Conflict Whump Challenge

A whump challenge based on this comic by Grant Snider. The prompts are the conflicts listed in the comic!

Here are some ideas to get you started, but you can do anything the prompts from the comic inspire in you--these are only suggestions!

In this context, "man" is gender-neutral (as in "mankind") and the whumpee can be any gender.

The challenge is bingo-style: create three pieces to fill any one row, column, or diagonal arrangement to complete the challenge! If you want to go the extra mile, you could even go for filling all nine prompts.

There is no time limit on this challenge, it can be completed at any time at your own pace.

Tag your work #conflictwhumpchallenge or #conflict whump challenge so others can find it!

Whump commission for theillustriousshadow of their good bean Emmett, kidnapped and a little roughed up by a gang while he was trying to save his friend. ( It's okay his boyfriend saves him in the end! c: )

"i'm not meant for happily ever after"

exhaustion whump

literally the best thing ever

A enemy soldier trying to fight back but too weak and hurt to do anything but squirm or flinch as they are captured. Roughly with carelessness for their useless struggles or gently understanding that they can’t do any harm in this state.

hanging from ropes. When they are released they flop into the ground, unable to support themselves.

a defiant whumpee looking up with fear and exhaustion. Just weakly glaring and twitching away from whumpers hands.

being pinned to the ground by someone much stronger and more skilled than them. Giving up and stopping struggling because what’s the point? It’s not like they can win this fight.

A soldier dragging themselves to their feet. Bone tired and shaking but too stubborn to give up.

Whumpee is a LIAR

Whumpee never complained or said he was sick about all the injuries he received.

Whumpee just smiles and says he's fine; there's nothing to worry about.

"Are you kidding me? It's just a scratch; don't worry about me, okay?" Whumpee would always say that sentence; even Caretaker had memorized it.

However, when Whumpee fell asleep, Caretaker could see the wrinkles on Whumpee's forehead, or his weak groans, or his uncomfortable movements.

Caretaker was only able to remain silent and try to understand Whumpee, who didn't want to worry the team, but at least Caretaker hoped that Whumpee could lean on her a little.

Yeah, Whumpee is a liar.

Whumptober #17

Trope of the day: “Leave me alone.”

_

Pulling the covers higher, whumpee tries to hide from the light that shines into their room. Every bit of light, every little noise just ends in sensory overload as they try to keep their eyes closed.

Sleep hasn't found them in so many days now, sheer exhaustion the only thing that knocks them out every few days and only for a few hours.

Their head hurts, a dull throb behind their eyes that just won't go away. Despite trying to drink enough, whumpee cannot make it stop, sometimes it just gets worse when they try to leave the bed.

When they hear someone open the door, whumpee doesn't move. “Leave me alone.” Their voice is nothing more than a croak, throat even hurting when the words leave their dry lips.

The mattress gets dented a bit when caretaker lies down next to them, pulling whumpee into an embrace the other can't even struggle against because their body is too weak.

“Leave me alone,” they repeat against caretaker's chest, whose scent and warmth makes whumpee relax in an instant. Caretaker softly grunts and strokes whumpee's back.

Sighing, whumpee snuggles closer and enjoys the comfort they didn't even have to ask for. They wouldn't even know how, but caretaker has found their ways ...

Whump Snippet Saturday #16

Whumpee flinches as soon as the hand lands on his shoulder, a firm and confident grasp. “You did good work there, kid,” team leader proclaims and doesn’t realise how the younger man ducks his head and tenses up. A nod is all he manages and he breathes out shakily as soon as the hand leaves his shoulder, the warmth still lingering on that spot.

He doesn’t realise how caretaker eyes him from across the room, his thoughts spinning. Whumpee can’t help but react like this, no matter how ashamed he is of it. Team leader was too close, far too close for his comfort. If he is too close, that means he is close enough for attacking him. He’s too close for … for other things.

But at the same time … the warmth he still feels speaks volumes. Because at the same fucking time, whumpee wants to feel that warmth.

When the meeting is finally over, caretaker approaches him. “Why did you flinch?”, he asks and cocks an eyebrow. “Did that hurt?” Whumpee feels himself tense up again, ducking his head to avoid any form of eye contact. The young man manages to shake his head ‘no’, screwing his eyes shut when he sees caretaker raising his hand, only to feel it on the same spot as before.

