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jordanstrophe · 1 year

Note

Hi! Would you write some comfort whump? The prompt is that Whumpee’s sick and very delirious, imagining *things* that aren’t true and recalling past traumas. Surely, Caretaker’s there to help them to get through the tiny episode of madness…

Hello there! You had me at ･ﾟ:✧comfort✧:･ﾟ

CW: Blood, injuries, hallucinations, fever, hurt/comfort, splashed with some soft caretaking

Whumpee stood in front of the steamed bathroom mirror clutching the sides of the sink.

After being captured, they brought home a fever that was stubborn to shake. Caretaker was worried sick about it, checking their temperature nearly every hour.

With the side of their hand, they wiped a streak of steam from the mirror. Their eyes suddenly widened and they stepped back from their own reflection.

Staring back was not what they are; but what they were once before - Hallow soulless eyes, dark rims telling days of restless nights, bruises on their lip, cheek and brow. Blood splatter across their face; their own blood.

They recoiled and tried to wipe it, but nothing seemed to want to come off. Their eyes grew more frantic as they whimpered, scrubbing their face harder and harder until the bridge of their nose turned red and the bruising turned black.

Their ears rang and they swore they could hear whumper's voice behind it. They could hear their blood splattering, their heart pounding in their head, pain from every wound like they were being torn open-

The ringing came to a halt when a gentle knock rattled on the door.

"Whumpee? You've been in there for awhile. No rush! I'm just checking to see if you're alright." Their voice rang.

"I can't get it off!" Whumpee sobbed, crumpling to the floor on their knees. "I keep trying and it's not coming off! Why won't it come off!?" Whumpee sobbed.

The door immediately burst with almost brute force. Whumpee felt themselves be scooped into caretaker's arms and their face get cupped by either side of their jaw. Whumpee was practically clawing at their face, still desperate to wash the blood off.

"Whumpee it's okay, I'm here, look at me," Caretaker pushed the panic to the back of their throat and pulled whumpee's hands away from their face. Whumpee held their breath and squeezed their eyes shut. They violently trembled and gasped for air.

"Whumpee, sweetheart..." Caretaker quietly muttered, their voice full of sadness. "You're alright. Hey, hey look at me, you're alright. Deep breaths." Caretaker cupped their face more comfortingly, their fear morphing into concern.

"Wh-what?" Whumpee blinked their eyes open. It was only then did they realize they were on their knees shaking on the floor. They quickly wiped sweat off their forehead and let Caretaker pull them to their feet.

"Look." Caretaker nodded to the mirror. Whumpee glanced at caretaker nervously, before hesitantly approaching the mirror afraid of what was in it.

Inside the streak was their face, maybe a bit red and feverish still, but not a drop of blood, not a single bruise (although there were a few smalls ones to form soon) and a healthy-nourished complexion thanks to caretaker nursing them with breakfast every morning and dinner every night.

They swayed on their feet as caretaker stood behind them and clutched the back of their arms. "Easy, you're still healing... Are you in pain?" They asked.

"N-... No." Whumpee breathed, touching their face with their fingertips. "No, not at all..." They repeated, sounding more confused than relieved.

"Why don't we go back to bed and I'll bring you a tea, okay?" Caretaker coaxed, already pulling them away from their reflection without waiting for an answer. Whumpee nodded and let themself be led and tucked into bed. Caretaker checked their temperature and sighed.

"Ah, that explains it, your fever went up again. I'll get you some medicine and an icepack." They spoke matter-of-factly. They were about to rush off before they were stopped by whumpee grabbing their hand.

"Caretaker?" Whumpee tried to speak up, but their voice came out weak. Caretaker looked back with a flash of worry.

"Thank you..." They spoke with a small genuine smile.

Caretaker gave them a watery smile and squeezed their hand back.

"Of course, of course." They responded, like they would do it again a thousand times.

The drabble group- @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog @whump-it-like-its-hot @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @whatwhumpcomments @hamiltonwhumpdump @as-a-matter-of-whump @lonesome–hunter @digitalart-dwa @mabledonut @melancholy-in-the-morning @anonintrovert @sunflower1000 @shywhumpauthor @dont-touch-my-soup @batfacedliar-yetagain @uvanuva @princessofonwardsworld @bluesoulpeace @whumpkitty @veyroswin

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whump-queen · 2 years

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Break their ankles

An intrusive whump thought of the day

Content: broken bones, intimate whumper, medical whump, ptsd, brief needle & drug mention.

A whumpee with broken ankles desperately crawling for the door, clawing at it uselessly after whumper has slammed it shut, sobbing and begging to be let go.

Or trying to crawl away from whumper, painfully dragging their limp, broken bones along the floor behind them.

An amused whumper sitting and watching it happen, laughing at whumpee’s pathetic attempts to get away, knowing that whenever they’ve decided their captive has gotten far enough, they can yank them back by the chain around their neck and drag them back over with ease. What’re they gonna do, fight back?

