Whump Writing - Blog Posts

Prompt #39

Cw: Drug use

The villain's head throbbed with pain, as they willed themself to sit up. The room was dark, with barely any light. A tiny ray of shine was coming from the window on the right, and they exhaled. Before they could figure out where they were, footsteps echoed in the room, nearing them in the passing seconds.

"Finally awake, are we?" The person spoke, the all-too-familiar voice. The villain recognized it almost immediately but still had difficulty making out what the other was saying. They blinked a few times to make his eyes focus, and brain, work. However, to their veil, it didn't work. Not really.

"Where am I?" The villain whispered into the dark, their throat so dry, it felt like he had just swallowed a handful of sand. A scared feeling crawled up their spine, raising goosebumps in its wake. The hero's voice frightening them, making them feel so small.

"You're in my office. I'm supposed to hold you hostage, until the morning." The hero uttered lazily. Unaware of how the villain's body was shaking, crawling itself in. They forced themself to say something.

"I-...I don't understand." The villain said, gulping.

"I drugged you and then brought you here. Now, do you understand?" The hero asked, an irritated edge accompanying their words. The villain closed in on themself even more and nodded in the pitch black. They blamed themself for ever believing the hero and they had anything going on between them. Clearly not.

Writing Update

so, I never use Tumblr (well, I use it daily, but to look for journaling inspo and never post nor reblog) but I had an amazing discussion with @jasontoddisrightfuckyou and need to share, because yeah, it made me realize a few things about what happened to me during this past year.

(Also Perse, some of what I’m about to say literally are copy/paste of what I told you, because I’m shocked at how easily I can manage to put words on my feeling when I talk with you) So recently, I noticed how easy it was for me to write in other fandoms: I can write way more and longer fanfictions without even noticing it.

I tried to understand why this is happening, and I think I found out. 

I wrote about everything I wanted to write about on Batman fandom. Don't get me wrong, I love batman and I love reading fanfic, but I don't have anything else to write about since all my favorite tropes have been covered already. I should maybe rewrite my old fics and make them better since I guess I did improve during the past years, but writing about batman makes me feel like I’m doing the same thing over and over again. I have the feeling that I really want to write batfam again, but like when I’m in front of a new document, nothing is coming and I’m just struggling and being like "do I even want to tell a story?"

I don’t know about English, but in French, we say that things are being “reheated” when the same concept is used over and over again, and I feel like this is how I see my writing in the Batman fandom now. 

I started to write batman because of the server I used to be in and because I knew it was a popular fandom. I had never written in English at that time and had very low self-esteem which made me crave validation that I knew I could have in the DC fandom. Maybe also because I was in a server with what as used to see as “big names” of the fandom that made me feel like I should own my place with them and I was like "look I can write too, even if I’m younger and if English isn’t my native language” etc.

Somehow, I ended up wanting to write about other fandoms but I was like "no, I can only write about dc because I need to “make a name” in the DC fandom, and so it kind of stopped my creativity.

Now I’m not writing to please anyone anymore. I write because I like to, and I like knowing that I can write and because I might have a terrible brainrot. 

I do enjoy Batman a lot, and I love reading all the Jason whump fanfictions I can find and seeing all the comments on my old fanfictions. I love talking about DC and I love discussing Jason whump, but I think it will take time for me to write again in this fandom. I can’t find any more stories I want to share with you, and I don’t want to write because I feel the pressure to do it.

I’m now in an amazing server with amazing people that makes me want to write for myself and makes me want to be the best version of myself (as a person, but also as a writer) and I am so grateful for them all.

(Small NB since I noticed I might have not been clear enough: I’m not blaming my old server, but mostly my old state of mind of me being a people pleaser and feeling like I needed validation because I was really insecure)

You can join the server here (it’s a DC server, btw) as long as you’re respecting everyone and the rules :D

Also, you can still find me on ao3 

I have no idea how I’m supposed to end a Tumblr post, so bye everyone, and take care <3,

✧₊˚ Harmonique ˚₊✧

Most importantly, write about what you want to write about, and don’t get yourself trapped in the boundaries you created. 

Shout out to whoever made a whole ass song about my fanfiction. That was super cool.

Please check out the rules before beginning to complete the prompts!

