#whumpees in suits!!!!

[urlocalwhumper]

living weapon whumpee who's never known anything but pain and violence.

their existence hurts. they were made to be effective, not happy, and their masters decided that keeping them in constant pain provided better results. they're wilder, more unpredictable, and the pain keeps them from thinking straight enough to question anything.

they're only given painkillers, only allowed a respite from their seemingly endless suffering, after a successful mission. it keeps them loyal, and most importantly, teaches their brain to associate acts of violence with relief and rewards.

everyone they've ever met has treated them as a tool, a monster, or both. they don't know how to be anything else.

that is until they're rampaging through a village, destroying, killing, whatever their masters demand of them. whatever will give them a few blissful hours of numbness.

one of the villagers steps out of a ruined building and looks them straight in the eyes. whumpee expects fear, hatred, disgust, the things they see in the faces of every person who's ever crossed their path. but they see something completely different.

compassion.

whumpee is so stunned, they don't think to move or do anything at all as the villager steps closer, gently reaching out a hand to cup whumpee's face.

"oh, poor thing." they murmur, taking in the creature in front of them - part human, part animal, part machine. "they've done a number on you, huh?"

whumpee blinks at them. pain continues to course through their body, but the gentle hand on their cheek distracts them, even if just a little. all the indistinct noise in their foggy, addled mind finally goes quiet.

caretaker had stepped out in front of the being destroying their home with the intention to get through to it or die trying, and the expectation to absolutely die trying.

they did not at all expect the seemingly feral mishmash of metal, fur, and flesh to lean so heavily into their touch that they nearly collapsed into caretaker's arms.

[whump-or-whatever]

Whumpee finally coming to terms with the physical effects of what happened to them and learning to really love their body after something that altered it.

Juxtapose whumpee when they first start healing…

Seeing their injuries for the first time and staring at them in shock or maybe panicking

The anxiety as they start to heal and whumpee knows they’re not gonna look much better

The gut-wrenching reminders of what they went through every time they catch sight of their scars/injuries

Glaring at their injury/scar with contempt and disgust, hating that their body has been changed without them having any control over it

Worrying over how others will see them/what they will think

Wanting to hide away/cover up their scars so people won’t see

With when they’ve begun to accept/come to terms with/love their body again…

Looking at their injury/scar with a bittersweet smile knowing how far they’ve come in the aftermath

Looking at their scars with a grin, proud of themself for having overcome so much

Flexing or pulling at the skin around their scars, familiarizing themself with the new contours of their body

Testing out new limits and pushing themself to do things they weren’t sure they’d be able to do after their injury

Smiling when they catch sight of themself in a mirror

Wearing clothes that reveal their injury/scar

Associating their injuries/scars with the person they’ve become rather than what they went through

Getting a tattoo that doesn’t cover up their scars but incorporates them or even emphasizes them

Finding new pride and joy in their body as it is

[liar-or-lawyer]

[befuddled-calico-whump]

alone at last // Wildefire Masterlist

can't say if this scene is an AU or not, because I'm still tinkering with where the story goes, but I really wanted to draw it.

After the team breaks a disgraced Uriah out of prison, they end up on the run again. Through an unfortunate turn of events, Uriah and Alexei end up stranded together, and Lex soon finds that while it feels good in the moment, trying to take physical vengeance against Uriah just makes him feel like shit.

Wildefire Tag List:

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , and @turn-the-tables-on-them and @whumpwillow some Uriah whump lol

[veryspecificwhump]

imagine a tiny whumpee tied up and being dragged around like the little worms on string.

[corpwhump]

For your song game; Me and Mr Wolf by The Real Tuesday Weld

Perhaps a little unconventional, but:

Two whumpers that trade off being whumper and whumpee. Two whumpers that revel in a daytime game of cat-and-mouse, where they compete to see who will end up in chains that night.