Whumpee being forced to rely on whumper for every little thing despite loathing them with every fiber of their being.

Whumper having to carry them everywhere (bridal style)

Bonus points if it’s an intimate whumper and they scoop them up and coo sweet things into whumpee’s ear all “aw, poor sweet thing, don’t worry, I’ve got you,” While whumpee sobs hopelessly into their captor’s chest, disgusted with the closeness and absolutely horrified and ashamed at how helpless they feel like this.

Or maybe whumpee tries to claw their way out of their captor’s arms, and whumper just drops them, laughing at how useless and pathetic they look when they collapse in a crying heap on the floor, unable to go anywhere without whumper’s help.

More bonus points if the bones don’t heal properly and they can never walk quite right again, or if standing or walking for too long causes sharp pains to shoot up through their ankles and they collapse from the agony.

If they ever get a recovery arc, having to get their ankles rebroken and reset to heal properly— The sensation of their ankles breaking all over again bringing back horribly traumatic flashbacks, feeling like they’re back with whumper again, that they’re being tortured again, until they’re screaming and begging and calling the doctors sir and sobbing desperately to be let go. The medical staff is horrified.

And maybe they’re writhing around and thrashing so much that they have to be restrained and sedated in order for the medical staff to reset their freshly broken bones.

A nurse jamming a needle into their neck and emptying an entire syringe into their bloodstream with an “It’s alright, sweetheart, this is for your own good.”

Whumpee in a full-scale flashback begging through tears when they feel the needle, “please, please no— please sir, please don’t, please don’t do this— I— I’ve been good— please I— I can’t—please-“ until the sedative kicks in and their head lolls to the side.

Feel free to add your own prompts/ thoughts! this trope won’t leave my head rn

More prompts like this

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rizzoto-whump · 11 months

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Military whump, but the focus is on civilians:

Whumpee watches helplessly as their once-peaceful town is ripped apart by bombs and gunfire, struggling to accept that life will never be the same again.

As the war wages on, Whumpee feels an immense sense of helplessness as they are unable to do anything to protect their loved ones.

As supplies become scarce, Whumpee witnesses the slow deterioration of their once close-knit community as neighbors turn against each other in desperate attempts to survive.

As the death toll rises, Whumpee becomes numb to the constant tragedy, struggling to feel anything at all.

The constant barrage of explosions and gunfire invade Whumpee's dreams, blurring the line between the waking world and terrifying nightmares.

Envy and bitterness consume Whumpee as they gaze upon a photograph of their old classmates, untouched by the devastation of war, enjoying a simple day at the beach.

#whump #whump prompt #military whump #psychological whump #environmental whump #exhaustion #guilt #war whump #angst #Hurt no comfort #emotional whump #hero #anxiety whump #ptsd whump #traumatized whumpee

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bestwhumptropes · 20 days

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Thoughts on ptsd symptoms for a whumpee who was often electrocuted (via VERY strong taser)?

ooh okay!! i had to do a little research but an electric shock can cause a lot of long-term damage: physical, neurological, and psychological. to focus on the PTSD element, here's what i found from some case studies.

-Irritability, frustration, anger, and physically aggressive behaviour have been described after electrical injury in persons without preinjury mood or personality disorders.

-they might experience all the common symptoms of PTSD including mood changes, flashbacks, nightmares and insomnia, behavioral changes, etc.

-i couldn't find anything about what potential flashback triggers might be, but i can imagine it might include things like being cornered, situations in which another party might have a weapon, lingering physical pains like neuropathy, loud sounds, burns, and any other things that might remind the person of the specific circumstances of their injury.

thanks for asking me things and i hope this was helpful in some way!

#whump #please correct me if any of this is incorrect #it's just what i could find researching #electrocution whump #ptsd whump #emotional whump #torture whump #i'm adding the whump tag to all of these so that they don't show up in any like. actual searches of people seeking ptsd support #but lmk if that's not the right way to do this!#tw electrocution #tw ptsd

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whumpers-inc · 11 months

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The room was so cold. Whumpee shuddered. From under the door, freezing drafts curled around them in a cold embrace. They wrapped their arms around themselves and glanced at Caretaker.

Caretaker was slumped against the floor. Whumpee shuffled over and stroked a hand over their hair. “It’s gonna be over now. Whumper will be here soon.”

Caretaker didn’t respond. Their face was an icy pale except for the crimson blood oozing down their cheek.

Whumpee continued stroking their hair. They ignored the cut. “It’s better like this. Whumper knows what to do. He’s going to fix both of us.”

The door creaked. Whumper stood in the doorway. They raised a knife. A sharp grin bared all their teeth. They stepped forward, closer, closer, clo-

“No!” Whumpee sat bolt upright. Sweat slicked their hair. They gasped, heartbeat racing. They couldn’t get enough air. They were choking.

Throwing off the sheets, they swung their legs off the bed, clenching the side of the mattress.

