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whumpndump · 1 year

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Android Whumpee stripped down to their bare essential elements by Scientist Whumper, just a few circuit boards and some wires. They're still aware, and as sentient as they were before, but they just cant do anything. They can't see, or hear, or smell, or talk, nothing.... and then they get stored away like that, put into some box in a lab storage closet, likely to be forgotten about for a loooong time.

#whump #whumpdumps #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump prompt #android whump #nonhuman whumpee #android whumpee #nonhuman whump #sensory deprivation whump #not thinking about the concept of batteries bc if sentient robots exist here then so can battery-less ones

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crowzwhump · 7 months

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Tw: Vampire Whump | Vampire Whumper | Kidnapping | Noncon Vampire Feeding | Stalking (let me know if I need to add any!)

The city was bathed in the soft glow of the full autumns moon hung high in the sky, the soft glow of streetlights, casting long, eerie shadows across the empty sidewalks.

In this urban labyrinth, Whumpee, a young and unsuspecting individual, hurried through the narrow alleyways, unaware that they were being stalked by a predator of the darkest kind.

Whumper, a modern vampire with a taste for the thrill of the chase, had spotted Whumpee earlier in a bustling cafe, their heart racing as they sensed the sweet aroma of innocence that clung to their chosen prey.

As Whumpee turned the corner, they were startled to find themselves face to face with Whumper, who had been lurking in the shadows, just out of sight, now stepped into the dim light, a charming smile playing on their lips.

"Lost, are we?" Whumper purred, their voice as seductive as a siren's song.

They moved closer, their eyes locking onto Whumpee's, holding them in a captivating gaze.

Whumpee, disoriented and slightly flustered by the sudden encounter, stammered, "I… I wasn't expecting to run into anyone here."

The Whumper's smile widened.

"Well Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, Doesn't it?" they mused.

"In fact, I could use your help with something. You see, I'm looking for a particular place, and I seem to have lost my way. Would you be so kind as to assist me?"

Whumpee hesitated, their guard slowly lowering in the presence of the charismatic stranger.

"I suppose I could help you find your way," they replied cautiously.

Whumper's smile only grew, "Wonderful!" They said, "I do appreciate your kindness, truley."

As Whumpee turned their attention to giving directions, the Whumper's predatory instincts sharpened as the conversation continued, their words a hypnotic melody that dulled Whumpee's senses.

But as Whumpee's back was turned, Whumper finally saw their opportunity.

In a swift and shocking move, the vampire lunged forward, wrapping their cold, strong arms around Whumpee.

"W-what are you--!?" Whumpee gasped in surprise, the realization of their peril sinking in too late.

"You're too trusting, my dear," Whumper whispered, their breath sending shivers down Whumpee's spine. "But don't worry; I promise to make this encounter unforgettable."

Terror seized Whumpee's heart as they felt the fangs graze softly their neck, Their eyes widened while their breath quickening as panic set in.

"No, please, don't!" Whumpee begged, their voice quivering with fear. "I'll do anything, just let me go!"

"Anything, you say? How intriguing," Whumper purred, their grip tightening around Whumpee's trembling form pulling them closer against them. "But I'm afraid it's too late for negotiations, my dear."

Whumpee's breaths came in ragged gasps as they struggled to comprehend the nightmare they had been pulled into.

"What… what are you?" they stammered, tears welling up in their eyes.

The Whumper leaned in, their lips brushing against Whumpee's earlobe, sending a shiver of dread down their spine.

"I'm a creature of the night," Whumper hissed, their tone both seductive and menacing. "A vampire, if you will, and you, my dear, are about to become part of my world."

Tears streamed down Whumpee's face as they whispered, "P-please, there mm-must be another w-way. I don't ww-want to die."

The Whumper's eyes gleamed with an unholy hunger as they gazed into Whumpee's tear-filled eyes.

"Oh, you misunderstand me," They murmured. "I won't let you die. No, I intend to keep you alive, to make you my Blood Bag."

With a gentle but firm grip, Whumper lifted Whumpee's chin, exposing the pale, vulnerable curve of their throat while the moonlight danced upon the delicate skin, emphasizing the pulsing vein beneath.

As Whumpee's trembling body was held firmly in the Whumper's grasp, the vampire's fangs pierced their delicate skin.

A sharp, exquisite pain shot through Whumpee, followed by an intense sensation of pleasure that was impossible to resist.