A normal looking conversation at the bar between them in public conceals sly attempts to drug each other. Maybe they come home late at night to the other person lying in wait in their living room with a rag soaked in chloroform and cuffs hanging from their belt, hiding behind the door just waiting for it to open. Maybe the one who came home sees the faint imprints of boots on their normally spotless floor, and smirks a bit before grabbing a kitchen knife, ready to go out and meet their companion.

No matter who wins, after each night of screams from whoever was bested, the victim is let go, and a twenty-four hour grace period goes into effect for them to recover before the next game.

They both know it's dangerous, they both know that one of them is likely to die if they keep this up. But they love it. They can't resist egging each other on: it gets more dangerous every time they play.

A restaurant date conceals bandages beneath their sleeves, scars beneath a nicely-pressed collar. One of the whumpers absently plays with their steak knife; they know their drink was drugged when they left to go use the bathroom. They know the other whumper so well at this point that this version of the game has started to get predictable. Boring. Their date questions what they're thinking about.

They sigh, and then look up with a smile, a dangerous glint in their eye.

"You know what? Why don't we up the stakes a little."

[whumpberry-cookie]

hi i'm that trigun whump anon haha i'll call myself that XD trigun stampede has so much angst, it's like every week it gets worse ;_;

but if you will be interested in watching more, trigun anime from 1998 has more lighthearted, funny scenes and interactions! especially between vash and wolfwood, that's my fav ship so i kinda had to mention it ^^ but it still has angst and i mean it, especially in the second half of the anime. it has whump too!

98 anime is finished and it's just another adaptation/ alternative version of the story and it isn't any prequel to trigun stampede, so you can watch it on its own. it aired long before manga was finished so it differes from the source material (i didn't read manga yet but i'm definitely going to :))

Ahh!! You were so right, Trigun Whump Anon!

I love the show so much and my heart's bleeding at the same time fjjajfjanfjwjd

And thank you for letting me know! I'M IN SERIOUS NEED for some VashWood fluff/comedy/bonding moments. I'll watch the older version too for sure!!

(I also really enjoyed noticing these small moments when Vash's upside-down or his glasses reflect the light and it really gives the vibe of the design from 98)

I'm so happy we can be fangirling over this show together cnsnckajfjandndjsjxj!!!

VashWood's superior :)

[whumpster-dumpster]

A sweet/innocent/inexperienced/idealistic whumpee does not automatically make them a weak and stupid whumpee! They're unsuited to their harsh, twisted environment and that is in no way their fault! That environment shouldn't suit them because that environment shouldn't exist! They're not weak or stupid just because they don't naturally adapt to become cynical or hard-edged for survival! Retaining some measure of sweetness and innocence despite these conditions makes them stronger than you know!

[a-class-attempter]

Whumpee collapsed on the rough forest ground, their suit tattered and covered in dirt. They had been walking in the unforgiving heat for days without food or shelter, living off muddy river water. They just couldn’t do it anymore. After a few hours, a voice cut through the woods. “Whumpee? Why don’t you come back so we can have a chat.” Whumpee laid there, motionless. They would have cried if they had the energy.

Heavy boots crunched the leaves beneath them as Whumper walked over and kneeled by Whumpee’s side. “Oh, you poor little traitor.” They gripped Whumpee’s hair and forced them to make eye contact with Whumper. “You will never get away from me.”

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WHUMP PROMPTS INVOLVING COLLARS

trigger warnings: torture, dehumanization, blood and gore, PTSD (everything in this is entirely fictional meant to inspire writers)

whumper making whumpee wear a collar with whumper’s own name on it, so that everyone knows who owns whumpee.

collar that will only keeps on tightening around whumpee’s neck until whumpee says please.

prong collar. except instead of a dog, it’s wrapped around whumpee’s neck.

whumper having two different collars for whumpee, one with the words “good dog” engraved on it and the other with the words “bad dog”, depends on how whumpee behaves that day — whumpee is terrified whenever whumper puts the “bad dog” collar around their neck, because it means they will get punished; and so they try their very best to always be a “good dog”.