No no no no. Itwasjustadreamitwasjustadreamitwasjustadream. It hadn’t happened. It wouldn’t happen. They wouldn’t go back. They wouldn’t take Caretaker.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker peeked into the room. “Hey." Their face creased with concern as they took in Whumpee,

Whumpee, sobbing, didn’t answer as Caretaker settled beside them. “Did you dream you were back at Whumper’s?” they asked gently.

Whumpee sobbed harder. “Yes. And-and-and-” tears choked the words out “-I took you back with me.”

“Oh.” Caretaker’s hand rubbed steady circles on Whumpee’s back. “It was just a dream. I know you wouldn’t do that. You know you wouldn’t do that.”

Whumpee “You don’t know that. I might be a terrible person.” Whumpee choked. “Whumper said-”. They sniffled, snot mixed with tears. “Whumper said that-”

“No. No. No. You are not a bad person. Okay?” Caretaker gripped Whumpee’s shoulders, forcing their chin up. “You are a good person. And I love you.” They pulled whumpee into a tight hug. “I always will.”

Whumpee sniffled as they leaned into Caretaker’s shoulder. “I love you more.”

Caretaker smiled as they gently untangled themselves from Whumpee. "And I love you most. Now let's get you some sleep."

#whump drabble #whump scene #whump scenario #nightmare whump #ptsd whump #???#fear whump

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tildeathiwillwrite · 4 days

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Writing Requests Are Now Open! (100-Follower Special)

Hello there! As it says on the title, I am as of right now taking writing requests! 82.7% of voters said yes on my poll, so here we are!

What I Will Write:

most whump tropes

one-shots (fandom or original)

oc requests

pretty much anything not listed on the Will Not Write list

What I Will Not Write:

smut

nsfw (the closest I will get is noncon nonsexual touching)

My Favorite Things to Write:

used as bait

magic whump

captivity whump

sickfic

ptsd whump

immortal whump

realism in whump

anything with my ocs

My WIP masterposts are linked in my intro if you want to find ocs for me to torture and/or examples of the listed tropes and my writing style.

I reserve the right to change the above lists at any time. If your request falls under the Will Not Write List it will be deleted. If I'm not in a fandom for a requested ficlet I will let you know (but I'm in a lot of fandoms, so pretty unlikely. But if so, recs are 100% welcome). Finally, there is no guarantee as to when I will get to your request.

Thank you for helping me celebrate this milestone!

#i love you guys so much #writing requests #requests open #requests are open #tumblr milestone #100 followers #100 follower special #used as bait #magic whump #captivity whump #sickfic #ptsd whump #immortal whump #realism in whump #oc whump

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raggedbreathwhump · 1 year

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Whumpfic: The Hunt (Part 3)

Setting/fandom: Generic futuristic spy-fi.

Content warnings: Torture, PTSD, brainwashing, implied noncon, suicidal thoughts, self-destructive coping mechanisms

Word count: 9906

Rating: T

Summary:

On a distant, intellectual level, he's infuriatingly aware of what's happening to him, of how precisely these blue emergency lights match the ones that would light up in his cell.

Lunch breaks, Zack has found, get surprisingly tedious when you don't have much of an appetite.

There is an unspoken understanding at the agency that breaks are not optional. Tales are still exchanged of the time an agent had collapsed on the job after opting out of them one time too many, and the ensuing lecture from the boss has the workplace in a state of fear. Thus, there was an understanding that Zack take a break from his work somewhere around lunchtime, but even so, no one could force him to actually eat.

Another thing he and Rickard have in common.

"We're consuming them, technically," Rickard had pointed out once, on their little spot on the roof terrasse, working through his cigarette stub. "That's practically a full meal."

Zack had found it funny, though he hadn't said anything. Too busy enjoying the smoke.

Lately, their lunchtime time-killing has shifted into a... different type of venue. More secluded.

A storage closet, today. Out of the way, the door latched shut behind them. It mainly holds defunct electronic and engineering components, which means that apart from Zack, practically nobody ever uses it.

Rickard pushes him back against the door in an unsteady kiss. Zack tastes alcohol, confirming his hunch that Rickard was already semi-drunk before noon today. He isn't sure if others haven't noticed and he is getting better at tracking Rickard's mannerisms, and if so, how alarming that might be. Just like the fact that their little breaks are starting to become a habit.

Still, he can't say he minds. It's a welcome distraction, physical and meaningless. It's like they both know they're making a mistake, but keep hurtling into it time after time anyway, because who even cares about mistakes?

Rickard doesn't bother unbuttoning his shirt, just goes straight for the belt as he pulls them closer together. His coat drapes in folds around them, enveloping Zack – it's not unlike being fondled by a strange, very lean scarecrow. Zack mouths at his jaw, stubbly and a bit salty, and Rickard growls, arms going around Zack's waist and maneuvering him away from the door, and against the edge of some storage crates.