“Take your time, kid. Just get used to it. I won’t hurt you, just as no-one else will do in here,” caretaker reassures, softly stroking his thumb over his shoulder. Whumpee manages to open his eyes, swallowing hard and allowing himself to look up at caretaker, who smiles at him.

“Take your time.”

Whump Snippet Saturday #12

"You gotta stay strong, whumpee," caretaker calls over the wind as they carry them further and further through the snow on their back. The storm surprised them, neither of them was prepared for this weather.

But with whumpee's injury, it's even harder to make their way back to their base. Caretaker was barely able to stop the bleeding, now they can't even see what's before them.

"Leave me," whumpee mumbles with that little strength they have left. "At least you have to get out of here."

Caretaker grits their teeth. "The fuck I'm gonna leave you out here. Save your strength, whumpee. I'm gonna get us out of here."

Whump Snippet Saturday #5

Whumpee takes a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, I got this," they mutter and take one step after the other, still trying to put pressure on their stab wound. Of course his attacker had to pull out the knife again, otherwise it would have been too easy for them. It takes them some strength to not stumble, but Whumpee manages to get out of the building, leaving a path of red behind them.

Their knees get weaker and weaker.

They can hear someone shouting their name, getting closer and closer.

With a grunt, Whumpee collapses into someone's arms, not knowing who it is ... They pass out before they manage to catch a glimpse.

AHHH :D

[05.06.2022] Make a squish character : template

Not normally a fan of bad caretakers BUT--

Imagine a caretaker who just loves the attention they get for it. They get to be the star of the show, rescuing whumpee and nursing them back to health. They're a hero, always saving this poor soul who seems to be caught up in something over their head.

Of course it was organic the first few times, with Caretaker actually saving Whumpee, but once Caretaker started getting high on the attention and praise, things suspiciously got a lot easier for Whumper.

Keys to Whumpee's house showed start showing up in the mail. Then it's times and places to best kidnap Whumpee listed out. Eventually Whumper just starts getting fat wads of cash and a "to do" list from their mysterious benefactor.

Whumper knows who it is of course, no doubt, but Caretaker is still a little surprised when they show up in their home, letting themselves in through an unlocked window.

"I ain't doing it." Whumper states, spitting their words out as they drop Caretaker's cash on the ground, shaking their head. "Look, I know I'm a monster. But... you want me to do THAT to them? No. Go to hell. I'm fucking done."

CW: Kidnapping, stalking

Did someone forget to turn off the car light again?

Whumpee was confident it wasn't them this time. None of their friends used their car, and they lived alone too. Their anxiety had grown worse over time, the fear of constantly losing something. Lock the door, turn off the sink. Are there still some groceries missing?

It wasn't just at home; Whumpee never felt safe at work. Every person was suspicious. Someone must've had an ulterior motive. They had never felt this way, but the creeping feeling of being watched had grown over them like ice over a lake.

Their mind was left exhausted, tracking how many spoons were in the kitchen or where they last left their sticky notes. It was just small things that didn't add up. The doctor never said any signs of memory loss were present so that they could continue their day. That they shouldn't overthink it, they were careless, forgetful, and maybe even a bit clumsy.

Did someone forget to turn off the car light again?

Whumpee struggled to keep their eyes open. There was heat surrounding them. Fire? In their car?

It was so bright.

Whumpee fought the suffocating black smoke bellowing up to their face and down their lungs. They heaved and coughed out the remnants of whatever had been locked in their throat. They couldn't breathe— tears blocked their vision; where were their legs? Their arms?

The seatbelt. They needed to take it off.

It's so hot.

Whumpee's face turned to meet the shattered window next to them. There was a dark silhouette standing. Watching.

They watched as a hand reached in and grabbed them firmly from the car. It was a person much larger than them, and that sudden dread returned to Whumpee's consciousness despite being rescued. Their face fell against their body as they felt themselves carried off into the cold night.

Everything hurt, yet their head kept sending them signals to run. Sprint, get as far away as possible from this person.

