just your local beetle boy

hehe my secret little alt for whump and gore (if you know me irl no you don't!)

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Bad End

Masterlist (Masterlist part 2 where the AUs are stored)

content: vampire whumper, failed escape attempt, broken bones, begging, victim blaming, dehydration

takes place as an alternate ending to Out. you can search the first line of this au in Out to find the divergent point.

what would have happened if Kane had found Jim that night? let’s fine out.

-

A vampire emerged from the foliage. Jim’s heart practically stopped in his chest.

It was Kane.

“No.” he whispered, dread consuming him. He’d been so close! He was out!

“Oh, fucking yes.” Kane snapped, marching straight toward him.

Jim held his makeshift stake out defensively, pointing it at Kane. “Back off, or I’ll, I’ll-”

Before he could even blink, Kane moved lightning-fast, grabbing the stick right out of his hands and tossing it away. “You’ll what, you little shit?” His bright-red eyes shone with anger.

“Master,” Jim squeaked, his eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please.”

Keep reading

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Early Pickup

Masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker (or “nice whumper” since kane’s here involuntarily this time?), reluctant caretaker, semi-defiant whumpee, failed escape attempt, starvation, begging, captivity, muzzle

an AU inspired by this ask and ESPECIALLY these wonderfully whumpy asks!! in this AU, Jim learns Kane is being held captive by the hunters after Kane has only been there for a few weeks instead of five years. Kane is starving, tortured, scared, but not broken. have a series of little drabbles from this timeline.

-

This was the absolute rock bottom of Kane de Sang’s life.

With the hunter gone, he was alone with his human. Cuffed and muzzled, burnt and cut and bruised all over, half-naked, starving to the point of powerlessness. He was completely at the mercy of his own human. And the worst part was, he was terrified.

Keep reading

[whumpd-up-kicks]

OH. MY. GOD.

Do you guys know about Clip Cafe????

I just discovered it from a 'Powerful websites you should know! Part whatever' video

You can search for a phrase, and it will show you a catalogue of clips from movies and tv-shows where that line is said...

I'm currently browsing through the search "You're burning up"...............

[whumpd-up-kicks]

You are so, so welcome. I just absolutely had to share this resource with my fellow whump lovers, even though I rarely post things in here anymore.

If anyone wants ideas for search phrases, here are some that I've had fun with so far. Please feel very free to share/reblog with more phrases, I would personally love to get more inspiration!

'You're burning up'

'You're hurt'

'Keep pressure on that'

'Bite down on this'

'This is gonna sting'

'You're gonna be okay'/'You're gonna be allright'

'Where does it hurt?'

'You've been shot'

'You should see the other guy'

'I'm gonna pass out'

'I'm gonna be sick'/'I'm gonna throw up'

'How are you feeling?'

'My head hurts'

[prettyboysinpain]

Ooh there’s also a preview of the transcript beneath each video

By the way.. descriptive closed captioning counts too.. So you could type things like choking, whimpering, struggling, groaning, breathing shakily, etc..

Clip.Cafe

[i-love-me-a-lotta-whump]

To my international media friends, no this does not work for us. I have put some quotes in in Korean and nothing comes up. I promise I'm putting it in correctly as it is my second language but yeah it works pretty well for English language media!

[ravenatural]

been building a collection of posts from like minded individuals

[gottawhumptheblorbo]

“But hes just a lil guy!”

Me: Exactly 😈🔪🥰

[doumidas]

tenderness

[year-of-whump-tropes]

Favorite physical restraints to put a whumpee in?

Chains/shackles

(metal) handcuffs

Ropes

Leather straps

Padded cuffs

Straitjacket

Duct tape

Zipties

Other/non-conventional

Voting ended onJul 8, 2025

[luckyomelette]

free doodle for a mutual :D yaaaaaay roachs

[whumpsday]

Disorientation

@medwhumpmay Day 16

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: amnesia, recovery, comfort, whumpee x caretaker, older/middle aged whumpee

-

With no warning, all of a sudden, he was somewhere else.