Zack stills. Something is different. Not Rickard - it's not the first time they've gone for a quickie somewhere out of the way, so what is it? While the man fumbles with his own belt, leaning over him with a hand braced on the wall, Zack tries to zero in on what feels off, all of a sudden, and why his heart is pounding, his skin tingling with a cold sweat. Maybe it's the crate. It's probably the crate. His knee gives a throb, phantom pain spiking up from his memory.

“You good?” Rickard mutters through a kiss to his throat that smells like whiskey. The cheap light bulb frames his shape like a halo. Zack tries to remember what they were doing, and Rickard's hands have stopped, but they're still on him, so it doesn't take long.

Then Rickard snaps his fingers in front of Zack's face, and he blinks.

“...Tell you what,” Rickard says slowly, a look on his face Zack can't quite decipher, and disentangles himself. He watches Zack's face for a long, uncomfortable moment, and chews on his lip. “How about this time, we actually eat something, instead. Just to keep things fresh.”

“Alright,” Zack finds himself agreeing. “Go on ahead. I'll catch up.” He just needs a moment.

Rickard looks hesitant, but nods and slips out the door. With some relief, Zack hisses out a breath. He stares at the wall as he tucks his shirt back in and straightens his tie, smoothes down his hair. Something is off, and he wants nothing more than to... leave, certainly, but leave where? Maybe the bathroom, splash some water on himself. Cool off a little.

Rickard's already outside, and probably halfway to the cafeteria by now. Zack waits for longer than he means to, seemingly trapped under that light. He remembers eventually that he did actually mean to grab some supplies here. An M5 semiconductive transposer and... what else? He had a list.

Shaking his head clear, he reaches into his pocket for a crumpled scrap of paper and peers over it, struggling to parse his handwriting in the low light.

The light flickers and fizzles out. Zack has a moment to feel utterly annoyed as he's plunged into complete darkness, not keen on the idea of searching the room for the things he needs with only his arm LED.

Then the blue emergency lights come on in narrow strips lining the ceiling. Zack's thoughts grind to a halt.

The blue lights pulse. The room is eerie, silent, and the air too thick to breathe.

Zack sluggishly fumbles for the light switch without looking. Flips it half a dozen times. It doesn't help.

His hand finds the handle and he stumbles out of the room, slams the door shut behind him, takes in the hallway.

It's worse in the hallway. Empty and hollow, with no windows in sight. (There were no windows in the closet, either. But then, you wouldn't expect there to be.)

Zack presses himself back against the wall, flat as he can. If he can melt into it, maybe he can disappear, stop existing entirely. Lead in his stomach, his blood pounding in his temples. He can't hear himself breathe.

His audio uplink clicks and the voice of one of the agency aides speaks neutrally to him. “Attention, all personnel. A city-wide power outage is currently in effect. The building has switched to emergency power. There is currently no indication of a hostile purpose to this blackout, but you are encouraged to be vigilant. Please remain on standby.”

As soon as the voice is gone, he can't tell if he's imagined it. Zack doesn't need to be told to remain on standby, not when he can't even move, can't even speak. On a distant, intellectual level, he's infuriatingly aware of what's happening to him, of how precisely these blue emergency lights match the ones that would light up in his cell when Diego returned for another one of their little 'chats', compelled by boredom and that fascination with someone he couldn't quite remember. Being aware of it isn't enough to stop the helpless weight of dread pressing down on his lungs.

The hand in his hair cups his chin, brushes over his lips

“Zack?” This voice is definitely real, and he can't tell how or when Rickard got back here. “What are you- oh, fuck.” Rickard is reaching for his arm, squeezing it, then presses at his throat to feel his racing pulse. Zack wants nothing more than to tell him to shove off and mind his own business, he's fine, but he can't make a sound.

“Here.” The flask is extended to him, and Zack stares at it blankly for several moments. It glints strangely in the blue light. Rickard sighs and steps closer, unscrews the cap and seizes Zack by the shoulder-

Squeaking noises – bottle-cap again, and his head is being held up again as water sloshes down his throat. He coughs, convulsing, and tries to swallow

Zack flinches away.

“For fuck's sake. Suit yourself,” Rickard grunts, takes a swig, screws the cap back on. Zack stares at it, transfixed. He's jarred out of it when Rickard elbows him. “Don't you have a light thingmajig?” At Zack's blank look, he sighs and elaborates. “On your wrist. Arm. Whatever you call that thing.” He taps his own forearm for emphasis.

Even so, it takes Zack a moment to catch on. His wrist. Arm. His datapad's holoprojector. Right. The one briefly considered using as a light before the emergency light went on.

He taps at the keys to bring it up. With no HUD preset, it simply emits orange light in a soft halo.

“It's not meant for this kind of use,” he finds himself saying, his own voice distant, like through a curtain of water. “The light won't reach far.” He's speaking, but he can't feel his lips move. He's fine. He's fine as long as he's focused on that yellow light.