Continuing on if you have lmao

Maylancholy Prompts 2025:

May 1. "Don't leave me here."

May 2. Major character death

May 3. Shattered trust

May 4. Bleeding out

May 5. "I can't feel my hands."

May 6. Buried alive

May 7. Feverish and delusional

May 8. Shackled

May 9. Wrong place, wrong time

May 10. "You don’t remember me, do you?"

May 11. Cursed to suffer

May 12. Dragged back

May 13. Choking on blood

May 14. Paranoia setting in

May 15. "Please, just kill me."

May 16. Held at knifepoint

May 17. Left behind

May 18. Possessed

May 19. "I swear it wasn't me."

May 20. Overworked and collapsing

May 21. Stabbed in the back

May 22. Trapped with them

May 23. No way out

May 24. "You were never supposed to find out."

May 25. Drugged and defenseless

May 26. Branding iron

May 27. Forced into silence

May 28. Tied to the altar

May 29. Haunting whispers

May 30. "This isn't real."

May 31. Escape... or not?

Alternative Prompts (If any daily prompt doesn’t take your fancy feel free to replace it with one of these!):

Alt 1. Crawling to safety

Alt 2. No anesthesia

Alt 3. Drenched in something awful

Alt 4. The sound of chains

Alt 5. Shoved into a tight space

Alt 6. A wound that won’t heal

Alt 7. Gasping for breath

Alt 8. Marked for death

Alt 9. Waking up somewhere unfamiliar

Alt 10. "It’s already too late."

little late BUT here we go y'all! many thanks to everyone who recommended prompts! EDIT - FIXED DAY 30 ON THE IMAGES

Welcome to Whumpay 2025! Up above you will see the basic prompt list and down below the cut you will see it written out in a list as the rules

Rules are the same as usual -

You only have to use one (Or two, if you’re doing the extreme edition.) prompt a day! But you’re welcome to use multiple if you want to, and it still counts for both.

I know the description of the blog says it’s a writing event, but if you want to draw or make other kinds of content, that’s cool too.

Have fun, tag content warnings (such as noncon, graphic violence, etc) and try not to be crushed by the mortifying ordeal of posting your writing.

This is a pretty chill event so you can start posting whenever but I’ll be reblogging posts made to the #Whumpay2025 tag throughout May.

scaled things back a bit this year, so theres no mini challenges or extreme edition, but if you want a smaller challenge choose one prompt from each category and post one each week

I - Trapped

1 - Used as a Weapon

2 - Hostage Situation

3 - Crucifixion 

4 - Toxic Relationship

5 - Incapable of Disobeying

6 - Muzzled

II - Supernatural

7 - Psychic Link

8 - Immortality

9 - Magic Overuse

10 - Loss of Power

11 - Truth Serum

12 - Aftermath of Possession

III - Mundane

13 - Allergic Reaction

14 - Flu/Fever

15 - Forgetting to Eat

16 - Tonsillitis 

17 - Financial Trouble

18 - Falling Out

IV - Dialogue

19 - “Don't make me choose.”

20 - “Let them go!”

21 - “They'll be fine…. Right?”

22 - “I've got you.”

23 - “Please don't leave me.”

24 - “I don't want to scare you, but….”

VI - Post Mortem

25 - Character Death

26 - Funeral

27 - Resurrection

28 - Grief

29 - Time Loop

30 - Mistaken for Dead

31 - Self-Sacrifice 

ALT PROMPTS

1 - Buried Alive

2 - Empathetic Healing

3 - Gossip/Bullying 

4 - “You’re hurting me!”

5 - Came Back Wrong

Spellcasters hate this fact but if you just stick your fingers in their mouth while they're casting a spell with a verbal component it's literally more effective than a counter spell.

ok but couples who get whumped together! One is kidnapped, bound and gagged, and used as lure and bait to trap the other one. Whumper laids out whumpee to take out caretaker, and once caretaker sees their beloved in distress, once they remove the gag they hear "IT'S A TRAP" and it's all over for them. <3

i really like the trope of an extremely traumatized whumpee sharing a bed with caretaker, who just happens to be their partner.

they don’t do anything, it’s not like that.

it’s the way that caretaker holds whumpee, giving them warmth and a sense of security, helping them fall asleep, and comforting them after nightmares.

now whumpee can relax despite everything they went through; they trust caretaker so much, and caretaker loves them so much, even with all their trauma.

whumpee can only sleep when caretaker is near them, they’ve become their entire sense of security.

it’s just so sad- but so perfect 😭

love that trope, y’all ✨

LULLABY 3/3

Again, mention/implication of SA. Nothing graphic, as usual. Last episode! Hope you like it.

