Whump Drabble - Blog Posts

Uhhh heres a weird little drabble for the first one fjjdjsje

—

It was the first time I'd ever seen him sit still.

Always in a rush, he is. A constant blur of arms and legs. A flurry of movement.

He wouldn't stop jabbering in the car.

It's like he said every word that went through his brain.

I couldn't get a word in, not that I tried.

And the waiting.

Either his leg was bouncing at 1000 miles per hour or he was pacing back and forth as if he was being persued. Every so often he'd get up to go pester the nurse again before sulking back to his seat when there was no new information.

When we were finally called, he practically leaped out of the chair. He interrogated the nurse on the way to the room, walking at a pace that was clearly hard for her to keep up with. Impossibly long strides and darting eyes, he was.

And that's when we arrived at the room.

And that's when he saw you.

And he froze.

Then, gingerly, he made his way over to your bed, sitting softly in the seat adjacent.

He hadn't taken his eyes off you, I'm not entirely sure he'd even blinked since seeing you.

He hesitantly reached a hand out but halted an inch away, as if you might crumble at the slightest touch.

He looked to me, stuttering out "Can,,, Can I,,,??"

Just as soon as I had nodded, he had carefully taken your hand, pulling it a little closer to himself.

And honestly, I couldn't blame him for his caution.

There, laying dead to the world on that hospital bed, you seemed so small. So fragile. So helpless.

The nurses had done a good job of cleaning you up but the dark bruises on your skin were impossible to ignore. The stark white bandages seemed as if they might be the only thing holding you together. The careful stitches didn’t do much to hide the bright red lines.

The inherent feeling of just how wrong this felt, seeing you injured and unconscious when you should be happy and healthy. How you should be at home right now, playing some kind of game with the others when instead you were here in this hospital.

And so he sat still.

—

First time I’ve ever posted something like this on here lmao hope it was alright

I’m such a sucker for the Chaotic character going all soft for their injured friend and also the Coolheaded Wise character going batshit crazy for their injured chaos friend.

That’s some good shit.

Character A enters the dark living room to suppressed whimpers and hitched breaths.

“Character B?? You okay??” They ask, barely able to make out Bs hunched form on the couch.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” B hisses through grit teeth.

Character A furrows their brow before fumbling around for the light switch, flipping it on as they find it.

The first thing they see is Character B slumped on the couch, face a sickly pale shade.

The second thing they see is the wad of paper towels Bs got clutched against their stomach, soaking up an alarming amount of blood.

Strong characters who don't show any fear. Even when captured. Even when they're on their knees, with their hands tied behind their back, when a fist or boot or weapon is about to connect with their face. They don't glance up in fear, they don't flinch, don't attempt to make a miserable attempt to fight back or run. They don't beg or plea. They simply take it.

They're not resigned. They're just biding their time. And waiting.

Whump ABC #23 - Whipped

Based on the results of this poll.

_

Whumpee's hands shake from pain and exhaustion and henchman rips their shirt apart, revealing their back. Exposed to whumper, whumpee closes their eyes when they hear them walk closer.

Warm hands touch their cold skin, leaving goosebumps on their way. They hear whumper scoff, who bows down so their mouth is right next to whumpee's ear.

"Your old scars will be nothing against what is about to follow," they coo and walk back again, whumpee bracing themself for the pain that comes with the crack of the whip.

The burning sensation makes them grunt, but it's not enough to make them scream. Again and again, the thundering crack rings in whumpee's ears, hot blood running down their back now.

Whumpee's body shakes from pain, their mind racing, wanting it to stop. Barely holding onto consciousness, whumpee coughs and closes their eyes. The whip licks at their skin another time.

Draw badly. Write nonsensically. Embroider messily. Burn what you bake and cook. Get paint everywhere. Read half a book. Lose your mind for a bit. Plant things. Have faith in the process. Abandon 70 wood-carving projects. Get a kit and do some of it and never return to it. Get comfortable with sucking and losing motivation. Continue to create with reckless abandon.

a rather specific prompt for you :)

whumpee is/ was trained and used a a guard dog. during their time with their master they sustained an injury that causes them to not be able to fulfill their job properly anymore. still wounded, they get thrown out, chained in some allay. whumpee expects to die alone and cold, when caretaker comes along and accidentally stumbles across the abandoned whumpee. they (caretaker) think whumpee is just a regular pet and don’t realize they have a still dangerous guard dog at their feet and decide to rescue them and help them recover. whumpee has never experienced anything like this kindness, especially after becoming so useless, so (after having lost their old master) they immediately bond to caretaker as their new master, and would do anything to protect and please them

tw pet whump, amputation, abandonment, past trauma, broken bones, medical setting, caretaker new master, murder, gore, dehumanisation

"Oh, dear..." Caretaker crouched down by the shivering figure, putting the back of their hand against their forehead. They looked... half-dead, honestly, so the feverish warmth eminating from them was almost a relief. "Who did this to you...?"

The poor thing whined, and they reminded Caretaker of a wounded dog; but maybe that was just from how they were chained up. This was all so horrible.

"Okay, don't be scared. I'm gonna get you out of the alley and to a vet, alright? We'll get you all fixed up."