Whumper's venomous saliva mixed with Whumpee's blood, igniting a euphoria that left them weak at the knees.

Whumper fed with a calculated rhythm, their lips pressed against the wound, their tongue dancing over the puncture marks, savoring every drop, and as the first drops of blood touched the their tongue, a shiver of pleasure coursed through their body.

Whumper's hand, cool and gentle, caressed Whumpee's cheek, guiding their face to the side to allow for better access to their throbbing vein.

The Vampire's tongue flicked over the wound, lapping up the crimson nectar that flowed from Whumpee's neck.

The taste was intoxicating, like the finest vintage wine, all while whumpee's heartbeat echoed in their ears, the rhythm of their life force lulling the Whumper into a hypnotic trance.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as Whumper fed, savoring every drop of precious life essence.

Whumpee's breaths grew shallow, and their vision blurred, the world around them fading into obscurity.

Finally, once Whumpee's body had grown frail and their breaths dangerously shallow, Whumper withdrew, their lips stained crimson.

They watched with a cruel satisfaction as Whumpee slumped forward, unconscious and utterly helpless.

With a predatory grace, Whumper gathered Whumpee's limp form into their arms their pulse had grown feeble, and their body had become a mere vessel, emptied of life.

Whumper's eyes glittered with triumph as they turned away from the moonlit alley, disappearing into the night with their newfound Blood Bag.

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 10 months

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a predatory creature who mimics the sound of their previous victim as to lure another (potential) victims in. so — as a group of the surviving characters hide from the creature — they are forced to listen to the sound of their dead friend, from the mouth of the creature, screaming in excruciating pain during their final moment when they were mauled to death by said creature.

the surviving characters know their friend is already dead, and that it’s the creature mimicking their friend’s voice, but it’s still extremely hard to hear how scared their friend was, and to not rush out of their hiding spot towards the direction in which the sound comes from (knowing it wasn’t going to be their friend but instead they’d be running right towards the creature) as the creature keeps on howling in their dead friend’s voice.

special thanks to Annihilation for the inspiration behind this juicy trope. literally my most favorite scene from the movie.

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the-three-whumpeteers · 2 months

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The whumpee had been captured and caged somewhere completely unfamiliar, by someone who they didn’t understand, and in an environment they were not accustomed to. The whumper made many mistakes as well- sure, the whumper “disciplined” the whumpee, but their attempt at care was completely wrong, and it just made the whumpee feel sick and afraid, they just wanted to go home.

#whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whumpee #aramis stabs someone #whump prompts #captivity whump #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman whump

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emcscared-whumps · 19 days

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Behold!!!! The piece that got delayed by my surprise visit to death prevention jail end of last year!

This is my submission to @thewhumpyprintingpress's ABCs of Whump zine!!! It's available for purchase, go check it out :)

I was so excited to participate, and it was such a pleasure :) This piece took a while, and it is right on the edge of my current capabilities as an artist, but it was incredibly fun and rewarding to work on, I'm very proud of how it turned out <3

Featured is my mer shifter boi Pete from my fav project Shifting Phases :) I love him very much and could not resist another oppourtunity to have a work featuring him published.

(I had to scrunch it significantly to get Tumblr to take it ^-^')

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species-whump-weekly · 6 months

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Welcome to Species Whump Weekly, a new event dedicated to whumping various nonhuman species.

This event is brought to you by Bram and Hart over at @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night & @vivisection-and-vampyrism

Here's masterlist of our events so far.

This event will run Sunday through Saturday every other week. Every other Saturday, we'll post a new species of the week and seven days worth of prompts to go with them.

Each day has multiple prompts, and you can include as many as them as you like. You don't have to do every single day, just what inspires you. This is a very casual event. Play fast and loose with the rules.

Art, writing, and gifsets, are all highly encouraged, along with moodboards, poetry, and other unusual mediums. As long as it fits the prompt, please knock yourself out.

We accept requests for certain species or prompts, and that sort of inspiration should go in our ask box. It's greatly appreciated.

When posting, please tag this blog @species-whump-weekly and use the tag [#species whump weekly] so we can find and reblog your creations.

Divider Source: Here

#Whump #Whump event #Species whump weekly #Nonhuman whump #Nonhuman whumpee #Whump intro #Whump blog #Whumpblr #Whump community #Whump ideas

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blackrosesandwhump · 10 months

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Starting a thing for those who like non-human whumpees:

Reblog with your favorite non-human whumpee trope!

