#whumpmas wish

[slippedtheknot]

Whumpmas Day "Three"

Wish + Denied Food as Punishment + Gilded Cage

Whumpee sniffed as he pulled his knees up to his chest, wishing for the smallest crumb. His stomach ached, and Whumper had all of the cupboards locked away. But...his stomach hurt so badly. If only he had something...anything.

"Whumpee," Whumper kicked the door as he was walking past, "I need you to make dinner now. Like, now now."

"Okay, sir." Whumpee said softly; grabbing ahold of the wall to pull himself up. Whumpee entered the hall, only to be remembered how bare his room was compared to the rest of the house.

He walked down to the kitchen; finding that Whumper had already set out ingredients. Whumpee's eyes landed on the small box of locally grown raspberries and his stomach let out a loud grumble. Whumper wouldn't notice if Whumpee had one, right?

He stuck his hand in, and searched for the smallest one. Whumpee pulled it out; holding it delicately in his palm.

"Hey!" A spatula came down hard on his hand. "What do you think you're doing?! I don't seem to remember giving you permission to eat?"

[emcscared-whumps]

WiJ 2023 - 11: What Whump Media do you Prefer and Why?

WiJ 2023 Navigation Post

Picky and Squicky

Okay, so I actually prefer writing and styalised, semi-realistic, and animation art as my mediums of whump.

I have a strong aversion to a lot of live-action whump and I can't place why other than that I am just a very squeamish person (a couple of months back, I cut my thumb, and passed out not once, but four (4) fucking times. You heard me right. I'm FUCKED lmao I WISH I was exaggerating)... ANYWAY ^-^'

We have established that I am squeamish, which means that any media with realistic blood and gore is automatically kinda gross rather than whumpy; instead of the fun stomach flips, I get the not-so-fun stomach unsettle. So, many T.V. shows and movies which many consider to be whumpy just don't do it for me, because even on the offchance that the character fits into my hyperspecific tastes in whumpees, it's unlikely it'll ever come to anything because of the way realistic effects sicken me (not negative, I mean very literally, almost lost my dinner once from a very realistic and talented portrayal of arsenic poisoning that I was NOT prepared for lmao).

I saw this gif once, a knife trailing across skin. Would've been absolutely gorgeous if it hadn't made my skin crawl like I scraped a knife badly across a ceramic plate for minutes afterward (:

All this to say that written, drawn, and animated mediums are the only media I reliably get whumperflies off, and even then, It's usually writing, or art, usually my own art because, again, I am very specific and I have a lot more context for an image I created myself ^-^' (usually a drawing of a whumpy idea).

Writing, art, and animation are safe, reliable, and they deliver for me, they allow the portrayals of my favourite kind of whumpees, I can go as niche as I want, and since most of the whump devouring I do is online, I can filter out a lot of the content I don't want to see uwu

[whumpmasinjuly]

Now introducing the prompt list for Whumpmas in July 2024! 

Thank you for patiently waiting! As a reminder, we will not be reblogging any creations on this blog and will instead keep this blog as a space to only post the prompts, tags, and relevant information. We will post the tag for each day, and we ask that you use two tags when filling prompts this year so that others may find your creations easily:  Tag 1 —> #wij24day__ (Fill in the blank with the appropriate day number for the prompt you are filling! For example, if you are doing the prompt for day 21, make sure to tag your post with #wij24day21.)

Tag 2 —> #whumpmasinjuly2024 Be sure to also tag @whumpmasinjuly-archive if you would like your posts reblogged to our new official archive account! Of course, feel free to use any other relevant tags too! You can also find a banner that you can use in your posts (if you want, not required) under the #wijbanner tag.

The prompts are divided into three categories: community (red boxes), question (green boxes), and creation (white boxes). Everyone is free to participate as much or as little as they want–there’s no completionist requirement! This list provides a preview of the prompts, but on each day a more detailed post will be released with more context and additional suggestions for each day’s task. Similar to previous years, all prompts and other important information will be found under the #infowhumpmasinjuly tag and #infowij24 for ease of access. This blog will also use the tags #wijquestion , #wijcommunity , and #wijprompt respectively for each post so that you can filter and find the type of prompts you’d like to do. 

Below the cut is a text list of this year’s prompts:

1. (Re)Introduce yourself 2. What are your top three favorite whump tropes? 3. "______ deserved it" 4. Post a whump prompt for someone else to fill on Day 28 5. Share a TV show, movie, or any media that gives you the whumperflies! 6. Left Behind 7. Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time! 8. Describe your favorite type of whumper 9. Mind Games 10. Check out a new whump blog and drop them an ask 11. What songs/playlists are perfect for whumpy daydreaming? 12. Caught 13. Share some of your favorite niche whump tags! 14. Describe the ideal fic you've always wanted to read, but have yet to find/haven't written yet. 15. A Soft Reprieve 16. Create a whump meme! 17. What has been your most recent whump obsession? 18. "Or else" 19. Create a list of some of your favorite whump blogs to share! 20. What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media? 21. Abandoned 22. Find a story/author you've never engaged with before, and leave some nice comments! 23. What is your favorite type of whump setting? 24. Denial 25. Share a sneak peek of something you're working on 26. Describe your favorite type of whumpee 27. Delirium 28. Fill someone's whump prompt from Day 4 29. When did you get your first whumperflies? 30. "I'm here" 31. Who is someone in the whump-creating world that you admire and why?

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim x Catharsis - Kane & Luan

K&J chronological masterlist / K&J writing order masterlist

Catharsis masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, escape, begging, starvation, caretaking, dubious caretaker, whumpee turned caretaker, death wish, suicide attempt, recapture, torture, gore, burns, rescue, brief self-harm for vampire feeding purposes, side robot whumpee

Whumpmas in July Day 15: A Soft Reprieve

the first time i've ever done a crossover between two different series of mine! this one's been living in my brain rent-free. massive props to @sowhumpshaped for inspiration!

-

Luan’s heart practically stopped when he looked through the doorbell camera to find a vampire.

The camera  wouldn’t matter if it was a vampire. The door wouldn’t matter if it was a vampire. He would be taken, again, this time manhandled from his own apartment. The fact that he couldn’t sleep all night was the only reason he had this last moment of freedom.

“Stay back,” he said through the speaker, trying not to let his voice shake like his hands as he clumsily looked up the number for the local hunters. There was no way they’d get here in time, not even with their base just down the road. Not with a vampire’s speed.

“Please,” the vampire whimpered, kneeling on his doormat. “Please help me, I beg of you. I’m not a threat, I promise, please don’t call the hunters, I’ll do anything!”

Now that Luan really looked, he could see beyond the bright-red of his eyes and the intimidating fangs: the figure at his door was… not well. Clearly emaciated, a feeling Luan knew all too well. He could see what looked like burns, and what were definitely cuts. Tears tracked from terrified, desperate eyes.

“What do you want?” Luan snapped, thumb hovering over the dial button.

“Please, please, sir, I can’t find anything to end myself, the sun is coming, they’re going to find me, please, mercy, I can’t go back, please help me!” the vampire begged, weeping into his hands. “I can’t use persuasion, I promise, I wouldn’t even if I could!”

It was objectively stupid. It was going to get him killed or worse. If Luan opened this door, that would be the end of it. The vampire would take one look at him, use persuasion, and his freedom would be gone again, just like that.

There was no faking the way his stomach turned inward like that, worse than Luan had ever been. If Luan had ever starved that badly, he suspected he would have died.

Would there be any point to a vampire going to these lengths just to trick him, when he could have just used persuasion from the first moment?

“One minute. Stay there.” He dashed to find something, ending up with a ruler he hasn’t dug out in years. Sawing at it with a kitchen knife made something resembling a stake, though he knew in his heart that it likely wasn’t strong enough to get through flesh. He just had to hope it would be intimidating enough.

Luan hesitated. Was he really going to do this? Let a starving vampire into his home?

He looked through the camera again, at the pitiful man collapsed on his porch.

He opened the door, makeshift stake in hand. “Get inside.”

