Hope Rivers Whump

The main premise of this world is that the dangerous, difficult, and undesirable jobs in a futuristic city-state called Sanctum aren't done by regular people anymore. Instead, they're done by Gene-humans, subspecies of humans created specifically to do those jobs. They are made from doner DNA, as well as genetics from various animals to give them physical traits to assist in their work. Gene-Workers do necessary domestic and industrial labor, while Gene-Soldiers fight in the army. So far, most of my focus has been on Gene-Soldiers.

As of right now, I have four types of Gene-Soldiers. Brawlers, Fliers, Divers, and Hunters.

Brawlers are large, muscular cannon fodder. They are created to throw at the enemy until one army folds, usually not Sanctum's. Some of their genetics come from lions, oxen, and bears.

Fliers are winged Gene-Humans, designed for reconnaissance, communication, and speed. They tend to be small and slight, with large bird wings. Their additional DNA comes from birds and bats.

Divers are amphibious, and are created for water combat and espionage. With gills and webbed fingers and toes, they're very good at what they do. Their animal genetics are derived from fish, frogs, and salamanders.

Hunters are the most like a traditional living weapon. They are the specialists, the ones who do the things that are too dangerous for regular people and too complicated or delicate for any of the other Gene-Soldiers. With DNA from cats, wolves, and several other creatures, they are incredibly powerful.

All Gene-Soldiers are much stronger, faster, more agile, and more resilient than regular humans. They are trained from birth to fight and die for Sanctum, and they do it with pleasure. Each type has their own unique strengths and weaknesses, and their own role in Sanctum's army.

Ooh, that's an interesting thought. I never actually put those two together before.

My living weapons I'm working on now are literally born into it. They never know anything different, so they never have a reason to be defiant. Handlers control them through a variety of training, including punishments and rewards.

However, now I'm thinking about a living weapon that got away. They've been living a quiet life somewhere the army isn't likely to find them. Until another living weapon, someone they used to fight alongside, runs into them on accident.

This other weapon doesn't think anything of reporting Whumpee. In fact, they think they're doing the right thing for them. But now that Whumpee knows what life can be like outside of what they were raised in, they refuse to go back. The handlers aren't about to let them go so easily, so they try and retrain them.

Still determined to be free again, Whumpee kees fighting back. Nothing and no one will make them break. So the handlers pull out their secret weapon. Some sort of technology that can control Whumpee.

Now whumpee has a choice. Do they keep resisting and lose their autonomy altogether, or give in and lose the happiness they used to have?

In a world where living weapons are commonplace, and there's a lot of them, they'd likely have their own culture. Because I'm a worldbuilding nerd as much as I'm a whump writer, I started thinking about what that could look like.

Here are my thoughts:

Obviously, loyalty and strength would be highly prized, particularly loyalty to the organization and to the handler.

If the living weapons work in teams or units, they would probably put a lot of emphasis on unity and working together.

Whereas a world where living weapons work alone would likely have a more competitive living weapon culture.

Weapons might view pain as something good, something purifying.

Maybe conformity is a virtue, being exactly like your neighbor means that you can all do the same job perfectly.

Failure hits harder in a culture that values perfection. Maybe the handlers use that to motivate their weapons. "You fail this mission, you fail your people."

Honestly, the idea of handlers and trainers using the virtues and vices of living weapon culture to influence their weapons is whumpily wonderful overall.

Imagine the whumpee's team coming to rescue them, only to find Whumpee alone in a room, unrestrained, but holding a knife to their own throat or a gun to their own head. Are they pleading for the team to run, even as their body is puppeted by their captor? Are they crying? Or are they completely blank and mindless, totally under Whumper's control.

Or a battlefield situation. The team is outnumbered, badly, but they're gaining the upper hand. It's starting to look like they might win when someone shouts, and there Whumpee is, threatening their own life. Maybe the Whumper's nearby, visibly using their magic, knowing that they can kill Whumpee before any of the team can attack them. Or maybe they're nowhere to be found, hidden among dozens of enemies. There's no way for the team to try and take the spell out at it's source.

And the aftermath! Does Whumpee remember it? Or is it all blank? One minute they were fighting, the next they're in a cell. Does the team tell them what happened, or lie to perserve Whumpee's dignity? And if they know, how do they feel? Are they humiliated and ashamed? Angry? Do they rationalize that it could have been any of their team, and they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or do they blame themselves?

Gah, it's just such an interesting concept! I keep rotating it in my brain like a rotisserie chicken.

Whumper captures a whole team, looking for information on the larger organization they're a part of. After a few sessions of questioning and torturing the whole team, Whumper makes a deal with the team's defiant loudmouth. Whumper won't hurt the rest of the team, as long as Loudmouth can stay awake.

Just the idea of someone essentially torturing themself with sleep deprivation to protect their team is delicious to me. Especially if they're kind of an asshole to everyone, including their teammates. How long until the rest of the team is begging them to just sleep, no matter what the consequences are?

