Some WIPs On My Newest Sketchbook! Currently Working On The First One

the audible damage to a whumpee's voice from the harm that's come to them... hoarse and quiet from being choked, or from screaming until their voice gives out, or from crying so hard for such a long time. the raspy way everything is forced out, the way their voice cracks and squeaks, the way they wince and cringe and swallow hard before trying again. it hurts to listen to them.

The little high-pitched "nonononono" before a gutteral agonized scream of pain>>>

Broken Things

Caretaker rushes into the basement, although "dungeon" might be a better word. It's cold, and dark, and surprisingly wet---the only sounds are that of Caretaker's breathing and the dripping, coming from somewhere.

Teammates are up above, and they'll probably want to pick this place apart, but Caretaker is only worried about one thing right now. They walk quickly, almost running, to peek in every cell.

Most of them are empty. One has something dark and vaguely human-shaped inside of it, and although the noxious scent of rot makes Caretaker's stomach turn, it's slightly comforting---Whumpee wouldn't have been down here long enough to turn into *that*. Right?

Others have similar bodies, in various states of decomposition. Many of them are missing limbs, and one is still faintly warm, surrounded by ashes, burnt so severely that some of their blackened skeleton is exposed. Probably not Whumpee either. Probably.

Eventually, after however many cells, Caretaker finds one in specific. They almost pass it over---the dark form on the floor could be nothing more than a trick of the light. But it's not. Caretaker rushes in. It's Whumpee.

"Mangled" is the first word that comes to mind. Mangled, but in a more deliberate, more *personal* way than being mangled after a long fall, or a car crash. Caretaker can't see any bones that *aren't* broken in one way or another. It breaks Caretaker's heart---how long have they been lying here?

Whumpee is covered in blood, much of it dry, some of it fresh. It looks like they've been covered in red paint. Their hair is almost fused to their skin, with how dirty and matted it is.They *are* breathing, but just barely---it's shallow and labored. Their eyes are open, but they're glazed and unfocused. Alive, but very close to dead. Caretaker, very carefully, takes Whumpee and cradles them in their arms, wiping their bloody brow with a sweaty palm. It's going to be difficult to move Whumpee without further damage.

Caretaker hears footsteps, but from the clomp of the boots and the length of the gait, it's Team Leader. Caretaker calls out: "In here!"

Team Leader rounds the corner. "We're just about finished.." they trail off, their breath catching when they see Whumpee.

Caretaker only now realizes they've started crying. They attempt to speak, but the words lose their footing and fall into a sob.

"They're not dead yet," says Team Leader, ever the utilitarian. Their voice is hard, but Caretaker knows they're probably just as distressed, inside. "You think it'd be easier if we.. oh, fuck it."

Team Leader steps in and reaches down to take Whumpee in their arms.

"What are you doing?" says Caretaker, a bit angrier than intended. "They can't.."

"The only thing I care about right now is getting them out of here, Caretaker." To their credit, Team Leader holds Whumpee very, very carefully, like a piece of pottery that could shatter at any moment. It pains Caretaker to see Whumpee like this, like just another broken thing.

Even if they're not dead, even if they don't die.. how alive will they be, after it's all over? *I guess it is over now*, thinks Caretaker. Very quietly, they follow Team Leader back towards the sunlight.

The whumpee was used to running wild and free, and they weren’t used to being in the same place for long. The whumper didn’t care, keeping them in the same cramped cage, and rarely if ever letting them out. The whumpee hates it, they felt cramped and claustrophobic, and it was almost comparable to the torture they suffered every day.

I really like the trope where the whumpee is emotionally exhausted from something and then slowly and silently… rests their forehead against the caretaker’s chest. Maybe they’ll cry, maybe they’ll stay quiet, maybe they’ll hug it out. But the moment where whumpee shows that small amount of vulnerability and trust towards caretaker is beautiful to me.

Military whump prompts

(because Reddit is down and I’m chronically online)

Hearing the whumpee’s screams over the radio as they’re captured, the rest of the team frozen in horror.

• Patch job in the middle of the battlefield, someone pressing down on a wound with their bare hands, whispering, “Stay with me, okay? Just stay.”

• Post-mission debrief, but the whumpee is barely holding it together, swaying on their feet as the adrenaline wears off.

• The whumpee refusing pain meds because they need to “stay sharp,” only to pass out mid-conversation.

• “I don’t leave people behind,” they growl, limping and bleeding but refusing to abandon the unconscious teammate over their shoulder.

• Waking up in a field hospital, disoriented and panicked, pulling out the IV before being restrained by a firm but gentle voice.

• “We’re not going to make it.” “Yes, we are.” Cue one of them doing something reckless to ensure the other gets out alive.

• Cold, soaked to the bone, huddled in a ruined building during a downpour, one of them feverish while the other desperately tries to keep them awake.

• Hiding an injury to avoid being benched, only for it to get worse at the worst possible moment.

• “You don’t understand—I can’t go back. I can’t be discharged.”

• A high-ranking officer demanding a mission debrief while the whumpee is barely conscious, words slurring, bleeding through their uniform.

