#confessions of a whumper

[spiderjay]

@wonderwhump

I just thought about your post about female Whump... I feel you, female Whump just doesn't work for me either. Though there's really good female Whump out there 🙈Being a Whumper is so strange 😁

Also this: My best friend finally got me into watching this german dramedy show with this cute guy, who's posing as a Priest.

Me: Meh, it's fine, yeah the show is fine 😏... normally I don't like these kind of german shows... 😌 Alright, let's watch another episode because you like it so much... 🙄

THEN one tiny little scene with Whump appears in it and I'm like: 😍😍😍

OKAY, GIVE ME MORE! 🤪 🤣 No, no, the show is not so bad at all. 😁

*Googles the Filmography of the actor immediately* 😂😂😂

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Heretic's Confession, Chapter One

CW: Captivity whump, some... implications... references to branding. This is just me getting a feel for the idea and character, though, really.

-

The robes he once kept pristine are caked in dried mud around the hem. Grigory frowns as he inspects them, rubbing along the seam. It flakes away, leaving imprints of itself behind. 

Maudlin, certainly, but it feels like the stain of their sins painting his soul.

Maybe suffering can give even a man of the Goddess the sentiment of a poet. His lip curls in disgust at the very thought.

Please, please speak to me, Dromada. Tell your priest what he must do to escape this nightmare.

She is, and has always been, silent to his pleas for Her assistance. 

The Goddess the people worship may be a paragon of compassion and forgiveness, her sculptures solemn and grave with hands outstretched to embrace even the lowest-born of Her children, but Grigori is beginning to suspect the holy men have got it wrong. 

She isn't gracefully wise. She does not reach Her hand out to hold Her children. No, as each day passes without Her so much as whispering a reassurance, he begins to feel She is th goddess of laughter, and he is Her current favorite joke.

A knock at the door to his room - his cell, really, but of course they all like to pride themselves on keeping him in high style in his gilded cage - has him looking up, a little startled. The moon has only made half of its trek across the night sky, through the looping swirls of galaxies far, far beyond the reach of mere mortal men. That milky spin of stars, everyone knows, is where the gods live.

He wonders how many of them are looking down on him, sipping crystalline waters, and mocking his pain.

He would spit on every last temple step, if he could.

If he could just leave the fucking room-

“Brother Grigori,” His guest singsongs, half-dancing into the room. Grigory turns away from him, laying one palm over one of the iron bars that blocks any escape through the window. His fingers close slowly around it. 

“What do you want.” His voice is curt, it cuts short and sharp. “Bastard.”

“Oh, see you got my name all wrong again.” The leader of this little gang is tall - too tall - and all knees and legs, lean muscle making him heavier than he looks. Grigori is tall enough for a man, but he seems like he’s half-grown, compared to the bandit. The man’s hair is a shock of white atop his head, shaved on the sides, while Grigori’s curly brown grows to the bottom of his ears, as is prescribed for the priests. He swaths himself in black kohl around his equally dark eyes and shining black leather worn back to brown from age and ill-use at the knees and elbows. Grigori’s hazel and his dirtied robes look like a joke, placed next to the bandit’s appearance.  “It’s Bohli, remember? Or that’s what my mother calls me, anyway. Or she would, if she were still alive. She probably uses that when she curses my name from the heavens above, granted. I mean, probably, unless she really is suffering in the Dark After, like she deserves-”

“What do you want, Bohli?” Grigory’s head is already starting to hurt. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Nonsense. You have all the time in the world. You have nothing but time.”

“Not for… you. Please leave.”

“Nope. Not going anywhere. This is my house, remember? I just let you stay here.”

“Let me.” The words are sour in Grigori’s mouth. “Right, of course. Let me. Because I asked to be branded and trapped here in this room-”

“Hush. I take you for walkies every day, little god’s dog.” Bohli winks, and Grigori - who took a vow of pacifism, once - imagines stabbing his own knife through his eyeball until it comes out the other side of his head. “If you don’t want a leash, you just have to prove you won’t run off.”

He would, of course. Run. Outside, the woods stretch far and wide. There’s a path he could take to find a village, to find freedom...

Or… more realistically… to get arrested for being in league with Bohli and his bastards, which he isn’t, but everyone knows the goddess would save Her most faithful, and he’s been here too long. He would be branded a heretic. Everyone knows he’s a heretic. His own fellow priests would turn their backs on him. The people would burn him at the stake, for being defiled, degraded, a paragon of nothing but the filth they have covered him in. Little more than a bandit himself. 

Maybe he is one.

Dromada would have saved him if he were truly Hers to save. And instead, here he is, the infamous giver of absolution to the men and women who massacre whole towns in defiance of - in direct insult to - the power and might of His Majesty, the King.

No. he would be burned as an enemy of the King's, and he would have no standing to defend himself. A captive this long isn't a captive at all, in the eyes of the world.

Just a man who no longer wants to be saved.

Tears prick at his eyes, and he struggles not to let Bohli see them and mock him even more. It’s not like he hasn’t already been marked. It was one of the first things they did. Bohli had given the order and watched while they tied him down. Grigori himself had been made to look as they put the iron in the fire, made to watch them heat it to red. Bohli had been whispering in his ear when when they pressed it to his pelvis, and Bohli had cooed over him while he screamed, stroking through his sweaty hair.

“Just leave,” He whispers, the area aching all over again. They branded him over the symbol of Dromada tattooed, a mark of his vow of chastity.

Another one broken.

Maybe that was when She stopped listening.

“Oh, but I can’t, darling Grigori. I’ve come to make a confession.” Bohli laughs, and his laughter could make you bleed even better than his blade. But somehow Grigori can’t seem to die from the loss. “Isn’t that why I keep a priest of Dromada around, anyway? For to save my poor mortal soul?”

Grigori fights the urge to wish aloud someone would poison the asshole’s food. “You would burn if you touched the Hem of her robe.”

“Maybe.” Bohli shrugs, kicking a chair over and dropping down into it, loose-limbed. His eyes spark with delight as he takes in Grigori’s misery. “But you wear Her robes, and yet I never burn when I touch you-”

“Speak your confession,” Grigory snaps, his heart twisting and going briefly silent and still in his chest. He feels blood rush to his face, and Bohli’s peal of bright, brittle laughter tells him the flush isn’t going unnoticed. 

“Say it.” Bohli watches him, and it’s like being watched by one of the terrifying big cats that roam the woods just beyond this hideous prison. Unblinking, a predator’s stare. “Say the words, priest.”

Each time he does, they feel more bitter on his tongue. 

But still.

Grigori draws the ruins of his robe closer around himself, and sits up straight. He swallows and sets his jaw. “Bohlinde hir Maksma en Ygridsen, the goddess Dromada hears and forgives all from those who love Her. You have only to ask. Speak, child, and be forgiven.”

Bohli licks his lips, leaning forwards. Somehow, Grigori can’t make himself look away. The bandit leader’s teeth are sharp - those canines can rend skin from bone. He’s part-elf, they say, somewhere in his bloodline the half-mindless shrieking hordes of the elven race lurk. You can always tell, so it’s said, from the sharpness of their teeth. From how little they care for the lives of men.

Maybe he’s half-elf.

It would explain why he’s so fucking smug.

“Forgive me, Dromada’s Chosen, for I have sinned against Her,” Bohli says, and he doesn’t even try to feign sincerity. Why he even plays this game, when Dromada isn’t a goddess for the elves of their wretched offspring to begin with, is beyond Grigori’s understanding.

Grigori fights the urge to sigh. He makes Dromada’s Sign, wondering if it even calls to Her any longer. If She even feels the spark of a follower’s call, or if he’s cut off from Her entirely. Who hears him when he prays?

Does anyone?

“How have you sinned against Our Mother, She Who Gave the Waters?” 

Bohli licks his lips. His smile is a little too wide, shows too many of those sharp, sharp teeth. He'd be blisteringly handsome, if it weren’t for the sight of fangs where none should be. “I won’t lie, Brother Grigori. I set some stuff on fire yesterday. And I’m going to do it again. Will I be forgiven?”

Grigori imagines the mud climbing higher and higher up his robes, pulling him into the earth, forcing itself down his mouth and pressing over his eyes. He imagines the gods in the sky, looking down from their stars.

The image shatters with the memory of first sitting at the table with the dozen or so of Bohli's favorites, each of them smiling at him, while he sat in his pure white robes and felt himself bared, as if naked, before them.

Until Bohli had given the order for what to do with him.

“Dromada forgives all who seek Her,” Grigori intones, thoughtless. The words memorized before he was even thirteen years old, before he was old enough to take his vows. Before he was taken, and they were all broken, one by one. Bohli loved breaking Grigori's vows. “You have only to ask.”

“Good.” Bohli’s voice drops low. He has to focus to hear it, which is probably the bastard’s entire point. “Because I really, really love asking, and I love the sound of your answers.”

The bandit stands, walking over to him, putting one finger under his chin and forcing Grigori to look up - and up, and up, and up - to see the demon smile.