#whump #whump tropes #nonhuman whump #nonhuman whumpees #inhuman whump #inhuman whumpee #whump game #whumpblr #reblog game #whump community #whump things

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ashintheairlikesnow · 1 month

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I Can't Cross O'er: An Interlude

CW: Captivity, child of whumper POV, blood, referenced whipping, magical whumpee, siren whump. For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 4: Monster! Monster!

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

Six years ago

A door shut, clicking into place, just down the hall. Carefully hidden inside one of the seven bedrooms in this wing of the house, Ford and his sister Nathalie waited, listening, as the man in the hallway took a deep breath. “By God,” The man muttered. “What a voice he has.”

Nathalie tried to peek around Ford's arm. “Is he-”

“Sssshhh.” Ford swatted at Nathalie without looking at her, and she swatted back.

“Like an angel…” The man continued, not realizing he had an audience - if currently a distracted one. “An absolute angel. The way he sings..."

Nathalie poked Ford right in his ticklish side with one finger, jabbing roughly. "Ford-"

"I said sssshh!"

"Don’t you dare tell me to shush, Guilford,” Nathalie hissed.

Ford looked at her, and whatever she saw on his face made the momentary triumph of mocking him with his hated full first name drain from hers. She laid a hand on his arm, then, awkwardly patting, whispering, “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, Ford, I didn't mean it-"

“Don’t ever call me his name,” Ford said, but his voice was weak. Like always since his mother died, he felt tears rise unbidden and had to fight them back below. “Please, please don’t.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Nathalie whispered. Her eyes were huge and sad in the light that filtered in through the gauzy curtains across the room. “I really didn’t. I’m sorry, Ford. You’re not like him at all. I promise you're not."

He found a smile for her, just to watch the way her shoulders, which had hunched up, relaxed again. “It’s… it’s all right.” There was another sound, and Ford turned back, trying to peek through a crack in the door they were hidden just behind again. He couldn’t quite see the man, but he could hear him still muttering to himself. Thankfully, the Lord Fellswooth spoke to himself loudly enough that he hadn’t overheard them and realized he was being spied on by two of Lord Wentworth’s children.

Or grandchildren.

Or... prisoners.

Whoever they really were to him.

Seconds passed, and Ford could see in his mind the way the tall, strikingly thin Lord Fellswooth must be patting down his shirt, checking for wrinkles or any detail out of place. He’d been a fussy one at supper earlier, the sort to surreptitiously check the tines of his fork over before taking a single bite, as if checking for a smudge or a bit of tarnish he might make a barbed comment about. He was probably running quick fingers through his hair to get the little curl of salt-and-pepper over his forehead just so - he’d done that over and over since he’d come to meet with Lord Wentworth, as if it were some sort of compulsion rather than simple vanity.

Ford’s teeth worried at his lower lip as he listened to Fellswooth take a deep breath, murmur it was only a business call, of course, Theresa, that’s all, as if he were rehearsing his lines for a play, before he turned to leave. The two children eased back and away so no hint of them might be seen as he went past them - Ford's eyebrows knitted in confusion at a spot of bright red he saw on the Lord's cheek, smeared like he'd rubbed open a wound. The Lord's steps were nearly soundless thanks to the plush gold-threaded rug that ran the length of the hall all the way to the grand staircase that would take him right out the front door.

The butler met him there.

Mr. Keller was chilly sometimes but Ford mostly found him kind. His voice filtered up the stairs as he let Lord Fellswooth know his horse was saddled and waiting for him just outside. Mr. Keller had been around forever, he was very old and soon to retire, Father- the man who made them call him Father, anyway - said. He’d made mistakes, sometimes… more often lately.

There had been some sort of trouble with Mr. Keller writing letters that made no sense, begging for rescue from employment, that had led to some distant relations coming to the door last month, worried for his health.

Father had assured them all was well, and after speaking to Mr. Keller over a few days, the cousins or whoever had gone away again. Mr. Keller had been... different, ever since, but still mostly kind to the children.

Ford’s father read all Mr. Keller’s letters now before he sent them, and he’d put out an advert and told his very important friends he was looking for a new butler, that Mr. Keller was ready to step down and have a well-earned rest.