Whumpee sensed their heart beat rapidly; it hurt to breathe, but it hurt more not to escape from the shadow's tight grasp. They stared at each other; the mysterious figure turned down at them with a dark smile tracing their lips, "Relax, dear, you're safe now."

~~~ MASTERLIST

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: whipping, blood, punishments, restraints, non-con drugging, non-con touching (not sexual), partial nudity (not sexual), intimate whumper

–

He asked him to take the jacket off first.

That seemed to be one of the hardest aspects of it all; Leo had gripped the edges of the piece of fabric so tightly, he felt like his knuckles were going to split. He had to stop himself from shaking his head, instead lowering it and mumbling quietly under his breath.

“Please...” He whispered, wincing when Roy shifted onto his feet. He resisted the urge to look up, because otherwise the mercenary would have been towering over him.

“Take it off,” he ordered, his eyes narrowing. “Or I’m going to prolong this, and I know you don’t want that.”

Leo held onto it tighter.

The jacket hadn’t been taken away from him once, it was his only source of comfort, and he despised the way it was being ripped away from him. He felt small when he finally peeled it off his body, and his skin tingled unpleasantly when Roy took it effortlessly from him.

He tried to resist the urge to cry, because that would be pathetic, wouldn’t it? Crying over something that wasn’t even his.

The mercenary draped it over the chair, and he smiled down at Leo’s trembling form fondly.

“Shirt next,” he mused, feet moving towards the tools. The secretary’s face paled, forcing his eyes to follow him. Thoughts of the ground swallowing him up seemed like a very good idea right now, especially when he watched the mercenary take the whip between his fingers, unravelling it.

It wasn’t as long as some Leo had seen, but that wasn’t what he was focusing on.

He gripped the bottom of his shirt, his eyes welling with burning hot tears.

“No, please,” he begged, shaking his head frantically. “Please.”

Roy raised a brow. “Any little noise you make, and I’ll add another five lashes.”

Leo’s throat closed up, and he felt the tears start streaming down his face once more. His breathing picked up in panic, willing to do just about anything to keep that whip away from his skin.

“No,” he sobbed, his voice breaking. “No, no, no. Please, please Roy, don’t...”

“Okay. An extra five.”

Leo heaved on a choked gasp. “Please!”

“That’s an extra ten.”

The secretary slapped a hand over his mouth, hunched over to try and stop the stone cold dread from punching into his stomach violently. His sobs clogged in his throat, desperately shaking his head. Roy wound the whip between his fingers, slotting it carefully on the side of his belt.

“Every second you don’t do as I’ve told, that number is just going to increase,” the man hummed threateningly, and Leo’s heart thumped loudly in his head. He forced his eyes open, beyond blurry through the tears, trying to find the strength to remove the hand from his mouth.

His fingers were numb as he clenched the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He heard Roy stepping towards him, and bit down on his tongue to stop himself from whimpering when he jerked him onto his feet.

He staggered towards the back wall, and he tried to let his mind wander aimlessly as he was forced back down to his knees. He stared numbly at a spot of flecking paint, the tears still steadily tumbling down his cheeks.

Leo felt the cold bite of metal clamping his wrists together, and he tilted his head back to watch Roy attack the chain to the ceiling. It stretched his arms uncomfortably over his head, and he could already feel the tense pull in his shoulder blades.

His eyes stared up at Roy, silently pleading, but the man only smiled down at him in amusement.

“Fifteen,” he spoke, untangling the whip after pulling it from his belt. The tip trailed along the ground, but Leo couldn’t crane his head round in the awkward position. “Plus, the extra ten.”

Leo shuddered in terror, his fingers winding around the chains for some sort of stability. He was too afraid to move, his spine sitting as straight as he could get it. His breath hitched as he waited for the inevitable blow, screwing his eyes shut.

The first one landed with a harsh crack, and Leo jerked violently. The pain came quickly afterwards, spreading through his back like wildfire. The sting of the second one was much worse, and it was then Leo realised what he was really in for.

By the third, he was already crying.

The pain cracked along his back like agony, and he was sure he could feel warm blood sliding down his spine, shivers wracking through his body.

It only took two more until he was screaming at each sharp impact, his back arching when the whip licked at his skin. His throat burned. Leo could hardly think, every long pause between each strike making him crazy with sickening anticipation. He could feel his fingers going numb, the cuffs digging into his wrists and rubbing the skin raw.

Black dots scattered along his vision, another lash making him jerk.

“Stop!” He screamed, his chest tightening as he dissolved into harder sobs. “Please!”

Roy didn’t say anything, and he was only rewarded with two lashes consecutively after one another. The agony was hot and bright, and Leo’s mind went numb, his head lolling forward.