Grigori is sure, as Bohli watches him with his head tipped to the side and his black eyes as bright as the stars, that he can hear the goddess laughing.

[victimeyez]

The Confession Game

I love a good sadistic game – especially when It’s unfair :) 

I wrote a piece a few years ago with a whumper and a captive whumpee playing a game I called The Confession Game. Thinking about it recently, I realized it could be a fun game to play with some current characters, and could go a lot of different ways for different pairings (or groups). I think it could be a fun prompt! If you play the game with yours, please tag me so I can read it!

Whumpee is typically bound and/or in a vulnerable position. They don’t have to be, but it works well for physical punishments throughout the game. Or even some “rewards”.

The whumper explains the rules to the whumpee. 

Rules for The Confession Game

–The whumpee has to make “confessions” to the whumper. Confessions are secrets the whumpee has to offer.

– Confessions have to be all new information – things the whumper did not previously know. 

– Confessions can’t be boring, they need to be confessions to bad behavior or offerings of embarrassing secrets. 

– If the confession is interesting to the whumper, the whumpee gets a reward. In the original story, he was food restricted, and his reward was being handfed little pieces of chocolate. Rewards can be as lavish or as little as you want - hours of sleep, tidbits of information the whumpee needs, time in a heated or cooled place, articles of clothing, whatever works!

– If the confession is already something the whumper knows, they get a punishment. 

– If the confession doesn’t divulge something new and juicy enough, they get a punishment. This forces the whumpee to walk a very fine line of divulging secrets bad enough to keep whumper’s attention, but not so bad as to piss the whumper off and get them in real trouble. Depending on the whumper, they might be more lenient than usual since the whumpee is “confessing” to them. On the flipside, it could be downright impossible to confess something that the whumper would accept as a confession without them flying into a rage. 

– If the whumper already knows the information or feels they could have guessed it, punishment. This could be an exciting way to reveal that a whumper knows something that whumpee thought was a secret they still held. Either because they offer the information and whumper tells them they know, or because whumper catches them trying to lie. All confessions are supposed to be personal and honest.

– If the whumpee does not answer fast enough, they get a punishment. A time limit can be set for them to answer, but typically something short, like 30 seconds or a minute. Or maybe it’s just to the whumper’s whims! Trying to think of something that walks the fine line when under the pressure of a time limit can make the whumpee blurt out things they shouldn’t, or completely freeze and run out of time.

– Punishments can be whatever you want them to be - lashes with a cane or whip, cuts, time in a stress position, meals they lose, staples or nails they take, days in sensory deprivation or strict bondage, articles of clothing they lose, fingers broken, burns they get, just remember to have fun and be yourself kids!

This can be good “bonding” time, and can be an opportunity to dig into backstories.

Happy Whumping!

[marvel-ous-whump]

Whumpee and Caretaker have been friends for years, both secretly in love with and pining for the other. Whumpee gets taken by Whumper, then rescued and while in the hospital, loopy on painkillers and half-asleep. they tell Caretaker that they love them. Caretaker is surprised, but doesn't believe it because Whumpee

- is on *all* the Painkillers. - has been through massive trauma - Is half-asleep when they say it.

So when Whumpee wakes up properly and doesn't seem to remember the confession, Caretaker doesn't bring it up. Until like six months later, Whumpee says it again, wide awake, completely lucid and having been to a few therapy sessions. And Caretaker finally says it back

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 3.

Set up for failure - Fingerprints - Wrongfully Arrested - "I warned you"

Whumper drug Whumpee through the halls to the interrogation room by a chain clipped to their identification collar.

"Stop fighting me", Whumper yelled in frustration, "I warned you already."

"Sorry... can't breath", Whumpee winced as they tried to catch up to Whumper's long strides.

Whumpee finally fell to the ground.

"Please sir, I ca-can't keep up with you", Whumpee gasped for air, "have mercy, I don't know what I did to make you mad, but please, have mercy."

"Get up", Whumper commanded, "it's what you didn't do."

Whumpee quickly stood, "sir, what didn't I do?", Whumpee almost pleaded, "wait, please."

"Shut up. You are not to say another word until we are in the interrogation room", Whumper yelled.

"Interrogation?", Whumpee gulped, "please no, anything but interrogation."

Whumper backhanded Whumpee, "what did I just say?"

Whumpee shook in fear as they followed Whumper into one of the rooms for interrogation.

"Sit over their and don't move", Whumper pointed.

Whumpee quickly obeyed. They watched Whumper leave. Chills ran down their spine as the door was locked.

"What.... what didn't I do?", they whispered, "I was", they thought, "I was obedient, my manners, everything", Whumpee looked around the room, "I-I don't want to be interrogated."

Interrogation meant Whumper was going to torture them until they confessed to what they had done to deserve this. Then they would receive their punishment for their crime.

The worst part was the wait.

Whumper would leave them in this room for hours as the torture was planned out. The anticipation was enough to drive someone mad.

Whumpee hugged their knees to their chest, "what did I do?"

"Sir, may I have a word", one of Whumper's guards interrupted.

Whumper sighed, "I guess."

Whumper glared at the bloody, beaten Whumpee as they walked past to speak to the guard.

"This will give you time to really think about what you did", Whumper spat, "I'll expect an answer when I return."

Whumpee kept their eyes to the ground. Their body shook as it tried to hold itself up.

'I don't know if I can keep up much longer', Whumpee thought to themself, "I don't know what I.... did."

Whumpee almost blacked out from the pain.

Whumper stepped outside with the guard.

"I'm busy, can't you tell. This better be important", Whumper frowned.

"Sir, you grabbed the wrong prisoner", the guard said apologetically, "we had Whumpee out in the hall to stretch their legs. A reward for good behavior. You grabbed them instead of grabbing Prisoner D from solitary confinement."

"You are just now figuring this out. I've been going for almost two hours on them", Whumper screamed, "no wonder they have no idea what I'm talking about."

Whumper frowned, "get me the correct prisoner, and tell Medic what happened. They're going to need medical attention after this."

"Yes sir I apologize", the guard quickly ran to follow the orders.

Whumper groaned as they opened the door to the interrogation room.

Whumpee looked up weakly.

"Please, I can't take anymore. Please tell me what I did so I can learn. Please have mercy on me, I can't...", Whumpee felt their body slump into the restraints. They cried out at this added pressure to their sore muscles.

Whumper quickly lifted them up and undid the restraints.

They cradled Whumpee in their arms and lowered themself to the floor.

"Whumpee, there has been a big mistake made, and I am so sorry it was not found out until just now. You were grabbed by mistake, someone else was supposed to be here, not you", Whumper gently stroked Whumpee's head.

Whumpee shook in fear but had no strength left to try to fight out of Whumper's hands.

"I'm going.... going to pass o-", Whumpee's body went limp.

Whumper sighed as they got up to carry Whumpee to the medical wing.

Whumpee weakly squinted at the soft light that was suddenly turned on.

"Hmmmp, what's happening?", Whumpee whispered.

"Oh good, we were beginning to wonder if you'd wake up", someone said in a happy voice, "Whumper did quite a number on you."

Whumpee weakly looked around, "where am I?"

"You are in Whumper's living quarters", someone now stood by where Whumpee lay, "after you left Medic, Whumper wanted to make sure you were in good hands still, so he brought you up here. He asked me to take care of you. Would you like some water, you've been unconscious for a few days."

Whumpee nodded weakly, "how long... have I been unconscious."

"A few days", she repeated and helped Whumpee sit up.

Whumpee gasped in pain until the person had pillows propping them up just right."

"My name is MarMar", the person smiled as she helped Whumpee drink from a cup, "I can imagine your hungry as well. Whumper said anything you want, you get. He feels awful for what happened."

Whumpee looked down, "I am a little hungry, but I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not a bother at all, I'll be back with some food", MarMar set the cup down and left the room.

Whumpee weakly reached for the cup. A pain went through their arm, causing the cup to slip from their fingers just as the door opened.

Whumper stepped in and eyed the small bit of water now on the floor.

Whumpee panicked, "no no no, please sir forgive me", they started to climb out of the bed to clean it. "I'm so sorry."

"No please don't get out of bed, it's okay", Whumper stepped closer to them, "just some water, no big deal."

Whumpee couldn't hide how visibly shaken they were to be in Whumper's presence.

"MarMar said you just woke up, I just came in to check on you", Whumper sat down beside the bed, "are you feeling okay?"

"It-it hurts sir, everything hurts", Whumpee whispered, "but I'll be okay."

"I feel terrible that this happened to you, I honestly didn't even know who you were. You never seem to cause any issues. Your name has never come across my desk. The person who I was supposed to take to interrogation is a new face here, so it was a bit of a mixup and lack of communication. Though that is not a good excuse at all for what happened", Whumper watched Whumpee's breathing hitch, "I would like to make it up to you, I'm not sure how yet."

Whumpee listened, "please, you don't have to worry about it", Whumpee winced as more pain went through their arm, "it was an honest mistake."

Whumper watched Whumpee rub their arm.