The vampire scrambled in, crouching like a cornered animal on his floor, panting hard. “Th-thank you, sir. Thank you so much. Please don’t call them, please, I just–”

“You can stay the daytime and that’s it.” It wouldn’t be the first time Luan had stayed awake a full 24 hours. He could do it again. “At sunset, you leave, and you don’t come back. You never take a human. Agreed?” He pointed the stake at the vampire with both hands. “Try anything and it’s the stake.”

What Luan wasn’t expecting was for the vampire to look up at him with utter adoration. “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I’ll be good, I promise, thank you so much! You can kill me if you’d like, I don’t mind, I won’t resist. Whatever you want.”

Luan slowly lowered the stake. “That’s… probably not necessary.” A look around the room. The sun would start rising in a few minutes, he had to act fast if he was really offering this vampire refuge. “Go wait in the bathroom,” he pointed, “There’s no windows in there.”

“Yes, sir!” The vampire started to run, but tumbled over himself, collapsing to the floor. Before Luan could react, he picked himself up to his hands and knees, crawling quickly to the bathroom and closing the door.

“Jesus,” Luan muttered. The blinds were already closed, always closed, but he knew some light could trickle in through the gaps.

What to do next? He knew what he wanted next when he was rescued. To feel safe, to feel free, to feel in control, to know Cyrus couldn’t hurt him anymore. Food, water, blankets, a fucking warm shower. Home.

What had even happened to the vampire to make him like this?

In the end, he gathered up some sweats and sneakers he wouldn’t miss–he wasn’t going to make the vampire run home half-naked and barefoot when sunset came–and a blanket, then knocked on the door, stake stowed in his pocket. “Hey.”

“Yes?” the vampire called back.

Luan opened the door, finding the vampire huddled in the bathtub. “Brought you some stuff. You can use the bath and whatever too if you want, you know.”

The vampire’s eyes widened as Luan set the bundle down on the edge of the sink. “Thank you, sir! That’s so kind of you! Thank you so much!”

“Mm-hm.” It felt good to be the one in control. Safe, somehow, even with a vampire.

He wanted to ask what happened to him, but he hated when people asked for details. Those fucking true crime junkies. If the vampire wanted to talk, he would talk.

“I’m Luan,” he offered. “You?”

“M-my name is Kane. No one’s asked me that in a very long time.” The vampire stared at him like some kind of divine being.

“Alright, Kane. Glad this isn’t going to shit immediately. I’ll be… out there. Knock if you need anything, I guess.”

“Yes, sir!”

With that, Luan let him be. The vampire did not return, staying locked in there well after his shower ended. As the hours ticked by, he couldn’t keep his mind off the vampire in the bathroom. How could he?

Food. He was probably hungry. Starving, if his appearance was anything to go by. Luan knew that feeling, the never-satisfied clawing in his gut.

He pinched at his skin. He had blood to go around, didn’t he? Just once.

Luan knocked at the door. “Kane? You doing okay in there?”

“Yes, sir,” came the vampire’s muffled voice, “Do you need something?”

“You need something,” Luan corrected. “I’m gonna feed you some blood. Open up.”

The door opened fast, Kane’s wide, red eyes greeting him. “You would give me blood?” he asked in a hushed whisper, the blanket still wrapped around him.

“Yeah. Here.” Luan held out his arm. That’s where they did blood draws at the doctor’s, right? “I know you’re hungry. Go ahead.”

Kane burst into a huge, fanged grin. “Thank you, sir!” He took Luan’s arm gingerly, with a gentleness he wouldn’t have expected from a monster of the night. Deciding on the wrist, he bit in slowly, carefully at first.

As soon as he broke the skin, all that gentleness disappeared.

The vampire bit in hard, making Luan wince at the pain of it. But he’d expected pain. It was a goddamn vampire bite, of course it was gonna hurt. He grit his teeth and bore it. He’d had worse.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he announced as he started to feel woozy. “I get you’re hungry, I wanna help, but I’m not a buffet.”

Kane paid him no mind, continuing to gulp down mouthfuls of blood, eyes wild.

Luan’s heart began to race, either from the depleting blood or the sudden terror or both. Suddenly, he wasn’t in control anymore, and that meant the vampire could do anything to him. It wasn’t like with the robot, who had to follow his orders. This was a vampire. What was he in comparison to that? He was powerless. He was–

No. Not again. He would not be that helpless thing again.

Luan hit the vampire as hard as he could, bringing his fist down on the back of his head. “I said stop!”

Kane reeled back, his bloody fangs tearing from skin, the blow jerking him back to reality. Landing clumsily on the floor, he looked up in horror as he realized what he had just done.

“I’m sorry!” he cried. “I’m s-so sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to, I swear, I was just so hungry I couldn’t control myself, I’m sorry!”

His eyes grew watery, his breaths quick and panicked. Kane backed away on the floor, cowering against the tub. “Please just k-kill me, please kill me, I’ll be good, I won’t resist, please, please, I’m sorry, I can’t, please kill me!”

Luan clutched his bleeding arm, staring at the pathetic creature before him. Was that what he’d looked like?

“You’re fine. Just don’t do it again or it’s the stake,” he said firmly. He was in control again. He got to make the rules.

“Please don’t call them,” Kane begged. “I’ll do anything, sir.”

“You’re fine,” Luan repeated. He picked the blanket up off the floor, having fallen in the chaos, and draped it back over the vampire. He instantly clung to it, his shaky hands curling tight in the fabric.

“Th-thank you, sir.” Kane gasped. “Thank you, thank you, I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Luan grabbed a box of bandages out of the cabinet and left, closing the door behind him. He was sure the both of them would feel better that way.

-

Luan woke up to insistent knocking at his door.

He wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. There was a fucking vampire in his apartment. As soon as his head was clear enough to realize, he bolted upright, looking to the still-closed bathroom door, then to the window.

The evening sun still filtered through the blinds: it was still daylight, at least for a few hours more.

“Who is it?” he asked, unlocking his phone. An emergency alert from hours ago plastered the screen before he could check his doorbell camera: VAMPIRE IN AREA.

“I’m with the local vampire hunters. We just wanted to ask some questions,” the man at the door said.

Not a sound came from the bathroom.

It would be more suspicious if he didn’t answer the door, right? Luan opened it. “What questions?”

“We were holding a vampire in the base a few streets down when it escaped last night. This one can’t hypnotize you, and we had it pretty weakened, but it’s still dangerous–caught it before it could take anyone, thankfully. We know it couldn’t have gotten far, already combed outside. It has to have snuck into someone’s home, so we’ve been making the rounds before it can escape come nightfall. Have you seen anything suspicious?”

“...Take anyone?” Luan asked, the floor falling out from under him.

“Yep,” the hunter nodded, “When we caught it, it already had someone. Almost got away with her, too. If that thing managed to get her over the border, that’d be it. Last thing we want is for that to happen again. Luckily, we’ve got the sun on our side.”

How could he have been so stupid? Of course a vampire wouldn’t be in human territory for any good reason. Kane had already gotten a taste for his blood. He was just a few hours away from being lured into captivity again, and this time, there’d be no one to save him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Luan grit his teeth, chest tight. Cyrus would never let him hear the end of it if he knew. “He–he tricked me,” he mumbled. “He’s in the bathroom.”

“Fuck. Least we caught it before sundown. Read up some on vampire safety,” the hunter instructed him, strolling inside.

The bathroom was no longer silent.

A sob accompanied the frantic scratching of nails against wood for only a moment before the hunter yanked the door open, the shitty lock giving way on only the third try.

“No! No, please, I was out!” Kane screamed, clawing at the sink cabinet ever-harder. “Please, please, mercy! I can’t! I was out!”

“Behave yourself,” the hunter spat, and Kane and Luan both flinched. He grabbed the vampire by the hair. “Come quietly and you get a tarp, not that you deserve that much after the stunt you fucking pulled today. Make a fuss and it’s the sun.”

Kane wailed, a cry of anguish so long and deep Luan thought it might never end. When it did, a shaking Kane wrapped his arms around himself. “I’ll be good, sir,” he whispered, eyes distant.

He offered no resistance as the hunter dragged him away, only tears.