“Good enough,” Rickard grunts. He eyes Zack's face, chewing on his lip like he wishes he could be smoking right now. Whatever he considers voicing, he decides against it. He starts walking down the hallway. “Let's go. Power'll be back soon and I don't want them wandering where we've been.”

Zack finally moves from the spot he's been rooted on, trailing after him as if Rickard is the one with the light and not him. They walk in silence.

Slowly, slowly, the crushing dread gives way to gratitude, but he keeps his silence.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “The boss needs to know.”

“What? No.”

“You were cleared for field duty what, last week? You can't go out there. Not after what just happened. You think a fucking enforcer would wait and let you get your breath back?”

“She can't know. If she thinks there's something wrong with me, she may never let me back in there.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“You're joking, right?”

“I'm just saying. Maybe you're more useful in here, anyway. There aren't that many people who can do what you do, anyway.”

“I'm trained to be in the field. It's who I am. I... I need it, even if it's only once in a while.”

“Not if it gets you killed. Not if it gets someone else killed.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“Hell yeah. If you don't tell the boss, I will.”

“That's rich, coming from you.”

“Fuck you, Zack.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

#whump #whump fic #emotional whump #ptsd whump #espionage #spy fi #whumpfic: the hunt

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sun-snatcher · 1 month

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hello! i love ur work and i was wondering if u could do some live action zuko angst (that makes ur heart sink) and then it progresses to fluff (that makes ur heart swell) please? HAHA idk if it makes sense but i rlly love ur work!! hope ure doing well n no pressure!!!

🐉・ HEARTBURN

summ. Fresh from his banishment, Zuko faces the aftermath of his punishment in both his dreams and his waking hours. pairing. Zuko x f!reader (established relationship) w.count. 1k. a/n. A bit abstract on this one, but just typical dream logic. A glimpse at Zuko’s descent into madness, almost? Sorry anon if this is mostly angst than fluff! 🧎🏻‍♀️

Zuko’s dreams manifest at the scent of burnt flesh and the sound of his own screaming.

He feels the molten sting of a melting crown upon his skin and the fantastical beast that is his father; something monstrous— something scaled, fanged, clawed, and too large an appetite, with a touch and breath of fire that lights the skies in a blaze.

( He wakes up with his voice hoarse from screaming. The 41st Division will eventually learn early on not to mention it. They just leave a hot pot of tea ready for him come the mornings, by General Iroh's orders. )

Sometimes, it transgresses. Sometimes, it’s his mother who burns while he watches from the sidelines of the Agni Kai; Or Azula. Their shrieks mix with his when he wakes.

Sometimes, it’s Iroh who scalds him. Great Dragon of the West, jasmine-white with razor teeth and a flame that burns as hot as the sun; serpent eyes a shining gold and a sharper tongue that spoke of his disappointment for his nephew.

Sometimes, it begins with you.

Please, you beg, at the foot of a winged beast. It speaks in the voice of his father; damning, all-encompassing. It warns the Prince the price of compassion, of mercies, and of weaknesses. Eliminate her, or I will.

Rarely does Zuko ever move. He’d plead in your name, to spare your life. It never happens; he just wakes to the smell of smoke and the sound of your screaming.

( There are dreams he doesn’t speak at all to defend you. The shame devours him whole. )

“I’ve killed you over a hundred times, in my sleep.”

In the aftermath of another nightmare, you turn to face Zuko. You’re not quite sure what to say.

“Other nights, it’s the 41st, or Uncle,” he says, quietly. “Even mom, or Azula.”

You turn back to the small medical chest on the desk. The infirmary is quieter at times like these; the soldiers of the 41st know not to visit the usual haunts of their Prince. Tonight, Zuko will have to replace the bandages of his scar, and there are only two people on this ship he’d ever trust in his life to lay a hand on it.

You’re shifting towards where he’s sitting on one of the cots. “May I?”

( You ask. You always ask. Even when you’ve done this nearly fifty times, you ask. Zuko is glad; there’s a comfort in agency, especially when he’s gotten so used to losing it every time he sleeps. )

He nods, and you make quick work to unravel the bandages. When the layers come away, you observe the way his left eye shuts and opens as he blinks, remaining half-closed into a permanent expression of pain. He looks away, downcast.

The skin around is stretched taut, some areas rawer than others, marred with growing scar tissue that knots in twisting valleys. ( Zuko has only seen the scar once. He’s covered the mirrors in his room ever since; avoids glancing at his own passing reflections. )

The wound is still fresh; the memories fresher.

You don’t flinch at the sight or recoil like the other soldiers or dignitaries.

He finds… solace in that.

( Something roils in his mind. It uncurls and hisses and growls. )

“Tilt your head for me,” you say, ready to replace the cotton on his eye with a new one.

He stops your wrist just as you do.

Your heart jumps at the contact. His hands are warm.

“Why?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion.

“Why’d you come with me?”