The room was not a room in Whumper’s house, at least, not as far as he could tell. Whumpee whipped his head around frantically–it appeared to be a normal living room–tucking his legs in on the armchair he was sitting on as soon as he saw that he was not alone. A man who appeared to be in his late sixties sat on the couch adjacent to him.

“Hey,” the person on the couch said gently. He scooted closer, but did not touch. “You’re safe. I promise. I know you can’t remember, I know it’s scary and confusing, but you’re safe. You’re not there anymore.”

“Who are you? Where am I?” Whumpee asked, shrinking back. “Please.”

“I’m your friend, Caretaker. You’re in our apartment, out in the world. You haven’t been with Whumper in many years. You just lose your memory sometimes is all. Just breathe and it’ll be over soon. Do you want to hold my hand?” Caretaker held one out. “Sometimes you want to.”

Whumpee hesitated, then took it, his own shaking. There was no possible way what this man said could be true, but at least he seemed like a kind old man, and that was something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. “Don’t make me go back,” he begged.

“I won’t. You’re not going back,” Caretaker assured him, patient, a thumb stroking over his hand. “Whumper is dead and you are safe.” He glanced down at the coffee table. “Your tea is going to get cold if you don’t drink it.”

“My tea? That’s mine?” Whumpee took the mug with his free hand. “I’m allowed?”

“You’re allowed to do anything you want,” Caretaker agreed, “So long as you don’t hurt yourself. That’s the only time I’ll try to stop you. But you truly are safe.”

Whumpee took a sip. It tasted nice, with just the right amount of honey, like it really was something he’d picked out himself. “Can–can you tell me what happened?”

“Of course. What’s the last year you remember?” he asked. “I’ll catch you up.”

Whumpee squeezed his eyes closed. “1991.”

“It’s 2025 now. I know that might seem like a big jump, but don’t worry, your memories will come back slowly over the next few hours,” Caretaker assured him gently. “Back then, you suffered a lot of trauma and a little brain damage. In 1993, you stole a gun from him and shot him dead. Don’t worry, no one blamed you. Everyone thinks you’re pretty badass, actually.” He gave a lighthearted chuckle at that.

“2025?” Whumpee’s head spun. He looked down at his hand in Caretaker’s–it was just as wrinkled as the older man’s.

Not only that, but they wore matching wedding bands. Hah. Some “friend”.

“I’m…” He struggled to do the math in his head, but his mind was so foggy he couldn’t manage it.

“62,” Caretaker filled in. “I’m 67. Only got five years on you, kid. You don’t have to worry about that now. I know you feel 28. Must be nice!”

“It isn’t,” Whumpee whispered.

“I know. I know, sweetheart,” he said softly. “You’ve got something called transient global amnesia. It’s never nice. But it’ll be over soon, that’s what the ‘transient’ part means, and I’ll be here with you the whole time. You’re out forever. No one’s gonna hurt you. Just breathe.”

He did. Somehow, it made him feel a little bit better.

Maybe skipping to being 62 wasn’t so bad.

-

Oneshots taglist:

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@whuarri

@reborrowing

@paperprinxe

@what-if-i-just-did

Everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

@whumpy-wyrms

@all-hail-pigeons

@wolfeyedwitch

@starfields08000

@jumpywhumpywriter

@scoundrelwithboba

[whumpsday]

Hypothermia

@medwhumpmay Day 14

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: whumper-turned-whumpee, whumpee-turned-carewhumper, plane crash / stranded, cold whump / hypothermia / frostbite / environmental whump, gore, trapped under rubble, much-discussed and implied cannibalism, referenced human trafficking, forced to beg, reluctant caretaker, major character death

this is my favorite piece i've written for this event, and also the longest at 2000 words! please enjoy, i'm really proud of this one :) i'll prob come back and give the characters names after medwhump may is over.