Another whine, and Caretaker suddenly realised there were other issues apart from the visible sickness. The pet's ankle... it was twisted in a way they'd never seen before. It was swollen, a mix of deep red and purple, bent in a way no healthy foot was supposed to.

"Oh... Oh, this is way worse than I thought, isn't it?" They immediately regretted the comment when the thing looked up at them with those wide, fearful eyes, probably expecting them to just give up now and leave them. "That's okay!" they added hastily. "It's okay. Nothing that can't be fixed! I... I hope... I'll call someone for help."

-

So they'd been wrong. Some things were in fact beyond saving, and Whumpee's foot turned out to be one of them. Amputation, prosthetics... Whumpee was handling it badly.

"I know," Caretaker soothed. "I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it'll be better later on, I promise, the doctors know what they're doing."

Whumpee let out a soft whimper, a scared one, and Caretaker thought their heart was going to shatter even further. The pet hadn't uttered a single word yet, — maybe they couldn't? — but their face was expressive enough to make Caretaker tear up.

"I'll be here," they said gently. "Every step of the way, yeah? I'll be here for you. I'll help. We'll figure it out."

How? Caretaker didn't know. They weren't planning on adopting a pet, but... they couldn't just leave Whumpee alone after all this. They had an obligation, a responsibility.

If anything, Whumpee's awe-filled eyes just made them more determined.

-

"One foot in front of the other. Slowly. There you go."

Physical therapy was a lot, but Whumpee seemed dead set on achieving every goal weeks earlier than planned. The staff had said it would take four to eight weeks for Whumpee to be able to walk again... and many more before they fully got used to their artificial foot. They were out and about within two weeks, much to the dismay of said staff.

"They'll hurt themself," they'd said. "They should be resting."

"They're very eager to come home, I guess," Caretaker had replied awkwardly, but Whumpee had nodded along, completely serious.

So now they were walking along the corridors, Caretaker supporting Whumpee's weight less and less as they learned the ways and limits of their new life.

-

"I know it's not super fancy..." Caretaker opened the door and stood aside, motioning Whumpee inside. "But I guess it's... homey."

The pet surveyed their surroundings curiously, then turned back towards Caretaker with a bright smile. If they'd had a tail, Caretaker wagered they would've been wagging it.

It made them smile, too. "You like it?"

Whumpee nodded enthusiastically, walking over to the new pet bed Caretaker had bought just a week prior. They carefully set their belongings down next to it, — a shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of socks, and a collar — then made themself comfortable. Testing it out.

"I think we'll get along nicely," Caretaker commented absently. "I mean, I like you a lot. And you seem to like me. I don't see how this could go wrong."

-

Caretaker couldn't believe their eyes.

This couldn't be real.

Was that blood? Was that blood on Whumpee's clothes, and hands, and... face?

When the pet spotted them they immediately fell to their knees, whimpering in terror. They tried to wipe their hands on their victim's shirt, to no avail.

"Whumpee, what– what's– what's going on...?"

Whumpee was crying now, getting more and more desperate about ridding themself of the blood, as though that was the only evidence as to what they'd done. As though they could erase it all, if only they managed to erase the stains.

Caretaker walked closer, eyes wide with shock and horror. So much blood. So much gore.

Their sweet pet had done this?

"Why...?"

Whumpee scrambled to pick up some sort of equipment, struggling to hold it between bloody fingers. A lockpick, Caretaker noted distantly. They put it down on the floor in front of their feet, then quickly grabbed something else: a knife, this time. They put it next to the lockpick. Then they crawled back, flattening themself against the floor like a dog who knew it'd done something bad, whining as they waited for the verdict.

The stranger had been a burglar. Was it... self-defence? No, this had been a brutal murder.

"You're– you're a guard dog," Caretaker said softly, because they didn't think their voice could handle anything more. They got but a whimper in response. "This... Oh, dear. This is not... This is not good."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty

Brutal whump idea:

A large ring pierced through Whumpee’s mouth, below their tongue and straight through their jaw. A chain hooked to that, and used to drag them around like on a leash, tugging whenever they’re moving too slow.

Not only the pain, but it works as a permanent gag. Maybe it goes through their tongue as well. They can’t speak right. They can’t eat. Any sound comes out as a pathetic whine. They can’t close their mouth, maybe their hands are bound behind them so they can do nothing about the blood and saliva dripping down their chin.

The only thing that matters is that they certainly won’t be mouthing off to Whumper again.

It was an exhausting, rainy day. Caretaker shook their soaked coat off their shoulders before eagerly drawing a hot bath. They passed by whumpee’s door and stopped, hearing quiet sobbing coming from the other end. Their heart sank as they quickly knocked. 

“Whumpee? Are you alright?” They asked. 

The crying silenced, but so did the voice. Caretaker didn’t wait and pushed open their door-

There they sat on the floor at the end of their bed. Tears drained from their eyes, they gave them a silent-wounded look, seeing them seemed to only overwhelm them more as they curled their arms around themselves and sniffed.

“Sweetheart… What’s wrong?” Caretaker asked, sinking on their knees next to them.

…

“…I feel so small”

@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  

🤤🤤🤤🤤

【腐】団長と兵長 by 炭谷 || please do not remove source

Injury Prompt #1004

Held by the neck