The day he was brought in, he made the whole block go silent for a minute. A murderer– that was what he was in for. Which he quietly but sternly denied every time someone questioned him. It was hard to believe him though, as he looked built to kill. Six feet tall, at least, a mountain of muscle, and a look that silenced even the worst convicts. He never needed to use his fists to gain respect from all. And fear.

For Lull, it was the latter. A dull, resigned fear. It was just another shoe in his ribs, another hand fisting his hair, another voice laughing at him.

His name was Garrett. Not that it mattered. But the name stuck with the dreamwalker, after one particular day.

Lull was limping back from to the cellblock, his hair damp from the shower. Cold water, as always, since he had found that inmates would leave him alone if he was late enough. The water left was freezing, but the situation was still much better than the alternative. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, desperately staggering forward. He had to reach his bunk before the lockdown bell, or else the guards would kill him. Not literally, that would be too merciful. But he could feel his muscles turning to cotton, his head pounding with the overwhelming need to sleep. Before he knew it, he was falling.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, his head hitting a soft surface instead of the floor. Lull flinched away, his movements sluggish, but someone held him back. He froze, meeting the other man's eyes, and immediately abandoned the fight. It was that new inmate, Garrett, towering three feet over him.

Lull sagged in his grip, going limp in anticipation. He knew how to be away, when it would happen. Hurt less this way.

But this time, the man held him up instead of letting him crumple. The former villain risked an eye contact, and met a frowning face. Bad. Bad. It was always worse when they were in a bad mood.

"Hey. You can't stand or what ?"

Lull's face did something complicated, before settling on confusion. What ? His knees were weak, but he managed to stay on his feet. Garrett's hands were still tight on his arms.

"Are you gonna collapse again? Coz the late shift guards are gonna kill you if you don't make it to the block."

As if he didn't already knew that. Still trying to catch his breath, and to keep his eyes from closing, he reluctantly accepted Garrett's help, leaning on his shoulder for balance. The corridor seemed to be moving, even though he was the one swaying unsteadily on his feet. It was only after a few steps, when the bigger man's hands stayed where they were supposed to be, that Lull started to relax. For some reason, it seemed that the other inmate was genuinely helping. However, the dreamwalker knew better than to hope. Eventually, everything always had a price.

With Garrett's help, he stumbled and collapsed on his bunk bed. The other man didn't comment, taking a few steps away, toward his own cell. Through the bars, Lull could see a group of familiar faces, hovering nearby. Their gazes were aimed right at him, their smiles sharp. Full of unwanted promises. But he was already slipping, unable to resist the tug of sleep. Once again, he would be helpless. Once again, he would wake up covered in bruises. Humiliated, broken.

The mattress bent under someone else's weight. Garrett, still there. He had noticed the other inmates too.

"Hope you don't mind, I think I'll sit here for a little while. The mattress is comfortable."

It took a few seconds for the words to register in Lull's sleep deprived brain. But when it did, his eyes widened slightly in surprise –and wariness. But in his state, there wasn't much he could do but pray, and he quickly fell into oblivion.

It was his first peaceful night in months.

When he woke up, he was alone. As usual, he checked himself up, his surprise growing. No new bruises, no sore points or body aches. Garrett had... Had actually protected him. But why ?

Throughout the day, Lull noticed that Garrett was watching him. Not the creepy kind, when someone would follow him until he couldn't stay awake anymore. Just... Watching. The others must've noticed as well, since no one made a move to approach him. That man was not someone you'd want to cross.

Lull fell asleep during unlock time, in the courtyard. One second he was awake, swaying on his feet, and the second, he was collapsing to the concrete floor. Before anyone could take advantage of it, Garrett sat down on the bench nearby. The others took the hint. Although a lot of them glared at him, muttering curses. Hovering. Waiting. They wouldn't let go of their favourite toy so easily.