-

It was surreal that it barely hurt–not more than it had before the crash, at least. When Whumpee thought of a plane crash, not that they’d ever much pictured the possibility until now, they’d imagined some sort of fiery explosion as soon as it hit the ground, decimating everything inside.

But by some miracle, huddled in their cage, they were fine. The cage had taken the damage for them, leaving them with just some more bruises than usual, and as they pushed experimentally on its mangled door, it fell right off the hinges.

They crawled out from the wreckage, quiet as a mouse, as if Whumper would catch them trying to escape again and punish them. Really, they knew even Whumper had more important things to worry about at this point.

Whumpee made their way up from the back of the plane where their cage had been fastened, scanning the wreckage for anything useful as they did. It was a small, private plane, the body of it comparable to a small lounge, and there wasn’t much to search.

They tore most of a fleece blanket out from where it was pinned and wrapped it around themself, the biting cold already seeping in as the metal yawned open, especially given the thin, sleeveless clothes Whumper dressed them in. They gathered all the food and drinks they could find in an empty wastebasket, scoring a couple steak knives as well.

No Whumper. No Whumper’s body. Not even a little bit of blood, or a stray finger, or a trace of him in the seat they knew he’d been sitting in. It was as if he’d just vanished.

They hadn’t checked the cockpit.

Whumpee got up off the ground, swaying on their feet a bit in their attempt to balance on the uneven, tilted flooring, before making their way in.

It was immediately apparent that the front of the plane had taken the brunt of the damage.

The first thing they saw was the pilot, or what was left of him. His head had caved in against the controls, his brains splattered over everything in the cockpit.

Including Whumper, laid in the pilot’s lap.

Whumper looked over with wild, very-much-alive eyes, his hands gripped around the yoke as if he could somehow still steer the plane to safety.

His legs disappeared under the copilot’s side of the cockpit, undoubtedly crushed, blood trickling out from the mess of gnashed steel.

Terror was a look Whumpee had never seen on his face before.

“Help,” he choked out.

“What happened? Where are we?” Whumpee demanded.

“Plane crashed,” he whimpered, voice laden with pain. “It started to dip and we were hours late and something didn’t feel right, so I checked in the cockpit and the pilot was cold–I think he’d been dead for a while, like a fucking, heart attack or stroke or something? And it was just on autopilot until it ran out of gas. I tried to steer the plane and–and here we are. I don’t know where.”

He wasn’t even chastising them for their disrespectful tone. He was trembling. It barely felt like Whumper without the pompous attitude, the air of power. Just a sad, pathetic man lost in the cold.

“Are my legs okay?” he asked.

“Nope. Crushed,” Whumpee informed him.

Whumper sobbed. “What do we do?”

“I guess we just wait for the authorities to come get us and–”

All of a sudden, it hit them: this was it. The end. They were free. Once they were rescued, they’d be able to go back home. No more Whumper, no more of catering to his sick whims, no more pain. They were out.

“And then you’ll go to prison,” they finished chipperly. “Enjoy it while it lasts. This might be your very last taste of freedom.”

“F-fine. Fine, prison, sure. Just–get me away from this body.” Whumper shivered.

Whumpee crossed their arms. “Beg.”

For a moment, Whumper just stared at them, the wheels turning in his brain. Whumpee was beginning to think he wouldn’t do it, when the words spilled from his mouth: “Please help me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything I did to you, I’m so fucking sorry, just help me, please.”

It was amateurish, inarticulate. No way would Whumper have accepted that from them. But Whumpee would let it slide, because they weren’t a pretentious asshole, and some allowance had to be made for the fact that he’d just had his legs crushed.

They examined the situation a little closer: Whumper’s legs were surely destroyed, but it wasn’t a case where he’d just had them chopped off and the rest of him was two legs lighter. They were pinned, and moving him would be impossible. He’d been effectively fused with the plane.

