#wij2024

Now introducing the prompt list for Whumpmas in July 2024! 

Thank you for patiently waiting! As a reminder, we will not be reblogging any creations on this blog and will instead keep this blog as a space to only post the prompts, tags, and relevant information. We will post the tag for each day, and we ask that you use two tags when filling prompts this year so that others may find your creations easily:  Tag 1 —> #wij24day__ (Fill in the blank with the appropriate day number for the prompt you are filling! For example, if you are doing the prompt for day 21, make sure to tag your post with #wij24day21.)

Tag 2 —> #whumpmasinjuly2024 Be sure to also tag @whumpmasinjuly-archive if you would like your posts reblogged to our new official archive account! Of course, feel free to use any other relevant tags too! You can also find a banner that you can use in your posts (if you want, not required) under the #wijbanner tag.

The prompts are divided into three categories: community (red boxes), question (green boxes), and creation (white boxes). Everyone is free to participate as much or as little as they want–there’s no completionist requirement! This list provides a preview of the prompts, but on each day a more detailed post will be released with more context and additional suggestions for each day’s task. Similar to previous years, all prompts and other important information will be found under the #infowhumpmasinjuly tag and #infowij24 for ease of access. This blog will also use the tags #wijquestion , #wijcommunity , and #wijprompt respectively for each post so that you can filter and find the type of prompts you’d like to do. 

Below the cut is a text list of this year’s prompts:

Whumpmas in July: Day Three

"___ deserved it."

TW: Blood, knife, torture, victim blaming, burning

"You were bad," Whumper said, as they wiped the blood off their knife. "You disobeyed my rules. You understand that, don't you?"

Whumpee shivered from their place on the table. "I-I understand," they whispered, tears blurring their vision.

"Do you? Or are you just saying that to get me to stop?"

They choked on a sob. Of course they were saying it to get them to stop. They hadn't done anything wrong, they were only trying to get away, to escape this place of rules and punishment.

Whumper sighed. "Well, I suppose that's that question answered. What do you think we should try next? I've got a pyrography pen I've been meaning to break in..."

"No, no please-" they couldn't take any more, they couldn't, it had been hours since Whumper started carving into their skin, they couldn't do this-

"You deserve this, Whumpee. I'm not punishing you for no reason. You disobeyed, and now you deserve to be punished."

Whumpee nodded frantically, eyes following whumper as they walked to a shelf and grabbed a tool, a pen with a plug for an outlet. They bent down and plugged it in and oh god it wasn't done-

"Say it, Whumpee. Tell me what you deserve."

They sucked in a breath, and the air felt heavy in their lungs. "I-I deserv-ved it. I deserve t-to be punish-shed."

Whumper smiled, picking up the pen and positioning it just above Whumpee's thigh. Close enough that they could feel the heat radiating off it.

Whumpmas in July: Day Six

Left Behind

TW: Restraints, torture, blindfold, gag, abandoned

Whumpee flinched at the sound of the door opening, curling up and shrinking away as much as their cuffs allowed them to. It wasn't much.

They whimpered when something touched them, waiting for the pain to start again. But the hand... it was gentle.

Their blindfold was pulled away, and Whumpee squinted into the light to see-

Caretaker.

Whumpee sobbed in relief, leaning into Caretaker's hand as they pulled the gag out of their mouth.

"C-caretaker, y-you came-" they gasped, disbelief clear in their eyes.

"Shush, it's alright, I've got you," Caretaker reassured, moving to work on the cuffs securing Whumpee's hands to the wall. "Everything's gonna be fi-"

They were cut off by the sound of gunshots in the hallway, deafeningly loud. Someone was calling Caretaker's name, loud and panicked.

Caretaker paled, turning to the cuffs with a sort of desperation Whumpee had never seen before. "Damn lock won't give," they whispered under their breath, brow furrowing.

"Caretaker, where are you?!" The shout came from through the open door, and Caretaker glanced over with a wince. "We got the plans. We need to get out of here. NOW!"

Caretaker bit back a swear word, giving the lock a few more desperate tugs. "M'sorry," they gasped, and when Whumpee met their eyes, they understood.

"N-no, wait caretaker, pleas-"

Bang!

Caretaker swallowed down a sob. "I-I'll be back," they promised shakily, before standing-

turning-

running-

away-

leaving Whumpee behind.

Alone.

They stared at that door as the sounds of escape faded away, dreading the moment Whumper would return again.

Because this time, they couldn't even hope for rescue.