And of course, no one can stay awake forever. Imagine the guilt when they finally drift off, and wake up to Whumper gloating, and taking one of their teammates away for interrogation. Bonus points if it's that one person that Loudmouth has always respected and been slightly less assholeish towards.

They're just minding their own business when something happens. Maybe not even a big thing. They run into an animal they don't know. Or the paramedics show up at their job. And it sets them off.

A group of mild paranormal enthusiasts are poking around some abandoned places when they come across an entity that feeds on their pain, suffering, and fear; and imprisons them in a pocket dimension to harvest it.

Whumpee who hates being touched.

It's not a trauma response, they've never liked it. Maybe it's a sensory issue, maybe they just don't like it. Either way, they've hated physical contact as far back as they can remember.

There's a handful of ways I can see this going.

Whumpee ends up with a Whumper who enjoys doing things like resting a hand on their shoulder, or touching their hair, or other harmless physical contact. Or, it would be harmless for most people. If Whumpee tries to pull away, they are mocked and/or punished.

Related, a Whumpee who feels like they have to tolerate people touching them no matter what. I particularly like this idea with a Caretaker who celebrates when Whumpee feels confident enough to ask someone not to touch them.

Whumpee ends up with a Caretaker who thinks it's trauma related and tries to "fix" it. No amount of insisting will convince them that Whumpee's always been like this.

Honestly, anything thay ends with Whumpee's boundaries being encouraged, even if their weird, I like the idea of.

Introducing two pirate OCs: Nerissa and Lukas. I'm still kind of learning about them, so they aren't the most solid characters right now.

First time trying to actually post for Whumptober. Wish me luck!

***

Nerissa glares down at the man in front of her. A pathetic excuse for a human, he started whimpering and pleading as soon as he heard the word "siren". Fool. He doesn't need to be scared because she's a siren.

He should be scared after what he did.

"Please, Pirate Queen," he stammers out. "I swear I didn't do nothin'! I ain't even been in piracy since Cap'n Enoch was killed!"

"Oh, shut up," she snaps. "I don't give a damn what you've done with your life. You're not here for piracy."

"I don't understand, uh, your Majestiness. If-- If this is about me as a pirate, what'd I do?"

Nerissa bares her teeth in a dark mockery of a grin. "Don't recognize me, Stanbury? I don't know if I should be hurt or pleased."

"What?"

"Odd. I didn't think humans could regrow fingers."

It takes a minute for the last whiff of the man's brain to put the pieces together. Nerissa can nearly watch it happen. Stanbury's eyes go wide as he figures it out.

"You!"

"Me," Nerissa agrees. "Lukas is here too, so you know."

"No. No, you're lyin'. The creature's offspring, maybe. But there's no way, after twenty years."

"Tch. I'm not bound by the constraints of time like you are. So after all these years, I get my revenge."

"Fuck! The little monster bit my finger off!"

Nerissa bares her teeth at the man. "Touch me again and I'll take your whole hand!"

Stanbury raises a hand, and Nerissa braces for a strike. Penn stops the other man.

"Don't bother," he says. "You know it won't care. Watch this."

With one hand, Penn grabs her hair, wrenching her face away from him. He grabs her bound hands in the other before dragging her out of the tank. She squirms and fights, but with her restraints, she's trapped in her ocean shape. Penn grins in sadistic glee as he hangs the ropes around Nerissa's wrists from the hook.

"There, ya see. If it pisses you off, just hang it up and let it squirm."

"What do you want from me?" Stanbury asks.

"Beg," Nerissa orders coldly. "Beg for my forgiveness and maybe I'll spare your pathetic life."

After a couple hours, Nerissa's whole body hurts. She's long dried out, and her wrists are likely damaged by now. Either Penn or Stanbury have been in her prison the whole time, meaning Lukas couldn't do anything for her.

"Please," she pleads shakily. "Please, I need water."

"Okay, then," Penn says. "Cabin boy, go get a cup of water for it, huh?"

Lukas shoots her a worried look before racing from the room. It takes mere minutes for him to return, cup in hand. When Penn and Stanbury don't immediately dismiss him, Lukas hovers in the corner. Having him there is a small comfort.

"You better beg for forgiveness if you want this," Penn says mildly. "And make it good."

Nerissa hangs her head. "P- please. Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Please. I'm sorry, please—"

"What do you think, Stan? Think it's earned it's water?"

"No." Stanbury pours the water out on the floor. "Beggin' won't bring my finger back, monster. And you!" He whirls around to Lukas. "You bring it water or let it down from there, and I'll cut it up and make you watch."

Nerissa hasn't even been listening to the man's pleas for his life. Honestly, killing him might just be doing him a favor. She holds up a hand to silence him.

"What do you think, my love?" She asks lightly. "Has he earned his life?"

Lukas steps up beside her perch. He's almost certainly remembering the same day as her.

"No," Lukas says coldly. "Begging won't undo everything we suffered."

"You heard the man. Kill him."

Med Balancing.