If he didn't just get thrown in the pond with the monster, like Ford's real father had been.

Once Fellswooth was safely gone, Ford eased out into the hall, the well-oiled hinges moving in perfect silence as he swung open the door. Nathalie was on his heels, creeping just behind him. They made their silent way towards the door that the fussy Lord had just come out of.

Ford paused just a foot away and turned to look at his sister over his shoulder, putting a finger to his lips.

Nathalie nodded, solemnly. Like Ford, she still wore a black armband, the sign of mourning after their mother’s death the year before. At ten, her face was losing the child’s roundness and thinning out. She looked like their mother had, more every year, and sometimes it hurt Ford to look at her at all. It would be six more years before their father would want to start looking into marrying her off, which meant only four years until marriage might happen for Ford.

The thought terrified him.

Ford had become a part of his father’s grasping ambitions only a month after Mother died, when she could no longer protect her children from Lord Wentworth’s plans for his family. Ever since, he’d been subjected to endless lectures on business ventures he didn’t care about overseas, tutored for hours every day on how to convince other nobles to speak to his father about those business ventures, or selling land, or… whatever it was that Guilford Wentworth wanted from them. All those lessons, in the end, centered around learning how to lie - or how to bring the aristocrats and royalty to meet with his father and his father’s awful creature.

Alongside all that unwanted education had been a rise in the careless, constant violence that had already dogged him all his life. He was not good enough at the skills Lord Wentworth wanted him to learn. He did not lie so easily, he did not care about colonies and copper mines a thousand miles across the sea. And he paid for not caring with bruises like the ones he wore even now, always and only in places that his clothing might hide.

Nathalie, though, wore no bruises, and neither did the twins. He’d done what he could to protect them all the way his mother had once tried to protect him. If he were married, though, especially if he were married to someone with more money or land and he had to go live with her family, he couldn’t keep Guilford’s anger on him any longer.

It would turn on his sister, until she was found a husband - and then it would finally turn on the twins, who had never known violence and would have no one to keep them safe any longer

What if whoever was picked for his sister’s husband was cruel, too? What if his own wife turned out to be some terrible witch, like Guilford Wentworth, just with hair ribbons? He’d rather die than be married, but he knew enough about his father’s monster by now to know that it wouldn’t matter what he wanted, when the time came.

He’d want whatever he was told to want, once the monster sang its hideous song. He'd be a dutiful, loving husband, or he'd be a dutiful loving son, or he'd have his throat torn open and turn to bones in the bottom of the pond in the garden, just like his real father.

Ford closed his fingers slowly around the doorknob, turning it as quietly as he could before he gently pushed the door open so he and Nathalie could peek inside.

They had come to peek at the monster.

The awful thing looked handsome and harmless. It perched along the edge of a heavy mahogany desk, leaning against it and looking away, towards the window, one hand over its mouth. Jet-black hair fell wavy, as if it had only just dried after a swim in the ocean, over beautiful eyes and curled around its ears. Its hair was all mussed up, as if it’d been grabbed at and pulled on, but the creature didn’t seem to notice.

It looked, with the last of the sunset’s yellowed light shining on its warm brown skin, like a sort of perfectly sculptured mockery of a human man, the most beautiful one Ford had ever seen in his life. It was only a trick, of course - it was more of a demon.

Ford had seen its real face when it killed his real father, a mouth that opened too wide and was full of hideous sharp teeth.

It wore some sort of loose robe that fell off one shoulder. It was covered in embroidered flowers in white against the shining pale blue fabric and tied at the waist. Its arms were crossed in front of itself and it hunched over, just slightly. The markings like tattoos that began just under his jaw on one side disappeared into the neckline where it lay over the thing’s collarbone and then reappeared along one delicately formed wrist, running all the way into its palm and over its long, elegant fingers. One of its legs was marked, too. When Ford looked at the monster’s feet, he could see one was covered in the same markings all the way to the very end of its toes.

“It's done, for now,” The monster said to no one, its voice soft. It spoke like a melody, a rumbling bass that could just as easily soar to tenor. Ford had taken singing lessons, for a while. He was hopelessly rubbish at it.

The twins, though, were good. And the monster sang like heaven.

There was a pause.