"I think it's only fair. I ended up looking for your file after this incident. You haven't had to receive any correctional beatings or anything. We couldn't even find your record though. I have no idea what you are in for", Whumper sighed, "they think it was destroyed accidentally. We are looking into it."

"Prisoner of war", Whumpee whispered.

Whumper's heart skipped, "I-I'm not supposed to have any POWS in my prison... they were all released, and records des...troyed."

"Yes sir, I was overlooked", Whumpee winced.

"Why didn't you say anything?", Whumper stood, "everyone from your group was freed a while ago."

"I was going to, then I heard my country was destroyed... I didn't know what to do.... where to go", Whumpee looked down, "my family died with my country. What would you have done?"

Whumper frowned, "I need to think about what to do with you. You can't remain a prisoner", Whumper frowned, "that's not fair to you, but I don't think they are doing the processing anymore to help you settle into this country."

Whumpee frowned, "I'm sorry... I'm afraid I've caused more trouble then what I'm worth."

"It's not your fault that you were overlooked. I just wish you had said something a little sooner. I can't just throw you in the street either", Whumper thought out loud, "you won't be able to fend for yourself, and you're not technically a legal citizen. "

"I'm sorry", Whumpee tried to hide a tear.

"No need to cry", Whumper reached for a napkin, "I'll figure it out. MarMar should be coming back with a meal for you shortly."

Just then MarMar brought in the food tray.

"I'll be back to check on you", Whumper started to leave.

"I'm sorry sir", Whumpee watched them.

"It's okay, just get some rest. You are very injured", Whumper made a slight grin, "I'm sorry about that."

MarMar entered Whumper's office.

"What do you want Mar?", Whumper didn't bother looking up.

"Whumpee told me what happened. Why don't you let them live up here in your quarters. You have plenty of rooms. I could use some help cleaning it even", Mar stood in front of the desk, "you did that for me."

"You were a different case. You did something wrong, and you were brought here. They didn't realize you were female or didn't care at least, and I run a male prison. They refused to come and get you. That's why you serve your imprisonment up here", Whumper sat back in his chair, "Whumpee was supposed to be free a year or so ago. They didn't do anything wrong. They just happened to be on the enemy side during the war. Government allowed those prisoners freedom with assistance because their country was destroyed. Just as I feared, that program is no longer available."

"If I may be so bold... that was the first mistake your prison has made in Whumpee's case. Now look at them", MarMar prodded, "you left them unconscious for several days after that. You owe them something. They aren't supposed to be here, but neither was I, and you figured that out."

"You know I'm not above putting you in solitary for being outspoken", Whumper grumbled.

"Who would keep you company then?", MarMar grinned.

"I'll buy a puppy", Whumper replied with a grin.

MarMar talked with Whumpee for a while before Whumper came in.

"Excuse me, I have a few things to take care of before bed", MarMar got up.

"Whumpee I think I figured out what to do with you", Whumper sat down, "Mar gave me the idea... how would you feel about living here in my living quarters. You wouldn't have to do service work like Mar does, but you could help out if you like. I can't leave you as a prisoner, and I can't let you leave. Both would be illegal."

Whumpee looked at Whumper in shock.

"I know you said your family was probably no longer around. We could work at getting you legally in this country and if you wanted to leave after that, you can. I need to make up for what I did to you and also that my prison overlooked you."

"I'd be bothering you though, and MarMar", Whumpee looked at their arm and rubbed it.

"What is going on with your arm?", Whumper watched them rub it, "thats the second time you've rubbed it in my presence."

"I keep having sharp pains go through it", Whumpee whispered.

"I'll let the doctor know, they'll check on you in the morning. If it gets really bad during the night let someone know", Whumper stood up, "the Medic is gone for tonight, but I can pull a few strings if you need to be seen. Think about my offer."

Whumpee nodded.

The next morning Whumpee woke up when they heard a door slam.

Mar came into the room with a grin.

"Is Whumper angry?", Whumpee made a concerned look, "that door being slammed startled me."

"It was Whumper, he slams it as he goes into the prison. He says it spooks the guards", MarMar giggled.

"Oh, I see", Whumpee nodded.

"I'm working on your breakfast right now", MarMar knelt by the bed, "did you think about Whumper's offer?"

"A little, I feel like I'll be in the way up here, but I don't think I have other options", Whumpee watched MarMar for a bit.

"You won't be in the way", MarMar comforted, "it's really nice up here. Oh, the medic will be up to check on you after breakfast. I hope your arm is okay."

Whumper came in and sat next to Whumpee.

They eyed Whumpee's arm, which was lifted in a sling and wrapped in a cast.

Whumpee looked at it then at Whumper.

"I broke it", Whumpee whispered.

"No I broke it", Whumper sighed, "I am so sorry."

"It's okay", Whumpee smiled weakly.

Whumper leaned back in the seat, "no it really isn't. I don't normally go that far with anyone, I have no idea why I got so mad. It keeps rolling over in my head, and I can't even explain why I did this. I don't even know how to make it up to you. Everything was messed up for you."

"Just unlucky, I've always been unlucky", Whumpee tried to laugh, but winced when a sharp pain went through their abdomen, "oww."

Whumper watched them, "I am so sorry Whumpee, uhm, have you thought about my invitation to stay here. We can set up a better bedroom for you. You can heal, and we can work on getting you to be recognized as a citizen. Plus work on some other things that you may need."

"Yes, I thought about it. MarMar also helped me. If you are okay with it, and I promise not to be a bother. I can stay with you", Whumpee looked for any movements in Whumper that showed they were dissatisfied with that answer.

"That's great", Whumper only smiled, "I was a little nervous about your choice. I promise everything will be alright. We'll get you to feeling better."

"Th-thankyou", Whumpee looked at them flabbergasted at how Whumper's personality was completely different from the other day.

"You're welcome, alright, MarMar and I will get your bedroom ready. You'll be so comfortable", Whumper hurried to get up and to the door.

"Mar you owe me $5, they said yes", Whumper yelled as they left the room.

"Dang", MarMar called back with sarcasm in their voice, "wait I helped talk them into it."

Whumpee listened to the two of them go back and forth.

"What just happened, and who is that?", Whumpee questioned in a whisper.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 1/3

This list contains ~290 items listed A to H

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing as it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This list's intention is not to glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This part one-of-three comprehensive lists of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[I-Q] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

#

"I don't need your help."

"I'm doing this to make you better"

"I'm fine, take care of them!"

“I’m Fine”

"Kill me instead"

"Let me in."

"Look at me."

"Should I know you?"

"Take me instead."

(No) Anaesthetic

A

A Good Ol' Sickfic

Abandoned

Abdominal Pain

Aching Wounds

Acne

Adrenaline Crash

Adrift (in space/at sea)

Agoraphobia

Airsickness

Alien abduction

Allergies

Alopecia

Ambulance Ride

Ambush

Amnesia/memory loss

Amputations

Anaemia

Anesthesia

Angina (Heart condition that causes pain)

Animal Attack/Bite

Ankle Sprain

Anthrax

Anxiety/Anxiety attack(s)

Aphasia

Appendicitis

Arrested

Arthritis

Asking for help

Asphyxiation

Assumed Dead

Asthma/Asthma Attack

Auctions

Autoimmune disease

Avalanches

B

Backache

Bad Caretakers

Bandaged Head

Banished

Barbed Wire

Bear trap

Beaten up by ex-friends

Beaten with blunt object (i.e, bat or pipe)

Beatings

Bedrest

Bedside Vigil/Hospital Vigil

Begging

Betrayed by close friend/team/family

Bites (Animal, Bug, Human….)

Biting

Black Eye

Blackmail

Bleeding Out

Bleeding Through

Bandages

Blindfolded

Blindness (this could be temporary or permanent)

Blisters

Blood Loss

Blood Poisoning

Bloodied Knuckles

Bloodstains/blood trail

Bloody handprints

Bloody nose

Blunt force trauma

Blurred vision

Body modification

Body Sharing

Body Switching

Bounty on their head

Brain Damage

Brainwashing

Breakdowns

Breathless

Bridal Carry

Broken Bones (Ribs, Arm, Leg)

Broken Nose

Broken Promises

Bronchitis

Bruises

Building Collapse

Bullet Removal

Bumpy roads jarring injuries

Buried Alive

Burning Building

Burns/Scalding

Busted kneecap

C

Cancer

Caning

Capgras syndrome/delusion (belief that someone close to/important to the person has been replaced by an imposter)

Capsulitis

Captivity

Captured

Car chases (and maybe a car crash)

Carbon monoxide poisoning

Cardiac Arrest

Caretaker has to “play nice” with whumper.

Caretaker has to hurt whumpee while undercover.

Caretaker sacrificing something dear to them to get something the whumpee needs.

Caretaker turned Whumpee

Caretaker-whumper who's a parental whumper. But their "love" is not real love. Or even right treatment.

