orange zone 😉 Enjoy planning your whumpee’s pain with this!

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

literally me every single night

[shes-some-other-where]

There’s something about the moment when the up-till-then defiant protagonist—now bound, gagged, and defeated—accepts their fate.

The antagonist stands over them, crowing gleefully over their victory. Hissing lies or taunts into their ear. Reminding them of how woefully they’ve failed.

There’s something about the moment you see the shift in the protagonist’s eyes.

The moment their head dips, hangs low.

Defeated.

[withdrawingramen]

i think shame & its manifestations in whump is not talked about enough. like i love when whumpee is physically unable to tell caretaker about all they went through, not only because it is insanely distressing to relive but also because it's humiliating. 'how can someone be so cruel?' is another question, but we're also talking 'how did i let that happen to myself?' from whumpee's perspective. often times post something traumatizing whumpees develop this deep-seated feeling of hopelessness & helplessness & misguided anger which is just in sweet words not cool

because think about it, the whumpee could not stop anything from happening to them. there's always this notion of having to stand up for yourself, but whumpee didn't even get the chance to. who should you be angry at? whumper? the system? yourself?

the fact that it happened is so terribly real and if paired with the conditioning of whumper & possible victim blaming, the shame eventually turns into this twisted form of denial, where whumpee is unable to confront the fact that they were hurt so bad and it just turns into oh my god i hate that it happened to me. i want to erase that it all happened. i wish i could live just one day forgetting it all and wake up thinking what was i so stressed about? i wish i could walk past whumper and think 'who were they again'? nobody should know about this because i cant deal with it myself and i don't know what i'll do if it all goes out

yk what im talking abt?

[jordanstrophe]

I feel like I don't give exhaustion whump enough credit.

Whumpees still awake and aware of their surroundings, but can't do anything about it. They could be drained from lack of sleep, fighting back too hard for too long, running for hours and are in danger if they stop. 

When they finally get to rest, they don't move at all; not even to adjust if they've crumbled to a heap on the floor

[inkwell-and-dagger]

living weapon whumpees who, during the first few months of recovery with caretaker, are foreign to the concept of comfort‼️‼️‼️

have them flinching away from caretaker's soft touch because they believe they don't deserve it‼️‼️‼️

have a caretaker gently massage living weapon whumpee's shoulders, soothing words further adding to whumpee's overall confusion before they eventually lean into caretaker's warm touch‼️‼️‼️

have caretaker's soft words and hands holding whumpee's face snap them out of their conditioning after something / someone accidentally triggered them, startled at first before recognizing that, caretaker wasn't a threat, they were safe with them and that whumper wasn't here anymore ‼️‼️‼️

[bebx]

love the classic damsel in distress trope, but the damsel in question is a pathetic fictional man bleeding out in the dark somewhere on the floor before his ridiculously gorgeous knight comes for his rescue just when he’s about to pass out, and the ridiculously gorgeous knight in question is actually a deranged villain who is his archenemy. but they both have these frustratingly unresolved sexual tension going on where they both hate each other but are also super possessive and protective of each other in the sense that no one else can hurt this little guy but me!!!! and so the knight carries his pathetic damsel in his arms bridal style back to his goth castle where they have hot, kinky gay sex ever after (after he nurses his pathetic enemy’s ass back to health, of course, can’t risk bruising our fragile damsel when he’s already half dead).