#self amputation

[whumpybobbert]

Seriously. Maedhros, Beren, Gwindor, Sauron, Frodo, and now Celebrimbor! It's a Thing

[jingszo]

Highlights

• Snow flies sustain walking at internal body temperatures as low as −10°C

• At this lower limit, the snow fly’s precious body fluids freeze, and it dies

• Snow flies self-amputate freezing legs to prevent ice from spreading to the body

• Leg self-amputation prolongs snow fly survival under frigid conditions

[meltedmush]

Sorry! 😭

[self-aware-sawtrap]

Chainshipping may be the funniest concept of all time. Lawrence Gordon really got put in a saw trap for emotional infidelity, and then decided the only logical reaction to that situation would be to commit emotional infidelity in the saw trap.

[torchtour]

is gord's gun arm bleeding blood or oil or something else??

saw a few tags asking about the goopy arm! so.

the gun fires bullets made of congealed blood (NOT finger/toenails but. its remnant of the hand so pretty close?). the gun uses an alternating clotting/thinning system to tease blood out of the partially-closed wound for firing. blood is also the gun's coolant/lubricant and will spill from the gun when the stump faces the ground. just. just lots of blood involved.

[xr0tt3nxfl3shx]

TW: AMPUTATION/ BL00D/ CODEPENDENCY/INCONSISTENT ART STYLE/ SELF MUT1LAT10N

Anyway ive been making this for a while now, its not great but its smtg ⭐️👁

"This is love right?"

This isnt suppose to be cannon argos btw, i have my own little AU :3 i can post about it perhaps if its wanted but if not ima just keep my silly au to myself T—T

[datrava]

Scum Villain

[ssorpl]

small series of sophie walten drawings, unfinished

tw blood, amputation, sh

[junkbrainz]

hello i'm fucking abnormal about them. this was done with the lasso fill tool and like. hope. so if the anatomy/perspective is weird no it isnt <3

[ryeguns]

GORETOBER DAY 5 : AMPUTATION

[goofalicousgooberface]

John bisexual Kramer putting the Repressed, Straight, White, Married with a kid™️ man with a raging twink and thinking “oh the poor thing hasn’t had the realization yet” and just staring in shock when Lawrence saws the fuck outta his foot cuz he never even told him to do that shit

[night-of-thyme]

Any song can be a selfship song if ur insane enough

stolen from an anti :3 requested by anon (will message them for permission to tag)

[meltedmush]

[whumpshaped]

OH I love the guard dog drabble!!! can I request a continuation or something from the whumpee‘s pov? I wanna see their conditioned thought process :)

prev

tw pet whump, conditioned whumpee, left for dead, caretaker new master, amputation, abandonment, self-deprecation, self-blame, ableist language directed at self, murder, dehumanisation

Whumpee tried to breathe evenly. There was no one to chastise it for panting anymore, but it still believed that if it held itself to the rules of its former master, said master might come to rescue it. Maybe they'd have a change of heart. Maybe they'd decide Whumpee didn't deserve to die shivering and in pain, abandoned in a dirty alley.

When the stranger appeared, it found it had no strength left to pull itself into the shadows to avoid being noticed. All it could do was lie there obediently and occasionally whine as the person touched it and muttered concerned-sounding questions.

It didn't know how to react. Its master wasn't here anymore to tell it whether to bite or nuzzle, and Whumpee didn't have the capability to decide on it itself.

Maybe this was good? The mention of a vet was promising, but could this stranger really be telling the truth? Even if they were... was it allowed to accept help? Its master left it for dead; every breath it'd drawn since was an act of rebellion, further marking it as a failed dog who couldn't even die when it was told to.

But then the mysterious person noticed its ankle, and Whumpee realised it wouldn't have to make the choice. Now that they knew it was faulty, it was only a matter of time before they turned on their heel and decided to forget about the encounter.

At least that was what it thought, before its saviour quickly reassured it.

Help... It would get help. It would be fixed for a new master to take home and make use of.

Would its old master resent it if it went along with this? It wasn't its duty to ponder that. Dogs were to follow the orders of their masters, and Whumpee didn't have an owner anymore. Up until this moment.