Carsickness

Cataracts

Catatonia

Caught in a fire

Caught in an explosion

Cauterization

Cave In

Cavity

Celebrity whump (exploitation in the music/movie industries…)

Chaffing from ropes/handcuffs/shackles

Chained/Shackled

Checking for injuries

CHF - congestive heart failure

Chicken Pox

Chills

Chloroform

Choking

Chronic pain

Claustrophobia

Cleaning wounds alone

Cold/Flu,

Collapsed Lung

Collapsing (into someone’s arms is usually nice, bonus points for cradling their head as they lower the whumpee to the floor)

Collapsing after they win

Collapsing/Fainting/Passing Out

Collars

Coma

Comfort after a nightmare

Common cold

Completely betrayed by their own team

Complications

Concussion

Confusion

Constipation

Constricted Airways

COPD - Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease makes breathing increasingly more difficult.

Corporal Punishment

Corset too tight and won’t unbutton

Coughing

Coughing Up Blood

CPR

Cramps

Crikes (intubation through neck)

Crush injury

Crying

Cuddle pile

Curses

Cuts/Grazes

Cutting off hair (more of an emotional hurt)

Cyanide poisoning

D

Damaged Larynx/Vocal Cords

De-aging

Deathbed Confessions (don’t have to actually die and stay dead, just the threat of dying)

Defeat

Defenestration (throwing out a window)

Dehydration

Deja Vu

Delirium (bonus points for this being drug/ fever induced)

Deluded whumper/thinking they’re helping the whumpee

Dengue Fever

Denial

Depression

Dermatitis

Diabetes (type 1 and 2)

Diarrhea

Diseases ('mystery' diseases are the best kind)

Dislocations

Disorientation

Disowned by Family

Displaced hip

Dissociation

Distress call

Dizziness

Dragged Away

Dream sequence

Driving to the hospital with a whumpee slumped barely-conscious in the seat of the car

Drowning

Drunkenness

E

Ear Infection

Edema (swelling from build up of fluid)

EKG

Electrical Burns

Electrical shock

Electrocution

Emergency field surgery

Emergency Surgery

Emotional angst

Emotional manipulation

Endometriosis

Enemy to Caretaker

Energy Drain

Environmental whump

ER

Execution

Exes reunited with one wanting a relationship and the other just wanting friendship.

Exhaustion

Experimentation

Exposure

Extreme Weather

Eye injury

F

Facing Phobias

Failed Escape

Failure to thrive

Fainting

Fainting (but also fainting aftermath) / Fainting due to lack of sleep, food, or overworking fainting from exhaustion

Falling

Falling for Caretaker/Whumpee/Whumper

Falling Through Ice

Fatigue/Exhaustion

Fever

Fibromyalgia (Chronic Pain)

Field medicine

Fighting (while injured)

Financial difficulty faced + how whumper might take advantage of that + how caretaker handles everything (well/badly)

Finding your loved one dead without explanation but thinking they’re still alive.

Fireman's carry

Flare ups

Flashbacks

Flinching away

Flu

Food Poisoning

Forced to... (Break out, Choose, Hurt, Kneel, Scream, Watch)

Forehead kisses

Forgotten by team

Foul-tasting medicine

Found family

Found unconscious

Fracture (Arm, Hyoid bone etc)

Freezing / cold whump

Friendly Fire

Frostbite

G

Gagged/Muzzled

Gangrene infection

Gaslighting

Gas (noxious, poisonous etc)

Gastritis

Glass (shards, debris etc)

Grief

Gunshot Wound

H

Hair Pulling/Cutting/Matting/Stroking

Hallucinations

Hanahaki

Handcuffs

Handgag

Hard ground

Haunted

Hay Fever

Head injuries/concussion

Head trauma

Headache/Migraine

Heart Palpitations

Heartburn

Heat Exhaustion

Heatstroke

Heavy metal poisoning

Held at gunpoint/knifepoint/weapon point

Hematohidrosis (Sweating blood)

Hemophilia/Hematophilia (Blood unable to clot)

Haemothorax

Hernia

Hidden Illness/Injury/Scar/Medical Issues

Hiding

High Blood Pressure

High Fever (like dangerously high)

High Pain Tolerence

Hit by a car

Home Sickness

Hospital Codes

Hostage Situation

House burnt down

Huddling for Warmth

Human Shield

Human Weapon

Hunger

Hungover

Hunted for Sport

Hurt no comfort

Hyperalgesia,

Hypermobility

Hyperventilating

Hypo/Hyperthermia

Hypo/Hyperthyroidism

Hypoglycemia

Hypotension/ Hypertension

Hypoxia

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion

[octopus-reactivated]

Whumpee who is used to Whumper punishing them for small or even made up "mistakes" gets in habit of apologising for everything.

When Caretaker takes Whumpee in, they are so sure that they will fail at something, that they just start apologising at slightest suspicion Caretaker is displeased. Caretaker asks what Whumpee is apoligising for, leading to Whumpee confessing they don't know what they did wrong and apologising for not knowing it.

Which only results in more confusion on Caretaker's part

[inhurtandincomfort]

What are your favorite ideas for aftermath of "noncon" scenarios? As in trauma recovery or lack thereof.

Thank you for the ask! Sorry I'm late, I meant to reply yesterday and wrote out my response and everything, but forgot to actually send it lmaooo

Scenarios for trauma and recovery of noncon under cut, aka me yapping

First off I really love whumpees who are... messy, in their recovery. They're so angry at themselves, at everyone around them, but they refuse to tell anyone why. They're too guilty, too ashamed to even confront the truth of what happened to them. They wind up pushing everyone away, until one day, somehow, one character finds out and it all just makes sense. I adore friends finding out of course, but I also love when enemy or rival finds out. They thought Whumpee was just a being a dick for the sake of it - bonus points if rival has noncon related trauma too.

-Adding on to that, whumpees who engage in risky behaviour in an attempt to gain their life back. I'm talking going home with strangers, getting drunk and letting themselves be taken advantage of, even if they know they've been drugged. Never saying no, to anything, even non-intimate things because they're so used to it being ignored. Just. Dangerous self-destructive behaviours just to gain some semblance of control.

-Perhaps a scenario for the first one, whumpee who never speaks a word to anyone of what happened - Whumper was someone highly respected. Team Leader, or Medic, or Hero, even just a Friend, someone beloved so whumpee things no one will believe them. They keep quiet with all this angst and rage building inside them. At a party -maybe celebrating Whumpers promotion or heroic deed- Whumpee drinks a little too much. They get into a small argument with whumper that escalates until it all comes out in one tearful confession. And personally I'm a fan of whumpee being believed immediately after this, every face in the room a mixture of concern, shock, anger and horror

-I see a lot about hypersexual whumpees after trauma and that's very good. But I really like whumpees who completely clam up at the prospect of any touch or intimacy, even non-sexual. It leaves room for some wonderful moments when the slightest innocent touch, brushing against them in the hallway - or needing to touch them to treat their injures - leads to a panic attack

-In fact, I love whumpees who's trauma response makes them act the opposite to how they normally would, and the confusion of friends/family/team that follows

-Whumpers who become so loving and tender afterwards, cleaning whumpee up and offering soothing words no matter how violent they were moments before. Even kindness can become a trigger

-When whumpee was captured with the team and abused - I'm not a fan of forced to watch in this regard, but I love when they take whumpee to another room but the team just knows. And if Whumpee did it in exchange for necessary supplies - one or more of them are sick or injured, and desperately need water and medicine- well then there's just a whole bunch of trauma and guilt for everyone involved! It will either make them grow closer as they work through it together... or drive them apart because it's all too much.

-I LOVE when whumpee is able to enjoy intimacy again. Whether it's a new relationship after the event, or an old relationship where intimacy had to be put on hold - there's little I love more than a Partner who really doesn't care how long it takes, even if it never happens, just having Whumpee safe is all they want; but it bothers Whumpee. They refuse to let whumper steal this from them, too. The moment they finally do it without crying, without being triggered, without having to stop and apologies - I think it's so sweet and a real marker of whumpees progress.

-I'm not just talking about sex, I mean intimacy in general. I really love Caretaker bathing a whumpee who's too injured or weak to do it themselves, gentle touches, tenderly washing their hair and it's so innocent yet such a private, intimate moment

-But also the lead-up to that moment too. It ends in a success, but there will be failures along the way. When partner is so careful, so perceptive, and when whumpee is triggered they keep crying and apologising and feeling guilty they can't share this with the one they love anymore, but partner keeps assuring them that it's okay, they can take as long as they need, that there's nothing wrong with them for being upset.

-There is also something to be said for a bad partner who does make whumpee feel guilty.

-After the event, Whumpee changed part of themselves that Whumper loved. Whumper loved their long hair? Cut it short. They liked the makeup they wore? Whumpee stopped wearing it altogether. Friends and team knew how much Whumpee loved doing those things, but it's too painful now. It's such a cathartic moment the first time Whumpee wears their hair long again, or comes down with a full face of makeup - and looking genuinely happy about it.

-I don't write it often, but I love when it goes to court, and whumpee is brave enough to look Whumper dead in the eye who tries to avoid their gaze. It's been a long fight, Whumpee often wondered if it was worth it, but when that guilty verdict hits they break down crying in relief. All that pain, reliving their trauma, it was finally all worth it.