“Done,” It repeated, dropping to a whisper. Its voice cracked and broke this time, rasping. There was a horrible sorrow and anger in the lines of its beautiful face. “For now." Its voice rasped, suddenly, went rough-edged like it was talking around something blocking its throat. "Until the next, and the next, and the next…”

When it looked to the window, towards the sunset, the light glimmered along trails of shimmering wetness that ran down its cheek. Its body shook, and it dropped its head into its hands, letting out a wretched, shuddering sob.

He’d seen this thing murder his real father, sing him into the pond in the garden and then rip out his throat and stain the water red while Ford had watched, unseen, his own hands clamped tight over his mouth beneath his wide, nearly bulging eyes. He had been screaming, desperately muffling the sound, until he’d run for his mother, and discovered that she… she wasn’t the same either, anymore.

She hadn't died for years after, but really she had been mostly dead already, as soon as his real father was.

Once the monster sang to you, he took whatever he wanted of you away, and only left what was useful for the family. Which just meant useful for Lord Wentworth, which Ford’s real father hadn't been any longer.

The monster had taken from Ford’s mother even the memory of his true father. No one had cared enough to bother to take it from Ford, or Nathalie. No one listened when they insisted their father was someone else, someone no one in the house even knew had ever existed any longer. The twins had only been babies, and they wouldn’t remember anyway.

Weeping or not, it wasn’t a person, and Ford steeled himself against how much it hurt to watch the thing cry. It might weep like a man, and look like one, but Ford had seen it kill on command.

The creature turned away toward the window, its back now to the children spying on it from the doorway. Ford and Nathalie both inhaled sharply as the robe it wore slipped a little, dipping low enough to show that it was bleeding.

Ford felt something cold and shivery-sick dip in his stomach as he saw stripes of torn-open skin smeared in a horrible too-bright red just above its shoulder blades and down its back, disappearing beneath the shining black satin, only to still show through in spots here and there that seemed to stick to its skin. The blue robe turned the blood soaking through it purple, a sickly color that made Ford think he might be sick all over the floor.

There was-

There was so much blood.

Ford’s throat suddenly felt like it might close all on its own, and he jerked in a hissed breath. He felt sick just looking at it, too bright and too red. His stomach flipped and twisted, his heart racing its way up his throat as if it might come flying out his mouth.

There was blood on the floor, spattered on the wall by the window. It looked like a murder had been done, and yet Lord Fellswooth and the monster had been alone, and only the monster wore wounds.

What had Lord Fellswooth done to it?

Fellswooth had lifted his upper lip in a sneer just looking at how dusty Ford had been when he’d returned from the afternoon ride on his favorite horse. He’d run fingers over the washbasin stand checking for specks of dust Mr. Keller and the other servants might have missed. He’d shuddered just walking in the front door when the stable boy’s wolfhound had tried to lick at his palm.

What sort of man who could be so fussy as all that could tear the monster’s back to shreds and simply leave his blood running down his body to drip to the floor as he stood by the window?

How badly must all those wounds hurt?

Not that Ford cared, or anything. It was a murderous monster creature his false father used to enthrall and get what he wanted out of everyone who came near him. It wasn’t even human, it spent almost all its time in water hiding under the surface, coming out only when Lord Wentworth summoned it. Ford didn’t care about it at all.

But…

But that didn’t mean he thought it should bleed like that.

Even monstrous animals were only animals, after all, and this might be a creature of murder but did it need to suffer for that? For someone else's fun?

The monster, standing before the window staring out at the setting sun, began to sing to itself. Unlike the song they’d heard before when it was alone with Lord Fellswooth, this song was neither strident nor even very loud - it was a private song, one it sang only for itself. Its perfect voice did not swell or even rise much. Instead, each note seemed like a sidestep to the last, a winding staircase of melody that it wrapped around itself like a kind of blanket.

Ford caught his breath, listening. He could almost hear where a harmony should be, if there had been more of those… things… singing at once. Maybe this had been a song it sang with its own family, if it had had one.

Did monsters have mothers, like men did? They must. Everything living had a mother at one point or another, didn’t it?

The song was his pain, Ford realized. Winding and circling itself, neverending, a river even monsters would drown in when they never found shore. It was the creature's way of crying, beyond human tears. It wept, by the window, in a way that stole Ford's breath and made him want to weep alongside it.

“He’s so pretty,” Nathalie breathed, just beside him, her own wide eyes shining with tears. Her voice was too loud but his own felt too caught in his throat to shush her again. “He’s so pretty, Ford, isn’t he?”