The reply is instant, and unintentionally drowned in affection. “Where else would I have belonged?”

Zuko almost answers instinctively: With me. By my side. He shakes his head.

“You should have never come,” he says, instead. He’d grown fond of you over the years. Too fond; over some Firenation colonel’s daughter, a force to be reckoned with and yet a childhood friend who he’d played and studied and fought with countless times. Fond enough that he’d been foolish to let you step foot into the ship of the 41st Division the day he’d been banished; fond enough to be foolish enough to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. “You could’ve had a better future back home.”

“But a miserable one,” you counter.

His nostrils flare as he sighs. You watch the way his brows weave to a frown, the way they always did whenever he’s tamping down his frustration. "Nothing is more miserable than being banished from home. Yet here you are walking away from it.”

“You and I both know the palace was never a home for me,” you say. “I’ve been by your side my entire life. I’m not about to break that streak over some punishment. You matter to me.”

Zuko’s heart stifles.

( Compassion, he hears the wings of the blood-red dragon in his dreams unfurl. Compassion is a sign of weakness. )

“It was a stupid move,” he blurts, letting go of you. He had wanted it to be emotionless, but it comes out as distinctively bitter: “Sooner or later you’ll come to regret your decision. Then, you’ll see I was right all along.”

“Maybe,” you say, just to appease him. “But I doubt it.”

( Lies, jeers the serpent. You have only yourself to rely on in this world, Zuko. )

For the sake of conversation, you don’t provoke him further. You continue, instead, with replacing the dressings around his eye. He’s angry enough as is with the world— with you. For being stubborn. And strong. And steadfast. And loyal. And—

Zuko glances at your face in focus, your hands so careful in binding the gauze it’s nearly featherlight. “Tell me if it hurts,” you say, with gentle authority.

The ire leaves his body. Zuko’s gaze softens at a realisation:

“Not once have you ever hurt me. Not even in my dreams.”

It’s a statement so frighteningly vulnerable that it has you stilling. Your breath staggers. Something swells in your chest. You let your hand rest on his cheek, thumb below his scar. The touch is reassuring. Zuko wants to lean into it.

“I don’t think I ever could,” you answer, honestly.

( She can, sings the beast. She will. And once she does, know that it will burn tenfold than what I've done. )

Zuko's hand settles on top of yours.

“You can hurt me,” he concedes, solemn, voice barely above a whisper. “You can if you must. I command it.”

( The dragon in his head hisses. For now, it retreats. )

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jump-in-the-whump · 3 months

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Whumpee doesn’t really understand what is going on, everything is happening so fast and their head is pounding so bad.

“hey, can you hear me? Whumpee?” A voice calls out their name. Whumpee raises their head.

“i-i... don’t... understand....i-i...” Whumpee rasps out, before a coughing fit interrupts him.

“shh, don't force yourself too much. I'll explain everything later, now I'm here and I just wanna help you, ok?”

Whumpee is in so much pain, it's hard to breathe. They’re so weak, they lean onto Caretaker, drowning in their quiet words and soft movements. A tear escapes Whumpee’s eye. It's been so long since they were treated like this, like a human being.

"Caretaker..... " Whumpee manages to say, with a weak, raspy voice.

“Yeah, that's right, I am Caretaker. I am here and I won't let them hurt you anymore..." Caretaker whispers, hugging Whumpee, caressing their dirty, greasy hair. Whumpee winces in pain and can't help but cry, the happiness and comfort are too much for them to manage.

#whump drabble #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump community #caretaker #whumpee x caretaker #weak #captivity #hurt/comfort #rescue #whumpee #whump #ptsd #jump-in-the-writing

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 8 months

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how to write a character who suffers a PTSD from their past toxic relationship, how they can react / what they might say in certain situations

trigger warnings for abuse, domestic violence, ed

how they can react in certain situations

✘ avoid making eye contact, but will look up to meet caretaker’s eyes immediately if caretaker tells them to — for instance, caretaker is concerned about whumpee who keeps their gaze on the floor all the time; so, without thinking, caretaker says, “ look at me”. it doesn’t matter if they say it in a soft, comforting tone, they immediately regret it because whumpee quickly jerks their head up to meet caretaker’s eyes, fully thinking caretaker will hurt them if they don’t obey.

✘ whumpee is used to receiving orders. they don’t understand the concept of saying no and not being punished for it. so anything caretaker asks them to do (keyword; ask, whumpee can absolutely say no), whumpee will comply whether or not they want to (but they will do their best to make sure it looks like they want to).

✘ avoid staying in a crowded room or even an open space. whumpee will most likely seek comfort from some quiet corner where they’re away from anybody and nobody can bother them.

✘ an open space where there’s no one around can also bother whumpee, because it’s not just about being surrounded by a lot of people that’s triggering to whumpee. being alone in an open space can make whumpee feel extremely exposed, like an easy target.