A strained moan escaped his lips when a hand gripped his jaw, the clammy sweat along his skin glistening under the light. Roy slapped his cheek, eyeing him up.

“Wake yourself up, or we’re starting over,” he snapped. Leo tripped over slurred words, simply crumbling into more pained sobs. Somehow, the rest was like a fire unlike the others. He’d screamed until his throat had gone numb, and his lungs had stuttered to a stop.

He felt like he could only babble incoherently under his breath, slick blood running down his arms and slipping down his back. His head was full of static, buzzing like fire ants in his brain. He could barely comprehend Roy unclamping the chains. The moment he fell into his arms, he started sobbing again.

He didn’t care if they were the arms of the person that had done this; Leo was exhausted, shaking from the agony, and he wanted this all to end. He needed something to hide away in, to feel like he could get away from it all.

He pressed his head into his chest, his fingers digging weakly into the fabric of his shirt. He felt Roy place a hand on the back of his head, stroking gently through the damp hair. He whimpered, the agony splitting through his back like fire.

It was travelling to his head, rocking his skull until he felt like he could barely think.

“There, there,” Roy purred softly, holding him carefully, and so softly that the secretary just melted into him like butter. “It’s over now. You’re okay. You did so well.”

Leo pushed himself closer, his arms clumsily clutching at his shoulders. Each little movement caused his back to flare up, and he let out a painful moan.

“It hurts,” he sobbed, his tongue like cotton. “I-It...s’not...”

The mercenary shushed him. He was holding him so gently, so protectively, that Leo didn’t have the willpower to pull away. He cried as the man shifted, gently tapping his temple.

“Look, lion,” he whispered softly, gently stroking his face. “Look at that.”

Leo obediently craned his head to the side, squinting through his exhausted, blurry vision. He was only rewarded by a sharp pinch on the other side of his neck, and his head slumped forward against the mercenary’s shoulder.

“There’s a good boy,” Roy drawled, gently hefting him off the ground. “There you go.”

tag list — @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world

To the Victor the Spoils—Part One

The Throne

Choose Your Own Adventure / Interactive Whump Series

Masterlist

Cw: capture, blood, referenced abuse/beatings, royal whumper/whumpee, restraints, manhandling

The cobblestone scrapes the underside of your bare feet as you are dragged forwards, either arm seized in an iron-gloved grip of a guard.

You try to find your footing, but you aren’t given a moment to stand, any slight vantage you manage to find is only lost a moment later when you are wrenched forwards. The guards don’t appear to be bothered in the slightest, their pace unfaltering as they drag you down a series of halls.

You are gagged and blindfolded. A knotted cloth shoved awkwardly in your mouth, knotted with strands of your hair at the base of your skull, the fabric turning any attempts at speech to incomprehensible muffles. The blindfold, a long strip of dark silk pressed over your eyes, tied tightly enough for the back of your head where it rested to begin to ache. Even if you managed to get your feet beneath you, it wouldn’t do much—iron shackles with only a short chain between the two cuffs weighed heavily against your ankles. You wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the pace the guards set anyways.

You hear a loud slam of wood, before you are dragged over a threshold into a new room. The atmosphere feels instantly different, stale, damp dungeon air changed to a warm, light breeze. You stumble again as you are taken up a short set of stairs, and then down another hall.

You are exhausted and confused. Before this, you had spent hours locked away in a small cell, unable to move, see, or speak. The blindfold is damp with tears, your face scraped and smudged with dirt. Before you had been dumped in the dungeon, a different set of guards had searched and stripped you, leaving you in only an undershirt and trousers, both which were now dirty and spotted with blood. They hadn’t been particularly gentle while doing so, leaving you with a number of bruises blooming dark plum across your skin. The taste of copper hadn’t faded from your tongue yet, blood dried against your chin.

You hear the sound of another set of doors opening, gentler than the first, and you feel the stone beneath you change to a smooth carpet. You are brought forwards a few strides, before the blindfold is torn away from your head, with it ripping strands of your hair.

You blink, squinting against the sudden light of oil lamps.

You are in a large chamber, pillars framing the far walls. It is easily the same size as your courtyard back at the palace, high ceilings carved with intricate designs and laced with gold detailing. Men in armor like the sides of the room, standing tall and at attention. A long red runner leads straight down the middle of the room, to a section of platform raised a foot or so off the ground. On top of that platform lay a throne, deep satin curtains and a high-arching back that stretched as if reaching for the sky. A servant stood just behind the throne, a silver platter balanced in their arms with a single bottle of rich wine.

