#whump inspiration

[thriftyshark530]

Whumpee ending their friendship/relationship with caretaker because whumpee is afraid that whumper will hurt them too. Preferably they do this by insulting caretaker and saying that they never liked them. It's not true of course, but caretaker doesn't know that.

[whumpercars]

hey, you!! do you want to write a cool angsty whump scene, but the timeline doesn’t work out? Maybe whumpee is miles away from whumper, or whumper died long ago…

I present to you:

WHUMPEE WITH NIGHTMARES!!!!

Dreams don’t have to make sense. Whumper could hurt whumpee in ways that are physically impossible! Who knows, maybe the dream can be all metaphorical? Or even a prophecy! Give your whumpee nightmares TODAY!

[autumnstar06]

Living weapon whumpee x lab whumpee

Weapon whumpee will protect lab whumpee with their life

Maybe they met them while still with whumper, maybe they met them once they both escaped/got rescued and just became friends, (I like to think they were both in a program to get a caretaker because they didn't know anyone that would take care of them)

Just a weapon who would protect their new friend who they know have gone through difficult times before, they don't want them to ever be in pain like that again

[pvtashby]

Military whump prompts

(because Reddit is down and I’m chronically online)

Hearing the whumpee’s screams over the radio as they’re captured, the rest of the team frozen in horror.

• Patch job in the middle of the battlefield, someone pressing down on a wound with their bare hands, whispering, “Stay with me, okay? Just stay.”

• Post-mission debrief, but the whumpee is barely holding it together, swaying on their feet as the adrenaline wears off.

• The whumpee refusing pain meds because they need to “stay sharp,” only to pass out mid-conversation.

• “I don’t leave people behind,” they growl, limping and bleeding but refusing to abandon the unconscious teammate over their shoulder.

• Waking up in a field hospital, disoriented and panicked, pulling out the IV before being restrained by a firm but gentle voice.

• “We’re not going to make it.” “Yes, we are.” Cue one of them doing something reckless to ensure the other gets out alive.

• Cold, soaked to the bone, huddled in a ruined building during a downpour, one of them feverish while the other desperately tries to keep them awake.

• Hiding an injury to avoid being benched, only for it to get worse at the worst possible moment.

• “You don’t understand—I can’t go back. I can’t be discharged.”

• A high-ranking officer demanding a mission debrief while the whumpee is barely conscious, words slurring, bleeding through their uniform.

• A medic struggling to save the whumpee in the back of a jolting vehicle, yelling for the driver to go faster.

• Post-rescue, sitting by the whumpee’s bedside, counting every beep of the heart monitor like a prayer.

[yet-another-heathen]

On conditioned whumpees...

Y'know, I think one of the things that people get wrong with conditioned whumpees is their rules. Specifically, when a whumpee was in long term captivity/training and they later get released or escape.

Most people write them as latching onto a caretaker or new whumper, and begging for new rules so they know they're doing something right. A new set of laws to live by, a new framework to behave to.

And that's... not really how conditioning works.

Conditioning means automatic reactions. Your body doing something that was trained into you without consulting your brain first.

There is no decision making. There is no choice. The trigger hits, and you are immediately performing the correct action regardless of anything else.

You're told to kneel? Your knees have already hit the ground. You're supposed to be standing in one part of the house when a certain noise is made? You've launched into movement before you even realize what you heard.

These rules are woven into the fabric of your body. And they are insurmountable. The conditioning overrides emotion, internal conflict, hesitation, beliefs, wants... everything.

Your whumpee may very well hate what is being done to them, and after the moment has passed they're cursing themself and their whumper. They're still a person on the inside. And that person is still very much alive. Most of the time, they will have some level of awareness that what's being done to them is wrong. They'll be angry. They'll be hurt. And they will hate that there is nothing they can do about it.

But the next time that trigger occurs, the response still hits them exactly the same.

So now take your whumpee out of that situation. They ran away, were rescued, were sold. They got out. Now they're with new people, a new caretaker, a new whumper. Or they're on their own and trying to make their own way in the world.

But those conditioned responses are still there.

There's no turning them off. You don't just replace them with new rules. They are in your every fibre. They have been built into the very framework of who you are.

The next time someone says the word "kneel", your knees are on the ground again. No matter where you are, or who you're with. The response happens before you can stop it. If they don't know why, everyone looks at you like you're insane. And you feel like you are.

Deconditioning is an agonizing process that takes more effort than I can even begin to describe to someone who's never experienced it.

Every time they hit that trigger, that response will still be there. Over, and over, and over, and over.