✘ so mostly, whumpee will seek some quiet corner where they are alone and aren’t easily seen.

✘ they don’t like being the center of attention or being talked about. because this can also make them feel vulnerable, uncomfortable and exposed.

✘ physical touch that comes with no heads up, the ones that catch whumpee off guard, can result in a terrible reaction from whumpee, even if it’s an act of affection (a hug, a friendly pat on the shoulder, etc), because whumpee has already associated all kind of physical contact with pain and violence. so if someone touches them, they reflexively expect it to hurt.

✘ being jumpy in general. they may flinch away at any loud noise, any physical touch.

✘ lack of opinions in general. if they have to engage in a conversation where more than two people are talking about something, whumpee will remain quiet. not because they’re shy but because they 1.) think their opinions don’t matter 2.) are afraid they might say something wrong that’ll get them punished 3.) don’t want to risk speaking out of turn.

✘ whumpee expect themself to be punished if they make a mistake, doesn’t matter how small the mistake is — for instance, whumpee accident knocks over a glass of water, causing it to shatter, and immediately starts to panic, because they believe they will get punished for it.

✘ the rules whumper previously set for whumpee may still be effective for whumpee, even if they’re with caretaker now; whumpee still follows whimper’s rules because 1.) it’s an old habit 2.) they just want to stay safe.

✘ they can react poorly to food. whumpee may have no appetite at all, and can develop a wave of anxiety that can lead to nausea if they’re forced to eat. (this doesn’t mean caretaker is supposed to just let them starve though, only that it can be challenging and caretaker has to be very careful about how they approach this, how they handle the situation to help whumpee.)

✘ insomnia. whumpee having trouble sleeping at night, this can cause them to feel tired during daytime.

things they can say in certain situations

✘ “it’s okay.”

✘ “I’m used to it.”

✘ “I can be good. I’ll be good.”

✘ “I don’t deserve this.” (on being shown kindness)

✘ “it’s what I deserve.” (on being hurt)

✘ “why are you kind to me?”

✘ “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” (on making a mistake)

✘ “please, don’t be mad at me.”

✘ “I’ll do better next time.”

✘ “you’re not angry?”

✘ “it’s up to you”

✘ “either is fine with me.” (on being asked to pick something or to give an opinion)

✘ “it’s my fault.”

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whumpypepsigal · 1 year

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Shadow and Bone s02e01: Kaz’s PTSD triggered flashbacks —:

“When night came, and the tide changed direction, Kaz forced himself to lay hands on Jordie’s body. He was too frail to swim on his own, but with Jordie’s help, he could float. He held tight to his brother and kicked towards the lights of Ketterdam. Together, they drifted, Jordie’s distended body acting as a raft. Kaz kept kicking, trying not to think of his brother, of the taut, bloated feel of Jordie’s flesh beneath his hands; he tried not to think of anything but the rhythm of his legs moving through the sea. He’d heard there were sharks in these waters, but he knew they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.”

Excerpt From Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo

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generic-whumperz · 8 months

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Oh buddy just you wait

*cue the night terrors

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simply-whump · 1 month

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In Blossom : Episode 12

>> Whump List

#in blossom #asian whump #whump #cdrama #chinese drama #liu xueyi #panic attack #collapse #ptsd #worry

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delicateprincepaper · 11 months

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Whump Trauma Tips

I just finished a three month long research, fieldwork, and interview project on trauma so I figured I'd put the knowledge to good use and write some tips on how to create realistic trauma whump

Trauma Denial= Your brain purposely forgetting about the trauma to protect you. Your character could be unable to heal becuase they couldn't process what happened to them, could suddenly remember the trauma all of a sudden or could recognize a abuser but block the trauma out so they don't know why they recognize them.

Trauma avoidance= Coping with trauma by avoiding all reminders of it. Your character could not do things they liked before becuase it reminds them of the trauma.

Triggers= Things that remind someone of the trauma and give them flashbacks or make them feel scared or angry. Your character could get triggered and not be sure why they felt that way, dislike someone becuase they something about them slightly triggers them or have a flashback and have a caretaker comfort them. A way to heal from triggers is by bringing them up again in a safe enviroment so you could write about that going wrong and the person having a panic attack.

Fight, flight or freeze= A common thing our body and mind do to help us get away from danger. This can extend well after the trauma is done. Freeze becomes staying in bed and dissociating, a coping mechanism where you disconnect from your enviroment. Flight becomes escaping from the negative emotions using alchol, drugs or risky behavior. Fight becomes hypervigilance, a constant state of scanning for threats and being stressed. Characters could be hypervigilant and see a caretaker as being threatening when they're just trying to help or be jumpy and punch someone who suprises them.

There's a lot more but i'm too lazy so please tell me if you find this helpful so I know to write more.