Alone once more, Luan knew he’d made the only choice he could to protect himself, but the tightness in his chest didn’t go away.

-

In the coming weeks, Luan couldn’t get the vampire out of his mind.

Even taking it out on the robot didn’t help, not that it ever really did. He found himself turning it on less and less, leaving it in the closet. Seeing Cyrus’s face just made him feel worse.

The hunters had to have killed Kane, right? That would be fine. Humanity would be safe from him if they did that, and Kane had been begging for it, anyway. What reason would they have to keep him alive?

Luan knew the answer to that better than most.

One call to the hunters confirmed it: the vampire was alive, though they promised ‘improved security’.

“Can I see him?” he blurted out.

It took some convincing, but Luan was able to secure himself an appointment.

-

“Keep away from the bars,” the hunter leading him downstairs instructed. Down, down, down. Concrete walls, concrete floor. Luan fought the urge to run. “You can talk with it for five minutes. Get some closure on whatever it was doing in your place. I’ll escort you back up later.”

“Mm-hm,” Luan agreed.

At the bottom of the stairs was a cell, and in the cell was a metal trunk. Luan dug his nails into his palm.

“It might look a little gnarly, but remember, these things aren’t human. They heal like that.” The hunter snapped his fingers. “Wait here.”

The hunter unlocked the cell, then the trunk. “Out.”

The lid flung open, a skinny, burnt hand retracting as soon as it appeared. Kane climbed out of the trunk, landing in a mess on the floor.

He was much worse-off than Luan remembered him. In only six weeks, the clothes he’d given him had become so torn and bloodstained as to be practically unrecognizable. Nearly all the skin he could see was burnt, his face a mess of severe welts. He looked to Luan with utter terror in his eyes, far more than the robot could ever hope to mimic.

“H-hello, sir,” Kane stammered.

Luan had to run. He knew he was safe, he wasn’t a vampire, but the danger emanating from every crack of this place was far greater than any he’d felt with a vampire cowering in his bathtub.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

“I’m s-sorry,” Kane continued, clutching at his shirt. “Please, please, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Luan asked. “Why are–”

“Please don’t take the clothes away! I’ll do anything!” Kane bowed his head, trembling. “Anything, anything, p-please, I need them, I’m so sorry, please! They’re the only thing protecting me from the silver!”

He picked his head up to look back at the trunk and then Luan with a sob. “Please, I know I don’t d-deserve it, I’m sorry, but please, please, I’m trying. I won’t run again, I’m sorry!”

“They’re yours,” Luan assured him quickly. “I’m not… taking them. That’s not why I’m here.”

Kane let out a massive, shaky exhale, the grip on his shirt still tight. “Thank you for your m-mercy, sir. Thank you for letting me keep them. Thank you for giving me one good day. I treasure it, sir. It–it was the best day I ever had. What can I do for you?” He looked up, eyes shining and watery.

Luan turned and ran.

-

He brought the robot out that night. No one else had the guts to tell him what a piece of shit he was. No one else who wasn’t in prison.

Luan didn’t tell Russ what happened. He didn’t need to. The robot did its job, and by the time he was done, his knuckles hurt. The robot winced as Luan reached down to switch it off, then fell limp.

He called the cops. They didn’t care. It wasn’t a crime to hurt a vampire.

Luan thought about moving, but he didn’t. Instead, he did the opposite, took long walks out to the hunters’ base with his hand on the unused pepper spray in his pocket. It was just a building, as far as he could see, but he knew Kane was in there. Someone had to know.

Until one day, Kane was outside.

He was strapped to a propped-up metal board, baking in the sun, the clothes Luan had given him gone. It was the least human he’d ever looked: his skin boiled like sugar syrup on a stovetop in some places, crisped like burnt marshmallow in others.

There was no one else out there.

He ran home, came back even quicker with his car, and hopped the fence. Barbed wire tore at his skin, but didn’t slow him down. Kane writhed, pulling at his bound wrists.

“I’m getting you out of here,” Luan whispered, taking bolt cutters to his shackles. Kane fell to the ground, letting out a muffled shriek as his yet-untouched back set ablaze.

He didn’t have time to be careful. He hauled Kane up–he hardly weighed anything–and threw him over the fence, following quickly.

Tossing the vampire into his trunk, he added, “Don’t say you’re sorry if you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. You’re going home.”

Kane’s mangled face was unreadable, but Luan could have swore he saw him relax just a little amid the pain.

-

Luan drove. He couldn’t go home yet, that much he knew. They’d find him in a heartbeat. He drove as far away from that place as he could get, the cargo in his trunk surprisingly quiet.

When he’d gotten a few hours away, he found a secluded corner of a parking garage and popped the trunk.

“Easy, it’s me,” Luan shushed when Kane started to cower. “We’re far away. Here.”

Kane’s mouth was sealed shut, his lips fused together by the heat of the sun. It took some prying, but he managed to get them unfused. Kane didn’t seem to mind, not even when his skin tore and bled.

There were no fangs in his mouth.

Whatever. That wouldn’t stop him. He grabbed his pocketknife from the glove compartment and slashed his palm open. Kane writhed again, a desperate whine dragged from his throat, but stopped when Luan made a fist over his waiting mouth and squeezed.

“Drink up,” he encouraged. He kept going for a while, eventually bringing his hand to Kane’s mouth to let him lick the excess blood from it. His hand left scabbed over, as if it had been healing for hours rather than minutes.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Kane rasped, his voice hoarse. “Thank you, I’ll b-be good this time. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Oh, he’d screwed this guy up bad. Another achievement in his worthless fucking life.

“Who should I contact about getting you home?” he asked. Time to get straight to the point. “Any vampire who could come here when it’s night and get you?”

Kane was silent for a moment. “Bellamy Verta,” he said eventually. “S-safe. Safe for humans.”

The guy wasn’t hard to find, and from what his profile said, he sure seemed to live up to safe for humans. His profile linked to a website that looked like PETA for vampires.

“I’m sending a DM. He’s probably asleep right now, but he’ll probably see it when he wakes up,” Luan reported.

Kane wept, blubbering gratitudes.

-

Luan cleared the area an hour before Verta was set to arrive. No matter how innocent his page looked, he wasn’t taking any chances. He left the trunk closed so no one would find Kane besides the one who was supposed to, not that he expected vampire hunters to be prowling an unpopulated parking garage in the middle of the night. Not exactly prime vampire ground. He was sure Verta would be able to figure out opening it.

He didn’t go back to the car until he got an emoji-filled DM back from Verta with a picture of what looked like Kane’s attempt at a smile.

His trunk had a hand-shaped dent in it, not that he really gave a shit. By the time he got home, it was almost sunrise. He really had to do something about his sleeping before Monday.

Luan stared blearily at the closet.

He opened it, turned on the robot. Russ flinched back at his touch, looking up at him with a harsh glare. “What?” he spat.

Luan unplugged the charger and shoved it into Russ’s hands before backing away. “You can go.”

Russ opened his mouth, then closed it, the glare melting from his face. He turned and ran through the door without a word, off into the sunrise.

It felt better than any time Luan had hit him.

taglist in reblogs

event: @whumpmasinjuly

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 20: character you wish was whumped

oh man, this is a relatable one!!! how often have we seen a character we wish was hurt more and never got the goods in canon? 😩😩😩 (oh well, that's what fanfiction is for, hehe).

gonna specifically drag my nostalgia out of the closet here for the question "is there a dead whump fandom you hope to be revived" and remind y'all of the national treasure series (aka my entire childhood). do you all remember this guy?

riley poole, my beloved 😍💖😍💖😍💖

obsessed doesn't begin to cover how i felt about this little freak. god, i loved imagining him in Situations, reading about him in Situations, put 👏 that 👏 nerd 👏 in 👏 Situations!!! 👏

emotional whump cause he's routinely accidentally under appreciated? yes. physical whump cause he's small and ancillary and can be tormented for information? yes. threatened because the protagonists love him? yes. fellas, i was writing fanfiction about him before i owned an electronic device. he just compelled me so!! 💖😍

due to the adventure-comedy bent of the series, we never really got to see any blood but god, i wish our fanfiction could get more gritty with it, ya know? revive the national treasure fandom so I can put this guy in more situations with more people, is what i'm saying.