It happened during work detail; Lull was sorting clothes for laundry, and Garrett was working in the workshop. Too far. Three men pushed him in a corner. They didn't bother with gentleness. When they finally left, Lull was barely conscious, his breathing hoarse and painful from the new bruises etched on his chest. He was surprised to find that's he was crying. He couldn't feel anything, numb to the world, but tears ran down his face nonetheless. His body remembered what his mind refused to.

The guards found him like this, and didn't bother with questions. They hauled him up, his legs too weak to hold him. And when they dropped him on the floor of his cell, Garrett was there. Waiting. His arms were crossed and his expression blank, but Lull could see the anger in his eyes. As soon as they were alone, he approached, and let out a sigh.

"How did you survive that long in here ?"

Lull eyed him warily, pushing himself up on shaky hands. His vision was going in and out, as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Why did you help me? What do you want from me ?"

"Nothing."

The former villain didn't believe him. But it didn't mattered. What did were the hands pulling him up with surprising gentleness, and taking him to the bunk bed. It was the last thing he felt before passing out cold.

Things changed quietly. None of them was very talkative, and it was often in silence that Lull would fall asleep without fear. Garrett didn't need any warning to catch him before the fall. At night, they'd huddle together. Then, they could speak. Just a few words, whispered.

"I'm innocent. Never killed that guy."

Lull had sleepily hummed, and nodded.

"I know."

It was all they needed. And if the former villain sometimes flinched away from his touch, Garrett never commented on it.

They knew their relationship was fragile, and could shatter at any moment. But for the moment, they were together. And that was the closest thing to happiness Lull had ever experienced. He would never dream again, but maybe he could live.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88 @whatiswhump @scoundrelwithboba

@phoenixpromptsandstuff @bacillusinfection @artfulbok @melpomenelamusa

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.

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.

tw: drugging

a defiant whumpee trying to claw at whumper’s arms in protest as their body reacts to the sedative that was just injected into them. they can only muster aggravated, painful groans and whimpers as whumper cards a hand through their hair.

“shh, my love… don’t fight it,” they whisper, guiding their captive to lay back down.

the world seems to fade in and out, blood rushing through their ears drowning out the voices around them. it hurts- is all whumpee can think, the pain is setting their body alight and sending stars to dance before their eyes. they’re confused and scared, the world too big and loud for their semi conscious brain to comprehend.

but then, arms are wrapping around their fragile body, settling the shakes that ravage their frame. they panic at first, weakly fighting against whatever new torture this is; but then they hear it, the soft lull of caretaker’s voice. a hand cards through their hair and the rumble of caretakers chest is welcoming as they press against it.

the world is slipping through their fingers now, and whumpee lets their consciousness fade away as they weakly grip onto the back of caretaker’s shirt.

CW: Flashbacks, ptsd mention, past trauma mention, Whumpee guilt

Whumpee sees their face in the bathroom mirror, the overgrown hair, bloodshot eyes, and the bruises that their entire body is covered with.

Just then, some flashbacks from the time they were being tortured come. They remember how the Whumper used to love running their hand through Whumpee's hair.

Suddenly, Whumpee is possessed by the urge to take an electric shaver and they run it over their hair.

They don't stop until all their soft, beautiful locks are lying in clumps next to their bare feet on the bathroom floor.

When Caretaker walks in and sees this, they take away the shaver from Whumpee, because they don't want Whumpee to hurt themselves by mistake.

Caretaker sets down the shaver and turns to Whumpee.

But Whumpee's eyes are cold and empty.

It makes Caretaker worry about them even more.

"What do you think you're doing!" Caretaker screams at the Whumpee.

Whumpee breaks down and drops to the floor, head in their hands.

In their eyes Caretaker can see the torture they are still mentally going through from their time in captivity.

"Why'd you do that, Whumpee?" they ask.

The Whumpee finally raises their head and looks Caretaker in the eye.

"I just ... I just felt like it."

"Then you should have asked me to do it for you!"

"I wanted it gone now! I JUST FUCKING WANTED IT GONE NOW! So leave me alone!"

Caretaker has never felt so helpless.

They crouch down on the floor and look in Whumpee's eyes.

Eyes that used to be vibrant but are lifeless now.

