#wild whump

[mischefous]

Saw you wanted whump-y LU requests, and I wanted to suggest maybe a piece of either Wild or Twilight being sick, and hallucinating that the other isn’t there, when they actually are? Or something along those lines?

Hope you have a wonderful day!

I really enjoyed drawing the expressions on this one! poor Wild is super sick and delirious to the point where he is hallucinating that everyone is gone 😭

Thank you for your lovely request @four-eyed-nerd! I hope you have a wonderful day too💙

HSAJFJSHKW- LOVE IT WHEN I DRAW HANDS AND THEY LOOK LIKE PROPER HANDS

[kaciart]

Day 14 Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

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Patreon | Ko-Fi

[la-sera]

For @skyward-floored

Fic: Collapse (Fan Joy July Day 14, my 10th pict for Fan Joy July)

I always enjoy reading your fics since I found out about LU. I read a lot of your fics that are about whump, angst, or hurt/comfort hehe.

Your story writing is easy to understand for me. And when I read this fic, I immediately got an idea to draw. I hope you like it!

Thank you for sharing your great work!

[waitineedaname]

i was thinking my little thoughts while falling asleep last night, and a concept occurred to me: what if binghe learned about the system not from shen qingqiu, but from shang qinghua

look, he likes shang qinghua alright. he's pretty disinterested in p much anyone who isn't shen qingqiu, but on the list of People Luo Binghe Tolerates, shang qinghua is relatively high. he gave him advice on wooing sqq, after all, and sqq likes his company, so binghe tolerates his shang-shishu

but the thing is, shang qinghua is a spy. has been for decades. binghe knows this. really, everyone knows this at this point, which isn't a great look for a spy, but still. and since shang qinghua is a spy for mobei-jun, who is a subordinate for luo binghe, then technically shang qinghua is also working for him, but you don't get to the position of demon emperor without a healthy amount of suspicion for everyone in your court

so he decides to test shang qinghua a little bit. nothing major, just a little poking around in his dreams. he starts out with a subtle touch, just sifting through his memories. most of it is what he expected. he sees his time on an ding as a disciple and then later as peak lord, he sees him working for mobei-jun. he sees mobei-jun in some compromising situations, which he files away for later, and then sees him in an entirely different flavor of compromising situations, and binghe immediately decides to act like he never saw that

then he decides to take a more direct approach and starts nudging the dreams in other directions, to see how he might react to certain scenarios, test his loyalty. he expects shang qinghua to act cowardly, or bluff his way through a situaton, maybe even draw his sword if pushed far enough

what he doesn't expect is for shang qinghua to frown at the changes luo binghe made and go "I didn't write it like this"

what

binghe is so bewildered by that response that he loses his grip on the dream for a second, and before he knows it, shang qinghua has spun the dream scenario back into the way the scene originally played out. he steps back and looks satisfied. "there we go," he says. "that's how it went. you know, if I'd known I'd be dealing with this scene myself, I would've written it differently"

what the hell does that mean?

fascinated, luo binghe continues to test him. most of the time, when he toys with someone's dream, they're completely unaware of the changes. shang qinghua, despite not seeming aware that he's lucid dreaming, seems very aware of how each scene should go. except for, strangely, many of the scenes that binghe himself was in. binghe pulls up one from his disciple days, one of the times he remembered shang qinghua coming to qing jing on some errand. he hadn't even changed anything yet, had just let the dream version of his younger self launch himself at shizun in a tacklehug, but shang qinghua tsks and takes the reins from him before he can make any edits. "sorry bing-ge, but that was just way too out of character," shang qinghua says. the dream copy of luo binghe's younger self is sent further away, watching the peak lords with a sullen gaze. he's skinnier than binghe remembers being at this age, and one of his eyes is swollen with a purple bruise. that doesn't make any sense, luo binghe thinks. he hadn't been beaten on qing jing peak for years at this point.

the shen qingqiu beside shang qinghua in the dream stands with his back straight as a ruler, and when his gaze lands on luo binghe, he sneers behind his fan. shang qinghua sighs. "cucumber-bro really wasn't as good of an actor as he thought he was. he's way too soft to ever seem like the original goods."

alarmed, luo binghe dispels the dream and steps out of it entirely. sure, he knows shen qingqiu's personality changed almost overnight when he had that qi deviation. everyone knew that. he avoided questioning it much, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant having a shizun that cared for him

but shang qinghua. shang qinghua seems to know something more about shen qingqiu's personality change. something he's not sharing. luo binghe didn't like the idea that one of his subordinates could be hiding something as vital as this from him

well, this had been a test of his spy's loyalties, hadn't it? perhaps he should make a visit to an ding. he had some questions.

