Blog About Whump

Medic who catches the same disease their patients have, and knows its progression intimately, and is determined to continue caring for their patients as long as they possibly can.

In a similar vein, a spy or assassin who knows they've been poisoned (with a poison they've used before...?) but must complete the mission and get to safety without arousing suspicion.

SELF SURGERY this is the self surgery trope this is THEEE self surgery trope my friends. <3.

Adrenaline high, temporary pain relief, superpower that holds off injury... and Whumpee pushing themself as far as they possibly can, because they know once it wears off, they're not getting back up again. (may or may not be inspired by @tired-of-being-nice's Coren...)

And the core appeal, for me, is Whumpee planning for their deteriorating condition.

It's the acceptance! The inevitability! And the determination to keep going anyway - in the face of inevitability, still giving it their best shot.

Whumpee pushing themself harder once they realise they're ill, stacking the most demanding tasks back-to-back to get them out of the way while they still can.

Planning for specific symptoms, not just severity: "in a few hours my vision will go blurry, so I need to get all the paperwork done before then."

Last-minute instructing an ally - if they are lucky enough to have one - how to continue their mission, treat their patients, etc, and the ally's growing panic: "Just tell me how I can help you!" "Don't- [cough] - worry about me. Listen."

Pre-emptively putting water and meds in reach because they won't be getting up again; they'll be lucky to move at all. (This was definitely inspired by @chiswhumpcorner's Kev.)

#137

content: burns, implied captivity, conditioning, punishment

"Let go!" Whumpee screamed, but Whumper was stronger than them. "Let go! Let me go you fucking maniac!"

"I'll teach you good manners," Whumper hissed, taking them to the fireplace. "This is what happens when you disobey me." They yanked on Whumpee's arm, making them kneel.

Then they put Whumpee's hand in the still flickering embers.

Whumpee howled in pain, and it was the first sound they made that actually set Whumper's soul aflame — no pun intended. Finally, it wasn't disobedience. Finally, it wasn't taunting and mockery. Finally—

Whumper suddenly gasped in pain and pulled their own hand out, realising they'd burned themself in their rage. Whumpee also yanked their hand right out, cradling it to their chest, crying.

"You're insane!" Whumpee sobbed.

Obviously whumpers that say "you belong to me" or "you're mine now" are fun, whumpee being just an object or toy or pet or what have you, something to not feel sympathy for.

But also whumpers- post rescue- running into caretaker or catching whumpee again. A "how was your other owner" to whumpee, reminding them of their place even with someone safe like caretaker.

Or even to caretaker, after catching whumpee again, saying "you should really take better care of your things" or "keep your dog on a shorter leash", effectively weirding caretaker out and recontextualizing everything whumpee does. Did whumpee think they belonged to caretaker?! How is caretaker meant to dismantle that idea?!

That image repulsed me. You know I've never been one for fishing. Even catch and release puts me off. I don't like to watch the poor thing slowly suffocating as it waits to be thrown back in, its gills heaving and sputtering for water.

That creature tied up on the pier, the gash of gills on its neck was heaving and sputtering just in that way, dark ocean water flowing out with every failed breath, it really made me sick.

I pulled out my pocket dagger and its attention was on me. Its eyes bulged wide and I wondered if, like a fish, it couldn't blink. The sight of my dagger set it off into another thrashing fit and I tried to calm it down. Poor thing didn't seem to understand a word. It kept opening and closing its faded lips, but nothing came out. Must've spoke some kinda fish language.

I held it firmly in place and slowly brought the dagger to the knots binding its wrists. It calmed down after seeing that I wasn't here to cut its flesh. Or maybe it had just lost all energy from being out of the water too long. Either way, it stayed still as I cut the ropes around its legs.

When it was freed, it just lay there on the pier. So still it might've been dead, other than the weak flapping of the gill at its throat. I needed to get it into the water, and fast.

I lifted it up, one arm under its neck, the other under its knees. Its skin was slightly warm, unlike any fish I'd ever briefly held. But the same clamminess. Warmer than its skin was the water spurting from its gills.

I stepped closer to the edge of the pier and the thrashing returned. It must've known it was going back home, and was getting excited. I took a step back to gather momentum, and pushed forward with all my might, throwing the creature in kicking and flailing.

It hit the water with a splash, and stayed at the surface for a moment. Almost like it was treading water. Must've wanted to say thanks. After a few seconds it slowly sunk down. Back to its home.

I imagined the slit in its neck filling up with ocean water and I could finally breathe easy again. I couldn't get that sick taste out of my mouth for awhile, though. Same sick taste of my first fishing trip.

"Who cut its neck?" I remember asking my mama as the fish struggled in my hand, tail thrashing, scales cold. She told me those were its gills, that's how it breathed. Through the slits in its throat.

"So it's breathing through its neck?"

"No, sweetie. Not now."

Choking

(i just saw a post about this and wanted to make my own list)

Content: choking, ptsd

Victim that's been choked many times, eyelids fluttering closed as they try to conserve energy

First time, eyes fly open, panicking, trying to gag and can't even get that out

Afterward because of the compression of the trachea, victim ende up coughing and possibly spitting

Those panicky, gravelly breaths right after

The betrayed look sideways at aggressor as victim holds throat and tries to get their breath

Sometimes your body doesn't decide to get faint until after the breath is restored. Victim gasping, hand against the wall for support after aggressir lets go.

Rubbing their throat quietly

Chin down, pulling back reflexively whenever aggressor gets angry after that

If someone touches their throat, they react extremely physically, such as bringing their chin to their chest or shoving the person away.