They place a hand on Whumpee's shoulder and speak in a gentle voice. "It's okay," they say to Whumpee, "I understand. Just please let me know first, next time you want to do that? Okay?"

When they hear this, Whumpee grabs Caretaker and pulls him in a tight embrace, on the wet floor of the bathroom and the Caretaker hugs them back.

"I'm sorry, Caretaker! I'm really sorry! I don't know what comes over me sometimes! I know you were only trying to help!"

So, Caretaker tries to calm Whumpee down. "Hey, just relax okay? You're with me now, Whumpee. You hear? Not Whumper! And you'll get used to it, just give it time. Let your body and your mind heal."

Once the Whumpee has calmed down enough, Caretaker helps them up and they take the electric shaver and use it to properly smooth out Whumpee's hair.

Caretaker then sets down the shaver and helps Whumpee take a shower.

Then, they bring fresh clothes to Whumpee and help put them on.

When the Whumpee is freshly showered and clean, Caretaker can see that they are feeling a little better.

So, Caretaker helps Whumpee to the bed.

They give Whumpee their meds and tuck them in.

"Just get some rest, okay?" They say to Whumpee.

Caretaker leans in and kisses Whumpee's forehead.

Whumpee finally closes their eyes and drifts off, finally feeling at peace.

Fucking love defiant whumpees who are all bark and no bite, especially when they kick up such a fuss with their whumper, spitting venomous words and promises that they'll never submit...

And all it takes for the cool, level-headed whumper to call their bluff and threaten them with a knife to the throat before whumpee is like a kicked puppy with their tail between their legs, a humiliating reveal to their true self that whumper can't help but rub in

The bidding to choose Whumpee's death had been raging hard for seven days. Now, the countdown to closing was at an end. They strained at their bonds. It was as useless fighting it now as it had been from the beginning. Whatever the rich bastards who won this auction wanted to do to them, they would do. There was no stopping it.

But when Whumper read the email from the winner to themself, the look on their face was one of revulsion - and that terrified Whumpee more than anything that they had seen or heard so far.

"Well," Whumper said, grimacing. "There's no accounting for taste."

Two henchmen came in and Whumpee was unbound for the first time in over a month. Not for long. They were dragged kicking and screaming toward a flat table, strapped on their back to the surface and left helpless once again.

They wailed piteously as Whumper strolled over, a thin rag in one hand and a large, opaque jug in the other.

Whumpee started to sob. They should never have let slip that their fear was suffocation, never because they knew what this meant. They were going to be waterboarded. Drowned where they lay, and because of the cloth, Whumper could do that to them as many times as they wanted.

"Please," Whumpee whimpered. "Please don't waterboard me, please, I-"

Whumper shook their head. "This isn't water."

Whumper popped the cap on the jug and the smell that hit Whumpee's nostrils was unmistakable.

Vanilla extract.

Shove your whumpee against the wall with whumpers arm pressed against their neck. Making Whumpee gasp quietly, fear filling their face as their eyes quickly flutter up to meet Whumper’s.

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  

A whumpee who was brutally tortured for information on their master, is eventually returned to their master who then proceeds to brutally torture them for potentially giving up valuable information.

Teen Wolf s3 x 1

Daniel Sharman | Isaac Lahey

Frozen Tears

Warnings: captivity, hypothermia, cold torture

“HELLO!” Whumpee shouted as they banged on the door to the cell they’d been thrown into hours ago. “PLEASE! ANYONE!”

They had been banging on the door for hours. Hours after Whumper had shoved them in here. Hours after they had walked every inch of the tiny cell looking for a way to escape. Hours after realizing if they didn’t get out of here soon, they would likely freeze. 

“PLEASE!” They said as another shiver wracked their body. They were so cold. And so tired. But they couldn’t stop. 

But they had to. It was becoming too hard to raise their fist to the door. Too hard to keep standing. As they slid down the door, rolling into a ball, they began to cry. It was hopeless. 

Whumpee was too tired and cold to notice that their tears froze on their cheeks, beading their eyelashes with tiny icicles. They were too cold and tired to notice the camera pointed directly at them from an observation window. And they were too tired and cold to notice when the door finally opened. 

🤤🤤🤤🤤

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

Injury Prompt #1004

Held by the neck