#I’m Whumpee

[whump-it-like-its-hot]

Whumpee laying sprawled out on the couch, wheezing, coughing, teary eyed. Their skin is red and blotchy, and their chest aches with each breath. They look absolutely miserable.

Caretaker walks in, appalled at the sight. This same morning, Whumpee was absolutely fine! What the hell happened?

They approach Whumpee, immediately putting a hand up to their forehead to check for a fever, but Whumpee swats their hand away. Their voice is hoarse as they speak, but it’s just audible enough for Caretaker to understand the two, simple words they mutter, a weary smile on their lips.

“…spring cleaning.”

[goforro]

afab whumpee who gets horribly sick during their period

- stuffy nose! whumpee having to breathe exclusively through their mouth, which leads to…

- sore throat! absolutely awful because crying hurts!

- cramps! whumpee’s already taken the maximum daily amount of painkillers so they either have to stay in pain or risk overdose! whumpee having to beg whumper for painkillers!

- caretaker trying to help cool down a low grade fever and accidentally making whumpee shiver violently instead! THE GUILT!!

- (emeto warning) nausea! dry heaving over the toilet for hours! waking up vomiting!

- dehydration from sweating & crying! the back pain getting worse!!

- heating pads making fevers worse but being the only thing that works!

- craving food but not being able to keep anything down!

[whump-in-the-closet]

Five Types of Living Weapon Whumpees

The guard dog -> loyalty has been ingrained into their bones, following their handler around like their shadow. No one dares stand against the organization because of the legendary dread surrounding this living weapon. They hardly say a word but every movement is calculated, eyes always darting, always watching. (“You always were their lapdog.”)

The loose cannon -> dangerous for both sides. Always talking back and never predictable, their value is dependent on their skill. If it wasn’t for that, they’d be dead a long time ago. Their loyalty is earned, not bought. No one wants to be on their bad side, walking on tip toe whenever they show up. And they enjoy it. (“What’s everyone looking at? Aren’t you happy to see me? I even brought my rifle!”)

The broken down -> most common type of whumpee I’ve seen. They’ve been overpowered and forced into the commission. They hate their handler more than anything else but see no way out. When they’re told to shoot, they don’t even blink. It’s always “yes, sir” this and “yes, sir” that. If they feel any sympathy, they don’t show it. They’ll do anything to avoid punishment and flinch at quick movements. Nothing they face on the field is worse than the cards they’ve been dealt. (“I understand, sir/ ma’am. I-I’m sorry.”)

The dissenter -> Usually recruited into the organization or joined as a last ditch option. Not necessarily against using their abilities or skill, they just hate being told what to do. As time goes on and their disobedience is punished over and over again, they grow reluctant. Bitter. With every order, they slip in a snarky comment. Roll their eyes. Anything to assert their own identity. Or what’s left of it. (“ah ah ah, you didn’t think i’d notice? The middle finger was a bit much. I’m afraid it will have to go.”)

The ghost in the machine -> known only by their codename by outsiders and by their number in the organization, they’ve been stripped of all humanity. They live, breathe, and think by their handlers orders. They’ve been told over and over again that they are just a weapon. And a weapon does what it’s told. Their anonymity is attached to the organization in the same way a gun is simply an extension of their arm. But at night they still stare up at the ceiling with a blank stare— did they ever a life before this? They can’t remember. (“It’s not like it’s a person. It doesn’t have feelings like that.”)

[suspensefulpen]

Darling is such a powerful word to me

Imo you use that word for someone you are truly, deeply in love with. This person is your world, your everything, you can’t live without them.

On the other hand, you use that word for someone you’re extremely possessive of. You call someone that and they’re yours for all of eternity, whether they like it or not. No one else can have them because they’re yours if they know or not is completely irrelevant.

Now, imagine Whumpee being called that by both Caretaker and Whumper…

[a-class-attempter]

Caretaker circled Whumper, whom was tied to a chair, electrodes along their chest.

“Ple-” Whumper screamed, lighting surging through their body. When the shock ceased, they collapsed with a sob.

“What did I say about talking.” Caretaker growled. They grabbed Whumper by the jaw, forcing eye contact. “I wasn’t lying when I said I would die for Whumpee. And I wasn’t lying when I said I’d kill for them.” Caretaker squeezed Whumper’s jaw, their nails digging into their skin. “And you best believe I’d torture for them.”

[shywhumpauthor]

A Whumper with fire powers branding their Whumpee not just with their name or initials, but their handprints.

Two palms scarred against either side of Whumpee’s neck, fingers wrapping around their throat in a collar that can never be removed. Hands on their sides, just below their broken ribs, a touch that will never relent. Fingers wrapped around their wrists in shackles that won’t be unlocked. A handprint against their face, cupping their cheek that had already suffered so many punches. The small of their back. A single hand just between their shoulder blades. Dragging down their thighs.

Just. Branded handprints.

[letitbehurt]

Interrogation/torture scenes where Whumper is just as gentle as they are cruel.

Their voice is soft even as they slide a serrated knife beneath Whumpee’s skin, methodically drawing out screams. Between rounds, they crouch on their heels as if calming a scared child, tilting their head to peer underneath a sweaty curtain of hair.