[martincrushcameback]

While it is delightfully fun to make Chris the only whump brother for overprotective and worried older brother Martin scenes, consider we make Martin the whump brother and give Chris the little brother panicked "I need you, what am I supposed to do without you leading the way?!" speeches. >83c

[letitbehurt]

Something about a defiant Whumpee dutifully playing the fawn and Whumper buying approximately none of it.

[amariaarts]

for linktober day 14: fairy

he'll be fine :)

[kikker-oma]

Hello and welcome all to my latest 9 Part series of drawings to help me study for my class😊

Today's drawing is for Wild, who is showing off his lovely (and hardy☠️) digestive system! It works so hard to digest even the most dubious of his culinary creations lol

[whumpedup]

Jayce Talis returns from the Arcane - S2 E5

[aceofwhump]

14th Doctor emotional moments in Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Special "Wild Blue Yonder"

[abhainnwhump]

Whumper, ripping off the last page of their calendar and tossing it to Whumpee's feet: That's another year, darling. And not a single person has found you. Give up, because your friends already did.

[mischefous]

Could you possibly do Legend and Warriors, whump? I love making those two suffer for some reason. (Your art is amazing, and I love it!)

awwweee!! Thank you @insane-twilight-fan and Anon for these requests💙💙 I friggen loooove this duo, especially if it's Legend getting whumped >:3

CW! Blood/coughing up blood

[noirineverysense]

i get annoyed when white people on this site act like tumblr is completely fine if you just 'avoid discourse', when discourse can literally mean calling out all the casual racism around you like its never 'peaceful' here for people of colour. Acting like tumblr is some special site where you can just get away from all the drama of other social media sites sure is a privilege i would like to have.

'Just curate your content!' doesnt work when its basically all the content thats the problem.

[kokiri-clori]

LU Writer Appreciation Project 2023

hosted by @seekingseven (love yoouu!!)

My second gift for @lyrabythelake based on their fanfic  Lifting The Fog

Ahhh I am such a huge fan for whump fics and this one definitely kept me reading all the way to the end. I love the sense of urgency in this with the dangerous terrain that was not doing them any favors. 

[adrift-in-thyme]

And so it begins >:) I'm super excited for a month full of whump!! I hope you all enjoy reading these fics as much as I've enjoyed writing them. Now, whumptober day 1 LET'S GOOOO

Whumptober Day 1: Race Against The Clock

Read it on Ao3

- Warriors & Wild

- Summary: When Wild gets poisoned, it's up to Warriors to get him to safety

CW for blood and injury, poisoning, near-death experience

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

Warriors runs and does not stop.

His scarf flies out behind him, its flight a thing of fragile elegance. His boots collide with the earth so harshly puffs of dust rises with each step. His breathing is short, quick; his mouth dry, saliva thick. 

Keep going.

It is the only order he has. And it is an order that rises from the depths of his own mind. 

Keep going until you reach the fountain. 

In his arms, tucked close, lies Wild. Draped in an awkward bridal hold, his legs and arms flap limply with the movement, like damp clothes hung on a line to be tossed by the wind. His breaths are an unending rasp of thin, courageous gasps. Blood deepens the tranquil blue of his tunic into a somber maroon and drains past his lips in a line of faintly bubbling gore. 

He coughs. More life flees in a murmur.

This time, the persevering rises and falls of his chest nearly ceases with it.

“Stay with me, champion,” he orders through gritted teeth and the taste of sweat. 

“No problem,” the boy had chirped mere moments before. He had stood with an arrow in his breast, dripping emerald, he had stood bloodied and beaten…and he had grinned. 

“Takes more than this to kill me.”

And therein lies the heart of the hero’s sentiment. Warriors has certainly thought the same phrase many times himself.

The idea that you are stronger than evil, stronger than fate — it is one you must hold to if you mean to survive. The thing about heroes is, they always mean to survive. 

Pride is necessary. Pride does not change a single thing.

Blue eyes turned milky blink up at him. Cracked, crimson-dampened lips part with a sigh.

“I’s okay Wars. ‘M fine.” His voice cracks, a structure of crumbling stone. His head lolls sideways, bumping against Warriors’ chest. 

“I know...”

He is not. Not in any way.

Warriors knows little about the various poisons that exist within this darkness-entrenched world. He should, what with the sheer amount that have been sent his way. But even Impa’s knowledge and Zelda’s wisdom cannot comprehend them all. Like the cursed stalfos in Wild’s Hyrule, they lurk, waiting, watching until the right moment to leap. 