Breaking those rules down takes YEARS. And it is a constant effort that the whumpee has to choose to undergo every single time. Progress is measured milimeter by milimeter. You're told to kneel, and you kneel. You're told to kneel, and your mind catches up with the fact that you already did it— but a little sooner than it did before. Then a split second sooner. Then as you're doing it. Then you feel the impulse just before your knees hit the ground. Then you have a split-second of resistance before you go down. On and on and on and on, inching toward progress despite the fact that you're fighting with all your might. And that progress is anything but linear.

You don't just start obeying new rules. You don't latch on to your caretaker's new way of doing things and drop everything that you were conditioned to do before. These rules don't just get replaced.

Conditioning is not a belief system. It's a flinch response. Programmed deeper than the instincts you were born with.

You can be ordered not to obey the old command, and moments later when the trigger comes, you will anyway. Because in conditioning, the action comes before the choice.

These rules, these laws of your existence, come above everything else. And if your new whumper wants to replace them, they are going to have to beat the new rules into you so often and so severely that the pain becomes stronger than the old conditioning. At which point, the newly desired response will very, very slowly start to take over.

You're not swapping out new rules. You're layering new, worse conditioning on top of the old. And your brain will spend time stuck in that split-second between both responses before one finally grows stronger than the other. And even then, the change will not happen quickly.

That is what your conditioned whumpee is up against. That is what makes it such a horrible—HORRIBLE— and powerful tool.

[spinzolliii]

DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO CLUE IF THIS IS MEDICALLY ACCURATE

Something that whump writers don’t consider:

IVs feel cold. Can you imagine a room temperature liquid going directly into the bloodstream of someone who’s 97-104 degrees? It’s hellish. You can’t get warm no matter how much external heat you receive.

Imagine a delirious whumpee whimpering and clawing at an IV while being restrained and reassured by Caretaker.

“No no no, that stays in”

“Hey, hey. I know it hurts, but it’ll help you feel better”

Maybe the whumpee’s hallucinating, thinking that they’re being tortured. When Caretaker’s words fail to get through, they have to use gentle touches and singing. Or, if you want to be mean, you can have the Caretaker being forced to restrain Whumpee to prevent them from hurting themselves until they run out of energy and pass out.

[eight-littlenightmares]

whumpee who occasionally gives up and just lays there for a few minutes.

maybe they’re safe and just taking a breather, maybe they need a minute before attempting to save themself, maybe they’ve actually given up.

either way, they just lay there and stare at the ceiling. they’re very tired.

[whumpkinpie]

Whumpee stirring from a deep, medical-induced sleep to the sound of muffled voices, fighting to pry their eyes open to see who it is but their resolve is too weak, their eyelids too heavy.

Their head lolls sideways on the pillow as they draw a slow, sluggish breath, mumbling unintelligibly'Where am I? What's happening?' But their mouth is unable to properly form the words.

The voices pause suddenly, and hesitate, before Whumpee feels a warm gentle hand is stroking their face and hair.

"No, No...shhhh. Shh, It's alright, Whumpee. It's nothing," A soothing voice whispers, lulling them back down. "Just go back to sleep."

"It'll all be over soon..." Is the last words Whumpee hears before the medicine takes over again, causing them to fall back into their slumber.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

🤍 Subtle Signs of a Caretaking Dynamic 🤍

Caretaker stepping in front of whumpee instinctively when there's gunfire/a loud noise/etc.

Whumpee looking towards Caretaker instinctively when faced with danger or a difficult question.

Caretaker carrying whumpee's belongings for them or opening doors for them. Generally making tasks easier for whumpee.

Caretaker knows things about whumpee's recovery or medical situation off the top of their head, without even having to think about it.

Or Caretaker gets defensive when asked about whumpee. "Why do you want to know? What do you want with them?"

Whumpee leaning against Caretaker's shoulder when they're next to each other.

Caretaker lightly brushing a hand against whumpee's hand in a gesture of comfort. Or whumpee initiates that, and Caretaker picks up on a hint and holds their hand.

If the relationship is fated or somehow bound, there may be markers of a unique bond, such as tattoos, bite marks, etc.

Their tone of voice changing completely as soon as they start talking to each other. Maybe they're shy with everyone else but joke with each other. Or maybe they act cheerful with everyone else, but turn serious as soon as they can talk to the one other person who knows what's really going on.

Nonverbally checking if whumpee is okay with meaningful glances across a room or "thumbs-up versus thumbs-down" gestures.

Caretaker immediately noticing when something is wrong for whumpee and getting visibly stressed.

[beatingtheshitoutofmen]

Obsessing over the idea of whumper having a partner, the sniper.

