#whatwhump

I just found this on my computer and totally forgot I even wrote it lol. I think I was too embarrassed to post it, but I have started to get to know a lot more people in the Whump Community (and of course y’all are so lovely 😍). No whump in this just hero/villain angsty stuff (maybe even a bit fluff?) but if anyone is interested in a follow-up,  I’d like to do some flashbacks of the whumping which has already commenced. 

TW: mental health/illness discussions and hospitalization for these circumstances; nervous breakdown; references death/grieving; unhealthy relationship dynamic obvi; 

What to Know: Hero is put in the hospital following a nervous breakdown. Hero expected to see the counselor/social worker who interviewed them when they initially arrived about a day ago...but it looks like there are other plans! 

The meeting room of the hospital–where families are often taken to be informed of and grieve their lost loved one—is a sickening off white. It’s overall appearance is bland, as if someone tried to make it something but got a budget cut halfway through. Yellowing curtains partially conceal a small window; a faded, second-hand painting of a rose in a grubby yellow frame hangs somewhat crookedly next to it. A simple, bronze cross hangs on the adjacent wall, casting an odd, almost foreboding aura in combination with the buzzing fluorescent lights.

In the center of the room, a faux-wood table stands, along with two chairs reminiscent of an 80s cafeteria, across from each other. A transparent orange pill bottle filled to the brim with large, chalky pills sits precisely in the center of the table between Hero and Villain, each of whom sit beneath the weight of a sticky silence. Villain refills two styrofoam coffee cups with water from a small pitcher and the two stare at each other, cautiously, whilst taking a sip–Villain like a snake watching its prey, and Hero like a Chihuahua pretending to be a pitbull. 

Tension is visible in the Hero’s shoulders as their adrenalized state translates via flickering eyes, taking in every inch of the prospective threat before them. The lack of their usual unruffled, confident demeanor has shaken them to their core, making them feel like a foreigner on their own body. So, they do their best to maintain composure in order to save face despite their mounting angst. 

Villain, on the other hand, sits with their legs crossed almost delicately, sipping politely from the cup in one hand whilst the other drapes lazily over the back of their chair. They study the Hero with their stunningly cunning and calculating abilities, taking in the panic that becomes increasingly obvious on the Hero’s face as they sit in that awful silence. Their eyes drift down to the Hero’s hand when they reach for their cup and awkwardly bring it to their lips. . .Villain recognizes a bruise just barely breaking into the stage of yellowing around its edges. Their eyes dart back up to meet the Hero, still scanning the Villain’s seemingly indecipherable features. 

There is a gentle knock at the door. “Is everything okay in there, sir/ma'am? Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you, Bruce,” the villain responds coolly. Hero’s cheeks redden; their aggression the day before has made them a flight risk, which to them is as basically a basket case. Villain just resumes sipping their water calmly, as if watching birds eat bread crumbs at the park. Hero tightens their fist until their knuckles turn white; they just can’t take the suffocating silence any longer. 

“Why are you doing this?” they blurt out.

 The villain smiles amusedly. “You know, Hero, the secret used by therapists and interrogators always getting their clients to do the talking, is that they play what I call ‘the quiet game’. If I don’t speak, 9 times out of 10 the client will. A reliable ‘ol classic, that one. Kills two birds with one stone.” 

“What did you do with my actual therapist?” the Hero demands guardedly. 

Villain purses their lips and shakes their head at the Hero, mock-chastising them. 

“I didn’t KILL them or anything, Jeez. Have a little faith in me, huh?” Hero tenses as a nervous breath catches in their throat and exhales shakily. Villains glances up attentively from their cup as they take in the Hero’s distrust. They’re cognizant of how the discomfort Hero is stewing in could be disastrous if they don’t establish at least a little bit of trust, and soon. They reach into their pocket and after a few moments of digging retrieve a laminated card. Villain tosses it on the table in front of the Hero, who flinches.  

Almost timidly they inch forward to read the small, typed print and examine the photograph. 

“VILLAIN - LMFT (Licensed Marriage Family Therapist) - #9466 - 10/04/17 — expires 10/04/22”

Hero’s mouth gapes in utter incredulity. The photo is definitely Villain. A bit younger, the laugh lines they now sport are less visible and perhaps they’re a bit thinner in the face, but otherwise...they look virtually the same. 