Whoever they hit is left floundering. That much is so certain that it aches. 

Warriors pauses. His chest heaves with quick, thin, burning gasps. There is a crossroads before him. He examines the two worn signs, like human arms, each gesturing in a new direction. He has little clue as to which leads to a fairy fountain. But the one claiming to take him to Kakariko seems the more promising choice of the two. If, goddess forbid, his gamble fails to pay off then at the very least they will be in a town, amongst people. Perhaps, someone will have medicine or know magic. 

He bows his head. As long as he can make it, there is hope.

He wishes, not for the first time, that he had Epona. 

A roar shatters what stillness there had been. Out of the cover of the overgrown grass leaps a bokoblin. Its muscled body gleams silver and violet. An enormous club rests in the beast’s clawed grip, its surface roughly hewn.

Cursing himself for his inattention, Warriors lunges sideways. The bokoblin brings its weapon hurtling through the air with such force that it lifts his hair, makes his scalp prickle. He drops into a battle stance, plants his feet, clumsily maneuvers Wild into the hold of his nondominant hand. His sword sings as he lifts it from its sheath.

Two more beasts fly forth as though conjured by dark magic, one black, the other that cursed hue verging on white. 

The first lunges once more and the others join him. But this time Warriors is ready. He brings his sword up in front of him, angled horizontal. Stealing his will, he pushes himself into a vicious whirl. The world blurs. The wind whistles in his ears, joining the beat of his heart. The monsters cry out and fall.

Warriors comes to a stop, breathing hard more from the panic he must fight down than from physical exertion. Wild moans, protesting the jostling, and he murmurs an apology. There is no time to stop, however. Hefting the champion into a firm grasp once more, he races forward. 

“Almost there,” he murmurs. “We’re almost there, Wild.”

Under other, better circumstances, he would try to get him to talk. He would pry about his Hyrule or Flora or his favorite weapons. He would tease and chatter, keep the conversation going all while his mind worked towards a strategy, a remedy. 

But Wild is too far gone for that. 

The time for words is over.

…

His chest has ceased its valiant movements almost completely by the time Warriors bursts into the town with all the grace of a raging moblin. Every breath stutters out of him. Blood and bile bubble from his lips. His eyes are murky slits of dim white, his brow creased and studded with sweat.

We’re running out of time.

“Fountain!” Warriors gasps to the first person he sees — a middle-aged man with his gray tipped white hair pulled upwards in a high ponytail. “Is there a fairy fountain nearby? Please, it is urgent!”

The man’s eyes widen, mouth working to form words. He points up at a hill rising steeply nearby.

“I-in the woods! The Great Fairy, she resides there!” 

Warriors turns on his heel, nods his thanks. 

“Link…will he be alright?” The man calls as he runs.

“He will!” He faces forward, grits his teeth, forces himself to believe the words that fly forth from his lips.

“He’ll survive this, just as he has everything else.”

…

It happens all in a blur. He locates the fairy with relative ease, watches with trepidation as she springs forth from her bud, holds Wild as magic swirls around them. 

Magic, thank the goddesses above, offered without a cost.

“This little one has paid for this,” the fairy says, painted lips lifting in a soft smile that Warriors is surprised to see. “He has more than paid for it.”

And so, Warriors is free, unhindered by boundaries of suffocating glass, when Wild blinks open his eyes. It takes them a moment to focus, but as soon as they do, they land with gentle focus upon his face. Wild’s expression morphs into a fatigued grin.

“Hey, Wars,” he murmurs, drowsy and weak. “Told ya it would take more than that.”

Warriors laughs. Even as the fear breaks its leaden walls and tears gush past the crumbling ramparts, he laughs. 

[foundfamilywhump]

the healing power of a recovering whumpee being able to say no. to tell someone to not touch them or stop touching them and be given their space, hands leaving their body even as they’re only there with the best intentions. to refuse to talk about something until they’re ready and being allowed their privacy. to be able to make their own decisions, have boundaries that are respected, protect themself. decide who touches them and when. who knows what and how. and having that honoured, over and over. reinforced that their body, their space, their choices belong to them.

whumpee breaking down in tears when it becomes emotionally overwhelming to say no and have their friends, the people who love them, listen. the way that being able to say no makes it feel safe as well to say yes - to let someone hold them, treat their injuries, comfort them, safe in the knowledge that if they want it to stop, it will stop. that the people caring for them will only continue as long as whatever is happening is wanted.