In the throne, a man sat, and though his posture was relaxed, a sense of authority radiated from his very being—not just from his royal robes or the crown that sat purposefully on his head. He had one ankle crossed over his opposite knee, leaning back in the throne that was twice his height sitting, yet somehow seemed perfectly sized to him. An elbow rested lazily against the armrest of the chair which he leaned on, his other hand holding a crystal glass filled a quarters way with wine as deep as blood.

His eyes were on you, but it didn’t feel as if he was looking at you as opposed to through you, like you were nothing worth more than a moment of regard. He took a sip from the glass before placing it on the tray the servant held, uncrossing his legs and leaning forwards as he did so.

“Remove the gag.” He ordered the guards restraining you, and the one to your left released your arm, his hands raising to roughly tug the cloth from your mouth, reddened with blood and saliva, he let it fall to hang around your neck. With a flick of his wrist, the guards stepped back, leaving you standing alone in front of the platform.

His stare was piercing, and this time, you could tell he was looking directly at you. Taking in every detail, every strand of hair astray, every tear in your clothes, every scratch on your skin.

When he spoke, his voice was steady, resounding around the chamber like a strike to a drum.

“Kneel.”

(Future installments likely won’t be as long as this, I just wanted to start off on a good note!)

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Whumpee finally finds a chance to escape from Whumper without them noticing and makes a break for it. They make it pretty far… but just as they start to feel somewhat confident in their chances, strong arms wrap around them, pulling them back into someone’s embrace. Whumper chuckles softly into Whumpee’s ear, even as they curse and struggle to get away. “This is a fun game we’re playing… That’s all this is, isn’t it? A game?

“Surely you didn’t actually think you could get away from me.”

“You know, we’ve been fighting for nearly a year now and I still don’t know your name.” Hero panted as they dodged yet another blow.

Villain’s gaze flickered up from where they had focused their attack, fist still outstretched. “That’s really what you’re worried about right now?” They thrust forward again, this time catching Hero’s side with their boot. The air was knocked from their enemy who fell back against the wall.

“Is there a problem with being friendly?”

“There’s nothing friendly about us trying to kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t say kill-” Hero steadied themself just in time to dodge the weapon aimed towards their face. “More like…a passionate bout of combat between two powerful foes.”

“Your words, not mine.” Villain pulled back for another punch to which the Hero easily spun away from. They cursed under their breath, all while Hero couldn’t help but grin.

“So- your name?”

An exasperated sigh left the Villain, annoyance seeping from their form. However, as they leapt to the side something new emerged in their expression. Something sly.

Without warning, they dropped to the ground and swept their leg across the concrete. Hero didn’t have a chance to react as their feet were swept from under them. A wheeze was forced from their lungs as they collided hard with the ground, though the moment they tried to right themselves they found a blade at their throat.

It was Villain’s turn to grin now. “Tell you what,” they drawled, dragging their weapon ever so slightly across Hero’s throat. “I’ll tell you my name, if…”

“If?”

“If you can capture me.” They smiled devilishly before returning the blade to its sheath.

“Deal.” Hero didn’t even give it a second thought. They caught a flicker of a smirk on Villain’s lips before they stood.

Then they ran, disappearing into the shadows.

With a chuckle, Hero got to their feet, already counting the seconds. A five minute head start would only be fair, but after that-

This would be fun.

‘Behave’

CW: Stalking, kidnapped, bound, blindfolded, medical whump implied, morally grey whumper 

Part 2

Whumper needs whumpee. They need them alive, healthy and functioning. They watch them from a distance, making sure they don’t go too far, don’t get in too much trouble, but most importantly-

Don’t die. 

Whumpee has no idea they’re being watched. The stalkers are silent and reports are being sent to whumper weekly. -Until one day, there was an urgent report placed in. Day by day, the stalkers notice whumpee getting weaker, slower, their step dwindling and their complexion fading. 

Something was wrong. 

Whumper sighs and slams down the phone. “Bring them in.” They order, throwing their coat on and preparing their room. They hire the best doctors and send in the stalkers to catch their prey. When whumpee least expected it, they struck in the night and caught them in their sleep. 

They were fast, they were strong, but most importantly: they were gentle. They even tied them up and stuffed them into the car with grace. Whumpee however, was panicked. Kicking, shouting, cursing, biting, they braced themselves for a beating, but they were only firmly held down when they needed to be. 

The next thing they knew, they were blindfolded and strapped to a stretcher, being told that everything was going to be alright-

‘Now behave.’

Part 2