whumpee trying to remove their collar by themself by scratching and digging their nails into their skin until they bleed.

collar with barbed wires that bite into whumpee’s neck each time whumpee moves or breathes. the chances of infection and necrosis are high if left on and untreated for too long.

whumpee not being able to stop absentmindedly trace their fingers over their bruised neck where the collar used to be, no matter how long it’s been since their rescue.

post rescue. whumpee having difficult time speaking, eating or drinking water due to the bruises around their neck that were inflicted by the collar they were forced to wear — this could cause them to stop talking or eating, or it could cause them to talk and eat less.

whumpee wanting (needing) whumper to own them. they beg whumper to please put the collar on them again. please please please please don’t abandon them.

whumpee having been brainwashed into thinking that having a collar around their neck means they’re not a stray. thus they think caretaker is going to abandon them because caretaker didn’t put a collar around their neck like whumper did!!!!

whumpee having a panic attack. they’ve lost their collar; the collar was their shield telling others to fuck off because “this one is already taken”. but now there isn’t a collar around their neck anymore, they are going to scent an unowned meat, and they are going to crawl out of the shadows to feast on whumpee.

whumpee attacks whumper, but they are abruptly stopped when whumper activates whumpee’s shock collar, leaving whumpee convulsing helplessly on the floor.

whumpee having PTSD from the collar where they, even without the collar, think they cannot breathe and so they start panicking.

whumper telling whumpee to wrap a collar around whumpee’s own neck by themself. whumpee having no choice but to obey when disobedience only means excruciating pain. they’ve learned their lesson the hard way.

whumper making sure whumpee sees themself wearing a collar by holding up a mirror in front of them. “look at you. surrender suits you. you’re so pretty with a collar around your neck.”

whumper letting whumpee choose which collar they want.

whumper, upon recapturing whumpee, holds whumpee’s old collar in their hands as they slowly approach whumpee. the sight of the collar alone is enough to break whumpee down.

whumpee having an episode in which they attack every doctor and every nurse who’s trying to help them. caretaker hates to do this, but they have no choice but to threaten whumpee by saying they will have to put a collar on whumpee again if whumpee isn’t behaving, knowing what whumpee went through during their time with whumper. it works because whumpee, despite trembling like a leaf, stops trying to hurt themself and the hospital staff right away. and the fact it works breaks caretaker.

whumpee burning their collar after they escape whumper.

caretaker applying salve on whumpee’s neck to ease the pain caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumpee being extremely paranoid and not letting anybody get close to their neck, without having a panic attack, after their rescue. caretakers are trying their best because, in order to properly treat whumpee, they have to be able to inspect the damage on whumpee’s neck so that they can offer treatment accordingly.

whumpee feeling the needs to always wear a scarf to hide the bruises around their neck that were caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumper making whumpee say thank you and kiss the back of whumper’s hand each time whumper puts a collar on them.

whumper clasping a collar around whumpee’s neck without no warning, catching whumpee off guard. by the time whumpee realizes what’s happened, it’s already too late.

whumper giving whumpee a collar that matches whumper’s dog’s collar. so now whumper has two pets!

whumper pulling whumpee in for a kiss on the lips, by yanking the chain attached to the collar around whumpee’s neck, eliciting an involuntarily moan from whumpee.

whumper touching their hand to the collar around whumpee’s neck, running their finger over it and leaning in to breathe the scent of whumpee’s hatred, fear, and possibly arousal.