#trauma #whump ideas #whump scenario #whump #ptsd #scared whumpee #caretaker

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whumpwillow · 1 year

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writers be like:

#whump #whump memes #writing memes #this is actually because of me playing a text adventure game #well not really a game #more of just inputting stuff into chatgpt and seeing what happens #but yes i started out with a concept and now everyone has ptsd 😂

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 5 months

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The Grand A-Z List of Whump 2/3

This list contains ~174 items listed I to Q

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing. Whump is generally a 'dead dove' sort of topic, however it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This lists intention is to not glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This is a comprehensive list of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[A-H] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

ICU

Identity reveal

Ignorance is Bliss

Ignoring an Injury

Immersion foot syndromes (Prolonged exposure to damp and cold)

Immobilization

Immortal healed wrong

Immunodeficiency

Impalement

Improvised medicine/treatment

Indigestion

Infected (Blood, Wound, Tattoo etc)

Infested

Injured caretaker carrying an even more injured whumpee.

Injured whumpee instructs caretaker how to treat them.

Injury Discovery

Injury Revelation

Insecurity

Insomnia

Insults

Internal Bleeding

Interrogation

Interventions

Intimate whumper

Intubation

Involuntary whumper

Isolation

Isolation/Quarantine

Itching

Jailed

Jamais vu (The experience of being unfamiliar with a person or situation that is actually very familiar.)

Jealousy

Jet Lag

Jumping (to safety, forced to jump)

Just dying in general.

Keeping quiet because the enemy is nearby

Keeping the whumpee awake

Ketosis (body burning fat for energy)

Kidnapped by the opposing team

Kidnapping

Kidney Stones

Killed! (Again and again and again for the lovely immortal whumpees<;3)

Kneeling

Knife through hand and into wall/floor

Knocked Out

Lab Rat

Laryngitis

Late realisation

Left for dead

Leprosy

Lichenberg scars/Lightning strike

Limited Medical Supplies

Live-Streamed/Broadcast torture

Lobotomy

Locked Up and Left Behind

Losing a Bet

Loss of appetite

Loss of reality

Lost (In the woods, city etc)

Lost voice

Low Blood Pressure

Lumbago (lower back pain)

Lupus

Lured into a trap

Lying

Lyme's disease

Lymphoma

Magical exhaustion

Magical healing

Magic whump (using spells to harm someone)

Manhandling

Major Character Death

Makeshift Splints

Malaria

Malnutrition

Manhandling

Mauled

Measles

Medical trauma

Medieval Torture

Memory Loss

Meningitis

Menstrual Cramps

Mental illness after being kidnapping (and addressing it)

Migraine

Military lovers

Military whump

Mind control/Manipulation

Miscommunication

Missing

Missing Person

Mistaken Identity

Misunderstanding

Mono

Mopping a sweaty brow with a cool cloth

Mudslides

Muffled Scream

Mugging

Multiple Sclerosis

Multiple Whumpees

Multiple Whumpers

Mumps

Muscular Atrophy

Mute

Muzzled

Nailed to a wall or floor

Nails digging into palms

Nail marks left in the whumpees skin

Natural Disasters

Nausea

Near-Death Experience

Necrosis

Neglect

Nerve damage

Nerve pain

Nightmares

No anesthesia

No goodbyes

Non-responsiveness

Nonhuman whumpee

Not allowed to die

Not Realizing They’re Injured

Nowhere else to go

Noxious (gas/fumes)

Numb

Numbness/Paralysis

Obsession (with finishing the mission, the whumper obsessed with the whumpee etc)

Open Fracture

Orthostatic hypotension (low blood pressure when standing)

Osteogenesis Imperfecta (brittle bone disease)

Outnumbered

Overdose

Overworked

Oxygen Deprivation

Oxygen Mask

Packing a wound

Panic attacks

Paralysis (this could be temporary or permanent)

Paranoia

Parent caring for sick child

Parkinson's

Passing out from pain

Passing out in arms

Permanent injuries that affect them long term

Phantom pain

Phobias (could lead to character stumbling and hurting themselves in an attempt to escape their fear)

Photographs/Polaroids ( Especially if they're of the kidnapped whumpee)

Physical Therapy

Piercing ripped out

Pinched nerve

Pinned Down/To The Wall

Plague

PMS

Pneumonia

Pneumothorax

Poisoning

Polio

Possession/possession recovery

Post-exertional malaise

Post-ictal confusion/any other symptoms (after a seizure)

POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

Power Fatigue

Praise (especially if it's from the whumper)

Pregnancy (morning sickness, self-conscious, hot flushes, tired and sleepy, general malaise, swollen feet, weird cravings...)

Presumed dead

Prisoner Exchange

Protecting friend from the whumpees own team (bonus points if doing it while injured)

Psychological Torture

Psychological Whump

Psychosis

PTSD

Pulled Muscles

Puncture Wounds

Q-Fever

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

#whump #a-z list of whump #long post #extra long post #death tw #ptsd tw #illness tw #injury tw #angst #writing #prompts #whumpblr #a-z #a-z of whump #i-q

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