[whumpberry-cookie]

Late night confessions

-----------------

Whumpee: "Can I tell you something... personal?"

Caretaker: "Mm, go ahead"

W: "I'm really ashamed of that, but lately.... it's been on my mind how much I'd want to be in their place. For once to be the one who hurts. Not the one getting hurt"

C: "You are tired. And frustrated. It's understandable"

W: "I know, but... wasn't Whumper in my position before? Didn't he get hurt just like I did? And he must have had the same realisation. It means I'm no better than him and-"

C: "You are."

W: "-and this whole recovery, medicine, your help. Those were all pointless, because in the end I will be just-"

C: "Whumpee. There is no possible scenario where helping you would be pointless. None."

W: "but-"

C: "I love you.. I love you, Whumpee. I do"

W: "Can you guarantee my future self will be still lovable? You wouldn't love me if I became like Whumper, would you...?"

C: "I w-"

W: "-It's just... Their life seems so much easier. they always win. The law's always on their side. They always get their way. They are happy their whole lives while making everyone miserable and then die in peace".

C: *sigh* "Are they happy, or are they mistaking happiness for power?"

W: "...."

C: "I can tell it bothers you a lot. Let me tell you this: human brains are designed to search for different solutions. But it's you who makes the decision. You are not a bad person for having those thoughts. You just want to survive..."

W: "I'm- I'm so sorry..."

C: "Hey, don't cry now.. Cm here" *hug* "You are so much stronger than him. So much wiser. Don't blame or torment yourself now, you are already in a great pain. You deserve a rest"

W: "So you still love me?"

C: *giggles* "I do. I do. I do."

--------------------------

[justbreakonme]

I know magical/instant healing can be unsatisfying, but:

-instant healing superhero whumpee forced to constantly reinjure themselves to keep their cover.

-magical whumpee forced to do the same/unable to use magic around others, so even though they know relief is millimeters away, they can’t get it.

-a whumpee who loses their healing powers, facing pain of intensity that they’ve never dealt with before.

-whumpee falling into the wrong hands, being experimented on to see exactly how far their power goes.

-whumpee being picked up by a crime syndicate as a spy, trained to endure torture because, well, they can be.

-the whumpee confesses their power to the wrong person, and suddenly their trapped in a sort of organ farm, harvested for organs that grow back overnight, blood that regenerated in minutes, limbs that will be fully fleshed in a week. The whumper assures them that they’re saving lives, don’t be selfish.

-whumpee with survivors guilt, even though they knew they shouldn’t have survived.

[natt-writes]

whump prompts I live for

When Whumpee still acts fearless and unaffected, even after being rescued/escaping from Whumper, so their friends think they’re fine. Then one day whumpee is reminded of their time with Whumper and all there suppressed emotions start coming out and their friends are freaked out because they have never seen them cry before.

when caretaker and whumpee have been friends for years and have always trusted each other with literally everything, but after whumper broke whumpee down to nothing and filled their head with lies, they don’t know who they can trust. They flinch away from any kind of contact with caretaker and won’t tell them about their trauma or let them clean up their wounds. They keep telling caretaker they can do everything themselves, until one day they can’t and caretaker has to save the day, helping to rebuild that trust.

when whumpee is distant and cold but after being given drugs to help with the pain of their wounds (Forcefully or not), they are all giggly and unable to control their own body, so caretaker has to treat them kinda like a baby as they clean up their wounds and get them to bed all while whumpee babbles incoherently. (Bonus points if whumpee ends up confessing something to caretaker while drugged, especially if it’s that they love them.)

When the Whumper is trying to break Whumpees spirit, but whumpee keeps on making jokes and messing with Whumper, even while being tortured. That is, until things get a little too…intense and everything goes really silent and oh! Is that a tear I see? Now whumpee is sobbing and begging for the whumper to stop, unable to keep up their witty appearance and absolutely hating themself for it.

Whumpee has a huge fear of vomit but has gotten super sick and needs to puke up all the stuff in their stomach. They keep telling caretaker that they are fine, even though they obviously aren’t. Their face is glossy with sweat as they swallow, hoping not to puke. Eventually caretaker has to drag them to the bathroom and force them to vomit, (ie; touching their gag reflex, pushing on their stomach, describing gross things as Whumpee leans over the toilet bowl.) much to the dismay of Whumpee who is hating every minute of this, even though they know it’s good for them. (Bonus points if Whumper is the reason they are sick, like they gave them the flu or force fed them or gave them poison, etc etc.)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Heretic's Chosen, Chapter Four

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three |

CW: Aftermath of noncon/dubcon, nonsexual nudity (or... post-sexual nudity?), mentioned bruises, creepy whumper, intimate whumper

-

Present day

“You don’t believe in Dromada.” Grigori keeps his gaze firmly off to one side, refusing to grant the bastard the privilege of eye contact. Instead, he stares through the barred window at the beautiful day outside. 

Bohli only laughs, straddling Grigori’s hips as he reaches over him to untie his hands from the intricately carved headboard, one by one, before pulling them down to tie them together. Why Bohli bothers, Grigori will never know - it’s not like he can go anywhere, like he could escape this. Put that damn pendant back on and Grigori will look like he’s in love if he’s told to. He’ll feel like he’s in love, and be utterly unable to understand he isn’t.

“No,” Bohli says, voice low and heavy, and Grigori’s mind may shudder at the idea that Bohli will want him again so soon, but his body responds differently. “Or rather… yes, but not the way you think.”

He pulls away, leaving Grigori to shiver in the sudden chill when Bohli’s too-warm body is gone. He sits up, watching Bohli dress in his black leathers while Grigori can only sit there naked, picking at the knots on his wrist without success. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“Well, I believe in Dromada, but I don’t believe in any such thing as your silly human goddess,” Bohli responds easily. His leather slide on like a second skin, and as soon as he has them, Grigori can hardly remember what he looks like without clothing - only a sense of skin absolutely covered with runic tattoos in the elven tongue that he refuses to explain or elaborate on. “Those are two different things, Grigori.”

Bohli is a little flushed from his exertions, his hair a wild mess atop his head, but he doesn’t even bother to try and comb it down. He has a feral look to him, with his narrow chin and hard jaw and sharp teeth, that isn’t attractive, not in the slightest, no matter what Grigori’s immensely traitorous body thinks.

“No, they’re not,” Grigori says. Before he can finally work one knot open and free himself, Bohli is back in front of him, pulling him to his feet on shaky legs. His hips hurt, his lower back aching in a soft way that might have been sweet, if any of this was what he wanted. 

Isn’t it, though, by now? He could be fighting harder than this.

But he doesn’t.

As days pass, he fails to see the point in trying. At least his mind is wiped clean, for a few perfect minutes, each time Bohli overcomes his resistance. At least he has peace, briefly, before all his self-loathing rises again. 

“Hm?” Bohli blinks, pulling Grigori’s knuckles to his lips, giving each one a gentle kiss that has Grigori’s fingers twitching in an urge to throw a punch that he knows damn well won’t land, just to say he did it. Just to keep fighting. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Dromada is the human goddess of forgiveness,” Grigori says, slowly, frowning and jerking his hands back from Bohli’s grip. The half-elf… man… whatever he is, laughs and ties a new rope to the short bit of slack between Grigori’s wrists, backing up while jerking on the makeshift leash to force Grigori to stumble forward, naked and sweaty and marked from Bohli’s attentions, with lips still red and thighs still shaking. “Wait, what-... what are you doing-”

“Taking you for a walk,” Bohli says cheerfully, continuing backwards to the door, yanking Grigori into the hallway even as he starts trying to drag his feet.

As lean as he looks, though, Bohli has inhuman strength, and no amount of struggle keeps Grigori within the relative safety of his room.

No, his feet stumble onto the thick, heavy rug that runs the length of the hallway, and his face flushes a deep dark red as he sees two of the bandit gang turn to look before they burst into laughter and murmur to each other.

Bohli keeps him moving, away and not towards the two who still direct their laughter at Grigori’s back. 

Grigori’s heart pounds in his chest, he’s dizzy from rage and humiliation as they pass bandits in ones and twos, down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door of this ramshackle home for evil out into the sunshine. Every single bandit laughs at him - he knows all their darkest sins, they come to confession regularly whenever Bohli commands it, and they don’t lie. They want him to know the depravations they pursue, they want him to see the wicked natures of their hearts. 

He knows the worst things they have ever done, and yet here, they laugh at him - and he can do nothing. As far as they're all concerned, he is just Bohli's bedtoy and prisoner, here to amuse, here to be ground under their feet, here to give Bohli his basest desires to play with, a holy man to turn into profane perversion.

Not that he feels holy any longer.

Please, he prays, but Dromada doesn’t listen. Maybe She can’t hear him in the Kaila, maybe the woods are beyond Her ability to reach. Maybe that’s why mankind stays away from the darkness here, the trees older than time, the first forest to have ever existed. The place where the elves once came from, before they were chased back into it, before they were destroyed.

Or were they?

Please save me. I will be your priest again, and I will not waver this time. Please, please, goddess, please. 

She gives him nothing.