[whumpdreaming]

I love gun whump <3 don't blame me. I just think it's really awesome when a messy, panicking whumpee is rapidly bleeding out!! Especially if they're wearing a suit!! There's a bang and then suddenly they're on the floor in shock and holy shit they just got shot !! And especially continuing to panic as another character tries to comfort them, or still trying to limp away while bleeding everywhere. <3<3<3

[secretlythegodofdesire]

Weapon Prompt 3

Sensory Deprivation

Blindfolds, entrapping Whumpee in darkness

Gags, all whumpee can do is muffle mixed sounds, not being able to stop Whumper

Maybe it keeps their mouth open, ensuring they dehydrate fast, or perhaps the opposite, trapping something intrusive in their mouth

Headphones, playing blaring music making whumpee go deaf

Or perhaps repeating a soft mantra, slowly hypnotizing whumpee into to submission

Perhaps they play a loved ones blood curdling screams, bonus if their live and whumpee knows it

Those strap suits they use at mental hospitals, but instead whumpee is hung upside down in one for hours

Plugging their nose, forcing them to open their mouth or they pass out, then shoving the intrusive object in your mouth

Feeding yourself can become a privilege, feeding tubes, through nose or mouth become medical whump.

When using the bathroom becomes a reward

[i-eat-worlds]

Becoming obsessed with a whumpee being comtaminated by some sort of biological substance, and then being captured and quarantined in a government lab for study.

However, it turns out that the government was lying, and that is a way to treat whunpee’s “contamination” and they kept them ill for study, ruthlessly cutting them open and performing test after test. The group of people start a resistance to this, and eventually rescue whumpee.

After being broken out of the lab, whumpee is taken to a quickly thrown together isolation room. The walls are covered with thick plastic sheeting as is the floor. There’s an old hospital table at the center in it, and surrounded by all sorts of secondhand medical equipment. The caretakers, a group of renegade doctors and nurses and scientist, are all garbed up, in Tyvex suits and layers of gloves and respirators.

Even though they’re trying to help whumpee, they’re scared out of their mind. As far as they can tell, they’ve been kidnapped by a group of mad scientists who are going to perform more and more experiments, just like the last people in those outfits did.

Still, Whumpee can’t figure out why they are being so gentle. Why are their wounds being bandaged instead of cut open again? Why are the linens so soft? What are these “analgesics” they’re being given all the time? Why do the doctors seem unhappy with the pus leaking from their PICC line, or the heat around the tube from their stomach? Why are things being explained to them at all (even if they’re all lies)? And most of all…

Why are they feeling better?

[justbreakonme]

Signs of Change

Whumpee didn’t like it, when the seasons started to change. It still made him uneasy, knowing just how cold the nights could get and just how precarious his position could be. He was only safe as long as he was good, and the outdoors had no mercy.

But Caretaker did.

“Hey, Whumpee, why don’t you come in here? It’s warmer, since the stove’s going.” Caretaker’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he obeyed.

When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, the warmth enveloped him immediately. There was a large, silver soup pot boiling away on the stove, and the smell of onion and garlic and herbs and all sorts of things instantly made his mouth water.

“It needs to simmer for a bit longer, I think. Do you want to come sit with me?”

Whumpee nodded, and took a seat where he always did, across from Caretaker at the old wooden table.

“Not a talking day, huh?”

He shook his head, rubbing a fist in a circle over his chest.

Sorry.

“It’s fine, you’re good. I just like to check-in so I know.”

Whumpee couldn’t ever explain why sometimes words just, failed him. But, after his old owner, after being silent for so long, he sometimes felt…stuck.

“Do you feel like playing cards? I think we have enough time for a round of war…”

Whumpee nodded, dutifully turning to grab the cards from the little shelf in the corner. He liked cards. War was the first game they had played together, back when he’d first been bought rescued.

Caretaker had made it very clear that he wasn’t owned, anymore.

But he hoped maybe, maybe if he was really, really good, he could be. He had tried, once, to ask what he could do, if anything, to earn being owned again, but, the words had died in his mouth and he’d gone silent for days.

He understood why they didn’t want to own him, he wasn’t really worth very much. But, sometimes, he let himself believe that between him trying his very hardest and Caretakers inexplicable mercy, there might be a chance. Someday.

