beatific-bruising - Tumblr blog

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open tag :3

Want to be whump characters with me?

Do this quiz. (Since some of the possibilities are not-so-nice, if you don’t jibe with your initial result, you’re welcome to retake it, I don’t care.)

Do this picrew, based on both your actual self and your role from the quiz

Tag people, or make it an open tag (or both)!

Open tag, anyone can join!

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Disassociation

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their name is beanie and they like spicy food

Picrew~

I made a Picrew~ I ill probably add more options over time but for now it has all the basic items I wanted from the base game, plus a few additional options~

If you want a pawpad colour separate from the paw lines, select the final paw lines option and head over to the body markings 2 section to select from a few different pad types.

Please note that because of Picrew's limitations, body/ear/hair markings have to be manually selected for the corresponding base choice you have made. If you find your markings are outside of the lines and didn't mean for this to happen, please double check the body base type (paws, mouse, or bunny)

The second set of face markings has the tears on an additional layer so they appear on top of the eyes.

For now, certain colours are linked to each other to simulate the game's limitations (while some options remain unlinked due to picrew limitations or otherwise). I might unlink them later~

Please feel free to inform me of any errors! And you're always free to submit your creations to this blog! I have added a Picrew tag (#picrew posts) to the submissions page for you to use (and for others to block~). I will always be happy to see them! You can submit or post to your blog and tag @tabe4 if you wish~

Terms of Use:

You can use the Picrew to make OCs for Tabe4 or in general

You cannot make monetary profit off of images made using the maker. This includes virtual currency that can be exchanged for money.

You can use the maker to inspire you for adopts, but DO NOT sell characters made with the maker without redesigning them in some way as others can easily recreate your character, even by accident.

You may edit, crop, or manipulate the images made with this maker for personal use, roleplay, or references, as long as you don't claim the art as your own, or "unknown"/"CTO"/etc.

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prompt idea that wont leave my mind: recovering pet whumpee having a Bad Day and needing to fall back into past conditioned behavior to feel safe and not break apart. but at the same time they are recovered enough that they still know caretaker isn’t their master and feel kind of embarrassed about it. but caretaker is supportive the entire time and reassures them that this changes nothing about their relationship.

Sandwiches

sorry for taking this prompt and furthering my 006 agenda. its a recovering living weapon whumpee not pet whumpee but i hope its ok

masterlist

content: living weapon whump, dehumanisation, rocky recovery, comfort, conditioned whumpee

Lindy knew it was a bad day when Ossie referred to them as sa’am. They knew it was a worse day when they found it sitting in the corner of the room, still as a statue.

“Ossie?” they tried softly, but it wouldn’t look at them.

“This one can’t,” it muttered. “This one can’t today, sa’am.”

“You can’t what?”

Ossie swallowed so hard that Lindy could hear it from across the room. “Be a person, sa’am. This one— I, I know—” It seemed to be really struggling mentally, trying to detangle its two personas from each other. Lindy stepped closer.

“It’s okay if you want to be 006 today,” they offered. “If that’d be easier.”

Ossie glanced up at them briefly before looking back at the floor. “Yes, sa’am. Thank you, sa’am.”

Lindy walked over and sat by it, their shoulders just barely touching. They didn’t want to overwhelm it with hugs and all those things Ossie associated with being a person. “But you know I’m not your handler anymore, yeah?”

“Yes, sa’am,” it droned, looking mortified. “This one… knows it’s not a weapon anymore.” That statement alone was huge, and it seemed to have taken a lot of effort.

“That’s good,” Lindy praised. “That’s very good. I’m happy you know that. It’ll be alright.”

Ossie stayed silent, as it so often did when it regressed to its days of being nothing but a tool. Tools didn’t talk, as it frequently reminded Lindy. Tools didn’t need to talk.

So they sat there in silence, with Lindy offering nothing much more than quiet solidarity. Ossie’s embarrassment slowly dissipated as it realised Lindy wouldn’t hold the situation against it, nor would they make it more humiliating than how it already must’ve felt.

“Wanna eat at the table with me?” Lindy asked after a while, but then immediately kicked themself as they saw Ossie open its mouth. “Right. Yes. No wants, I got it. Sorry. Let me try again; I’d like you to eat at the table with me, regardless of… everything.”

Ossie closed its mouth and nodded, and Lindy could’ve sworn they saw the shadow of a smile on its lips. They stood and extended a hand to it, smiling themself when it took it.

“Let me make us a couple sandwiches.”