Villain takes back their ID card and stuffs it into their wallet. Their expression is solemn; to the Hero this translates as anger. On the contrary, Villain feels sympathetic for Hero and their nerves that are shot to hell. I mean, just look at them: purplish circles under their eyes, mussed up hair, donning a sweatsuit from the hospital with a gross stain down the front that Gods only know what it is...Villain plays mind games often, yes, but the Hero has been through more than they can handle in the last week let alone all of the other traumas they’ve experienced in their life before they met Villain. They feel  a pang of guilt in their gut at the thought of what their enemy has endured and the stress Villain’s antics likely put on them. They had no way of knowing what else was going on but even still, they feel somewhat responsible for pushing the envelope. 

Villain uncrosses their legs and folds their hands on the table gently. Their expression is much softer, and Hero wonders if they’re just imagining it. 

“I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to. I swear I won’t use anything you say to me outside of this room when our paths cross. I love my mind games, true, but I would never, EVER, take a client’s trust and jeopardize it.” Hero sits back in their chair with their brows furrowed, but their shoulders relax a bit. Villain sounds...genuine. The look in their eyes is unmistakably earnest. Hero can’t decide whether they love or hate this version of Villain.

“If you want to sit here in silence every day for an hour and a half, I’ll do it. If you want me to tell you things about myself, I will. With honesty. I know you may not believe me but...I apologize for any awkwardness or leeriness our...prior relationship may incur at these sessions. I completely understand your frustration; it’s absolutely warranted.. I tried to arrange another counselor for you, but my boss was adamant that all of the other counselors had their plates full and that based upon your file...we’d be an excellent fit.” The Villain chuckles softly at this, but rather than in a rude way, it comes off tender. Villain looks into Hero’s wide eyes, the hazel highlights in their brown iris’ glinting under the dull lighting and somehow emphasizing just how young they still are. 

“Although you may not believe it possible, I am...here for you. I take my job seriously–both of my jobs–but a conflict of interest is never what I intended. You have the reins, Hero; steer the session as you like and I will abide.” The Hero’s brain feels it’s  on the verge of shattering, like they’re in an episode of the Twilight Zone, just barely comprehending Villain’s words or the sincerity perceptible in them through the years of distrust. 

Villain sighs. Hero knows that sigh: they’re thinking-deeply. 

“I was given your file and have explored it thoroughly–as I do for all of my clients.” Hero’s jaw tightens at the thought of Villain having access to all of their personal info and traumatic experiences.. 

“If it’s any consolation, I would like to share that I grew up in...similar circumstances. I, too, became a self-sufficient old soul because of it. But I, too, am forever scarred by the doubt of my worth that those experiences have incurred on my psyche.” 

Hero tries to stare back blankly, though can’t help but be inundated by the overwhelming emotionality and shock of the situation.

“Uhm–uh...thank you. For telling me.”

“I’m not expecting you to just trust me off the bat, okay? Hero, look at me.” 

Hero forces themself to fix their eyes on Villain’s pale blue ones., the slightest hint of a tear shimmering in their eyes to their chagrin.

“You’re not alone anymore. That’s a promise. Are we...okay?” 

Hero sniffles and Villain averts their eyes slightly to give them privacy as they quickly swipe away a tear and pretend they’re swatting a gnat. 

“Yeah. Yeah–we’re okay.” Villain beams warmly at Hero, their eyes soft and face kind as if they’ve known Hero this intimately for years. 

“I tried to choke down some cafeteria food today but I’m afraid what I consumed was definitely not chicken.” A smile just barely tugs at the corners of Hero’s mouth. 

“As your shrink, I have the capability to get an afternoon out of this place approved. I’m sure a bit of fresh air could do us both some good. Does In N Out strike your fancy? Of course, if fish sticks downstairs is more your style that’s fine, too.”

Hero isn’t sure if they’re dreaming. But deep down, in the depths of their mind...they hope they’re not.

Ooh ooh for the preferential treatment one (love me some CHOSEN FAM GUILT!) Whumper & Whumpee have been BEST FRIENDS (*chef’s kiss*) since childhood. While Whumpee is seen as a bad seed by all, Whumper is the proverbial golden child. It’s an unlikely pair but they balance each other out, & Whumper has the empathy/patience to accept Whumpee despite their rough edges.

Although Whumper seems to have it all, they become increasingly jealous over the fact Whumpee receives pity/is let off the hook a lot because of their tragic past. After years of bubbling under the surface this finally gets to Whumpee 😈—the jealously all but consumes them. They start spreading vicious rumors about Whumper, making up LIES & going to great lengths to share things they did in the past & truly are repentant for (but only after twisting it up & injecting a few lies...)