The sun, at least, is warm on his hair and skin, and the grass is soothing and soft under his bare feet. Bohli tips his head back and Grigori watches his eyes close as he seems to preen and flower under the heat and light coming from the bright blue sky. Grigori looks wrecked, like a whore after serving in the war-tents for the soldiers.

You are a whore, now. You know that, right?

He forces his own thoughts away. Grigori knows he looks destroyed, torn apart, scratched to bleeding, bitten to bruising, slapped to redness on his arse and face according to Bohli’s depraved lusts. But Bohli… looks pristine. There’s no red marks on him, no bruise. Nothing to show what he's done.

Only his lovely, sharp face and his bright, shining smile.

As if Grigori had simply fucked himself into this appearance, and Bohli had stood by above it all.

“I hate you,” Grigori says aloud, hardly realizing he’s done so until Bohli opens his eyes and turns to look at him, looking faintly surprised. 

“What?” Grigori’s heart quakes, just a little, at the way Bohli’s smile drops off like it was chalk washed away by rain, and something in those dark eyes turns coldly elven, all his humanity simply gone like it’s only a mask he wears and he can take off at will.

“You… you heard me,” Grigori says, and somehow his voice stays steady. There are more bandits out here - the ones patrolling the edges of the clearing, guarding against wildlife that might try to make its way in. A few simply sitting out on the grass enjoying pints of beer they make themselves here from stolen grain. He knows they’re looking while pretending not to look, seeing the marks on his body, knowing their leader put them there. “I hate you. You have-... you have ruined me.”

For a moment, those black eyes on his feel like voids he might fall into and drown.

Then Bohli throws his head back and laughs so loud that a flock of birds is startled out of the trees nearby and takes flight with raucous caws and the beat of wings.

He keeps laughing, the bastard, his knees folding and then giving out until he falls onto the ground, jerking the rope until Grigori is pulled down, too, to land on his hands and knees on the grass. Someone calls out something filthy about what they could do with him out here like this, and his face burns. Tears are hot beyond his eyelids and he works as hard as he can to ignore them.

Bohli is still laughing, airy and breathless, as he drops onto his back, turning his head to look at Grigori with appraising, glimmering eyes. “Gods below, you thought I would care. See, Brother Grigori-”

“How dare you call me that!”

“-this is why I like you so much! You are a fucking treat. I’m so glad we let you live. I’m so, so glad I found you. You’re a beauty, and you’re mine. Now that’s a gift from the gods, don’t you think? My very own dirty little priest.”

“I-I’m no longer-”

“Oh, you still are one. Just because I have taken all your sacred parts and sanded them down to mud doesn’t mean you aren’t still a priest of Dromada, my pretty little man. You are a pure man turned to slut at my command, and that's all I need you to be, really. Come here.”

Grigori sets his jaw, knowing it won’t matter. But he can’t force himself to move, and he has to make Bohli work for this, even if he isn’t sure why he bothers. “No.”

“I said, come here, little priestling.” Bohli's smile shifts again, fades a little.

“And I said no.”

They stare at each other, for one long breath of silence broken only by the wind in the trees and the fading calls of the fleeing birds. Then Bohli’s smile widens so much that he seems like the stories of sea monsters and sharks, a mouth full of rows of endless teeth, black eyes that take in light but don’t reflect it. “Oh, Brother Grigori,” Bohli breathes, lighting up with new desire. “If you want me to take you again so badly, you should just say so.”

“What?” Grigori’s eyes widen in shock and new horror. He still hurts, he still throbs. “No!” He throws himself backwards, and Bohli isn’t expecting it - the rope slips through those long fingers fast enough to make the half-elf wince before Grigori is on his feet and fleeing, still naked, towards the woods.

Others in the bandit group stand, but Bohli holds up a hand. “Let him go,” He says, voice bright, getting softer as Grigori runs. “I’ll give him a ten-minute head start, let's see how he begs for me to take him back once I catch him.”

Grigori hears more laughter, but he ignores it, making the edge of the clearing in only a few seconds. He’s always been a good runner, fast and strong. He used to race some of the others in circles around the temple, see who could do the most laps in the shortest amount of time. His breath burns his lungs as he things, unwillingly, about his brother priests, the family murdered by the same bandits who keep him here as a sort of toy for their amusement, who shred him body and soul, day by day, to… what? Prove some point about their hatred of the goddess?

To prove some mysterious point to the King, a man Grigori has never met, who no one has ever seen in person outside the palace and the battlefield?

He runs, half-blinded by tears that come unbidden, that he can't quite seem to force away. He runs as if fleeing the flames that had burned down the only life he ever knew and left him to dissolution, to being preyed upon by a creature of such absolute devotion to degradation.

The trees at first seem natural and normal, but as Grigori runs straight into the woods, the Kaila begins to crowd around him. The sunlight grows dimmer, blocked by the grand canopies of the trees that loom over his head. After a couple of miles, maybe three, the canopy is so thick that it seems as dark as night around him. Things crash away from him through the woods, wildlife startled by him into fleeing. 

His feet hurt, sharp pains as he keeps stepping on things he can’t see through the underbrush. He's panting like a child - or like a man who hasn't been allowed to run in a year.

By now, he knows, Bohli is after him, tracking his trail through the trees. Grigori comes to a stop, looking around himself and realizing he has no idea how far he will need to go to find one of the safe paths through the Kaila.

Or if there even is one in this direction.

He takes a breath through lungs that burn, realizing he can’t even give up and turn around and go back. He has no idea which direction he’s come from, and no idea which direction to go. His rebellion may be simply to die, lost in the dark forest that is damnation to man, doomed to wander as just another trapped spirit caught here between the trees, subjected to the whims of the lingering traces of the elven gods and their terrible cruel amusements.

But at least he will have wiped that smile off Bohli’s face, taking from him his toy and breaking it where he cannot follow, the bastard.

Grigori squares his shoulders, looks around, and walks in a direction at random, heading for the sound of some kind of stream he can hear, picking his way more carefully now that the panic has subsided. Do elves track by scent? Bohli might, if they do… he doesn’t know. But it can’t hurt to stop for a drink of water before he moves on anyway.

Show me the way, he prays. He pleads, he throws every last remaining shred of belief he has in Her mercy into his mental voice. Please, my goddess, I have worshiped you since I was an infant. Save me. Please, please save me.

She doesn’t answer.

She hasn’t answered him since the day his brothers all died and he was spared by a trick of fate.

Still, he keeps moving.

His last act as Dromada’s Chosen, he supposes, will be simply to take from a wicked man something he wanted for his own. It’s not much.

It’ll have to do.

If he’s very, very lucky, he’ll get Bohli so lost he dies in here, too.

-

Tag list:

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @arlin-always-writing @sunshiline-writes @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @befuddled-calico-whump

[whump-mania]

Alright, here's my idea.

A whumper couple "fighting" over their whumpee, both of them wanting to torment them in their own ways (one can be a brute force trauma type whumper and the other can be a more creepy mind games whumper, i like that pairing) and Whumpee cant figure out if they're glad that they're being "saved" from the other or if they're more terrified that they're being fought over since the whumpers are getting increasingly violent and theyre afraid one might kill the other to keep them forever, and if that happens than it'll be a nightmare either way cause both whumpers are awful

(Thanks for the request!

TWs for cursing, fade to black beating/torture, mentioned drugging, creepy whumper (sfw))

“You’re putting too much thought into it. Just beat them,” Whumper 1 complained in an annoyed tone.

Whumper 2 circled Whumpee’s unconscious form like they were prey, thinking of all the ways they could make their life miserable. Many of the ways didn’t even involve touching Whumpee at all.

“You’re never any fun,” Whumper 2 chided. “You’re not considering how satisfying it is to play into fear,” they said cooly.

“We’re not here to play,” Whumper 1 said gruffly. “We’re here to retrieve information.” They pushed past Whumper 2 and kicked Whumpee in the chest, rudely waking them up. Whumpee coughed and groaned at the force of the kick. They were still a bit weak from what they’d been drugged with.

Whumper 1 stepped forward again to continue the assault, but Whumper 2 stopped them. “No no—let them wake up all the way. We want them to experience all of this.”

Whumper 1 rolled their eyes in frustration and turned around to look for something to hit Whumpee with in the meantime. While they were gone to the other side of the room, Whumper 2 smirked and knelt down next to Whumpee.

“We can make this so bad for you,” they whispered, taking a fistful of Whumpee’s hair and pulling. “You’ll be telling us what we need to know very soon. And after that, you’ll be begging us for death.” Whumper 2 leaned in closer so that their lips brushed Whumpee’s ear. “And we won’t give it to you.”

Suddenly, Whumper 2 was pulled away by the collar of their shirt and up to face Whumper 1, who glared at them dangerously. “That’s enough. You’re wasting time. Use your fists, not your head.”

Whumper 2 looked back at Whumper 1 smugly with no fear. “You don’t want to get in my way, friend.” They pulled a small pocket knife just barely out of their pocket, flashing it. “I can dish it out just as well as you can. I just prefer not to.”