The monster’s voice cut off all at once.

It spun around to see the two children who had - without realizing it - leaned further and slid the door a little more open. Ford’s heart dropped to his knees as those fathomless dark eyes locked on his. He and Nathalie both gasped as they fell under the thing's direct regard.

“Oh, no,” He whispered. "Nathalie-"

The monster opened its mouth in a snarl as it pulled its robe so tightly around itself nearly none of its skin could be seen any longer. Ford and Nathalie both froze at the sight of row after row of razor-sharp pointed teeth as it bared them.

“Go!” It snapped, in a voice that was not human, that spoke the human tongue in a roar and with a mouth not made for it. “Go away from me! Now!"

Ford's heart was in his throat "We're-... w-we're sorry-"

"Fear the monster your father keeps more than death itself and get away from me!”

The last was a shrieking command, not a song but a singular deafening note. Ford felt himself turning before he could even breathe. The command took effortless hold and he grabbed Nathalie's hand.

Get away from me.

The children could never have done anything but obey.

They fled shouting their fear of the monster, half-falling down the stairs and racing outside until Mr. Keller, who had seen Fellswooth off, caught them in his arms. Both of them burst into tears, there, while the stableboy and the groomsman stared surreptitiously in confusion. Mr. Keller held them, and shushed them, and finally took them to the stables in the hopes that he could calm their tears before Lord Wentworth overheard.

Inside, Guilford Wentworth’s monster sagged and then sank to the floor, his knees simply giving way until they touched the rug beneath him. He bent over until his forehead brushed the fibrous cloth, and he wept again.

This time, he wept in silence.

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee@angelsproject

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redd956 · 8 months

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Whump Prompt List: Bioluminescence

A glowing whumpee losing their vibrant sheen as they weaken, until only a dim flickering light emits from them, barely illuminating their cold dark environment

Whumper glowing with satisfaction. Whumpee scooting back from them in fear as a vibrant tint of light passes over them, whumper approaching with a fabulously malicious idea

Bioluminescent whumpee attempting to run from their enemy, only for their own glow to give them away

Caretaker not knowing a whumpee was bioluminescent, since the light of their health was long gone. Slowly overtime whumpee seems to be positively glowing (perhaps revealing they're nonhuman)

Glowing colorful scars either due to whumpee's anatomy or whumper's magic. Whumpee has tried to hide them, but some nights, when the pain returns at its worst, it can be seen through their clothing

Blood that is bioluminescent only after leaving the body, like the old myth of human blood changing from purple/blue to red. The carnage is more than visible, even in the dark

Eyes that literally sparkle with life, growing more lifeless with each passing day, until eye contact meets the right worried soul

Back to bioluminescent scars (My beloved). Scars that still shine as bright as they were the day they were dealt. Scars finally dimming with age. A whumpee who now stands as a colorful painteresque canvas, splotched with the markings of a rainbow. Now they do their best to hide them under simply monochromatic clothes.

Watching agitated bioluminescent blood travel under whumpee's skin

#whump #whump prompt #whump prompt list #whump prompts #nonhuman whump #whump ideas #whump idea #whump scenarios #bioluminescence whump

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whitecoatwhump · 9 days

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Avian whumpee who belongs to a very social species of bird gets captured and separated from their flock. The unfamiliar environment they find themselves in is unnerving enough, but it's nothing compared to the whumpee trying to call for their family and only hearing their own voice echoing back

Self harm mention under the cut

A specific image that keeps popping into my head is the whumpee trying to deal with the stress by ripping their feathers out

#whump prompt #whump #nonhuman whumpee #emotional whump #nonhuman whump #avian whumpee #winged whumpee

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generic-whumper · 9 months

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I cannot write a “normal” whump story for the life of me. Every attempt has failed so far. (Yet I can read and enjoy human whump perfectly fine?)

Either my characters (whumpees, whumpers, and caretakers) are aliens/ non-human; or the whumpee is going to be a human with supernatural abilities because super-powered whumpees are apparently my weakness? There’s just something extra spicy about adding some mystical, magical, paranormal, and supernatural elements to a story that really scratches an ever-present itch in my brain.

Bonus points for supernatural elements and powers being allegories or symbols for the human experience, mental illness, or man-made issues like society and culture.