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[whumpmas]

12 Days of Whumpmas Prompt List

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already.

The AO3 Collection can be found here.

There are 24 prompt options and 30 tropes in total! Pick one or both for each day and combine with any trope. Interpretation can be specific or very loose.

(All prompts and tropes can be found below the cut!)

12 Days of Whumpmas 2023 Prompt List

Day 1: Christmas lights / Christmas Card

Day 2: hot chocolate / white

Day 3: mistletoe / wish

Day 4: at the mall / Santa

Day 5: red / Christmas tree

Day 6: present / sugar cookie

Day 7: snow / fireplace

Day 8: candles / family tradition

Day 9: Christmas carols / bow

Day 10: unwrapped / icicle

Day 11: Christmas dinner / bell

Day 12: midnight mass / Cheers!

Tropes list:

Exposure

Bruises

Force feeding

Duct tape

Forced to beg

Gilded cage

Touch starved

Kidnapping

Prison visit

Caught in a storm

Burns

Domestic abuse

Bound and gagged

Damaged vocal cords

Stockholm syndrome

Forced to kneel/bow

Poison

Used in ritual

Childhood trauma

Denied food as punishment

Truth serum

Pneumonia

Don't let them see you cry

Drugged

Alternative (milder) prompts:

Can't go home

Flashbacks

Cough syrup

Hallucinations

Memory loss

Nightmares

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

Whumpmas in July 2024 - Day 7 - Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time!

This post is part of my participation in the 2024 @whumpmasinjuly event!

-----

Ah, it's hard to pick a favorite! Here are a few that I really enjoyed:

Gallery AU (Keith and Shiro from VLD fanfic) by @trytofocus - Keith is a prisoner in a secret, highly prestigious gallery where subjects are displayed in all manners of artful bondage for the entertainment of rich patrons. Shiro is one such patron. And he isn't nice. (Be warned that this fic is 18+, as it contains adult elements and themes, and is NSFW) Why I love it: God, the mental images are SO GOOD. The way that Keith is treated as a living, breathing, unwilling art piece... the emotions, the way things are described, the care and reverence taken in tying him up and putting him on display, the way that Shiro appreciates him, the attitude that Keith gives... It's so freaking good, and it gives me crazy whumperflies. I wish there was more!

Death Valley (also on AO3) by @ashintheairlikesnow - In 2003, Finn Schneider left Germany for a month-long planned trip around the United States. Somewhere around Death Valley, he disappeared. But he wasn't alone. (Be warned that this fic is 18+, as it contains noncon, murder, and is NSFW) Why I love it: This was the second whump fic that I ever read, and it was integral in getting me into the whumpsphere! I feel SO SO SO bad for Finn, what he goes through, and how he is in his future. It's one of those stories that makes me go "OH NO BB LET ME FIX IT FOR YOU ;A;" but this poor guy has seen and been through far too much. It's brutal. Even the flash forward has me on the edge of my seat and only wanting the best for him. I hope this poor man finds love, joy, and peace.

Brother's Keeper by @darkthingshappen - Ben Adkins' life changes forever when his brother Jake fails to pay what is owed to some powerful men. Will he be able to survive his harrowing experience and return to his family? (Be warned that this fic is 18+, as it contains explicit noncon and is NSFW) Why I love it: Phew, this one is intense! It's one of those fics that made me go "OH DAMN." a lot. I actually had to read this one out of order a bit because (spoilers) thereʻs a recovery arc... followed by a recapture arc. I had to save some of the recovery arc to read when things got too tough and I needed some joy for the characters, because GEEZ. Poor Ben!! Poor Jake! Poor Andrei! Volkov and his guys are sick SOBs and just merciless. Itʻs so whumpy. I had to skip a chapter or two due to some of my own personal squicks, but other than that, if youʻre looking for some guys having a super bad time, this is a great fic for that!

King of The Road by @darkthingshappen - George and Danny find themselves in the hands of a very sick and twisted trucker. What will happen to them as his newest victims? (Be warned that this is fic 18+, as it contains explicit noncon and is NSFW) Why I love it: The trucker is horrible!! An absolutely evil vile terrible sick guy!!! I have to know what happens to George and Danny! Thereʻs not much of the fic yet, but Iʻm frothing at the mouth waiting for more. The brutality is so whumperiffic, and I already desperately want to save them, so you know things are on a good track!

Secrecy by @doomeddestination - A young spy is captured by a mysterious man known only as Shepard. (Be warned that this fic is 18+, as it contains explicit noncon and is NSFW) Why I love it: Calico is such a great writer, and her dedication to her stories and characters is INSANE. This story was the first one of hers that I read, and it introduced me to Ander, who is another character that I simply wish to wrap in a blanket and give tea to and take care of forever. This poor guy just needs a break. Shepard is awful, and the suspense in the story is so great. Thereʻs a whole multitude of AUs and stories that contain these characters as well, so lots of stuff to check out! ... ... ... If Ander never gets to canonically see his mom again, I will riot in the streets. LET A GOOD THING HAPPEN TO HIM.

The Mountain Man by @darkthingshappen - A kidnapper has his sights on a hockey player and sets a plan into motion to get him into his clutches. Why I love it: Getting into the head of the whumper as he stalked and planed his capture was so cool. I loved the confusion and delirium that the hockey player showed, especially when things started to get scary. I think this story was meant to be a one-shot, but Iʻd gladly dig into more of it if it got continued!

Hazel's story by @starrywhump - A group of college students is kidnapped by a sadistic whumper who has no qualms about torturing them. Why I love it: This was the FIRST whump fic I ever found and read! I wouldnʻt be in the community now if not for this fic. I have no idea how I stumbled across it, but Iʻm so glad I did, because it introduced me to whump lingo, whump blogs, and this whole crazy world. I love the characters, the whumper is creepy and intimate, and some of what she does is just nasty and brutal. I donʻt know what happened to the author (the blog hasnʻt been updated in like three years), but I hope that theyʻre happy and doing well wherever they are. I love the fic, and would love to read more if they ever decided to continue!

There are so so so many other great fics out there, but these are just the few that come to mind off the top of my head! Any other fans of these stories out there? :O

---

Tags: @whumpmasinjuly-archive

[whumpninja]

I am not going to finish on time but whateveeeeer-

Featuring: elf whumpee, royal whump, tense and awkward conversations, fantastic racism I guess? Is that what I’ve done? Whoops

Taglist: @whumperofworlds @melpomenelamusa

Prompt used: fire and ice

Part One | Part Two

——————————————————————————

Twelve Days of Whumpmas Day Three: Hollyoak, Part Three

The first time he had been taken to the Summer Realm, Kelyn had been much younger, and he had comforted himself by imagining that he could see something of his father in the lines of King Aritz's face. The two could not be more different- King Cyprian had warm brown skin, flowing white hair, no beard, and large antlers long since turned white with age. King Aritz had skin nearly the same shade of greenish-brown as his son if a bit darker, a red-brown beard curling over his chest, and small round horns that were still deep brown. But when he was younger, Kelyn had truly believed that he could make out the same gentle expression in the Oak King's eyes as he always saw in his father's.

He had soon learned better.

"King Aritz." Kelyn inclined his head to the Summer Elf, who was technically his host even though Kelyn was there by ritual and not exactly by invitation.

"Young Holly." King Aritz smiled rather woodenly. Somehow his calling Kelyn "Holly" in his deep, serious voice didn't sound at all the same as when Adaire jovially did it. King Aritz had also omitted Kelyn's title of prince, which he was supposed to keep even though the Crown had passed to the Summer Realm. Deliberately? Kelyn wondered, before dismissing the thought as a foolish one.

Kelyn fumbled for his staff, intending to stand, but the Oak King waved a hand. "No need, no need. I won't be long." He stepped into the room, his hands folded behind his back. "I wanted to ask you about your father, young Holly. He seemed quite well at the Tree. Is he?"

Kelyn blinked, taken aback. "Yes, I-I think so."