~

tags: @whumpsday @floralmystic @whumps-and-bumps

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Can't think

(tw: lab whump, nonconsensual drugging, restraints, nonconsensual medical procedures, fourteen year old whumpee, mentions of torture.)

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He can't think.

He can't think and he doesn't know why.

They came in at dawn, when he and his roommates were fast asleep. (Well, Oliver probably wasn't.) The room was pitch black, save for the soft glow of Asa's skin.

They didn't give him time to wake up before plunging a needle into his neck. And then, when he did awaken only seconds later, it was already too late. Asa could only blink at them sluggishly as they picked him up and deposited him in a wheelchair.

And now he's moving, far too fast and far too slow all at once. The walls blur into the floor. The world spins. Nausea licks at his throat, and yet he can’t muster up the energy to say anything in complaint.

His head lolls down to his chest.

He can’t think. God, why can’t he think?

Vaguely, he knows that he’s headed to the lab. He knows that they’re going to hurt him. He should be afraid. But he’s lost in a place where the fear can’t find him. And all that’s left is an overbearing sense of calm, an inability to do anything but sink into his mind and allow his body to be carried away. It’s peaceful, in the same way that a room full of corpses is quiet.

They arrive quicker than Asa expected they would. (Even though the ride over seemed to have lasted an eternity.) The hum of the fluorescent lights and the murmurs of scientists blur in the background of his mind, and he finds himself drifting off to sleep. At least, until a familiar voice cuts through the quiet like a knife.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, I know it’s early, but the quicker we do this, the quicker we can be done with it. Are ya with me?” Hamlin chirps, somehow as energetic as ever despite being up before sunrise. The rest of the scientists offer a chorus of unenthused agreement. It seems that Asa isn’t the only one who’d rather be in bed.

The doctor chats with a couple assistants, making her rounds about the lab, before finally turning her attention to Asa, as he knew she would.

“Good morning, Asa! Sorry about waking you so early, but I promise you’ll get to go back to sleep soon.” She gingerly brushes Asa’s bangs from his face, and while Asa would normally bristle at the touch, now he can’t bring himself to even care. He eyes Hamlin intently, as if staring at her might give him the strength to be angry. It doesn’t. 

Hamlin says something else that Asa doesn't quite catch, and then he's being lifted. The sudden motion makes him want to vomit, but it only lasts a few seconds before he's lying on the lab table. He doesn't fight as they strap him down, not that he could stop them even if he weren't drugged out of his mind. All he can manage is a frustrated growl, one that gets Hamlin's attention. 

"I know, the side effects of that sedative are pretty strong, but it's the only one that works well enough against your Light. We don't want you waking up during surgery, do we?" She explains, methodically sliding into latex gloves and goggles as she does so. 

So it's surgery, then.

Amidst the murky haze of drugs, Asa feels a spike of fear at that. He swallows thickly, searching for his voice.

“H… H’mlin?" He mumbles, trying to ignore how big his tongue feels in his mouth. Hamlin's eyebrows raise.

"Oh, you can still speak? Huh, that's not particularly good. Might have to adjust the dosage…"

Asa speaks up again before she can finish the thought, "What are you g'na do t'me?"

It's a normal question, one that he asks every time he gets dragged to the lab. Usually Hamlin will grace him with a detailed explanation of exactly how she plans to study him for the next few hours. Be it a simple blood test or an appendectomy, she always tells him with a smile. But today, she just shakes her head.

"It's probably better if you don't know. We don't want you to freak out, do we?" She replies, punctuating her sentence with another ruffle to Asa’s hair.

Asa’s stomach falls, "Oh."

"Oh? That's it?” Hamlin laughs, “Damn, you're much nicer to work with like this. I wish I could keep you sedated all the time."

If he were more aware, Asa probably would have flinched at the implications of that. But exhaustion smothers his brain, derailing his train of thought 

"I…" Asa mumbles, eyes drooping. "M'tired…"

Hamlin smirks, "I'm sure you are. Feel free to go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll get the actual anesthesia started in the meantime." She runs her hand along the side of his face, caressing his cheek like a mother would. As if she didn't cut him open without anesthesia a hundred times before now.

"O...okay…" Asa says, inadvertently leaning into her touch. He doesn't even notice as an iv is inserted into his arm.

"Say, Asa, do you have a favorite food? Something you want me to bring you while you're in recovery?" She asks. Her hand never leaving his cheek.

Asa thinks for a moment, landing on the first food that comes to mind. "...doughnuts."