• A medic struggling to save the whumpee in the back of a jolting vehicle, yelling for the driver to go faster.

• Post-rescue, sitting by the whumpee’s bedside, counting every beep of the heart monitor like a prayer.

Whumpee has been possessed/brainwashed, and fights Caretaker viciously.

Caretaker, who is Whumpee's closest friend/lover/family member/etc, refuses to throw a punch or use their weapon to fight Whumpee, as Whumpee proceeds to beat them to a pulp.

Even though they're being beaten close to death, Caretaker still refuses to attack; they didn't want to hurt Whumpee even though they're brainwashed/possessed.

today I offer you: hiding injuries!

consider, however: whumpee isn’t hiding this injury because they don’t want their team to find out they’re hurt, but because they’re afraid of what whumper will do to them if the extent of their current injuries is revealed. whumper can find them anywhere — that much has been made quite clear by now. no matter how far they run, where they try to hide, there’s nowhere that they can truly escape from whumper.

their injuries are bad enough as it is. smaller wounds, of course, nothing that can’t be hidden under loose clothing, but it’s enough for them to feel the sting of the cuts and bruises every time the skin around their joints stretches. it’s enough that they can’t escape the feeling of the wounds on their skin even days later. it’s enough that they have to put in an effort, consciously remind themself that no, they can’t go to the infirmary, because if they do it will be so much worse.

so they hide it. they stay quiet, they patch themself up as well as they can (but never too much, lest whumper suspect they had help), while the secret slowly eats them from the inside out. they can see the concerned glances from their friends, but no one will say anything to whumpee — not when the slightest question of are you okay has whumpee snapping and storming off.

(they know their friends will find out far too easily if they don’t.)

and so they hide, as slowly, not slowly enough, the injuries start to get worse. they’re harder to hide, going further down their limbs and taking longer and longer to heal each time, until finally, whumper decides it’s time to go for the face. now, whumpee is faced with a decision: how on earth are they supposed to hide the wound this time? it’s a huge bruising slice, right down their cheek — their hair can cover a good bit, but not enough to conceal this. the best they can do is put a patch over it and hope that no one asks.

but of course someone asks. of course someone corners them in an otherwise empty room, backing them to the wall with an expression of so much concern and worry in their face. of course caretaker just has to reach up and tug the edge of the patch up, just enough to reveal the edge of the barely-scabbed-over cut running down the length of whumpee’s cheek.

and of course whumpee can’t stop the tears from dripping down as caretaker holds their jaw so carefully and whispers, what happened to you?

because now that caretaker knows, whumpee knows it’s going to get so, so much worse.

Someone who hates wearing clothes with shirt collars too close to their neck or throat

Someone who is kidnapped by whumper and had to wear a collar

Someone who constantly feels like they have to pull it away but it’s locked on, or they get hurt when they try to pull at it

Someone who feels like they are choking from the collar because they think it is too close to their throat

Someone who is chained to the wall by their collar and can’t move more than a few feet without choking themselves (or having it so close to the wall and high that they can’t sit down without choking themselves, or so low that they have to crawl around and aren’t able to stand up)

I hate close collars on my shirt and am constantly pulling them away so I just think that is something interesting to think about

whump prompts I live for

When Whumpee still acts fearless and unaffected, even after being rescued/escaping from Whumper, so their friends think they’re fine. Then one day whumpee is reminded of their time with Whumper and all there suppressed emotions start coming out and their friends are freaked out because they have never seen them cry before.

when caretaker and whumpee have been friends for years and have always trusted each other with literally everything, but after whumper broke whumpee down to nothing and filled their head with lies, they don’t know who they can trust. They flinch away from any kind of contact with caretaker and won’t tell them about their trauma or let them clean up their wounds. They keep telling caretaker they can do everything themselves, until one day they can’t and caretaker has to save the day, helping to rebuild that trust.

when whumpee is distant and cold but after being given drugs to help with the pain of their wounds (Forcefully or not), they are all giggly and unable to control their own body, so caretaker has to treat them kinda like a baby as they clean up their wounds and get them to bed all while whumpee babbles incoherently. (Bonus points if whumpee ends up confessing something to caretaker while drugged, especially if it’s that they love them.)

When the Whumper is trying to break Whumpees spirit, but whumpee keeps on making jokes and messing with Whumper, even while being tortured. That is, until things get a little too…intense and everything goes really silent and oh! Is that a tear I see? Now whumpee is sobbing and begging for the whumper to stop, unable to keep up their witty appearance and absolutely hating themself for it.

Whumpee has a huge fear of vomit but has gotten super sick and needs to puke up all the stuff in their stomach. They keep telling caretaker that they are fine, even though they obviously aren’t. Their face is glossy with sweat as they swallow, hoping not to puke. Eventually caretaker has to drag them to the bathroom and force them to vomit, (ie; touching their gag reflex, pushing on their stomach, describing gross things as Whumpee leans over the toilet bowl.) much to the dismay of Whumpee who is hating every minute of this, even though they know it’s good for them. (Bonus points if Whumper is the reason they are sick, like they gave them the flu or force fed them or gave them poison, etc etc.)