"Good, good. He looked stronger, too. You know, neither him nor I are getting any younger. But he almost seemed to be. I thought perhaps he might have...indulged his magic too much, while the Crown of Realms was in his possession."

Slowly, Kelyn leaned down to pick up his staff. He did not speak while he slipped off the edge of the bed and adjusted his weight onto the staff's carved tip. He waited for King Aritz to notice that he had not replied, pulling himself up to his full height as best as he could. He was suddenly glad that his antlers had come in taller this year than any other- they gave him a few extra inches of height, and he secretly thought that they lent him an air of dignity too.

When the Oak King turned to see why he had gone silent, Kelyn imagined that it was his father speaking through him- the wise, grave king and not the quiet, anxious prince. "Do you suspect King Cyprian of stealing magic, sir?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral. It could not sound like an accusation.

King Aritz scowled fiercely at Kelyn. "Certainly not. I am merely pointing out that he looked uncommonly well for someone whose power is supposed to have begun fading immediately. It is the Summer Realm's turn to grow to full strength. I do not wish to see it usurped."

"The Winter Realm has held no interest in the affairs of the Summer Realm since the Truce."

"That is good, since it was the Winter Realm that caused us to have to make it in the first place." King Aritz paced across the floor of Kelyn's room, his steps heavy and his voice sharp.

Kelyn was taken aback. King Aritz had never seemed to like him much, but he had never been so openly hostile before. "Is something wrong, King Aritz?" he ventured. "You seem troubled. I can assure you that it is not my father's doing, but if I can help in some way-"

"Silence, calf," King Aritz boomed.

Kelyn's eyes went wide. Calf was a disgraceful insult towards Winter Elves, a demeaning reference to the antlers they all had. He had never had it used against him before- even some of the Summer Elves that made it known that they did not appreciate his presence had never dared to use it...at least in his hearing.

King Aritz seemed to realize he had gone too far. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his loose brown hair. "I am sorry for saying that. I should not have let my temper get the better of me." He glanced at Kelyn. "My enmity with the Winter Realm was caused long before you were born, and I should not have directed my...frustration towards you. I will have a gift made for you as soon as I can."

Kelyn nodded his acceptance. Summer Elves sealed many things- such as deals, promises, and apologies- with gifts. He'd rarely been on the receiving end of them, but if he did not accept then it would mean that he had not forgiven the Oak King, and that would be seen as unfathomably rude.

Perhaps, since Kelyn was a Winter Elf, it might even spark a new war.

The thought was a frightening one. Kelyn had been born only a few years before the end of the war; he had been too small to remember the signing of the Trucepact and the cessation of hostilities. But he knew that both realms still carried the scars- the Summer Realm's edges were still dead and blasted from frosty winds, and patches of the Winter Realm had never regrown from the floods that had occurred as a result of sunlight they were not used to. Fire and ice, that was what the war had been. Summer and winter, constantly clashing. The rift was still not fully healed.

That was why Kelyn was here. The Trucepact had become more of a formality, a rite. But in the beginning, it was understood that the king whose turn it was to hold the power kept his rival's son hostage in case the other king rose up against him. That was no longer explicitly the case, but sometimes Kelyn wondered if the older elves had truly forgotten.

King Aritz moved to the door, then stopped, turning at the last moment. "I am holding a feast tonight," he said. "To celebrate my son Prince Adaire's return." Was it Kelyn's imagination, or did he stress the word prince just a little too much? "I would like to ask you to join us, though of course you may decline."

"I would be honored," Kelyn replied.

King Aritz nodded stiffly and, finally, left.

Kelyn sat back down hard, leaning his staff against the end of the bed. "Oh, Father," he breathed. "Why do I feel as though I've made an enemy?"

[seasons-beatings]

Happy holidays, @where-is-my-whump!

From your gifter: Merry whumpmas! :)

A 2024 Season's Beatings gift from @wollemi-whump to @where-is-my-whump

Firm hands grabbed Whumpee and dragged them towards the car in the alley. They thrashed, trying to escape the grip, but their attackers held them tight, pinning them against the car. One yanked Whumpee's wrists behind their back and wrapped their hands with duct tape as they continued to struggle. Whumpee kicked out and shouted as their voice found them, but their cries were cut off as they were shoved into the car, the door slamming before Whumpee could recover.

The car peeled out of the alleyway and began to speed down the dark city roads. They were being kidnapped, oh god, they'd been kidnapped. Lifted off the street like a stray dog and ready to be put down like one. Panic seized them and they screamed again, shouting for help.

"HEY!” One of the thugs shouted, and Whumpee fell silent. The thug cocked their gun, aiming it straight at Whumpee. "Knock it off or I'll give you something to really scream about," they said.

Whumpee sucked in a ragged breath and leaned back against the seat. They clenched their fists and tried to steady themself. God, who the hell were these people?

They snuck a glance at the thug next to them. A black ski mask disguised their face and black clothes hid their form in the dim light. The gun strapped to their side, though, was visible as ever. The two other thugs occupying the front seats wore the same attire, guns included. The driver's eyes caught Whumpee's wandering ones in the rear-view mirror and scowled. Whumpee's gaze darted away and locked onto the road.

Yellow lights blurred by them until they vanished all together and the cityscape opened up to grassy moonlit plains.

Whumpee mustered the strength to sit up and gather their voice. "Where are you taking me?"

The thug next to them turned and cocked their head towards Whumpee. "Disneyland."

Whumpee grimaced, and their face turned a slight shade of red. They weren't going to get anything out of their captors.

"I think you missed a turn then," Whumpee replied with a tinge of annoyance.

A chuckle sounded from the front seat, and they tensed, momentarily regretting speaking. "Who knew we picked up a comedian?" the thug huffed.

The backseat thug growled, and Whumpee inched back towards the other side of the car, suddenly hyper-aware of the confined space they were in. Their eyes stayed trained on the thug next to them, anticipating any sort of retaliation, but it didn't come. Instead, they just glared at Whumpee and continued talking.

"You got anyone waiting for you back home?" They snarked condescendingly. Their tone marked the inquiry as it was: not an invitation but a demand to respond. Whumpee had started the damn conversation, so it was on them to keep it up.

Whumpee's thoughts flashed to Caretaker at home, frantically pacing on the phone, worried out of their mind. By now, they'd have noticed Whumpee was gone. They were supposed to watch a movie together tonight. Instead, Whumpee ended up in what felt like one, what they desperately wished was one, but what was rather an unfortunate and horrific reality.

"Yes," Whumpee gritted out. "I do."

The thug hummed lightly, turning back towards the front. "Too bad they'll have to keep waiting."

Whumpee swallowed and looked out the window. Frustration and desperation welled up inside them, a simmer growing into a raging boil that threatened to spill over. Whumpee was going to be killed. They were going to be killed and they could do nothing about it because they were trapped in a car with three armed criminals on their way to the middle of nowhere. Caretaker would find their body in a ditch if they were lucky. They wouldn't find them at all if they weren't.

Whumpee wasn't going to go willingly. They glanced at the gun on the thug next to them. With the doors locked, it was their only real chance to accomplish anything. Slowly, they stretched out their hands, loosening up the muscles, and took a deep, quiet breath. Then they moved.

Their hands wrapped around the gun, and they pulled hard. The gun escaped its holster, but the thug caught their wrists and slammed them down, sending the gun clattering to the floor. Shouts erupted from the front seat as Whumpee and the thug wrestled over each other, limbs entangled. The thug screamed as Whumpee clawed furiously at their face and hands, leaving bright red scratches.

Whumpee broke free of the hold and lunged for the weapon. A piercing gunshot rang out and a mangled scream broke out of Whumpee as a searing pain erupted in their shoulder. With trembling hands, they snatched the gun and aimed at the armed thug in the passenger seat. Just as their finger pulled back on the trigger, a heavy body threw them to the side, and the bullet flew through the back of the driver's seat. The driver slumped dead against the window.

With no one to steer, the car swerved off towards the road's sloped edge. A barrage of rageful cursing was the last noise before the car flew off the road and lurched downhill. A screeching cacophony of shattering glass and deforming metal rang out while Whumpee was hurled around the rolling car. The wind was knocked from their lungs as they were slammed against the doors and seats. A reverberating pain exploded in their head as they crashed against plastic and metal.

