🩸Whump Resources🩸

recovering Whumpee prompts

Whumpee who NEEDS to see everything around them. They will not let anyone, even Caretaker, walk behind them, they sit or stand with their back to a wall if possible. They're always looking behind them, constantly expecting Whumper there, even if it's just subconsciously.

Whumpee who makes themself as small as possible. They know their posture is taking a hit, but they draw in all of their limbs and hunch over in an attempt to be as small as possible. They're most comfortable this way.

Whumpee who has periods of time where they lose speech - partially or totally. During these, if they want or need something, they find it difficult or impossible to ask for it, and god forbid someone ask them about Whumper.

Whumpee who dissociates - their eyes grow unfocused at times and they always look confused or lost. They mindlessly follow Caretaker wherever they go, even when they're completely out of it.

Whumpee who has lost touch with their own self and feelings, and who notices that their breathing and heartbeat are speeding up. They notice their symptoms of having, say, a panic attack, too late to stop the effects.

Whumpee who has to be their own caretaker, whether that means stitching up their own wounds while biting on their wallet, or forcing themself up and out of bed in the morning.

strayangel/muttangel

(pt. strayangel/muttangel end pt.)

Strayangel: a xenogender connected to strays and angels, an angel that is a stray ect.

Muttangel: a xenogender connected to mutts and angels, an angel that is a mutt ect.

divinestray/divinemutt

(pt. divinestray/divinemutt end pt.)

Divinestray: a xenogender connected to strays and divinity.

Divinemutt: xenogender connected to divinity and mutts.

✙𓈒 paranoia flags ❞

1st flag is for those who experience low paranoia. 2nd flag is for those who experience fluid paranoia (could be going from none to low to high, etc.) 3rd flag is for those who experience high paranoia.

these flags are for people who have paranoia, i made these with people with paranoid disorders in mind (like me), but anyone who experiences paranoia can use these. the first three colours don't have any meaning but the last/bottom one means (in order) the level of paranoia! first one being low (green), second being fluid (yellow), and the last one being high (red/pink), almost like traffic lights!

don't use these if you're transid/transx.

dividers by @/iv-ry

Forceful caretakers & defiant whumpees

A prompt from my hidden injuries post got me thinking about this dynamic ✨ (using FC for forceful caretaker)

Content: Forceful/bad caretaker, forced medical treatment, defiant whumpee, restraints, gags, caretaker turned whumper, manhandling, forced stripping (nonsexual), humiliation my beloved

A whumpee for whom mysterious injuries are a chronic problem—a regular occurrence—they keep dodging their friends questions, they start hiding their injuries, albeit poorly sometimes, until one day they come in so incredibly injured, with blood seeping through their clothes and dark bruises on their skin, poorly hidden beneath a layer of concealer that does little to mask the deep patches of dark purple and red.  

Eventually, FC is fed up. They’re all just trying to help and whumpee doesn’t even appreciate it. They keep brushing them off. How insulting. How ungrateful. 

One day FC finally snaps and they shove whumpee back against the wall, making them wince and gasp sharply with the pain of the movement.

FC pins them there with a vice grip around their throat— “Oh, you’re fine, are you? Then what the hell was that, hm?”” 

“N-nothing I—“ FC jabs a finger into the side of their ribcage, and whumpee hisses in pain, their eyes squeeze shut tightly— they’re shaking between wincing, panted breaths. 

They can’t hide their reactions any better than they can hide the limp in their step, the way they wince and grab their side when they think no ones looking. But now FC has proved it in front of the whole group, and whumpee is not getting away that easily. 

Another forced exposure: Whumpee wincing at something one too many times— maybe someone just lightly bumps into them— and their pained reaction has FC grabbing their wrist and hauling them off like—“Thats it I knew it, I fucking knew it. WHAT have I told you. Get in the car NOW.” 

And whumpee is pulling back against their grip, “I’m sorry im sorry! Just please don’t—“ — “Shut. Up. Now get in. We’re going to the fucking hospital.” 

Czytaj dalej

Okay mock executions are fucking terrifying I have not seen nearly enough of them in the whump community.

