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Strong/powerful whumpees being held as trophies. They are showcased in front of anyone the Whumper wants to in-still fear in.

Whumper doesn’t ask Whumpee to do anything. Just stay silent. Stay still.

Maybe Whumpee is chained up, kept in a glass box?

Maybe Whumpee is muzzled?

Whumpee is kept weak so they can’t fight back. Drugged? Starved? Your choice.

Whumper wants them displayed to show their dominance. The ability to contain someone so powerful like it’s nothing.

Do with that what you will, besties x

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the problem with having an evil mastermind manipulator oc is that i am not particularly good at being any of those things

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trans people are allowed to have interests that are stereotypically associated with their assigned gender at birth

#transgender #trans pride #transgirl #trans boy #lgbtq+ #lgbtqia #pride

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Whumpees who are chronically disconnected from their body. Whumpees who get asked if their pain is sharp or dull and literally don’t know the answer. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re cold until someone points out they’re shaking. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re hungry until they black out from standing up too fast. Whumpee who genuinely can’t tell when they’re over exerting themself because it all feels the same. It’s not that they don’t feel pain, it’s that they’ve learned to see pain as something constant and unavoidable, not something to be fixed, and they can’t distinguish between different kinds of pain anymore. They’ve learned to ignore the signals from their body while they were powerless, and now that they can prevent or fix pain they still aren’t attuned enough to their body to know how.

Just… whumpees who learned dissociation as a coping skill and now have to unlearn it. Whumpees who deeply benefited from being disconnected until they were safe, making it that much harder to unlearn

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Whumpees who are chronically disconnected from their body. Whumpees who get asked if their pain is sharp or dull and literally don’t know the answer. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re cold until someone points out they’re shaking. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re hungry until they black out from standing up too fast. Whumpee who genuinely can’t tell when they’re over exerting themself because it all feels the same. It’s not that they don’t feel pain, it’s that they’ve learned to see pain as something constant and unavoidable, not something to be fixed, and they can’t distinguish between different kinds of pain anymore. They’ve learned to ignore the signals from their body while they were powerless, and now that they can prevent or fix pain they still aren’t attuned enough to their body to know how.

Just… whumpees who learned dissociation as a coping skill and now have to unlearn it. Whumpees who deeply benefited from being disconnected until they were safe, making it that much harder to unlearn

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Bathing in Whump

Ooo the vulnerability! The intimacy!

-Carefully positioning Whumpee in the bathtub to prevent their casts from getting wet.

-Helping Whumpee get in/out of their clothes before or after a bath if they're too beaten up.

-Blood being washed away, revealing huge bruises and scrapes.

-Caretaker carefully carding their hands through Whumpee's hair, washing out all of the dirt and blood.

-Bathwater stained pink from rehydrated blood.

-A sponge bath for a bed bound/unconscious Whumpee.

-Whumper forcing Whumpee to bathe in ice water, not allowing them to get out until they're suitably clean.

-Whumpee obsessively scrubbing their skin raw, desperate to get everything off of them.

-Soap stinging the small cuts on Whumpee's knees and elbows, the already inflamed skin becoming even more painful.

-Whumpee being so tired they almost fall asleep in the bath.

-On the Run Whumpee having to bathe in unclean river water.

-Sick Whumpee having to take a cool bath to break their fever, shivering all the while.

-The implicit trust and nonsexual intimacy of allowing someone to help you bathe, love it!

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whumper keeping tiny whumpee in one of these, lighting the candle inside and watching them squirm

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For the whump ask game: scissors!

I cut Whumpee's hair to the point they have a bad haircut. I show them their new haircut as they cry. Then I stab them with the scissors, in the stomach, arms, legs... 😈

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Whumpee and Caretaker got into a bad argument, to the point that Whumpee stormed out.

Later, they decided to walk back home, now calmed down, when they were snatched by Whumper right in front of their house. Whumpee screamed for Caretaker's help, crying as they're being shoved in the back of Whumper's car.

Caretaker, hearing the commotion, rushes out almost too late: they saw Whumper taking away Whumpee right in front of them, unable to do anything to save them.

The last thing they saw was Whumpee's teary eyes--the same look that Whumpee had when Caretaker screamed at them a few hours before.

And the guilt hit as the car drove away.

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SENSORY WHUMP!!!

- Loud, unpredictable noises to keep whumpee awake and alert

- Strong smells. It doesn’t matter if it’s something that would typically be considered a nice smell. Under the right circumstances or amount of time, anything from the smell of a warm meal to a fancy perfume can invoke nausea.

- A nice bit of pavlov! Associating certain things, such as sounds or sensations, with certain behaviors.

- Just the feeling of a weapon pressed against skin. Not breaking it, not even causing any physical pain, just keeping someone in suspense.

- Sensory-enhancing drugs

- Keeping a whumpee bundled up even in hot weather. Yeah it’s 80 degrees but if you take off that winter coat you’re not getting anything when it hits 20.