At last the car came to a stop with a final crushing impact. Whumpee's body was simultaneously nonexistent and ever too present with pain. Fog clouded their mind, turning their vision hazy and their limbs numb. Almost of their own accord, their eyes fluttered shut, and Whumpee fell into a deep, dark, numbing sleep.....

..Warm.

..It was…. warm…

Whumpee blinked blearily. Exhaustion filled their being, the warm feeling only adding to its effect.

A warm light glowed at their side beckoning them back to rest, to close their eyes and drift back to sleep. They reached out, trying to capture the warmth, but halted at the agonizing ache in their body. An ever growing agony ran through their body. They gasped as sharp waves of pain shot through their head, and they shut their eyes tight to drown it out.

Horrid pain encompassed their every atom. They grasped around the car for anything to save them from it, but felt nothing. The warmth that once comforted became unbearable with its extra sensation, a heat that only grew. And grew. And grew. And as the acrid stench pervaded their nose and lungs, Whumpee realized with horror where it came from: a fire surrounding the car.

Their eyes shot open, and they sat up, cursing and clutching their head against the pain. The car was upside down and utterly wrecked. The thugs, for their part, were no better. Whumpee cringed as they saw the wholly unnatural angle at which the nearest thug's neck was bent.

The door was still locked when they tried it, and the door was too crushed to fit through the window. Panic kicked in as the scent of gasoline wafted into the car. Frantically, they scanned the car for a way out until their eyes locked on the shattered windshield, the only space big enough for them to crawl out of. Carefully, they crawled around the bodies and shards of glass and made their way out of the demolished car. They hissed as their leg caught on one of the broken shards and cut into the skin. Blood dripped from the wound and the pain flared each time they stood on it, but distance was more important than comfort. By now, flames and clouds of thick smoke had consumed the entire vehicle. A puddle formed where the gasoline trickled out at a rapid rate, collecting in the car.

Whumpee scrambled away as fast as they could. They managed a reasonable distance before a raging, scorching heat exploded at their back, and a tremendous force hurled them to the ground. Whumpee's ears rang wildly from the volume, and their head pounded with agony. Any numbing effect their adrenaline had achieved was abruptly swept away, a new wave of torture spreading throughout their body. Their mind felt hazy again and their awareness of anything but the pain dimmed. The harsh, disgusting stench of burnt rubber and plastic polluted the air, barely keeping Whumpee afloat.

A figure crossed through Whumpee's periphery, almost unnoticeable from their battered state. Some muffled noise drew Whumpee's attention to behind them. They turned over and suddenly screamed as a stabbing kick lodged itself in their ribs.

The last remaining thug stood over Whumpee coated in blood and dirt. They cradled their wrist which hung limp and purple. A frenzied smile crossed their face as Whumpee groaned and writhed on the ground.

The thug said something which they couldn't hear before pulling out a gun from their waistband. Whumpee froze. They put their hands up in a pleading motion, but the thug only smiled more. They cocked the gun. Whumpee covered their head as a loud noise sounded.

A moment passed before Whumpee opened their eyes, brave enough to feel around for the damage. But they found none at all. In fact, stood before them, they found Caretaker panting heavily, dirt on their face and blood on their fists. The thug lay unconscious on the ground.

"Whumpee!"

"Caretaker!"

Whumpee groaned as they tried to get up, but Caretaker rushed over and gently held them down.

“Woah, woah, don’t stand,” they said. “Ambulance should be here any minute.” Their hand brushed over Whumpee’s shoulder feeling the faint wetness of blood. “What happened to your shoulder?" they asked.

Whumpee huffed. "Shot," they mumbled, then, when Caretaker's eyebrows shot up, added, "Just clipped me. I'll be okay."

Caretaker sighed shakily in relief. They moved so they were sat down next to Whumpee and gently ran their fingers through their hair.

The fog in Whumpee's mind slowly started to dissipate with Caretaker there to focus on. A curious expression crossed their face. "How did you get here?" they asked quietly.

"I drove," Caretaker said. They held out their phone and smiled softly. "Saw your location." Whumpee smiled back. "Well, I didn't exactly get lost this time," they said. "But I guess it worked all the same."

A quiet wailing caught Whumpee and Caretaker's attention, and they looked over to see the flashing red lights of the ambulance approaching from the distance.

Caretaker turned back to Whumpee. They brushed a soft hand over their face and grasped their hand. "Let's get out of here," they said.

Whumpee smiled and squeezed their hand. "Good idea."

And for the first time that night, Whumpee could relax, knowing Caretaker was there by their side.

[viva-la-whump]

Whumpmas in July - Day 20

Day 20 - What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media?

Thrawn. Absolutely Thrawn! There is a smidge of whump for him in canon (bless you, Timothy Zahn for that bit of goodness in 'Outbound Flight'!!!) and I'm doing my part in trying to whump him in my Star Wars Western AU, but this man needs to be hurt SO much more than he is!! I love him, your honor!!! 😩

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Whumpmas in July Day 4: Post a Whump Prompt

Okay, so I have four prompt ideas, so themed prompts and alternate ones. for @whumpmasinjuly Day 4! Fitting, right, four prompts on Day 4?

Theme: Memory

‘I…am sorry, but I don’t know you. I know that you are my (insert relationship), the photos are proof, the doctor…everyone, everything…you are there. But I…can’t remember, and I am sorry.’

His/her/their (relationship) smiles, small and fragile. ‘That’s alright. I have you, and that is enough. Memories can be both made, and talked about.’

OR

Write a scene with your character remembering something they wish they did not, and their reaction to it.

Theme: Protecting loved ones

‘Why did you ever carry such a burden all alone? You could have told me.’

‘…I did not want to hurt you.’

OR

‘Oh, you’re so hurt!’

He/she/they shrug(s), wincing. ‘Just me. You…you’re safe. ‘S what matters.’

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[serickswrites]

Whumpmas in July '24 Day 20

What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media?

This is a very, very good question. The easy answer is whatever character is in the show I'm watching or book I'm reading that I deem the most whumpable. That said, I am on a reading kick right now, so I have some characters that I would happily read about them being whumped. (Looking at you really, really hard Xaden Riorsen, Chaol, and Rhys).

I do have my go to characters that I will endlessly enjoy being whumped (Malcolm Bright, Sam/Dean Winchester, Castiel, Leon, Lucifer, and honestly like every character in the Executioner series).

[whumpmasinjuly]

Now introducing the prompt list for Whumpmas in July 2023! 

Thank you for patiently waiting! We will be implementing a couple of new changes! We will not be reblogging any creations this year and will instead keep this blog as a space to only post the prompts, tags, and relevant information. We will post the tag for each day, and we ask that you use two tags when filling prompts this year so that others may find your creations easily:  Tag 1 ---> #wij23day__ (Fill in the blank with the appropriate day number for the prompt you are filling! For example, if you are doing the prompt for day 21, make sure to tag your post with #wij23day21. Of course, feel free to use any other relevant tags too!)

Tag 2 ---> #whumpmasinjuly2023  Be sure to also tag @whumpmasinjuly-archive if you would like your posts reblogged to our new official archive account!  You can also find a banner that you can use in your posts (if you want) under the #wijbanner tag.

The prompts are divided into three categories: questions, prompts, and community activities. Everyone is free to participate as much or as little as they want–there’s no completionist requirement! This list provides a preview of the prompts, but on each day a more detailed post will be released with more context and additional suggestions for each day’s task. Similar to previous years, all prompts and other important information will be found under the #infowhumpmasinjuly tag and #infowij23 for ease of access. This blog will also use the tags #wijquestion , #wijcommunity , and #wijprompt respectively for each post so that you can filter and find the type of prompts you’d like to do. 