Shoulders up to their ears. All the time

Post-strangulation headaches, even migraines. Can become chronic

Memory loss, amnesia

Developing a stutter when they didn't stutter before (Usually brain damage from lack of oxygen)

Hating turtlenecks or chokers

Recurring chest pain, especially near the lungs

Cutting food into tiny pieces to avoid the feeling of it in their throat

There's probably a lot more I could add, but that's all I could think of

Even from their position on the floor, Whumpee can identify the newcomer is wearing the same uniform colors as their torturer. Different clothes, but…the same colors, Whumpee was sure of it. They moaned quietly—were they changing shifts?

The voices were distant. They bounced around Whumpee’s head like an echo along cave walls.

“Whumper. What have you done?”

“I…was questioning the detainee, Commander.”

“Questioning?” The newcomer’s voice rose a little. Whumpee half registered them looking down at them. “They’re half dead!”

“Well, they wouldn’t answer my question—“

“They can’t answer any questions, not like that.” They dropped to one knee, ignoring Whumpee’s mumbles of protest as they shined a flashlight across both of their eyes.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill them, Whumper.”

“What does it matter? They’ll probably be executed, anyway—“

“This prisoner is under my authority, do you understand? It will cost all of us if they die, but especially me. Which means you will be the one paying for it. You won’t be questioning them again.”

A long, uncomfortable silence enveloped the cell as the commander pulled Whumpee up to sit against the wall. Whumpee was silent and pliant, their entire body still aching from earlier.

“What did you do to them?”

“Standard procedures…blunt force, electric shocks—“

“Back to back, clearly. And why is there blood on the wall?”

“I…may have thrown them against it.”

“Whumper, you’re dismissed.”

Whumper left without another word, feeling a burning sensation from their commander’s harsh tone.

Whumpee closed their eyes, finally losing themselves to exhaustion as Commander sighed and spoke into their radio.

“Prisoner was injured during questioning. May be a concussion—“ They tapped Whumpee’s jaw. “Hey, stay awake. Stay awake.”

“May be a concussion, prep a medical bed. I’m taking them in myself, Whumper is no longer authorized to deal with this one.”

The words were starting to blur and mush together, Whumpee couldn’t make sense of them anymore. They weakly attempted to squirm, shifting away from the high ranking official looming over them.

“Stop moving.” Their voice wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t quite harsh either. Whumpee found themselves obeying, despite their fear and the increasing haze in their mind.

“I’m not hurting you. Do you understand me?”

Whumpee managed a weak nod.

“Good. You will be questioned again, but not now. Now, you’re receiving medical attention. I’m telling you not to fight us, it will not help you whatsoever. Do you understand?”

Another smaller nod.

maybe:

a) they made a vow to each other long ago —the organization, the cause comes first. no matter what happens, no matter the pain, they wont talk.

b) one of them has been left in the dark —to protect them, to keep them safe— they genuinely don’t know anything, their captor demands intel they simply don’t have, they swear they don’t know anything over and over again but the captor doesn’t care.

c) they talk. they give up names, codes, locations, anything to make it stop. but their captor keeps hurting their partner anyway. eventually, all they can do is beg. please. stop. just stop. let them go. keep me, take me instead.

With Whumper leaning against the wall, arms crossed, shaking his head, watching how his useless men get annihilated. He pushes off from the wall, literally steps over the carnage. Whumpee meets him head-on as just another pawn to put in the ground. But the fight is over in seconds.

If it's their first meeting, Whumpee is in shock that they didn't just lose, they lost bad.

And so the second time, after wiping the floor with some side characters, Whumper steps onto the scene and Whumpee just blanches :) Falls back a step :) The beating from last time carved into their bones :) Leading to so much delicious angst.

Hello i'm a normal person here's some stuff i drew to illustrate different traits different "person getting controlled" tropes can have

edit: obligatory possession shorthand code link because people seem to be using this like the possession code but just. without the code part

Love those tropes! these are non-linear, not a specific story just some ideas that inspired...

[delayed oops!]

Living weapon left for dead, taken prisoner by the enemy

Like, maybe they find them and they're like "this is the one that's been killing our guys!!"

Maybe they're crying or screaming in pain and the enemy soldiers just gather around watching them, prodding them with their boots, kicking them. "Serves them right."

Dragging them back to base at their officer's command so whumpee can be questioned. "I hope they torture you, you cold-hearted bastard."

Or, "look at these wounds... These aren't battle wounds... This isn't something our people would do, man..." "We can't just leave them here..."

"hey." Snaps fingers. "You alive? Yeah? You wanna stay that way? Get up."

Whumpee maintaining a grim silence at the interrogation table as the enemy captain starts slapping their head, standing up, yelling, trying to intimidate them.

"I can't tell you. I wish I could, but--" "why not?" "What whumper will do to me... You couldn't come close."

Mid-interrogation manhandling for intimidation, whumpee's shirt comes up over their back, revealing bruises and long, red welts. With a shocked silence, the interrogator shoves them away, staring at whumpee.

"what did they do to you?"

Whumpee blindsided by mercy, from the enemy. Trying not to cry as one of the soldiers sits down by their bed to talk, pushing a packet of pain meds and a glass of water across the table to them.

a defiant whumpee so drugged out of their mind that they'll let carewhumper care for them. whumpee usually kicks and bites and claws when Carewhumper came near them, but now they're laying peacefully in their lap. Carewhumper strokes whumpee's hair as they're too drugged to understand what is happening, all they know is that carewhumper touching their hair feels nice.

Whumpee's sensations are numbed and they can barely move, making it so much easier for carewhumper to tend to their injuries