- Beating up a blindfolded whumpee. They have no idea where they’re going to be hit next or when.

- Forcing a whumpee to touch an exposed innard or gut. Come face to face with your own mortality AND weird uncomfortable feeling.

- Headphones constantly blasting loud noises. (for work i sometimes have to take orders with headphones and god it is so so painful whenever someone just yells directly into my ears. i am projecting.)

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"Brace Yourself"

Said:

silently, by whumpee to themself, as whumper raises their hand to strike. Whumpee knew ahead of time that what they did would earn them a punishment for talking back, but they did it anyway. they can take the punishment, if it means no one else gets hurt.

mockingly and menacingly, by sadistic whumper to blindfolded, helpless, squirming whumpee.

warningly, by whumpee to whumper right before whumpee is about to be rescued. Whumpee recognizes the sound of caretaker's footsteps, whereas whumper has no idea what's in store for them once caretaker arrives.

quietly, by whumpee to caretaker, as caretaker slowly removes the bloody, self-applied bandages from whumpee's wounds. Whumpee knows just how bad the damage is, but they don't know how else to prepare caretaker for what they're about to see.

warmly, by caretaker to whumpee, just before they open the door that will lead them into the room where whumpee's team/family is assembled, knowing that at least one person in that room is going to attack-hug whumpee the moment they see them.

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Put your Tiny Whumpee in a glue trap.

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whump prompt 162

Tattooing a record of their time together on Whumpee's body.

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Whumpee chained to a treadmill overnight

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Can I have whip and infection for thw prompt list? If not, just whip is fine :)

For sure ;) (For this prompt list)

Whip/Infection

The whip comes down with a violent crack, a flash of fiery pain licking Leon's split flesh as he jerks against the chains holding his hands above his head and sucks in a ragged breath. He can barely see through the reflexive tears blurring him vision, lost in a haze until another snap of leather drags him back to momentary awareness with a strangled scream. The metal grating of the cargo ship digs painfully into his knees through the fabric of his tactical pants, stifling air doing little to soothe the inflamed, angry wounds opening on his back with every lash.

His muscles lock up when yet another comes down, the twentieth--thirtieth? He's lost count--strangled cry scraping through his trachea. Strands of damp hair hang limply in front of his eyes, teeth chattering despite the heat. He can't breathe right.

Leon hazes in and out of consciousness as blows continue to rain down, time warping in the wake of the all-encompassing burn. He comes back to himself just long enough to find two of the sailors untying his hands, the bearded man he recognizes vaguely as their leader stepping forwards to crouch in front of Leon's limp form.

"Let's hope you've learned your lesson, hm?" He sneers, nodding to the sailors. They hoist Leon to his feet by the arms, the pain of muscles flexing along his back enough to send Leon spiralling into darkness. He only returns to daylight when his body hits the floor of the cell they've been keeping him in, a tiny moan all he can manage as the agony races up and down his mangled back. He sobs.

"The hell did they do to you, rookie?" a gruff voice asks, and then there are large hands on Leon's shoulders, holding him in place as he tries and fails to lift his head.

"Krauser," he slurs, and blacks out.

He drifts for a long time, eyelids flickering open every so often. Whatever he sees must not make sense, because he dips back under every time, sleep drawing him into its soothing embrace. All the while, the flames grow in intensity, burning down through his damaged back and into the rest of his body. The next time he manages to pry his eyelids apart, his very bones have been turned to embers, whimpering at the sheer agony that seems to pulse through every fibre.

"Hang in there," Krauser says from above, broad figure barely visible when Leon turns his head weakly to the side. His lips are dry, throat parched when he tries to speak. There's something damp on the back of his neck, a spot of coolness that does little to put out the fire. He shivers.

"Wha--" Leon swallows, panting for breath. "What--"

"Take it easy. They did a damn number on you." A cool hand comes down on Leon's forehead, the relief of it prompting a groan. "You've got yourself a hell of an infection, too."

"Feel like a pirate," Leon mumbles with a strained laugh. "Didn't know they still whipped people like--"

"Shut up, Kennedy. The last thing I need is to hear your jokes."

There's something musty and stiff beneath Leon's cheek, the sight of a dingy, water-stained mattress swimming into focus as he groans tightly and clenches his fingers against it.

"Hurts," he moans, panic and nausea fluttering in his chest. The fire has grown excruciating, every broken nerve in his back screaming out from the abuse it's suffered. "Krauser--"

"Breathe." The cool cloth dabs at his bare shoulders, swiping over his cheek a second later. Leon leans into it as much as he can, a brief flash of comfort to the fever charring his insides. He tries to do as Krauser says, but the agony is too much to bear.

With a whine, he lets it swallow him up, slipping into a fitful sleep that does nothing to stop the pain from following.

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Whumpee slips a note into a stranger’s palm, hoping they’ll understand the cry for help hastily scribbled on the scrap of paper.

But the stranger only smirks and hands the note to Whumper. “You should watch them a little closer.”