Caretaker handed him a stack of cards, and he brought the tips of his fingers to his chin, hand open and palm towards himself, then moved his hand out in front of him, almost in a swinging motion.

Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” Caretaker smiles as they play their first card, and he follows suit.

The game goes by quickly, and soon, the oven timer went off, making them both jump.

“Here, we’ll just scoot these over a bit and we can play while we eat. Would you grab the spoons?”

He nodded, carefully moving his pile of cards to the side and heading for the silverware drawer.

As Caretaker ladled out the soup, he placed a spoon at each of their spots, then, unsure if he should sit or wait for the next task, he hovered between the drawer and the table, wringing his hands.

As they turned to grab the bowls, they noticed his hesitation. “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring the bowls over.”

Another tap-then-outward gesture of thanks, and he sat back down, watching as they carefully ladled out two bowls of steaming soup.

Carefully, they carried one bowl at a time to the table, oven mitts on.

“Ooh- don’t try to hold it, it’s super hot.” Caretaker dodged where Whumpee had tried to help set the bowl down, instead opting to set it down on the edge and scoot it over so it didn’t spill.

He rubbed his fist over his chest in a circle again, more frantic this time.

Sorry, sorry!

“You’re good, I just didn’t want you to burn yourself,” they returned to the table with their own bowl, tossing the oven mitts onto the spare chair after settling in, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He tried to mimic Caretaker, who was blowing gently on their soup, but the lump in his throat got in the way.

He wished, as he often did, that he could speak without speaking, in more ways than literally. He wished he could make them know things.

If he was patient and waited for his voice to return, or if he went to get one of the whiteboards Caretaker kept laying around for him, he could tell him that he would do anything for them. That they had his loyalty and devotion, his mind, body, and soul.

But he couldn’t make them know it the way he did. It snuck up on him, in moments like these, then hit like a tsunami.

His stillness must have caught their attention because they looked up. “You okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard and smiling, then gave a timid thumbs up.

You don’t own me, but, I belong to you.

They grinned, giving him a thumbs up back, and another tsunami took his breath away.

But, that was fine. He’d let the soup cool on its own, and they would play cards, and for the first time in a very long while, he was able to forget the changing seasons and the morning frost.

It couldn’t touch him here.

Caretaker wouldn’t let it.

[whumpshaped]

concept: whumpee with a shock collar, except whumper uses it to program them into being affectionate and touchy and “sweet” until whumpee is terrified at a lack of physical touch and clings to whumper like they’ll die the second they let go. <3

and maybe if/when they get out of there, they’re shaking the whole time because whumper isn’t there to touch them!! and whumpee can’t ask caretaker to do it in their stead because good pets don’t ask for things. good pets sit there and take it. as they deserve.

- 🎉

tw conditioning, shock collar, electrocution, captivity, pet whump, intimate whumper, muzzled, dehumanisation

“Come on, sweet. I’m not asking for a lot here.”

Whumpee glared up at their captor, the muzzle making it impossible to cuss them out. They weren’t going to lay their head in that demon’s lap. No fucking chance.

“Nothing bad would happen to you,” they went on. “I would pet your hair, maybe, because I don’t think I can stand not to. But other than that? Nothing at all.”

Whumpee braced themself for the shock. They could withstand it. They had, for at least five times now. It wasn’t that bad.

“Okay, just one more thing, and then I’ll shut up and just shock you some more.” Whumper raised the remote, showing Whumpee the buttons. “You know there are multiple levels to this, right? And that you’re on level one right now?”

Okay. That… that didn’t cross their mind. Whumper must’ve seen their surprise, because they gave them a few more moments to consider their choice. When they didn’t comply, they sighed and turned it up a notch.

“Suit yourself.”