"Doughnuts?" Hamlin laughs, "Well, it's not exactly healthy, but I suppose you can have a doughnut, for being such a good boy."

Beside her, an assistant scoffs.

"Of course he's being good, he's drugged out of his mind." He says, rubbing the healing wound on his arm from when Asa bit him a couple days ago.

Hamlin glares, finally removing her hand from Asa’s face. "Hm yeah, good point, Ted. Counterpoint: who asked you?"

The two bicker amongst themselves, while the rest of the assistants continue to prep Asa for surgery. All the while Asa's eyes scan the trays of scalpels and tweezers, gleaming in the too-bright artificial light of the lab. Fear is radiating and muted, muffled but there all the same. 

"H-H'mlin…" 

The scientist turns to face him, "Hm- yes, Asa?"

"I… m'scared…" He whispers, consciousness fleeting. "Pl'se don't… 'lease don't 'urt me…"

His voice breaks, tears threatening to fall. Hamlin clicks her tongue, wiping his eyes.

"Aww, don't worry, sweetheart. I promise you won't feel a thing. And you'll get to have a nice relaxing vacation while you recover. Sound good?"

"N-no…"

Hamlin smirks. "Too bad."

It's then that the drugs in his iv finally take hold. The world fades to darkness, and all the while Hamlin stares at him, smiling wide.

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Could you possibly do Legend and Warriors, whump? I love making those two suffer for some reason. (Your art is amazing, and I love it!)

awwweee!! Thank you @insane-twilight-fan and Anon for these requests💙💙 I friggen loooove this duo, especially if it's Legend getting whumped >:3

CW! Blood/coughing up blood

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[haikaveh🌱🏛] love a little kidnap and rescue :3c

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A whumpee that comes with an owner’s manual.

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a imprisoned (possibly feral?) whumpee having a panic attack after waking up in the cell. Thrashing around in a blind panic, maybe hitting their head if in a tiny space. Maybe screaming for help. Caretaker finally being allowed to come in and calm them down.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re okay, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. J-just breathe for me for a second, okay?”

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We need more vain/egotistical whumpees, please

Whumpees who won't allow anyone to see them cry, no matter how much they need the support, they can't take any more blows to their ego

Whumpees who refuse pain medication because they think it makes them look weak

Whumpees who act mean or cold to those who try to help them because it's the only thing that keeps others away from them

Whumpees that are encouraged to ask for help, but think that others would be impressed if they didn't ever need it

Whumpees that cannot, under any circumstance, allow others to know what has happened to them, even if it allows Whumper to get away with it, because what would the others think of me if they knew how weak and helpless I was? Or that it actually left a lasting impact on me?

Whumpees who obsessively cover up their scars with makeup

Whumpees who isolate themselves whenever the people around them get too 'invasive' by asking basic questions about Whumpee's mental state

Whumpees who are offended at the mere mention that they may have actually been traumatized, because they're too strong/tough/resilient for anything to actually affect them, and claiming anything else amounts to a personal insult

Whumpees who will not tell anyone if they're sick or injured because they don't want anyone to see them hurting, until they collapse and have to be dragged to a doctor

Whumpees who think that they're better than others because they were strong enough to survive nevermind the debilitating trauma

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im kind of interested, as a person in the whump community under the age of 18, what percentage of this community is under 18. i see a lot of whump blogs that say minors DNI, which is a struggle for me since i literally thrive off reading whump. is it weird for me to enjoy whump since im underage and the topics we write about are typically quite fucking disgusting?

pls reblog, just because it helps with the purpose of the poll <3

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i shan’t say it

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Your sad, covered-in-blood whumpee fucking bit me.

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Hey, dominate person is a pretty fucked up spell, ain't it?

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when you think about the scenes where a character is almost dying or delirious, and they call weakly for their love interest, i just think it would hit harder if they called for their mom instead. imagine the vulnerability.

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In a classic fantasy war of good vs evil, the "good" side captures an enemy general after a particularly bloody battle.

They know they won't be able to get any information from him, and they're far from home, making it unreasonable to have him sent back as a prisoner of war.

Instead, they elect to use him as a source of morale; an ongoing demonstration of how easily the dark side falls when faced with the overwhelming power of the light.

The captured general's legs are broken so he can't run. He's under constant guard so he can't scheme.

And at night, the soldiers are told they can come and go as they like, using him however they please.

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Ace vibe of the evening: why would anyone have sex when vivisection is right there