If someone has multiple health conditions, the side effects of the medications they take for one of them can make the others worse. For example, one med might calm the anxiety, but it might calm down the mind so much it makes depression worse. And then the person has to start a new med for depression.

Optional addition/follow-up: Caretaker has a similar power and Whumpee struggles with being triggered

I didn't expect anyone to actually give me prompts! Seeing this made my day. Thank you so much.

Anyways, this is a little thing I wrote for a zombie apocalypse setting I'm working on where some people have superpowers. Echo and the other three people she mentions are all major characters I write about in this world.

Quick Character Reference:

Echo- 24ish. Doesn't have a power.

Hawk- 24ish. Can enhance other powers.

Tsuki- 21. Superhuman intuition.

Storm- 23. Healing powers.

The only warning Echo gets is a glint of metal. Before she can react, a sharp piece of rebar drives through her forearm. The end of the bar bends downwards sharply. She hisses in both pain and irritation. A corner like that makes it hard to pull her arm off. Instead, she grabs the bar, ready to yank it out herself.

And her hand shatters.

Echo growls, glancing around. Whatever coward would attack her like this is going to pay.

"Look at that." A man steps around a piece of debris. "We caught the feral one."

"Come over here and I'll show you feral," Echo snarls back.

"Careful, Ray," a woman cautions. "This is one of the two who took down the Wreckers."

"And I'd do it again!"

Ray's hand twitches. One of Echo's ribs snaps. She fights back a grimace, determined not to show weakness.

"Yes, yes, you're very terrifying," Ray says dismissively. "We don't care about a powerless little mouse like you. We want the enhancer."

"The what?"

Enhancer sounds like a name Fish would slap on something Riptide built. But most of Riptide's inventions wouldn't interest people like this.

Snap! Another rib. Echo bites her tongue, swallowing a gasp.

"Don't play dumb," the woman says. "You know who we're talking about. Tell us how to find him."

There's only a few people Echo knows who could be called enhancers. Even fewer that she knows how to find. Only one person they would try to get to through her.

Hawk.

Echo bares her teeth. "Go fuck yourselves."

This time, she sees the hand twitch and braces herself for the third break. She grits her teeth, breathing carefully through her nose. The fourth rib forces her to bite her lip. No. These people will not get to see her pain. Cowards.

"What do you even want from him?" she demands.

"Isn't it obvious? With a power like that on our side, we'd be unstoppable."

"You know that enhancing cowardice and weakness just makes it worse, right?" Echo shoots back.

Ray clenches his fist, and three more ribs crack in quick succession.

The woman raises a hand, stopping him. "Just tell us how to get the enhancer, and we'll leave you be."

"Fuck off," Echo spits.

Two at a time, making Echo gasp. Fuck. This isn't going to end well for her, is it?

No. No, don't think like that. It's almost a guarantee that Tsuki will have realized that something's wrong, and she'll bring Storm with her, and there's no injury in the world Storm can't heal. As long as Echo can survive this, she'll be fine. She just has to survive.

Surviving might be easier said than done, she thinks as another pair of ribs snap.

"Just tell us," the woman insists.

Echo curls her lip. "There is nothing you can do to me that would ever get me to tell you shit. Especially not about one of my people."

Three cracks this time. Echo hisses in pain.

"Fuck you," she grits out.

The woman's head snaps up. "We're out of time. They're coming."

Ray curls his lip, drumming his fingers against each other. One after the other, the rest of Echo's ribs break. She bites down on her lip as her eyes water.

"We'll talk again," Ray promises.

Just like that, they're both gone. Echo lets herself groan in pain as she leans back against the wall behind her. Every breath hurts, and she's pretty sure she can feel some of her broken ribs grinding against each other. The pulsing pain in her right arm isn't helping either.

The others are on their way, and they'll definitely have Storm with them. At this point, she's pretty sure he just assumes that if no one can find her, she's probably gotten hurt or her someone else. Good assumption, actually.

A/N: Introducing Ari and Roan, my current two favorite OCs. They're immortal pirates. Ari is a nereid, Roan is a phoenix with a human form.

***

Ari sighs, setting her pen down on the desk. Another day, another set of letters. She twirls her wrist a few times in an attempt to work out the tension. 

“Captain, you gotta see this!” Aster shouts as she flings the door open.

Ari fixes her with a sharp look. “Aster, I’m busy here.”

“No, Ari, you have to come see,” Aster presses, eyes sparkling.

“Fine. I suppose it won’t hurt to get some sunlight.”

Ari steps onto the deck, blocking her eyes against the glare. The crew mills around the side of the deck.

“All right, all right, what’s going…” Ari trails off as her crew separates.

Roan smiles softly at her from the railing edge. Ari runs over, flinging her arms around him. For a moment, the outside world doesn’t exist. It’s just Ari and Roan again.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” she whispers to him.

Roan hugs her tighter. “It’s been too long, altvalora.”

I’m also a fan of caretaker and whumpee who are enemies, but over the course of the plot eventually become more like bickering siblings. Complete with sibling protectiveness.