-

Whumpee had been glued to Caretaker’s side ever since the rescue. They were a shivery, trembling mess, babbling incoherently about how they needed Master, how they couldn’t go to prison, because they needed them, needed to be there in their lap, and at their feet, and in their bed, and under their desk. Wherever. It didn’t matter, so long as they got to touch them.

Caretaker let them babble, gently petting their hair whenever they broke down crying. It wasn’t the same. Caretaker didn’t have the remote. The collar wasn’t even around their neck anymore, not really, but they could feel it, the memory of the prongs digging into their skin and promising pain beyond comprehension.

They didn’t let Caretaker go anywhere without them. They were the clingiest pet, just as they’d been taught, and progress was very slow with all the panic attacks they’d been having whenever Caretaker tried to push them a little.

There was no collar to train them. No Master to tell them what was right and wrong. Only the maddening uncertainty of ‘I don’t know, Whumpee, I really think we should try again’.

They rubbed their bare neck, watching helplessly as Caretaker took a few steps away from their bed. They were cautious and slow, constantly murmuring praise as they went. They didn’t get to the door before Whumpee jumped out of bed and ran after them, collapsing at their feet in a sobbing, apologetic heap.

[whumpdrivethru]

can i get a whumpee in a straitjacket pls???? Thank you so much

Hi there! Coming right up! Thanks for choosing the Whump Drive Thru!

“Your latest escape attempt has irked me, to say the least,” Whumper drawled.

They approached Whumpee with something concealed behind their back.

“I do everything for you, give you all you could ever want,” they went on, “yet the moment my back is turned, you try to leave me. Why do you keep trying to leave me, Whumpee?”

The gag in Whumpee’s mouth kept them from answering, and the two agents holding them down on either side kept them from scuttling back in their chair. Whumper produced what they had been hiding from behind their back, and Whumpee visibly paled. A straitjacket, with buckles and straps going all the way down to the ankles rather than stopping at the waist. Without warning, Whumper and the two agents began to wrangle them into it, despite their muffled protests and pleas. By the time it was on, Whumpee had tears streaming down their face.

The agents zipped up the suit, and Whumper started to pull and buckle the straps. Whumpee squealed from the sudden compression- the straps were far too tight. Whumper circled them until they were right in front of them once again. They reached out a hand and wiped the tears from their face. Whumpee flinched hard, nearly toppling over.

“Oh Whumpee,” Whumper sighed, “do I have to give you a drug as well?”

Whumpee shook their head fervently. Whumper held up a hand, then nodded to their agents. One of them produced a syringe, handing it to Whumper.

“Mmph!” Whumpee pleaded desperately, new tears forming.

“Well I can’t give you a pill with that on,” Whumper said, tapping their gag, “I’m afraid this is the only way you can take your medicine.”

Whumper brushed Whumpee’s hair from their neck and injected the contents of the syringe into their system. Whumpee cried out through the gag, the sound never making it out of their throat.

“Shhh, all done,” Whumper said, kissing the injection site, “it’s alright now.”

Whumpee took shallow breaths through their nose which steadily became deeper as the drug sucked them down into a forced calm. They slumped forward in the chair, their hair falling like a curtain in front of their face.

Whumper nodded to the agents, who left the room. They scooped their captive up in a bridal carry and brought them over to the bed. They laid them down on the soft mattress, then started to apply the bed’s straps to their suit; this would keep Whumpee from falling out. Once that was done, they pulled the blankets up to their chin.

“Some time like this will help you reflect,” Whumper said gently, “I do hate to punish you so, but it’s necessary.”

Whumpee avoided Whumper’s gaze, their glassy eyes growing heavy. They wriggled in their excessive restraints, trying and failing to get free. In their stupor, they still tried to beg through the gag.

“Mmm…”

“I know I said I hate to punish you like this, but I must admit, you are adorable in this state,” Whumper said, carding a hand through Whumpee’s hair, “maybe your punishment should last a little longer.”

Thank you again for choosing the Whump Drive Thru! You have been served by Huffle! Have a wonderful day!