Whumper chasing an escaping whumpee, whumpee thinking they’re safe when out of nowhere they get shot in the leg/stomach/somewhere that makes it hard to run

The realization of a whumpee that there will always be an unseen enemy at whumpers command, ready to take them down

OR

Whumper being caught and cornered by the police and before they can handcuff whumper, a headshot to one of the officers sends the rest of them into a panic leaving whumper smiling because whumper knows their partner never misses and they’re all fucked now.

[thriftyshark530]

Whumper torturing a captive whumpee so often that whumpee starts reacting before they feel any pain.

Screaming before any contact is made. Begging for mercy before they're hit even once. Flinching at the cell opening. Tears forming as whumper caresses their skin. Desperately trying to negotiate their own release while whumper prepares their weapon of choice. Of course, whumper could play into this and torture whumpee without ever touching them. After all, why break what's already broken.

[whumpercars]

you know what whump trope I love?

the same dialogue being used for both whumper and caretaker, but in very different contexts!

“This’ll hurt,” (Before being tortured / before taking off a Bandaid)

“Don’t move.” (While whumper restrains them / while caretaker brushes their hair)

“Quiet down.” (Whumper yelling at sobbing whumpee / caretaker gently shushing excited whumpee)

“They’re not coming for you.” (Whumper telling them no one will save them / Caretaker telling them no one will kidnap them)

“I’m only trying to help.” (Whumper pretending to take care of them / Caretaker actually taking care of them)

“You’ll never see them again.” (Whumper mocking them / Caretaker reassuring them)

[floral-comet-whump]

Whumpee that deceives Whumper

They rack their brain to memorize every little movement, every indicator of Whumper's mood, every pattern. At some point, they even learn to predict Whumper.

They know what Whumper likes to see. They know what they want within a few minutes, what's going to happen to them. They're powerless to stop it.

Sometimes Whumper wants them to silently cry on the floor, so they do. It would be foolish not to conserve energy while they can.

Sometimes Whumper is already in a bad mood. They probe, both because the knowledge is invaluable and because then Whumper will take it out on them.

Whumpee has a little internal guide to how to take punishments. Begin as defiant, but still shake. Look like they're trying to conceal their fear. Gradually break. It starts off as a yelp or sob or whimper followed by an immediate insult, then Whumpee goes quiet for a bit until it's “too much,” begging quietly. And then it's as if a dam has been broken, frantically pleading for mercy, for a reprieve. They look at Whumper with wide, teary eyes, and both their true self and their facade just want it to stop.

Their cries turn quiet as their energy runs out, until they can't bear to look at anything. Their flinch at Whumper's hand on their chin doesn't need to be faked. Their distress is real, and they let themselves whimper. Whumper likes displays of exhausted weakness, it makes them feel as if they've won.

They lean into the little coos and pets Whumper gives after, trying not to gag. Alarms of panic ring through their head, and they acknowledge them.

It would be easier to lose themselves in the comfort after the torture. It would be so much easier to become a shell of a person. They already act like one. Why can't they give up?

The emotional exhaustion after they've been left alone. The dark quiet. Their steadying breath. The scent of both blood and anticeptic. The locked door. The pain.

They can escape once Whumper deems them broken enough to let out unsupervised. It's just a matter of time, just a matter of maintaining this act. A matter of trust from a sadistic torturer that keeps Whumpee in a basement for no reason other than their own pleasure.

They have to keep going.

[pvtashby]

Angry/horrified rescuer dialogue

"I swear to God, if Whumpee dies after all this, you don't wanna know what I'm gonna do to [whumper]."

"What kind of sick fuck thinks of that?"

"I hope to God they left a trail, because I'll fucking follow it to hell."

"Fucking hell," rescuer mutters, "I'm going to drink until I forget this. Who the hell does this to a human being?"

// after they manage to sedate Whumpee who was screaming in agony //

"Jesus Christ. At least they’re not screaming anymore."

"God, that sound's gonna stick with me forever."

"Finally. They’re out. If I had to hear them scream like that one more second..." *trails off*

[suspensefulpen]

Darling is such a powerful word to me

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

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

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

[spinzolliii]

People forget that recovering from an injury takes so much energy. It’s not just pain, but a constant exhaustion as your body dedicates all of its resources to repairing itself. This can last weeks or months.

The same is true in the aftermath of a severe illness. You’re not necessarily “well” after the infection passes. Your body has to recover from the damage done by the infection. It leaves a person weak and lethargic well after they’ve “recovered” from their illness.

So, imagine a Whumpee being forced to work again immediately after an illness or injury.