Cut to Whumpee finding out their closest friend has betrayed them. When they confront Whumper, they are ENRAGED—esp when Whumpee suggests they’re righteous & even worse than they are are! A brawl ensues (Whumper wins by a landslide obvi) & Whumpee is kicked out—a black eye, bloody lip, & staggering with dizziness. But then—uh oh. People have fallen for the rumors totally. On their way home, Whumpee is jumped & beat down baddddd. 😩

A couple days goes by & Whumper gets “The Call”. The nurse over the phone explains their buddy was severely injured & left in an alley way (likely cuz of the alleged things they did), but no one stopped to help cuz of the rumors THEY STARTED! And *sniff* Whumpee doesn’t have anyone else, so Whumper is their only emergency contact! Cue LOTS of bedside guilt & shocked tears when Whumper arrives & realizes just how far they really went (too far—yikes)...

[When Whumpee awakens to find a distraught Whumper at their bedside]

TW: Emotional/psychological abuse discussed 

I want to start off by saying I have loved whump since I was a kid, but only started seeking it out on Tumblr last year and I’m so glad I did. This community is so talented, friendly, and accepting, and every night before bed I look forward to reading everybody’s incredible fluff/angst/hurt/comfort! 

I know that I am basically just sending this out into the void of the interwebs,  but I want to get this off my chest so here goes: 

I am fascinated–like many of you–with our draw to whump. I have heard numerable theories, all of which I believe are valid; there is no single reason we love whump.  Many of you have shared how whump is an outlet for mental health issues, difficult emotional times/life transitions, or sometimes just because fiction is a fun, safe place to explore the depths of our imaginations. It doesn’t mean we’re sadists. It doesn’t mean you subconsciously want to harm others (some of you have also said it is an outlet in which you release your own self-esteem issues–I myself do this as I am always the whumpee in my imagination which I find strangely cathartic).  BUT, I DO think all whump is rooted in emotional release...

I have been suspicious that I am a long time recipient of emotional/psychological abuse for a little less than a year now. Every time I think it, though, I push it our of my mind or feel guilty for “feeling bad for myself.” I was reading a fic (so sorry! I can’t find it! to tag) the other day that was TW’d for emotional abuse by a parent. It was about said abusive parent berating her foster child, but then hugging him at the end that classic narcissistic-abuser style. And I was shocked–I have had almost an identical interaction with a parent. I’ve had that interaction virtually every fucking day for a long time now...jesus christ I still have trouble comprehending that rn. 

And I’m at a point where this treatment has in fact grown more difficult to cope with the longer it goes, as researchers and mental health experts claim it does. I finally have started to come to terms with it. This week has been really fucking hard and depressing...but it has opened my eyes to how whump has actually helped me face this. 

Whump has always been there to comfort me. Hurt/comfort fics make me feel like I am care for even though it’s fake. I still remember the first time I started imagining hurt/comfort scenarios/sicfics in my head to fall asleep–I must have been 9 or 10–and it was because I had a sicfic dream. And since then, I take refuge in the compassionate characters of my imagination. 

Welp, this turned into a novel and I did not intentd that to happen but I just wanted to express my gratitude for the whump community, the author (whoever you are!) who wrote an accurate fic that encouraged me to face the truth of my situation, and the fact that I am not the only one who needs this stuff. Heck, even if you don’t, it’s entertainment from extremely talented individuals so I say the more the merrier! 

I’m going to see my new therapist on Wednesday...and I think I’m going to bring up the abuse thing. I keep second guessing myself that I am overreacting...haha but then I realize that is literally a symptom and is 100% my abuser talking. 

I wrote my first fic a while back, and I am on spring break at the moment so I will be posting a follow-up this week! 

Hi!! I’ve been a reblogger following the Whump community for a while but I finally decided to join in on the fun! I love to write and I really love following writers on Tumblr and reading their new work every week (especially when it’s OC’s in a longer story–I always look forward to new chapters). 

I am going to try my hand at this because I won’t know until I try...so please bare with me as I work on my writing skills! Please feel free to comment constructive criticism and let me know if you’d like to see the follow-up to this (likely lots o’ fluff and comfort my friends). 

(Note: I don’t do noncon and am not that into lengthy, miserable torture UNLESS I get fabulous fluff and comfort!) :D

Anyways I ADORE this trope! Combined a few of my favorite whumps for extra angst and regret later on! 

*TW: Language, blood, hospital, short cutting mention (self defense), alcohal/PTSD/past abuse mentions

Enjoy!

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