Whumpee who knows they’re going to die the next week/day/few hours and there’s nothing they can do to stop it. The panic and desperation with no outlet. They claw at their restraints and throw themself at the door to their cell, uncaring as bruises bloom across their skin, or as blood begins to build up underneath their nails. They’re willing to sacrifice everything for the futile, fleeting hope of escape. They scream and beg until their voice goes hoarse even though there’s no one nearby to listen. Eventually, they crumple in on themself to the awful realization that their future is set and cut. They can’t even sleep without their dreams being plagued with this lingering terror. Maybe they’ve seen Whumper kill someone in the manner they’ve told Whumpee they are to be executed, so Whumpee can’t even pretend to think that maybe Whumper is bluffing.

When the day comes, they still haven’t settled into their fate. They’re absolutely hysterical, doing everything they can to stay away from Whumper and [insert place where they were planned to be executed]. Of course, this does nothing. If they won’t walk, Whumper’s men will simply drag them. At one point maybe Whumpee manages to break free for a short moment of hope, managing to throw their elbow against Henchman’s stomach and twist away, actions fueled only by the adrenaline flooding their mind. They take a single desperate lunge towards the door, before something hard catches them upside the head and knocks them down. Their vision is fuzzy and fleeting, hearing nothing but a faint ringing. Maybe they’re unconscious altogether as Henchman picks them up and continues to drag them towards their final destination.

Whumper plays out everything the way it was intended. They tie the blindfold over Whumpee’s eyes, exchange their chains for softer restraints. Whatever. Then when it comes time for the strike, for the blade to pierce through their chest or slit across their neck, all that Whumpee feels is a small prick against their neck, something cold flood through their body before their thoughts collapse under the intensify of the stress and their mind gives out.

Wherever they wake the following day, let it be somewhere much worse than death’s doorstep or a place so peaceful Whumpee couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Whumpee will be terrified. Panicked and confused. Their thoughts will have no answer as they realized there is no one else around to answer their cries. They wonder if this is death, the afterlife or whatever it was called.

That hope is crushed, replaced by even more of a helpless confusion as Whumper strolls through the door moments later, grinning as they ran their fingers across the sharp of a blade.

hi idk if you’ve done a drabble on this but I was wondering if you could maybe do one where whumper is bathing whumpee and is just creepy/ weird overall. ty!

Hi!! Thanks for the ask!!

I've been sitting on this one for a while because I don't really write NSFW and this Whumper kept trying to push me on that 😅

HOWEVER. The two of us (the character and I - yes I negotiate with my ocs) have come to an agreement and we both compromised to make something that I don't dislike.

It dips a lot more NSFW than I've done though, so I'm going to say 18+ for this scene and put it under the cut.

Touch

NSFW - 18+

Go away - don't read this. Just go have a nice day reading another thing.

(tw: very creepy/intimate whumper, noncon touch, noncon bathing, degradation, torture mention, restrained (handcuffs), ableist language)

Whumpee twisted and squirmed against the handcuffs, but they only managed to bite the metal further into their wrists.

Water sloshed as they thrashed - they were sorely surprised they hadn’t slopped too much over the edge of the deep clawfoot tub yet. Maybe it was for lack of leverage. No matter how they kicked and pushed, they couldn’t find purchase on the bottom of the soapy tub - not with their hands locked in place above their head, chain twisted around the pipes at the head of the tub. If they weren’t careful, they’d smash their head into the spout. Again.

They had barely stopped their struggling when Whumper returned, fresh towels draped over their arm. Then Whumpee’s thrashing started afresh.

They snarled at Whumper. “Don’t come near me me - don’t you fucking touch me, you psychopathic-”

Whumpee gasped, sputtering to a stop as water basted down over their face again. They twisted and tugged, trying to get out of the stream, finally managed to tip their face up enough that the most of it went down the back of their head rather than over their eyes and mouth. They gasped for air, chest heaving. The water swayed with their efforts.

Whumper chuckled, then turned the tap off. “I am going to touch you, so you should go ahead and get used to the idea now.”

Whumpee snarled at them. “Don’t you dare - don’t you fucking dare, you-” their mouth snapped shut as Whumper perched on the edge of the tub, dipping the cloth beneath the bubbles. They choked on the anger - voice came out in a small breath of air now as Whumper’s eyes roamed over them. “...don’t.”

“I need to touch you to clean you, silly.” Whumper gave them a quick smile, wringing the water out.