-

Whumpee tried very hard to be good for its new master. But when Caretaker brought it to a clinic, one of the first assassments the doctors had made were that its leg was unsalvageable.

It would have to be cut off.

It couldn't keep the panic at bay, it snarled and growled and made a huge fuss. It only managed to settle down when Caretaker firmly told it to, when they guided it back to the comfortable hospital bed and ordered it to let the professionals help.

Surgery was a blur, a blank spot, and more of a blur after, and Whumpee thought everybody had changed their minds with the way its ankle still hurt when the first round of painkillers wore off. Phantom pains, its owner had called it.

Caretaker was still kind after the surgery, softly reassuring it over and over that they wouldn't leave it. They should've, by all accounts. It was weak for a guard dog, ugly for a lapdog, useless for any sort of companion Caretaker might've wanted out of it.

And yet, they stayed. Whumpee couldn't talk, but its silent resolve and pledge of loyalty was as strong as any made with words.

-

Pain. Pain. Pain.

There was nothing but pain and exhaustion in Whumpee's world as it pushed its body to its limits, deciding that a simple setback — such as a missing foot — could never be an excuse for giving up and disappointing its owner. Caretaker took pity on a faulty guard dog, and Whumpee would pay them back by becoming the best among the faulty guard dogs.

It didn't need its foot to be strong. It didn't need its foot to stay alert and obedient.

It didn't care about the instructions of anybody but Caretaker. And when Caretaker wasn't there to supervise its training and rest, it didn't listen to a single nurse who dared assume it would simply accept a new reality in which it was of no use to such a kind, benevolent master.

-

There were no words to describe the joy Whumpee felt when Caretaker allowed it into their home. It was overwhelming, it made it want to cry and laugh at the same time.

It had a home again! It had a home, and a master, and a duty. Caretaker wasn't super clear on what that duty would be yet, but for now, it was just happy to be wanted.

Its new pet bed was an unimaginable step up from the hardwood floor of its former master's bedroom, as well as the wet ground of the alleyway. It was a place to curl up and sleep comfortably, a luxury it'd thought only a prized show dog would ever receive.

And Caretaker still spoke so softly to it. Even though it was recovered now, able to walk and do whatever was needed of it, they still saw it fit to show it kindness. It was abundantly clear that Whumpee would never ever be able to pay it all back, but all it could do was try its best.

-

It jolted awake at the sound of someone rattling the doorknob. Master wasn't home — which meant the duty of defending the home rested upon its shoulders. It growled instinctively, getting into a position from which it could attack with ease, if the intruder were to proceed.

And they did, pushing the door open a mere ten seconds later. Whumpee didn't hesitate.

It tackled the attacker to the floor, holding them down as it tore their throat out. They never got to use the knife they'd clearly brought in case of a potential confrontation, all they could do was grasp it for a few twitchy moments before they dropped it again in favour of clasping both hands over their ruined trachea.

Whumpee stood up and stomped down on their stomach, once, twice, as many times as it took for its foot to break the soft flesh of their abdomen. And then some more. It was so absorbed in its mission that it didn't hear Master entering the apartment, only when they addressed it with clear horror in their voice.

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, nononono–

Had it done something wrong? It dropped to its knees, whining like it had been wounded again, and sobbing like it had any right to do so. If it had made a mistake trying to defend Master's home, then it didn't have any sort of right to pity itself, it had to be punished.

It didn't want to be punished.

Master didn't understand. Whumpee quickly brought out evidence: the lockpick, the knife... Master had to know that Whumpee hadn't gotten violent for no reason. They had to understand.

Please, please understand. I'm a guard dog. This is the only thing I know how to do. I bring death and destruction, but only when Master's safety is threatened, only when it's just, only when it's necessary.

All I wanted was to protect Master.

"You're– you're a guard dog," Master said softly, and Whumpee's relief at being understood mixed with the fear of being abandoned for it. "This... Oh, dear. This is not... This is not good."

It stopped breathing for a moment.

It was happening all over again.

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty

[ask-kei-machi]

my leg hurts and i dont like it.

anyone have a handsaw nearby, or a chainsaw?