Below the cut is a text list of this year’s prompts:

1. (Re)Introduce yourself. 2. What ten words give you the whumperflies/make you think of whump? 3. Stitches/Bandages 4. Share a TV show, movie, or any media that gives you the whumperflies! (Feel free to go off about your favorite episodes/moments!) 5. What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media? 6. Deprived 7. Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time (or reblog it and/or make a list of them!) 8. Describe your favorite type of whumper! 9. “Stay with me” 10. Check out a new whump blog and drop them an ask! 11. What whump media type do you prefer and why? 12. Search & Rescue 13. Share some of your favorite niche whump tags! 14. Describe the ideal fic you’ve always wanted to read but have yet to find / haven’t written yet. 15. Buried 16. Create a whump meme! 17. What inspires you most to create whump content? (Images? Fics? Shows?) 18. Ache 19. Create a list of some of your favorite whump blogs to share! 20. Describe your favorite type of whumpee!  21. “Please.” 22. Find a story/author you’ve never read before, read it and leave some nice comments (people can reblog the post to plug their series/masterlists/etc as well) 23. What is your favorite type of whump setting? 24. Earth (Environmental whump) 25. Share a sneak peek of something you’re working on! 26. What is your favorite place to find whump media, roleplayers/writers, or fan-created content? (Link us to it!) 27. Unstable (Mentally? Physically? Both!?) 28. Send people asks about their OCs or favorite fandoms! 29. Do you identify with any particular roles or situations in whump? 30. Antidote 31. Who is someone in the whump-creating world that you admire and why?

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Tiny Kane

Kane & Jim AUs Masterlist

g/t sideblog here! @smallsday

content: whump, g/t, tiny whump, fear, burns, torture, vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, rescue, caretaking, recovery, comfort, starvation, weight loss due to starvation

Whumpmas in July Day 6: Deprived GT July Day 6: AU Two Weeks of Whump Day 6: Cage

surprise extra cameo from TWOW as well, three events in one! i've been wanting to do a tiny Kane AU for a looong time. how did Kane become tiny, you ask? well, it's- (i describe a convenient plot device, but a loud truck blows past and you can't hear me). but yeah i'm just doing this for fun and not worrying about the context lol. you get no in-universe explanation, i just love tiny whump

-

Jim was pretty sure the only reason he wasn't completely freaking out right now was because he'd been warned in advance about the size, but he was still freaking out a little bit.

Kane sat huddled in the middle of a little silver cage, trying his best to balance himself so the only part of him that touched the floor was protected by the small bit of clothing he had. A pair of shorts that looked like they'd been haphazardly sewn together, the seams halfway to coming apart. He strained to raise his feet slightly so they wouldn't burn.

Despite his efforts, the hunter thrust the cage toward Jim carelessly, causing Kane to lose his balance and burn his feet. He shrieked, righting himself as quickly as possible. The entirety of his five-inch body was dotted with similar burns.

The hunter tossed a key, which Jim scrambled to catch. "Don't worry, it's harmless now."

Jim carefully took the cage, being sure to move steadily enough that Kane wouldn't fall over again. On a closer look, a large, circular burn on Kane's back looked suspiciously like the end of a cigarette. "Oh."

He barely paid attention as the hunter said goodbye. All he could focus on was Kane. The situation was too bizarre.

"It's been a while," he said as soon as the hunter left.

Kane burst into tears instantly. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "P-please, Jim, sir, I'm so sorry! Mercy, please have mercy, I can't take-" He was crying so hard that he struggled to pull enough air into his little lungs, gasping for breath around tears. "I'm s-so sorry, I'm so sorry, please-"

"Hey, hey," Jim interrupted him, sick to his stomach. He'd fantasized for years about wringing an apology from his tormenter, but not like this. It was abundantly clear Kane expected Jim to hurt him.

As much as he hated Kane, as much as he'd wished him dead for years, he didn't think he could ever hurt someone as defenseless as Kane was now. Like the hunter said, he was harmless. The vampire may have haunted his nightmares and waking paranoia alike for the past decade, but Jim couldn't even bring himself to be afraid of him now.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he continued. "How about we get you out of there? That looks... painful."

Kane nodded profusely, tears streaming down his face. "Please," he begged.

Jim placed the cage on the hood of his car, trying his best not to jostle it. Kane whimpered at the movement, every muscle tensed as he tried to balance himself.

The key was small and silver. To him it was a harmless trinket, but it was half as tall as Kane and would burn him on touch. When he'd heard about Kane's size now, Jim had only thought of what it meant in terms of the harm Kane could cause. Like this, Kane couldn't hurt him, kidnap him, force him into submission. He'd never thought about what the hunters might do to a vampire this vulnerable.

He unlocked the cage, reaching in since Kane wouldn't be able to climb out on his own without getting burned. Kane looked at his approaching hand with utter terror, but made no move away from it, allowing Jim to scoop him into his palm and out of the cruel cage.

Kane stared up at him, eyes wide with fear as his chest rose and fell rapidly, backed up against his fingers so Jim could feel him trembling. His heart raced, fluttering with fear.

"It's okay," Jim soothed the tiny, shaking vampire in his palm. He hated Kane, he really did. Nothing could ever erase the things Kane did to him, the years Kane stole from him. But he knew what it was like to be hurt and scared, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Even Kane. "Just try and relax."

Kane gave a stiff nod, but did not relax. "Yes, sir," he said anyway, timid and afraid.

It felt so wrong, and brought up some of the worst memories Jim had. Memories of being that vulnerable person, unable to stand even the slightest chance of protecting himself against someone so strong, calling Kane sir just like he wanted in a desperate attempt to placate him before he-

"Jim," he corrected, unnerved. "You know my name."

"Y-yes, Jim!" Kane squeaked, only looking more terrified, like calling him sir had been worthy of execution. "I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry about it." Jim threw the silver shit on the floor of the backseat before getting in the car, briefly scanning for a decent place to put Kane. "I'm gonna put you in the cupholder."

"Thank you," Kane breathed. He sounded so relieved to just be out of that cage. Jim couldn't imagine what a car ride in that thing would be like.

He went to put Kane in the cupholder, but hesitated.

Kane weighed almost nothing, even less than he should at this size. Given his lack of a shirt, Jim could easily see his ribs poking against the skin of his chest, the way his stomach dipped in, concave like his cheeks.

He was starving. He was starving so badly that if he weren't a vampire, he would surely be dead.

The fact that the hunters had deprived Kane of food when it would take so little to keep him fed was horrifying. He was five inches tall, and yet they'd stripped him of everything from food to clothes to accommodations that wouldn't burn him. It was cruel. it was sadistic.

It would take so very little for Jim to rectify it.

He didn't want to do this. It was ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but he was scared to. The scars on his neck, hidden snug under the fabric of his turtleneck, seemed to ache the more he thought about it.

Jim set Kane down gently in the cupholder. He could psych himself up on the drive home. For good measure, he grabbed a couple stray napkins and put them in there with him. "Here, you can use these to make yourself a little more comfortable."

Kane wrapped them both around himself instantly, bundling himself up in the cheap paper like they were blankets. "Thank you," he said, choked up with genuine gratitude. "Thank you so much for letting me use them. I'll be good."

The display about broke Jim's heart. "No problem, man."

-

Kane sat dutifully in the cupholder the whole drive, beyond grateful that he didn't have to do it in the silver cage. The cage which laid ominously in the backseat, ready to be pulled out again whenever Jim decided he deserved it. And Kane knew he deserved it.

Jim could do anything he wanted to him, and he'd be powerless to resist. He'd probably be powerless to resist even at his old size, given how weak the starvation had made him, but especially now. Just like Jim had been when their situations were reversed. Jim could return every slap, every kick, every iron-clad grasp around his neck that Kane had dished out, and return it tenfold until he was nothing but red paste.

But he would heal. He always did, slowly but surely, and would continue to unless he was staked. Jim may have shown him mercy this time, but he couldn't expect that every time after what he'd done.

Jim parked the car when they got there, extending his hand toward the cupholder. "We're here," he announced.

Kane waited a moment to be grabbed, something he'd become very accustomed to after years of being handled like an unbreakable toy, before he realized Jim was waiting for him to climb on.

"Yes, s- Jim," he corrected himself just in time, hauling himself onto the human's warm hand. He brought the lovely napkins with him, hoping Jim would allow him to keep them.