Whumpee’s skin crawled as the droplets pelted onto their bare chest. “N-no, back off, creep!” They squirmed back. Their arms trembled as they pulled up against the faucet as much as they could. They were just grateful for the layer of bubbles that shielded the most of their body.

It didn’t help. They gasped, jolting back as Whumper’s hand dipped under the water. The flowing cloth ghosted across their hip.

“Nnghh - stop! Fuck, get off me!”

Whumper laughed quietly at that, dragging the cloth along their stomach, then slowly - so fucking slowly - up their chest. “Why would you want me to stop? You made such a mess before. I need to get all this blood off of you.”

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, squirming impossibly further against the back of the tub. It bruised against their shoulders, digging into lash marks that striped across their spine. They had mostly healed, but fuck if it didn’t still hurt. Still, they pulled back as far as they could.

Whumper started working the cloth in torturously slow circles against their ribs, curling their arm under the surface of the water to work. Whumpee arched their back, trying to use whatever space they had to get the touch off of them.

A squeak wormed its way up Whumpee’s throat as the cloth pressed against a deep, aching bruise at the side of their ribs.

Whumper chuckled. “Aww, is that sore?” They dropped the cloth, preferring to use their fingertips to trace the bruising, exploring and pressing in until Whumpee gasped.

“You poor thing. You’re all black and blue. What sort of monster would do this to you?”

Whumpee grit their teeth, pulling in on themself as Whumper kneaded the cloth deeper into a sore spot. A hiss of air slid through their gritted teeth as they thrashed again. “Fuck - s-stop! Stop! Get off me you fucking psychopath!” They tried to kick up at Whumper, but couldn’t find the leverage while they were keeping their legs pinned together so tightly.

Whumper grinned, eyes flicking up to meet Whumpee’s. “You’re so cute when you talk like that - but I’m going to have to ask you to stop.”

Whumpee glared up at them. “Why don’t you stop fucking touching me, and we can- mmph!”

Whumpee sputtered back as Whumper shoved the cloth in their mouth, prying it in deeper and deeper between the molars until Whumpee’s jaw ached. They thrashed their head from side to side, but Whumper managed to push it in place, murmuring as they went. “You’re so unnecessarily chatty. I don’t need your mouth for this. I just need you to behave.”

Whumpee's skin crawled as Whumper's fingers gripped their jaw. They squeezed their eyes shut and tucked their face to the side - into the shelter of their arm - but Whumper dragged it back to center. Their thumb - still wet from the water - made long, slow strokes across their cheek. "Pathetic," they murmured. "You can't fight this. So why try?"

Whumpee bit down further into the rag, silently begging for the touch to stop. It didn't.

A slight, tingling burn filled their mouth as the soapy water leeched out of the cloth.

Whumper's grip loosened. They brushed a thumb over Whumpee's strained lip. “You do look cute like this. But now I don’t even have a rag. How selfish of you.” They were biting back a smile as their fingers skimmed back down to Whumpee’s collarbone. “I guess I'll have to use my hands instead.” Their hand dipped back into the water.

Within moments, Whumpee was kicking back again. They jolted, curling their legs up as Whumper’s hand slipped further down.

Whumper laughed at that. “You’re going to make me chain your ankles too, aren’t you?" They paused. "Actually…on second thought, that could be fun.”

Whumpee’s muscles were already quaking with the effort of keeping their legs pulled up so tightly. They hoped their useless whimper got lost in the gag. If it didn’t, Whumper didn’t seem to mind.

“Go on, keep fighting me.” They trailed a finger up Whumpee’s thigh. “Give me a reason to break you.”

.

tags: I'm not tagging people for this because some of yall don't have ages in your bios and I'm not tagging you for NSFW anything - if you wanna read this, find it on your own 😅

Whump Prompts: Muzzles

Content: Vampire whumpee, burns, muzzles, conditioning, recovery, starvation.

Whumper forcing Caretaker to muzzle Whumpee for them.

Whumpee doesn't want to take the muzzle off because they're conditioned to believe that they're dangerous.

Whumpee always having a muzzle on them because they'll bite chunks of skin off otherwise.

A vampire whumpee having to wear a muzzle for everyone's safety because they're so hungry that they can't control themselves.

The muzzle on Whumpee's face being so small that they can't physically open their mouths or breathe properly.

Whumpee secretly keeping the muzzle Whumper always used on them after their escape to feel some sort of normalcy in their new life.

