The Whumpee Was Arrogant And Far Too Confident For Their Own Good, Believing Themselves To Be Practically

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.

give me whumpees with scars they can't hide. Not by a scarf, long sleeves, or even a mask. Give me whumpees whose hair has gone white with stress, give me whumpees whose hands shake and are always unsteady, give me whumpees with amputated limbs and scars that split their features. Uncomfortable scars. They aren't aesthetic they aren't pretty they just are. And then let them deal with hushed "oh god"s and the stares and the whispered conversations behind their backs. Let the recovery break them in ways not even the torture could.

The whumpee didn’t know how much longer they could endure- for now they still had the spirit to snap at the whumper, sometimes even injuring them- but the torture wouldn’t stop, and the whumper wasn’t deterred, so the idea of just giving up became more and more enticing. Following the rules would mean more food, less punishment, but the whumpee couldn’t bring themselves to do it.

Whumpees who are not innocent.

Whumpees who have done Very Bad Shit.

Whumpees who know they have done Very Bad Shit.

Whumpees who don't feel guilty for (most of) it. They were doing what they could to survive.

Whumpees who don't want to be told it wasn't their fault. They need to believe they made choices. They need to believe they had some kind of agency.

Whumpees who'd rather be seen as a monster than a victim.

I recently injured my right hand, which is my dominant hand, which made the fact that the hand was basically unusable for a few days particularly annoying. The injury was a small but deep puncture wound in the flesh of my palm between my thumb and pointer finger. It meant I couldn't move my thumb at all, and my overall grip strength was completely shot.

Naturally, I have whumpy thoughts about this.

POTENTIAL CAUSES:

Whumpee was chained up for so long that when he is freed, he can no longer feel that hand for hours

Nerve damage from any number of things

Whumpee's palm was nailed to a wooden board as her punishment

Whumpee degloved his hand in an escape attempt

Now here's the thing. Going from having an able hand to having a pained and unusable hand all of a sudden is not easy. (My grandfather, who taught himself to be ambidextrous a few years ago because he was retired and bored, would disagree. But he's a special case.) Not only are you down a hand, but you have to be really careful with the injured hand so you don't do further damage. Meanwhile, your nondominant hand is a LOT weaker than your dominant one, so it's struggling.

You'd also be surprised at the number of things that are suddenly extremely difficult to do. So, whumpy things....

Caretaker helping Whumpee shower, change clothes, fasten buttons, open and close medicine bottles, affix bandages, etc

This makes Whumpee feel any combination of embarrassed, safe, scared of the dependence, continuously surprised at the gentle treatment, resentful, etc

Whumpee tripping and automatically splaying her hands out to catch herself, then nearly choking trying to bite back a scream of pain so that she doesn't alarm caretaker

Whumper giving Whumpee extra punishments when Whumpee isn't able to do his usual tasks as well

Whumper tossing a pet Whumpee out to the streets because he's no longer as useful

Whumpee trying to do something with their non dominant hand and accidentally injuring themselves in the process

...I feel like I should do a "a body part a day" thing where I talk about various whumpy injuries

Whump prompts I can’t get enough of:

1. The shifty and embarrassed look in a stoic leader’s eyes as they finally are forced to reveal an injury to their friends, reluctantly allowing themselves to be treated for the first time. The awkwardness as they strip, and/or lay down to be examined. The subtle fighting to maintain some choice or control ( would rather sit up, “I can do that myself thanks”) and so on.

2. The limp warmth of a Whumpee’s sleeping body as they are treated in the middle of the night. The change in their breathing as the covers are gently pulled back. The clumsiness of their movements as they flit in and out of sleep, sudden gasps or flinching as their wounds are tended. The caretaker’s whispers of comfort, hushing them back to sleep.

3. Whumpee lashing out in sudden rage at some petty action of another, before collapsing and breaking down in sobs. Everyone standing around awkwardly in shock, before caretaker goes in to grab whumpee in a crushing embrace, trying to calm their shaking.

4. Stoic whumpee being humiliated by Whumper. Orders like: ‘strip’, ‘face the wall’, ‘kneel’, ‘down on your hands and knees’, etc etc.

5. Slightly delusional whumpee being tied/held down for some potentially lifesaving procedure and quietly begging caretaker to stop, please please stop. Then more loudly, desperately, until they are crying out and fighting in a panic. Caretaker meanwhile is (1)staring at them in stoic silence while their heart is wrung with pity, or (2) they are quietly reassuring them, telling them it’s going to be alright.

Feel free to use as you like.

Caretaker and Oldest Teammate keep trying to figure Whumpee out. Their odd habits, their strange attitude, their secrecy. The two of them decide to make a bet: whoever figures out Whumpee's "deal" first has to buy the other dinner.

A few weeks later, Caretaker approaches Oldest.

"Our bet about Whumpee's mystery? It's off."

"Oh really? Why?" Oldest asks.

"I figured out their deal. And it's... really personal, I can't tell you."

Oldest smiles, a twinkle in their eye. They had known Caretaker would be able to get through to Whumpee - that had been their plan all along.

"I'll buy you dinner anyway."

The whumper paraded their captive around to anyone willing to see them- they were proud of how well they had managed to break the whumpee after all. The whumpee didn’t snap anymore, they wouldn’t do anything unless they were told to- it was all because of the whumper’s work, and it was evident.

The whumpee refused to acknowledge what had happened to them, forcing a smile on their face and ignoring anyone what brought up what had happened to them. Sometimes the whumpee would even be aggressive towards anyone that tried to comfort them- they didn’t want to be reminded, and they wanted to go back to who they were before.

Cat art- pencil on paper

Time taken: ~4 hours