Whumpee took a deep breath, grit their teeth, and hefted up the pilot’s body, carrying it into the body and dropping it in one of the surviving seats before returning to Whumper, the back of his head now resting in the butt of the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, now me,” Whumper directed. And, as a hasty afterthought, “Please.”

“I literally, physically cannot move you. Not unless I saw through your thighs with a steak knife, and I’m pretty sure you’d just bleed out,” Whumpee pointed out. “I think your only chance at survival is to just wait for the professionals to come handle whatever you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“O-okay.” Whumper was sniffling now, crying like a child, not that Whumpee could blame him. “Is there any way we can contact anyone to come get us?”

“I don’t know anything about planes!” Whumpee snapped. “I’d never even been on a plane before you kidnapped me! This is your plane! That you own! Shouldn’t you know the least thing about how it works? The emergency protocols? Anything?”

“There’s, um, um,” Whumper stammered, wracking his brain, “The radio, I tried it, nothing. There’s something called a black box, I think? I’ve heard of that. I don’t know what it is or how it works. Something about plane crashes?”

“I can’t believe this. You’re an idiot. What about the destination? Who’s waiting on you? There’s gotta be an airport or something expecting us, right?” Whumpee pressed.

The silence that followed was its own answer.

“Speak!” Whumpee shouted.

“Um, w-well, well, with–you know. I couldn’t have anyone knowing about…” Whumper’s voice quieted to a squeak, “...You. So this flight was kind of… secret?”

It was as if Whumpee’s soul left their body. For ten seconds, thirty seconds, a full minute, they just stood there. Staring at Whumper, then out the cracked-open windshield into the endless white, snowy mountains.

“Whumpee?”

As soon as Whumper brought them back to reality, Whumpee was on him, straddling him and punching him right in the face over, and over, and over.

“You fucking idiot! You’ve killed us! You killed me!” they screamed, wailing on him. “How could you be so stupid!? How could you do this? Are you serious? No one is coming! We’re dead!”

Whumper weakly put his hands up, to little effect, putting them back down after a couple punches, not resisting after that, as if he knew he deserved it. With a final smash of their fist into his cheekbone, Whumpee got up, brushing themself off and fixing the blanket back around them.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” they murmured. “Not even satisfying now.”

“M-maybe they’ll find us anyway,” Whumper whispered.

Whumpee huffed. “Yeah. Sure. Everything’s always worked out for you up until now, hasn’t it, big guy? We’ll see.”

-

The rest of the day passed in near-silence from Whumpee’s part, though Whumper continued to try and fail to start conversations. Whining first for companionship, which Whumpee wholly rebuffed, but then for water and a blanket, which they granted. At the very least, with all the snow, they didn’t have to worry about that. He whined a lot about how much his legs hurt, which they let pass without commentary.

“I’m starving,” Whumper complained, watching Whumpee snack on some carefully measured-out fancy roasted nuts. “Please bring me something to eat? Please?”

At least he’d learned his manners.

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Whumpee replied. “Our supply of food is really, really limited, and I don’t see anything edible around. No plants, no animals, no civilization. So what we’ve got is what we’ve got. And what we’ve got is a single flight’s worth of meals and snacks, and…”

They glanced over to the pilot’s corpse.

Whumper recoiled. “No. You’re insane.”

“I’m ready to survive. Not that you’d know anything about that. The way I see it, if I ration the food out, it still only lasts a couple of days for one person. Your pilot buddy’s got a lot of meat on him, and I packed him in snow to keep him from going bad too fast. Like a natural freezer. We’re both gonna be dining on him by Saturday, but I’m taking all the good food. Consider it payment for the last three years.” They popped another peanut in their mouth, then closed the jar. They really did intend to ration.

“That’s ridiculous! Worse than ridiculous, it’s unthinkable! I’m not a cannibal!” Whumper protested.

