Whumblr - Tumblr Posts
some whump stuff on here is just so funny to me.
bc it’ll be smth like ‘Whumpee just got an invitation from Whumper, they say it’s urgent. Whumpee figures they might as well, Whumper’s a nice guy anyways’, and like it’s just so funny!!
bc logically ik that the whumpee/whumper names are just placeholders, but reading about Whumpee or someone else deciding whether or not to trust this guy named Whumper is just hilarious to me. idk. do you guys get it??
MY ENGLISH TEACHER'S LETTING ME WRITE WHUMP ABOUT A SERIAL KILLER FOR THE FINAL YIPPEEEEE!!!!!!
question for the other (more experienced) whump blogs on here: do yall allow round robin replies on your posts? like— adding onto the idea and running with it? I see it a lot on the fandom/prompts side of tumblr, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on whumpblr, so I figured it was worth asking
!!WHUMP WRITERS!! IMPORTANT PHYSIOLOGY KNOWLEDGE!
When writing about whumpers choking people, there’s an urge to state or describe merely the process of squeezing.
However, generally, this will only restrict the passage of blood to the brain, producing dizziness, and put stress on the jawbone and neck muscles, producing pain.
Being dizzy and in pain is great, but there’s just one problem: your whumpee can STILL BREATHE. That won’t do.
Therefore, in addition to squeezing, the whumper can press their palm into the center of the neck, crushing the lungs. Maybe your whumpee will even make fun gagging noises! 🖤
There was blood on the hero’s hands. The hero had felt blood before, on themself, on their knuckles, on their clothes. This time it hurt. It was cold, and it cracked every time the hero moved their fingers, and yet they couldn’t look away.
If they looked away they would have to look at—they couldn’t look.
The hero stared at their hands. They were cold, too.
Footsteps, the hush of clothing.
“Hey, hey, hey,” hands skated along the Hero’s chin, tilting it up. “Hey, can you look at me, please?”
They blinked.
“There you are,” the villain murmured, hands gentle as they smoothed the hero’s jaw. “Love, can you—“
“I need to buy eggs.” The hero’s lips were numb.
The villain paused. “Eggs?”
“I’m out,” they stared at the villains face. It was safe, and it was familiar, and they were staring back at them with worry. “They’re my roommate’s favorite.”
The villain knelt, then, eyes briefly dropping to the hero’s hands before training back on their face.
“You’re in shock.”
“My mailman keeps putting my mail in my neighbors’ mailbox. It’s never the same neighbor either, so I think it’s on purpose—“
The villain looked pained. “It wasn’t your fault.”
The hero had words, and then they didn’t. It was their fault, wasn’t it? They hadn’t—their mind slipped off it like water, and their chest eased.
“I failed my geometry test,” they whispered, and their tongue hurt.
The villains hands shifted to the hero’s forearms. Gentle, so gentle. Like the hero would break if they weren’t.
“Can you stand up for me, please?”
“It’s cold.”
The villains face rippled.
“The city is in the middle of a heatwave,” they said softly.
The hero drifted, and found the sun. It looked warm. So warm.
“I’m cold.”
“I know, love.”
They drifted back. It felt like sinking.
“They’re cold, too.”
The villain tensed. They looked over. The hero didn’t.
“It wasn’t your fault,” the villain repeated.
“They stopped breathing,” the hero whispered, and the words cut their lungs on the way out, shredding their tongue.
The villain’s face dropped.
“Let me help you,” the begged. “Please.”
“I tried so hard,” the hero’s voice broke. “And I did compressions and their ribs broke but they—“ their voice left, their mind slid.
The villain’s hands gripped their face, guiding it to look at them.
“You did everything you could.”
Their voice was firm.
There was no room for argument.
“They didn’t deserve to die,” the hero sobbed, broken wretched sobs that ached on the way out.
“Love,” the villain breathed, and then they were sobbing into the villain’s chest like a child. Their hand rubbed soothing circles on the hero’s back. “I know. I know.”
“They were just a kid—“
“I know,” the villain said softly.
The hero shattered, and they looked, and it hurt and it hurt and it—their mind slipped.
They blinked, and the villain was wrapping a blanket around them on a too soft couch.
“Where?”
The villain’s head snapped up, and the tension bled from their face.
“You passed out.”
“Oh.”
The memories came like sludge. They stung.
“It hurts,” they breathed.
“It’s okay, love. It’s okay.” The hero took the mug of tea they were handed. “Breathe.”
The hero did.
They watched the villain. There was a plant in the corner of the apartment. It made the hero smile. So mundane, so soft. So gentle, their villain.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
And this time, the hero almost believed them.
Later, when the tea was cold and they had pressed themselves against the villain’s side, the villain kissed the top of their head and murmured “Stay.”
Bundled in blankets and the villain’s arms, the hero did.
What's a niche/uncommon whump thing you love? (Could be a trope, whump for a specific character, a setting, anything)
I’m not sure if any of these count as uncommon, but:
Any form of mind control. Compulsion, glamour, magic, etc. I have a special appreciation for fae glamour/compulsion specifically.
The fae world, in general, as a setting.
Delirium, in any form, really. Fever, sleep deprivation, etc.
Sensory deprivation.
And I know this one is definitely not niche, but kidnapping is just AHHH
Hi there!
Having whumpee OCs of your own often means having a preferred way of whumping for the each one. Sometimes it's not planned, not deliberate - just a feeling these kinds of suffering fit them right.
If this sounds relatable for you, which whump tropes each one of your OCs usually get? Which ones are just made for them?
Ooooh, this is a good question!
Adelie: exhausted, bloody, and bruised, knowing that no matter what she does, she cannot save someone in a given situation, and blaming herself for it.
Melody: being confined or bound, especially small rooms/fear of her whumper no longer being imprisoned
Cat: having to watch as someone he loves is hurt, helpless to stop it
Travis: the people he loves being hurt mere hours after he left them, but being too far away to do anything
"Alexi? No, A-0717, the last leftover human weapon from previous civilization. You are under arrest under third king anti human weaponization decree
Drop all your catalyst on the ground and do not resist"