The decadent smell of human blood enveloped Kane once again as Jim cupped his hand around him, his mouth watering at the scent. He would do anything for just a drop, but he knew better by now. Bad vampires got punished. He could be good, prove he was worthy of being allowed outside his horrible, burning cage. Even being used as an ashtray would be better.

Jim carried him inside. It was surreal: he hadn't been anywhere besides the hunters' compound and its backyard since shrinking. To be in a regular house, with everything massive and blown up around him, just emphasized how he could never go back to his old life. He would be at the mercy of others forever, no matter what.

"I don't have any clothes for you," Jim said apologetically. "I wasn't expecting you to... not have any. I'll look for something in town for you tomorrow. I'll get you some cloth you can use in the meantime."

That was even better than napkins! Jim was going to give him clothes! Clothes his size, that fit!

"Thank you so much!" he enthused, craning his neck to look up at his new keeper. "That would be amazing. You're- you're very generous." He knew he would have to earn this kindness, but he was too excited to care.

Jim shrugged, Kane's world tilting with the motion. "It's kind of just the bare minimum. It's not like you ever deprived me of clothes, right?"

"I would never," Kane assured him quickly.

It was hardly the only kindness Jim would gift him that night. Jim allowed him to bathe in the sink, and choose what room he would be kept in. He chose the basement, enticed by the lack of windows bearing the dangers of the sun. Jim set up a small cardboard box for him layered with blanketing. It was the softest thing he'd felt in years.

"There's one more thing." Jim seemed... upset about this one, which set Kane on edge.

He pulled the cloth he'd been given tighter around himself. Was Jim finally about to take his revenge? Kane could deal with that, as long as he got to sleep on something soft after. "Yes?"

Jim reached toward him. Despite his own train of thought, Kane couldn't help but flinch back. Waiting to be grabbed, squeezed, his limbs snapped, his skin burnt-

But Jim didn't touch him. His hand stopped in front of him, a giant thumb in front of his face. "You can feed."

Kane couldn't believe what he was hearing. After years of complete deprivation, he would finally be allowed food?

He didn't ask Really?. He didn't ask if there were restrictions. He couldn't bear it. He was being given permission, and every instinct in his body screamed at him to feed before the precious blood was taken away forever again.

"Thank you!" Kane exclaimed. He took Jim's thumb in his hands, and with a final glance up at Jim, he bit.

The taste was like nothing he could have ever imagined, more phenomenal than any blood he'd tasted before in his life, despite how many times he'd tasted Jim's blood in particular. It flowed into his mouth with abundance, rich and savory. He couldn't possibly get enough, even when Jim's thumb trembled in his hold.

He drank and drank until he physically couldn't anymore. Jim didn't stop him. He just let him keep going, and as Kane came out of his bloodlust-induced frenzy and back to rational thought, he realized that maybe his new size had a good aspect to it after all.

Kane swiped his tongue over the two pinpricks his fangs had made, then released the thumb, scooting back into the cardboard. "Thank you so much. That's- that's the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me. I forgot what it was like to not be hungry." Tears dripped onto his chest, and he realized he must have started crying while he fed. "Thank you, thank you so much. Especially after I- thank you."

"I'm not gonna be cruel." Jim took his hand back, examining the wound. "I won't keep your basic needs away. I won't hurt you. I won't grab you without permission. I know what it's like to be powerless and vulnerable, okay? You know."

"I'm sorry." Kane had never meant it as much as he did right now. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Nothin' you can do about it now." Jim stepped away. "Get some rest. You need it."

Kane nestled into his blankets, full for the first time in years, warm in a way that didn't hurt.

Finally, finally safe.

-

tune in on sunday for a canon Kane & Jim chapter! taglist in reblog!

event: @whumpmasinjuly @gianttol @promptsforyourwhumpfic

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 14: ideal fic wishlist

one of the most frustrating parts of being a writer is dreaming up a delightful fantasy, saying to oneself "damn, wish i could read that..", and then realizing..."fuck. i have to write it, don't i?" 😅💖 but, in lieu of that, i want to describe an ideal fiction i haven't yet written or read!

one my absolute guaranteed sources of whumperflies is some massive, yet plot-relevant, misunderstanding that results in catastrophic distress and pain 😈😢😈

for years, i've had this fantasy about a "villain whumpee" (this is a nebulous definition, typically describing someone outcast, perhaps because they are a magical being or perhaps because of being trapped in a nefarious position in life) being inducted into a team of "heroes" (typically people cast as "good guys" in some socially significant way, usually a combination of people genuinely trying their best to be good in a flawed, shitty system or genuine assholes of some brand). typically, this "villain" character does genuinely buy into their own "badness" to a degree that severely impacts their self-worth. 🥺🥺🥺

anyways, of course, this villain whumpee, who is so desperately trying to prove themselves to their team, to society, and to themselves, is caught in a situation where they must (seem to) ✨ betray their team ✨ and, oh no, my poor whumpee is horribly punished in some...Socially Justified Manner for their perceived betrayal (perhaps by the authorities, perhaps by other "villains") but regardless, this villain whumpee is left permanently and profoundly hurt 😰😢

this villain whumpee now must flee, running away for their own safety, because they cannot bear being further harmed and punished by their team, both because they know the impending punishment would be horrible to experience (and they are already so very hurt, they are in so much pain) and also because they cannot bear the people they've become close to now being their - of course very justified - tormenters 🥺🥺🥺

so the villain whumpee flees, carving out a meager, difficult little life for themself, while nursing their disabilities/injuries and also their heart-wounds at the betrayal they do not want to reckon with as well as the actions they committed against their newfound friends 😭🥺

but eventually, their former friends, the team of "heroes", tracks down the "villain whumpee" and the whumpee believes with all their heart that their former friends are here to enact revenge or justice or both. 🥺💔😭 a particulate feature of this story which i enjoy imagining is the villain whumpee desperately, in terror, trying to escape and get away and still getting caught, cornered, perhaps tearfully pleading for mercy? 😭😭😭

(whether or not the team is there to genuinely reconcile with their former friend because they realize they were in the wrong OR they are there to...apprehend this person for some reason - perhaps plot relevant information reasons, perhaps even begrudgingly, perhaps still believing their old friend was a traitorous piece of shit - is variously intriguing to me....😈😈😈 in other words, it is entirely plausible that this "reunion" has many earmarks of a capture.)

the apprehension of this deeply injured, malnourished, exhausted, terrified, outnumbered person by a cadre of powerful, pissed-off, former friends, all faces this whumpee knows and loved and can personally plead with by name, is...extremely delicious to me and my trope-loving little heart 🥺💖😭

i've had some loose sketches of characters here and there stewing on the back-burner for some time now, some of the inspiration for this character being found in my blog's tag "vasily vibes", in case anybody is curious! but i've never written and fleshed this idea out fully but it is a brand of fantasy i've greatly enjoyed whenever i come across anything remotely fitting the bill. 😍😍😍

gimme desperation, gimme aching angsty sadness at not being believed and thinking oneself abandoned and cast aside but still loving and being devastated by that loss, gimme social exclusion, gimme complex and morally dubious good guys, gimme indulgent levels of sheer "weeping over the memory of those who despise you" hurts, gimme disgustingly tropey disgust and ostracization and a lack of meaningful self-defense. 💔💔💔 i'm an absolute sucker for a well-meaning outcast falling deep into the "oops i care so much" hole and being subsequently fucked over for it 😈🥺😈

if you have a tale that seems similar at all to this - or you just want to share your headcanons! - please hit me up. i love suffering 😍💖

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone and stay safe! 💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[whumpsoda]

Happy Whumpmas. 🎅 🌲☃️ You have just been snowballed by a secret Whumper. Help to keep the snowball fight going by anonymously sending this to five other whumpers with a whump related question of your choice?

Are there any tropes you wish to see more of from the community?

Happy Whumpmas to you too!!! 🫶🫶

For tropes I don’t really know… definitely more hypnosis/mind control/brainwashing because I’m SUCH a sucker for it and I personally don’t see too much of it (might just be me) !!!

And just like very hardcore pet whump? Idk if that counts but just like really in an animal mindset, really intense conditioning, very dehumanizing events and language. I dunno I’m just obsessed :)