Please share your favorite non-human whump stories, I want to read them all!

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obsessedwithegos · 5 months

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A shot cervitaur Logan requested by @emmettverse when I opened requests in my discord server :3 Version without effects is under the cut!

Logan is owned by @emmettverse You can join my whump based discord server here! :3 (I tend to share cat pics in gen chat too >:3c)

general: @emmettverse @blackberry-bloody

#owe art #my art #whump #whump tag #whump art #emmettverse #taur whump #centaur whump #cervitaur whump #logan tag others #deer in headlights #<bc that was part of the prompt/request :3 #ask to tag #nonhuman whump #nonhuman whumpee

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 9 months

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whumpee is cursed, so every night, they turn into a nonhuman creature, a beast, and can only transform back to their human self once the sun rises. one night, they finally are caught by the villagers who have been trying to hunt them down for weeks (because while in their monstrous form, whumpee has to hunt, and therefore a lot of the villagers’ livestocks were killed and eaten; it’s something whumpee has no control of). whumpee is wounded and bleeding from the villagers’ pitchforks and whatnot. but as a last effort to save their own life, they’re somehow able to break free from the cage and run away.

but whumpee needs a shelter to hide. they don’t know where they are, but their legs give out when they reach caretaker’s house; caretaker, one of the very few people in the village who refuse to join in on their community’s witch hunt against whumpee, because violence — no matter who it’s against — isn’t something caretaker stands for.

caretaker hears noises outside their house, and is shocked to see whumpee, still as a four legged beast, pass out on their front porch. and caretaker knows the two options available for them are (a.) call the rest of the villagers to let them know the beast is here, and (b.) do the opposite and save the beast from the villagers.

the right thing for caretaker to do is option A, caretaker knows that, but, looking at the beast lying unconscious on the muddy ground in front of their feet, bleeding and injured, caretaker doesn’t have it in their heart to send whumpee to their death.

so caretaker drags whumpee inside their house so they can help nurse them back to health, having no idea that whumpee — the beast — is in fact the human they’ve been harboring romantic feelings for for a while.

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the-three-whumpeteers · 5 months

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The whumper was a collector of many things, and the whumpee just happened to catch their eye. The whumper capturing the whumpee wasn’t just a show of power, it also allowed the whumpee to be displayed like a decoration, stuck in a golden cage, far from where they used to live, with no friendly face to speak to.

#whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whumpee #aramis stabs someone #whump prompts #whumper #captivity whump #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman whump

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emcscared-whumps · 3 months

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A lovely little scene from Shifting Phases i drew for a challenge over on WLC last year :) (awh, he hasn't tried to escape yet, how cute <3) I'm usually slow at drawing, but I had my phone, some spare time, and a whole lot of inspiration for the prompts "water" and "bloody surface" lol

How did I not post actual whump art of mine on the tungle?? Who knows lol, not me

Pete Spencer's character profile is [Here]

#emc's art #whump art #mer whump #mer whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #nonhuman whump #restraint whump #whump #whumpblr #Pete Spencer

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species-whump-weekly · 5 months

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Vampire Week

Creatures from Slavic mythology, raised from the dead to feed on the blood of the living. The myths soon spread to the American colonies, and later made a strong foothold in Hollywood. Writers of novels and television changed them beyond most recognition, making them into a truly versatile species.

Sunday: Silver piercings - Garlic - "Look, I never killed anyone if that's what you're implying."

Monday: Sunshine - Hawthorn Stake - "Allergic to a little sunshine, leech?"

Tuesday: Wild Roses - Defanging - "We need to keep it muzzled so it won't tear our throats out."

Wednesday: Hallowed Ground - Force Feeding - "Being forsaken by God was hard enough. I couldn't walk in the church I've attended my whole life. But then I realized my family wouldn't even look at me."

Thursday: Buried Alive - Outlived Family - "Not growing old was fun at first, but then everyone around me started dying."

Friday: Starvation - Botched Shapeshifting - "Not all vampires get to be rich, you know? Some of us are poor and starving. Just like humans."

Saturday: Silver Restraints - Consumption - "Legend blamed the spread of tuberculosis on vampires. Now we know better."

Have fun ♡♡♡

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#Species whump weekly #Whump #Nonhuman whump #Vampire whump #Vampire whumpee #Whump prompts #Whump event #Whumpblr

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