“Is that a threat?” Whumper 1 growled, pulling Whumper 2 closer. The two were in a standoff.

Whumpee, who was just waking up still, managed to push themselves away a little bit. They were honestly relieved that the two were fighting—it took the attention off of them. Meanwhile, they couldn’t imagine being left alone with one of them. They balanced each other out. Whumper 1 could kill them just with their fists if they were alone with them too long, and Whumper 2 would make them wish they were dead with the psychological torment. They didn’t know which they hated most.

Slowly, they scooted themself to the corner to get away from the two as silently as possible. Upon doing this, Whumper 1 turned their head and dropped Whumper 2. “The fuck you think you’re doing?”

Whumpee whimpered and pressed themselves against the wall. They should’ve just stayed where they were.

“Listen…I think we should compromise here,” Whumper 2 said with a grin. “You do what you’re good at, and I’ll do what I’m good at. It’ll be so much for the poor thing. They’ll have to confess what we need eventually.”

Whumper 1 crossed their arms, thinking on it for a moment. “…Fine. But you don’t get to touch them. I want all their bruises to be mine.”

Whumpee shrunk in terror as both tormentors approached them.

[victimeyez]

And Not a Drop to Drink

Chapter 25 of Professional//Victim - Masterlist Here

Caius, Tommy, and Sam have a day out.

Whaaaaat? Tommy comfort?? Well, Caius is still Caius, but I hope this helps scratch the comfort itch several folks have requested.

Content warning: Manipulation, intimate whumper, intimate whumpee, panic attacks, brief ableist language, captive whumpee, shock collars, drugging, Caius is weird and gross but Tommy like. Gets it.

The rest of the drive out passed in a drugged haze. Sam kept him so stoned he did little else than drool in the backseat. He’d be released a once or twice a day to stumble bleary-eyed into a gas station bathroom, with Caius keeping him as close as possible without being blindingly obvious. His collar was wrapped in a bandana, but if he stepped an inch out of line, Caius could drop him with the press of a button. Even after all this time, the thought of being shocked made Tommy’s stomach churn. It wasn’t doing much else, between the painkillers and his restricted diet. 

Tommy had been complying as much as possible, trying to prove obedience before he would do what he was planning, but he wasn’t sure if Sam genuinely meant to be overdosing him. He knew it was a three day drive out when they left, but he couldn’t remember what day it was. The time blurred together - drugged in the backseat, drugged and stuffed in the hidden trunk while Caius and Sam enjoyed some attraction on the way, drugged in the back seat again. Pit stop, more pills, motel, a five minute shower. The most excitement he got was a clamshell full of leftovers from wherever they stopped for dinner. They had done dinner - twice? Or three times? He’d gotten a sandwich, but maybe that was a leftover lunch they gave him that time…Was it three days out including the day they left? His brain was turned to slush with the constant medication.

“I think it’s too much for me, I’m feeling sick,” he weakly protested when Sam tried to feed him more pills. 

“I’ll be quiet, I’m being good. Could I just take them a little later, please?” 

Sam might have told him to stop being a little bitch and take the pills - but he was a little more hesitant after the incident at the lab. He and Caius exchanged looks. Caius shrugged, but relented.

“I guess he’s been pretty conked out. He can look out the window for a bit.” 

Tommy breathed out a slow, quiet sigh of relief. Sam looked irritated, but held his tongue for once. 

Maybe he was trying to behave for Caius, too. 

It was nice to be awake for a while, and his head began to clear. He lolled his head against the window, desperate for the sunlight that made it through the tinted windows. Whenever Caius and Sam stopped, he was packed away in the dark while they got to walk in the sunshine. He felt a pang of longing when they pulled into an aquarium Sam had raved about. He looked at all the pictures on the building of fish and penguins and seals doing tricks, trying to memorize them all before he was inevitably put back in the hole. 

Cauis took to the backseat to usher Tommy into the trunk. When he leaned over him to unbuckle his cuffs, Tommy took a risk. 

He leaned in, nuzzling his nose into the soft spot between Caius’s ear. It surprised him enough that he drew back for a moment, giving Tommy a funny look. Tommy leaned in again and kissed his cheek. Little crinkles at the corner of Caius’s eyes appeared when he smiled, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Ooookay, what do you want?”

Tommy smiled shyly, his heart in his throat. He swallowed it down, Caius was still waiting. He was in a good mood though, his voice playful. Tommy could work with that.

“I’d….really like to come to the aquarium with you,” he murmured. Sweetly, like he was confessing to a crush.

“Do you have the tickets on your phone?” Sam called, from his place stretching outside the car. 

“Yeah,” Caius called back. He finished unlocking Tommy’s handcuffs and sat back again. He squinted at him suspiciously, seeming to think. That was good, the fact that he was even considering it. Tommy put on his biggest puppy dog eyes, tucking his head down meekly, playing coy.

“Please, Caius, let me show you I can be good. I’m participating now, I’m all in.”

Caius chewed it over, his eyes drifting to where Tommy’s covered collar hugged his neck. 

No, don’t let him think too much – make him want it.

Tommy leaned in, slowly. Caius let him, curious enough to see what he would do. Tommy nuzzled his neck, right in the crook of his jaw, and traced the tip of his tongue up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

“Let’s have some fun,” he whispered, before pulling back again, giving him a timid grin. Mild, playful. Tease and back off, the dance he had to do to get something from Caius. If he could convince Caius that it was his idea, not Tommy’s, he might get a little something he wants. 

Oh, Caius’s eyes lit up though. Tommy had said just the right words. He felt a little thrill of excitement inside, a prickle of hope he constantly tried to suppress before he could be disappointed. Caius caught his chin, tilting his head back. 

“How could I say no to you?” 

Tommy beamed. Push down the bitter taste. We’re going to see some fucking penguins. 

~

Sam wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but it was happening. Tommy stood at the ticket booth with them, pinching himself when the attendant handed him a ticket. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!

The aquarium gates opened to a wide cement path walkway, where crowds of people were milling around. Kids raced past, an angry dad chasing them into the giftshop. The distinct smell of fries permeated the air from a stand nearby, and other stands lining the path boasted carnival food. Cotton candy, elephant ears, lemonade. Tommy had been in public with Caius a little bit before, but not like this, and it was suddenly too much. Even when they went to the conference, there was no escaping his status at the bottom. Among regular people, pretending to be a regular person, was daunting. Everyone was looking at him, overdressed for the heat with his bandana and vest and long pants. Still limping slightly, his leg twingeing once in a while. 

Can they tell? Can they see the things I’ve done?

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. The sun was bright, tinned music played through speakers, it was a bombardment to his senses and utterly overwhelming. 

“Are you okay?” Caius asked, his arm slithering around Tommy’s shoulders. “Do you need to go back to the car?”

No. Don’t be a spazz, enjoy this. This might be…the only time. The thought made his heart ache, but he nodded.

“I’ll be fine.” He gave Caius a crooked smile, and Caius patted him on the back. 

“Good. Shall we?”

Caius took his hand, either sensing his anxiety or keeping him close. Either way, it was a comfort in a funny way. Tommy squeezed his hand, and Caius squeezed back. 

I can do this. It’s just another role to play.

Tommy settled in better once he started thinking of it as an act, relieved of the pressure to be a genuine human. There were so many distractions that it helped keep his mind off of his sore leg. Among all the other people, he realized how starkly pale he really was, his skin nearly translucent under the sun. Caius ended up buying an extra bottle of sunscreen to give Tommy a generous coat. He also let him pick out a baseball cap, pushing his unruly curls out of the way to put it on him. It was light blue with white embroidery reading CRESLEY COUNTY AQUARIUM with a shark on it. 

“It’s a blacktip reef shark,” he explained to Caius. 

“You know sharks?” Sam asked, but for once he genuinely sounded curious. Tommy nodded, showing him the hat. 

“I mean - I can name a few, that’s all. I read The Shark Lady as a kid and it like, blew my mind.” 

“I was a sharks and dinosaurs kid, maybe a little more into dinosaurs. That’s cool. God, I haven’t thought about that in ages.”

It was strange to have such a friendly exchange with Sam. Caius smiled approvingly at Tommy, and he smiled back, because he felt like smiling.

He smiled a lot while they were there - so much so that his face hurt. He felt an enormous pressure to somehow enjoy himself hard enough that it could last him for a while. Every tank and exhibit filled him with wonder and joy, but his inevitable return to misery breathed down his neck. 

The exhibits indoors were stunning. Tommy stood in a hallway, surrounded on all sides by the biggest viewing tank he’d ever seen. He watched the lazy path of a hammerhead shark cruising overhead from one side of the tank to the next, amazed at the glimpse of the creature's pale belly over the domed hallway ceiling. 

He could watch it for hours - the gentle flow of the ecosystem around him, predators effortlessly mixing with prey. A little loudspeaker on the floor explained they were so well fed, they posed almost no threat to the other inhabitants of the tank. Tommy wanted to take it all in. He imagined swimming through the tank beside a swarm of metallic silver fish that passed by, and felt a familiar pang of longing. He was a strong swimmer. It fell low on the list out of all the things he missed in his new life, but he missed swimming. 