“Yeah, just an abusive human trafficker, that’s so much better,” Whumpee mocked. “Everyone’s a cannibal when they run out of food. Honestly, you’re next up if no one rescues us by the time we run out of pilot. It’s your fault we’re here. Deal with it. Call me when you’re really hungry.”

“You’re insane. You’re insane,” Whumper repeated under his breath as they left him.

-

The night was unbearable, even with the blanket. The thought of huddling for warmth with Whumper was so appalling it made their skin crawl, but as the hours stretched on and Whumpee realized that they may very well die if they didn’t, they made their way back to the cockpit.

Whumper was far worse off, having deteriorated horribly in the hours. Bound to the freezing metal of the plane, his legs had turned pitch-black where they touched it, the rest of his thighs hidden by the blanket he kept desperately trying to keep around himself as wind blew over him. His fingers and the tips of his ears, though not nearly as bad as his legs, had turned a sickening purple.

He looked up wearily. “Help.”

Whumper wasn’t going to make it. That much was obvious.

It was strange. For years, Whumpee had wished for his death every single day. Even now, they wouldn’t really be sad for Whumper if he died, not really.

But the thought of being out here totally alone? They thought they knew true terror, living under Whumper’s thumb, but this was another level. They might as well be stranded in the reaches of space, contact with their ship severed, alone in the empty blackness.

“Alright.” The words almost came from somewhere else, like Whumpee was watching from outside their body. “Let’s… huddle for warmth.”

Whumpee squeezed themself into the chair with him, piling their blanket on top of his so they had two layers. “Here. Bring your arms in. We’ll keep all the arms in the middle between us so our fingers don’t fall off.”

“Okay,” Whumper wept. Even to Whumpee’s own chilly hands, Whumper’s were freezing.

They curled into the fetal position and tucked the blanket around both of them as best they could, though the ends of Whumper’s thighs stuck out. “Try and get some rest,” they encouraged.

“Okay. Thank–thank you,” Whumper managed. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

You’re not sorry. You would have hurt me forever if this didn’t happen. If our places were swapped, you would never be this nice. You probably would have used hurting me as stress relief to make you feel better about the crash.

“Sure. Get some rest,” Whumpee sighed.

-

When they woke up, Whumpee was cuddling a corpse.

Alone.

Wordlessly, they fished out one of the steak knives and got to work on sawing their future meals from the plane.

-

Oneshots taglist:

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@whuarri

@reborrowing

@paperprinxe

@what-if-i-just-did

Everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

@whumpy-wyrms

@all-hail-pigeons

@wolfeyedwitch

@starfields08000

@jumpywhumpywriter

@scoundrelwithboba

[magnificentmicrowave]

VULGAR DISPLAY OF WORSHIP

[emilylubanko]

(Relax Into) Stasis 2014.

Ink and watercolor.

[coldresolve]

if you still taking artrequests, what about renee begging for his drugs, tied up on stream?

c'mon, just give me something...

[zeroafterdark]

Stay Down

–

[Twitter]  for my NSFW art

[Patreon]  for my Hi-Rez, archive, and sketches

[gritpyre]

I wanna hurt you bad Make you paranoid And say the sweetest things

AKA happy late valentine's day!! have some toxic yuri

[nials-stuff]

When you are going through something rough

Is it more comforting to…

Torture a character

See a tortured character comforted

Put character in wholesome situations

Something else (specify?)

Voting ended onFeb 10, 2025

Genuinely just curious :0 I think I lean towards comforted oc and wholesome situations bc torturing a character is all fun and games until you’re going through some shit😭. At the same time I like putting characters in paralyzing fearful situations. Dunno what’s up with that because fear is not a nice feeling.

[spuddy-potat]

small collection of whumpy art of my oc 🫶🫶🫶 i was kinda hesitant to post these since idk if anyone who follows this blog really wants oc art but YALL ARE GETTING IT ANYWAY

[befuddled-calico-whump]

throwing kiv into the torment nexus