Whumpee's muzzle also having a bit attached to it that sits in Whumpee's mouth when they've got it on.

Trying to pry the muzzle off the second Whumper isn't looking.

Caretaker having to throw the muzzle away within Whumpee's eyesight just so they know it's gone forever.

The heavy breathing Whumpee does through their nose because they can't open their mouth.

Whumper poking their finger through one of the holes in Whumpee's muzzles to tease them or yank them around.

One of Whumper's workers trying to feed Whumpee through the muzzle because they feel bad for them.

A vampire whumpee with a muzzle made of silver strapped to their face.

Whumpee who's conditioned to hate leaving the house because it means they've got to put on a muzzle.

DEADTHING!

A gender for when you're dead, but living. A Thing walking among everyone else.

I have no set DNI. Do not be a dick on this post.

Whump Tropes: Legs

Legs shaking, refusing to hold still while Whumpee hides. The shaking getting more and more uncontrollable as Whumper’s footsteps click closer.

Whumper trailing their fingers up Whumpee’s thighs while they whisper calm, quiet threats in their ear. Bonus points if they’re pressed up against a wall.

Kneecaps cracking against stone as Whumper forces them to kneel with a firm hand on their shoulder. Or pulling them down, fingers knotted in their hair.

Whumpee hugging their knees to their chest, rocking themselves to sleep on the cold hard ground.

“I love how your muscles twitch when I run the knife behind your knees. Are you ticklish, dalrling? Let’s hope not. You’ll have to stay very still for this.”

Legs giving out when Whumpee stands too fast. Bonus points if Whumper catches them, holding them close as their vision goes black.

Whumper slowly and delicately carving patterns into Whumpee’s thighs as they pant and struggle to hold still.

The warm tickle of blood dripping down the whole length of Whumpee’s leg.

“You have such beautiful legs. So soft and smooth. But…don’t you think that gets a little boring? Let’s give them a little character.”

Wumpee running through a wooded area at top speed only to crumple to the ground as their ankle snaps on the uneaven terrain.

Then, Whumpee trying not to scream as they pull their broken ankle close, trying desperately to manage the pain as they scoot or crawl off the path before Whumper catches up.

I’m a big fan of boots cracking femurs. Especially if Whumper is standing so tall above them, ever so slowly increasing pressure until the crack and scream.

“Your back is still healing, but the whip leaves such lovely patterns. Let’s try your thighs instead.”

Whumper sitting on Whumpee’s legs to keep them down they writhe and squirm.

Whumper removing legs so the Whumpee can’t run anymore. (Amputation is a whole category on its own, I’ll leave it there for this post)

Whumpee’s feet going numb when their ankles are bound too tightly. Trying to wriggle and stomp to get the blood flowing.

Then, the prickling pain when the blood does finally come back.

Whumpee trying to run only to weaken immediately, realizing how much their muscle has deteriorated over months of being stagnant.

Legs bound together.

Legs bound open.

The rope patterns etched into Whumpee’s skin when Whumpee finally removes the binding.

Rug burn ripping up their calves and thighs as Whumpee is dragged away (bonus points if they’d dragged by their hair or one arm).

Whumpee watching as their thighs get smaller and smaller, wondering how much of them can waste away before their heart gives up on life.

“Try to kick me again and those lovely legs of yours will be covered in blood.”

Whumpee embarrassed as they have to clutch on to Whumper to keep from falling when their legs are to exhausted to stand on. How Whumper is suddenly so kind, holding them close and safe as their legs tremble.

Whumper’s blade peeling thin, long strips of skin up from Whumper’s thighs.

Whumpee’s hands shaking around a knife Whumper left plunged in their thigh. Trying to work up the courage to pull it out, not knowing how they will stop the blood or if they should leave it in until Whumepr returns.

Lukewarm water scalding frost bitten legs as Whumpee is forced into the tub. Whumpee screaming as they try to thrash away, splashing more of it across their body.

Legs going numb when Whumper leaves Whumpee tied to a chair for too long.

Warmth spreading down Whunpee’s leg as fear consumes them and their bladder lets go.

Hammers. Kneecaps.

“The Achilles’ tendon is vital for walking. If I were to cut right here- No no, stop fighting me. Squirming won’t get you out of those ropes, you’ll just piss me off more.”

Grit biting into Whunpee’s knees as they try to crawl away.