A subtle movement drew his eyes to a large, mossy rock lurking in the bottom. It wasn’t until it extended its webbed feet that he realized he was looking at an enormous turtle. It started to make its way up, exposing its armored underside to the people milling in the hallway with Tommy. One flipper seemed deformed on its right side, and its path careened in an arc to the right. The creature looked befuddled, but quickly distracted as it leveled out and saw through the glass. It was looking right at Tommy, its little face right at eye level.

Tommy was swept up in a sudden ennui, and he gravitated towards the turtle. He felt like it should be a moment in a movie, where he has this one perfect moment where he would make a spiritual connection with the turtle. One that would somehow change the course of his life. An origin story for - turtle man, or some shit. Wait, something about the teenage mutant-

“Sir, step away from the glass,” a droll voice droned. Tommy realized he was pressed to the glass, his splayed hands flanking his nose against the thick aquarium wall. The employee startled him and he violently pulled back, stumbling into Caius. 

“Oh, I’m –  I’m so sorry, I didn’t –”

“Yeah, well we have to clean it, you know.”

Tommy flushed bright red with shame, his heart a wretched machine clamoring inside his chest. Tears sprung in his eyes, overflowing when he tried to blink them away. Caius put a hand over his mouth, pulling him back against his body hard.

“Sorry about that.” Caius stayed cool, but his voice was clipped. The employee, disenchanted in spite of the scene around her, grunted in response and trudged on about her way. 

Caius swept him through the hallway, easy enough to keep from drawing attention, but Tommy could feel the tension. He wanted to look back at his turtle friend, but Caius yanked him along.

On the other side, Caius took a quick look around before making a beeline toward the bathrooms. A mother and her children were exiting the family restroom, and Caius caught the door before it closed, drawing a few odd looks. He pushed Tommy through and shut the door, turning the lock behind him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” Tommy immediately began groveling, but fell silent when Caius raised a hand. 

“You need to get it together, or you’re going back into the car and staying there. Do you understand?” Tommy nodded shakily, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes as quickly as they formed. He didn’t know why he was crying, but the last hours were suddenly crashing down on him. He put one hand over his mouth and layered it with the other, stifling a sob.  

Caius fiddled with his phone, texting Sam to explain their sudden departure. Tommy turned and saw his face, red and blotchy in the mirror. He’d turned his hat around when they came in for the inside exhibits, and he took it off to set it on the counter. He stared at it as a focus point while he tried to calm down his panting, absentmindedly rubbing his arms up and down to soothe himself. He felt Caius’s hand on his shoulder, his other hand stroking his hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

“What’s wrong, little one? Aren’t you having a good time?”

Tommy hiccuped and looked up, meeting Caius’s eyes in the mirror. He looked concerned, genuinely.

“I am,” Tommy told him, and turned to face him, though he kept his eyes downcast. 

“I am having a really - a really wonderful time. Thank you for letting me come.”

Caius cradled his face in his broad hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

The erratic moments of intimacy Caius provided could be so startling - and he could fly into a rage just as fast. Tommy sniffled pathetically and forced his gaze up, giving Caius wide doe eyes. 

Caius suddenly leaned in, holding Tommy in place as he dove down to kiss him. He caught him off guard, his mouth opened slightly in surprise, and Caius pressed his lips to his urgently. Tommy made a small sound of surprise that Caius stole, licking into his mouth. Tommy went weak, bewildered by the abrupt shift. 

Just stay still and let it happen. Caius had whispered that to him before, and he obeyed now, limp in his crushing embrace. Caius pulled back after a few moments, keeping his hold on his face while he licked long, slow stripes up Tommy’s cheeks. He lapped the tears away, his warm tongue leaving cool paths in their wake. 

The odd change of pace had actually startled Tommy out of his fit, and his panting slowed, the grooming calming him. He knew objectively was strange, but he was in tune with his master. Caius was comforting him in his own way - not a man lapping up his tears, but a mother cat grooming her young. Their bond was tangible, in these moments when they just connected. Tommy could do it sometimes with clients, but with Caius, it felt all-consuming. He pulled back and they met eyes, an understanding passing between them.

“Better?”

Tommy felt a little dizzy, wrapped up in Caius’s feelings, unsure of his own. 

“Yes, Caius,” He murmured back, his eyes lowering. A sharp knock at the door broke the tension, and Caius pulled away to check his phone. Tommy splashed some cold water on his face to quell the red around his eyes. Caius opened the bathroom door to Sam standing outside. 

“Y’all good?”

~

They toured the rest of the aquarium without further incident. Tommy was hard to get away from the touch tank exhibit, delighted by the stingrays that sucked toothlessly at his hands. 

“Their tails are clipped so they can’t sting you, but it doesn’t hurt them. It’s just like trimming nails,” an attending employee told him. She had lots of orange hair and a nice smile.

“That’s so cool, do you do that?”

“Oh, well, no,” she seemed a little sheepish to admit. 

“Still, that’s - that’s really cool, that you work here. They’re really…great.” Tommy cringed a little at his lame conversation, but she smiled again, and he smiled back. He gave her a little wave when Sam pulled him away, and she waved, too. He felt a squeeze in his chest.

I made a friend. 

Caius bought him a lemonade and fed him some boardwalk fries from his late lunch. The fried food and sugary lemonade made him feel a little sick, but he was starving after smelling it again and again over the last couple of hours.

It was hard to leave when it was time to go, but Tommy was admittedly worn out after walking so much. He hadn’t had that much sunlight in - years, really. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much exercise, either, and he was fading fast. His exhaustion made him docile, and he slumped against the car window while he was locked back into his seat. Sam didn’t have to drug him - he quickly fell asleep.

~

~

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Thank you all so much for reading!!!

[year-of-whump-tropes]

Possible weekly themes

Living Weapon Whump

Carewhumper/nice handler

Defiant Whumpee

For the greater good

Dehumanization

emotion removal/repression

Orders and obedience

Intimate Whumper

Touch/physically affectionate whumper

Yandere whumper

Emotional manipulation

demanding behaviors/reciprocation from Whumpee

Creepy whumper

Abusive partner

Love confession/breakup

Pregnancy/miscarriage

Mind control/Possession Whump

Drugs

Hypnosis

Telepathy/Mind-control powers

Tech-based mind control

Parasitic possession

Supernatural possession

Guilt

Sickfic

Flu

Fever

Poison

Sick while with Whumper

Care/treatment

Various illnesses/afflictions (i.e. the week can have a different sickness as each day's theme)

Conditioning/Brainwashing

Trigger/activation words

Punishments

Indoctrination

Conditioned whumpee with Caretaker

Process of conditioning/getting conditioned

Post-conditioning/fully conditioned/brainwashed

Deconditioning

Recovery

Nightmares

Triggers

Regression

Bedrest

Relearning/reclaiming things

trust & safety

Caretaking/comfort

Captivity

Tied up/restraints

Sensory deprivation/restriction

Basement whump

Possessive whumper

torture/abuse

non-physical restraints/control

Imprisonment

Hero/Villain Whump

On the run

Stuck together

"reformation"

Overworked/pushed too hard

Alliances & enemies

disproportionate retribution

Superpower whump

Pet Whump

Collars

Caged

Institutionalized pet whump

"training"

Taking pet whumpee places/showing them off

gilded cage

dehumanization

Team Whump

Separation

Bound/trapped together

Self-sacrifice

betrayal/abandonment

Hiding wounds

Ransom/bait

Unhealthy/harmful team dynamics

Magic Whump

Curses

Nonhuman whumpee/whumper

Magical whumper

Magic with side effects

Immortal whump

Used for their magic

Tiny whump

Magical/supernatural deprivation

magic with a price

Role Changes

Whumper-turned-whumpee

Whumpee-turned-whumper

Whumpee-turned-caretaker

Caretaker-turned-whumper

Whumper-turned-caretaker

caretaker-turned-whumpee

Submit ideas in the askbox! (Or anyplace where I'll be sure to see it.) I will update this as suggestions come in, so make sure you're looking at the root post to see the most recent version of the list.

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

Okay, stupid whump confession time.

When I was first getting into whumplr and figuring out the terminology the fandom used, I saw "environmental whump" and thought it was the strangest, silliest thing ever. Y'know why?

I had no idea what it was.

For some reason, I thought "environmental whump" meant one of two things:

A whumper who loves to actively destroy the planet IE: their whole thing is polluting the environment, cutting down trees, poisoning the water, littering, etc and getting their jollies from that. Think any cartoonish, irredeemable evil business tycoon from a 90's save-the-planet kids movie, but like, on steroids. I thought that nature was the whumpee.

Nature comes alive and is the whumper. I'm talking trees growing limbs and smacking people around, ensnaring people with vines, sentient forest fires making calculated decisions on whose homes to burn, mountains ordering rock slides to take out hikers, etc

Now I realize that environmental whump is more along the lines of "I left my coat at home and got trapped outside during a snowstorm" or "Man, I got water in my shoe and now I'm uncomfortable" and that makes a LOT more sense.