Whumpmas in July: Day Nine

Mind Games

TW: Gaslighting, captivity, impending torture (vague)

Whumper sighed when they saw the mess.

Their pet knelt next to an overturned flowerpot, tears already welling up in their eyes. Nothing was broken except for the plant's delicate leaves, and the dirt on the floor would take mere moments to clean up.

But Whumper had nothing to do this afternoon. And their pet looked so enticing when they were afriad.

"What happened here, Whumpee?" They asked, tone dark and stern.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I m-made a mistake-"

"And you didn't even bother to clean it? What, are you expecting me to fix your mistake?"

Their eyes widened in terror. "N-no sir, I just... last time I cleaned up a mistake, you said I was trying to hid-"

"And now you're talking back? You really must want to be punished, Whumpee, is that what it is? Are you getting bored of my kind treatment?"

"No-," they gasped, "No sir I don't... I'm no-"

"So you think you don't deserve punishment? You think you deserve my forgiveness?"

"I-I... I don't-" they sobbed, searching for something, anything to say.

Whumper sighed again, pinching the bridge of their nose. "In the basement, Whumpee. Now. Or I'll double the punishment you've already earned yourself."

Whumpee swallowed their words and got shakily to their feet. They padded over to the basement door, wiping their tears as they went.

Whumpmas in July: Day Seven

Favorite Whump Fics

Bold of you to think I can choose just one. Also, some of these are series, so beware: you might get tricked into reading twenty chapters, one after the other, for a couple hours straight. I speak from personal experience.

Little Fox- series by @painsandconfusion that I absolutely adore. The characters are so squishable, and the writing gives me whumperflies every time I read.

A Healers Hands- this short one-shot written by @whump-in-the-closet makes me soooo happy. One of my favorite short form whump fics I've read.

Whumping the Whumpers- another @painsandconfusion series, soooo good. Absolutely amazing. Nate and Ethan will forever be my favorite whump duo.

Ill or injured character(s) at the ER! Waiting rooms are fun. So is check-in, where you can wow the staff with some spectacular vitals. They might send you to trauma. Or board you in the hallway for a couple of days… so many options!

Here’s one of my very old fics on the topic:

(The link didn’t work, so this is copy/paste of the text. It’s Spider-Man)

“Alright, kid. Here. Sit down.” Tony bundles Peter into the hard plastic seat, extricating Peter’s arm from over his shoulder. “Ok. Sit tight.”

He hurries to the front desk, ignoring the fact that he’s still wearing his Iron Man suit, and everybody is staring at him. “I’ve gotta check him in,” Tony says, slightly breathless. He inclines his head toward the kid, who’s hunched over now, one hand holding his head, and the other his ribs.

“What happened?” the woman behind the counter asks, eyebrow cocked as if she’s ready for an unbelievable story.

“Oh, you know, just a normal evening of fighting crime, and the kid took a fall.” Tony tears his eyes away from Peter to look back at the nurse. “Do I have to, like fill something out for him?”

“Here.” The woman shoves a clipboard at him, still giving Tony a wary look.

“Yeah, just put it down.” The woman obliges, and Tony grabs it from the counter, along with a pen with a flower on the end. “Right.” He runs back to Peter’s side.

“How you feeling, kid?” Tony scribbles Peter’s name at the top of the form.

Peter groans, and moves his hand from the flat of his ribcage to his stomach. “I don’t feel good.”

“Like, what kind of don’t feel good?” Tony squints at the form. “What do you want me to write on here, besides that you should listen to me when I tell you you can’t make a jump.”

“I…yeah, I—” the kid starts, but he cuts himself off with a gag.

“Whoa, alright.” Tony hovers his hand over Peter’s shoulder. “Hey,” he calls to a passing nurse. “Can you get him one of those things to puke in?”

Peter retches into his lap before the nurse comes back with a pink basin, but the next, more productive heave is contained.

“Geez, kid, what did you eat?” Tony asks, wrinkling his nose.

“I…I don’t remember,” the kid mutters, catching a breath before he throws up again.

“You don’t…? Is that memory loss? Do you want me to write that down on here?” He jabs the point of the flower pen at the form.

“I, no, I’m fine…”

“You’re definitely not fine. I think you have a concussion and broken ribs, but what do I know?” It comes out louder than Tony meant it to. Everyone who wasn’t already staring definitely is now.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers. There’s spit running down his chin. He sounds like he’s about to cry.

Tony sighs. “No, it’s ok, kid.” He gives Peter a pat on the back and looks down at the next question. “Are you allergic to any medications?”

The kid weakly shakes his head.