They ask guilessly, as blood drips steadily from the knife in their hand, “Should we try this again?”

[the-dump-of-whump]

Weapon whumpee whose handlers are kind and supportive. They’re their caretakers, their friends. They’re a shoulder to lean on they keep them safe.

But weapon Whumpee still searches for greener pastures, ones where they’re more than a weapon.

So they switch sides, after all the other side has always been touted as being soooo good.

And then things get oh so much worse.

They’re still a weapon. But now their handlers hate them and how couldn’t they after all they’ve done. The new handlers are rough and cruel. They insist on retraining maybe even running tests and “questioning” them. Whumpee is now reduced to even less of a living being than they were before.

Whumpee’s only wish is to go back but how could they now that they’re a traitor.

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

Ok but— feigned compliance turning into real obedience

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee constantly felt miserable under the whumper- and while a lot of that was because of the constant torture and isolation, so much pain turned out to be a result from the constant cold in their cell. Even when the whumpee was left alone, that cold seeped into their bones, like a constant reminder of what was happening to them.

[whumpwordsoftheday]

“After a while it becomes a melody of sorts. The dripping of blood, the chattering of teeth, the soft crying, the high pitched screams. It all forms together into a warped orchestra that we play for your amusement.”

[goforro]

thinking about a whumpee that just…doesn’t cry.

- their friends haven’t ever seen them display sadness, disappointment, or anything like that. anger, maybe, but never tears.

- whumpee who doesn’t cry when they’re rescued. Maybe they’re staring blankly, maybe they’re biting their rescuers, maybe they’re just quietly appreciative. whatever it is, they don’t cry.

- whumpee who actively avoids conversations that might trigger them. they’ll get up and leave the room if whumper’s name is even whispered. does caretaker follow them? how do they find them?

- whumper *finally* breaking whumpee. maybe they taunt caretaker while whumpee’s still in captivity. maybe it’s while they’re being carried away in handcuffs.

- “I won, Caretaker. Your little firecracker cried for me.”

- caretaker being in shock. denial, even. whumpee *cried*? maybe they don’t believe whumper at first, until they look over at a hysterical whumpee.

just. UGHHH. best trope hands down

[whump-in-the-closet]

when whumpee is pinned against the wall. by their hands, by their throat, shoved against it by their shirt collar. Just…the choking, the clawing hands, the suffocated begging. and whumper leaning in too close for comfort. the terror, the sudden shot of panic in whumpee’s veins and the floor-dropping sensation of being trapped. when they feel more like an insect pinned to the wall than a human with whumper’s eyes studying them as if they were under a microscope. just…caught. not even like an animal in snare, just caught off guard and disoriented and wide eyed.

[suspensefulpen]

Not Again

TW: Kidnapping, Captive Whumpee, Chain Restraints

Whumpee pulled at the chain locked over their ankle. They’ve been trying since they woke up. They woke up in a basement alone. They weren’t sure where but something about it looked familiar — they couldn’t put their finger on it.

Obviously, someone kidnapped them and decided to throw them in a basement. But the question is, who would do that and why?

Even more so, why weren’t they dead yet?

Whumpee glanced around to find something sharp but came up empty handed. They sighed and went back to attempting to pull the chain from its base in the wall.

They instantly froze at the sound of footsteps over their head. Gently, they placed down the chain and listened. It wasn’t long before the steps stopped at a door that was far from Whumpee’s grasp. The locks moving filled the short silence before the door creaked open, revealing—

“Whumper?” They exhaled. A smile slowly appeared on their face. “I’m so glad you’re here! You can get me out of this. I’ve been trying for forever now. If you can just—”

They were silenced when he began to laugh.

Did they miss something? Or was this just an elaborate joke to scare Whumpee?

“No, no Whumpee.” He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “I am the reason you’re here.”

“What?” They rolled their eyes, a smile on their face. “Oh I get it. You’re mad about that— listen, it was a bad idea and I—”

“Oh I’m mad alright.” He descended down the stairs, coming closer. “But the reason is not what you think.”

Whumpee raised a brow. Whumper stopped in front of them, kneeling down to their level. He gently lifted their chin.

“You got away from me Whumpee.” His voice was low and gentle yet pained. “And you almost got hurt. I’m not letting that happen again. Because I’m never gonna let you go.”

[a-class-attempter]

Whumpee is captured and everyday, from exactly 7 pm to 8 pm, they are tortured. There are three different whumpers. One on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, one on Tuesdays and Thursdays and another on the weekends. There is a schedule to their torture:

Monday: waterboarded.

Tuesday: whipped.

Wednesday: electrocuted.

Thursday: beat.

Friday: burned.

Saturday: drugged (this is Whumpee’s least favorite, because the drugs were different each week).

Sunday: stress position.

Whumpee is somewhat grateful that, at least the torture is predictable. They can (try to) mentally prepare. But the dread of watching the clock tick to 7 pm is overbearing. They can never hope for a break. There has never been a break. All they can hope for is that, one day, that clock will shatter and they never have to see any of their whumpers again.

[whump-galaxy]

“Keep fighting. No matter what, keep fighting. Don’t let them change you.”