Blosoms Writing Blog

Rhi/Blosom, any pronouns, adult

[blosoms-writing-blog]

So I've spent quite a bit of time working on the lore of my main world Legend of the Soul Hearts

So I have now put all of my powerpoints into one post that will be pinned to my blog, here they are for the world, the deities and the main characters of my world

Legend of the Soul heart OCs

Legend of the Soul Hearts OCs

Legend of the Soul Hearts World

Lore of Legends of Soul Hearts

Mistdell gods

Mistdell gods

(If it's not a Picrew it doesn't belong to me. Certain art was commissioned from friends)

[chainandfeather]

Whumper becoming so so nice to Whumpee once they’re broken in—apologizing for their previous behavior/actions, even. They really are so sorry for having been so rough on Whumpee at first. Isn’t it so much nicer when Whumpee is compliant? If they hadn’t been so oppositional, things could have been like this from the beginning!

[chainandfeather]

Brought to you by dialogue brewing in my head that probably won’t be relevant to anything I write ever:

“…why are you being nice to me?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I wanted to treat you this way from the beginning! You were just so… difficult, at first.”

[snarehare]

Whumpee who mistrusts that Caretaker isn't the new Whumper.

They're wary. They're careful. They can practically feel the other shoe dropping. Nothing happens. It's not normal. They can't be calm when Caretaker is in the room.

Eventually, Caretaker has to mirror an action that Whumper used to do. Maybe Whumper always used to make Whumpee bathe with them: Whumpee runs a horrible fever and can't get up on their own.

Caretaker is running the bath while Whumpee lingers in the back of the room, perfectly still.

"You don't have to get fully undressed if you don't want to," Caretaker says, "But take off what you can. We need to make sure nothing gets infected while you're sick."

When they turn back around, they find Whumpee already knelt on the tile, facing the wall. Their back, hatchmarked and wounded, exposed under the yellowish lights.

There's a pause.

"...Whumpee?"

"I believe that you are lenient," Whumpee starts. "I think you are kind. Kinder than others I've lived with. But it's been a long time. I can't stand the waiting anymore. Please, if you really are merciful, do it now. Where I can see it coming. Where I can clean it up easily."

[iamafkrn]

enemies to lovers but its not "who did this to you?" but its "I did this to you" bc damn in the moment it felt necessary but the cuts weren't supposed to be that deep. the lashes should have faded by now, right? why are they still limping? make your characters self reflect. burden them with guilt and regret :) imagine laying in bed with the person you grew to love, only for them to roll over in their sleep and for you to see the nettled scars you inflicted on them

[livingforthewhump]

something that’s really itching my brain right now is the idea of a whumpee who sinks right back into their old ways the moment danger rears its head. maybe they’ve made a lot of progress—they don’t flinch anymore, they barely get nightmares or panic attacks, they’re living their life normally—but the moment whumper reappears, or something is similar enough to what they faced before, all that progress is gone in a second

[whump-queen]

honestly hair pulling is so fucking based as a means of physical control like —- there’s just no choice — they don’t stand a chance. It’s like nature’s leash. Either they follow the direction of the hair pull or get their hair yanked out. And their brain’s base instincts will do anything to avoid getting their scalp torn/hair ripped out. It’s perfect for dragging a whumpee by the hair across the room or down the hall. Or using a hair grip to hold their head in place while you slap the ever loving shit out of them. Grabbing their hair and yanking them down to their knees. Shoving them face down onto a surface with a tight fistful of their hair—holding their head down against that surface with a fierce grip, maybe twisting your wrist if you wanna hear some pretty noises. Dragging them UP by the hair to look at their pretty red face while they pant and gasp after getting hit a bunch of times… hearing them groan against the pain as you shake their head side to side… hair grabbing hair pulling… it’s just so humiliating and so so based…

[whump-galaxy]

A whumpee yelling stay back while the whumper approaches, pulling the whumpee’s chains tighter and tighter.

The whumpee trying to feign bravery and anger when the collar is pulled taut, but their voice betrays fear through its cracks.

[justbreakonme]

He was trained so well.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, perfectly positioned just as he’d been told.

Standing in the corner of the living room, hands clasped behind his back, as life moves on around him.

Miss had tried to trick him, before. Patting the sofa seat next to her, an offer to sit down. Holding out a cup of tea, saying it was still warm. All these little temptations hadn’t worked. He knew better, he was better.

He was safer, there in the corner of the room. His joints ached and his muscles burned but his mind could go blissfully blank. Most of the time.

But today…

Miss had a friend over. They were talking quietly in the front room, he couldn’t hear what might be said but that wasn’t his business anyway.

When they both walked into the room, he stiffened further, casting his eyes to the floor.

“Do you really think…?” Miss whispered to her friend, and he hoped it wasn’t anything to do with him, but when they both looked up, directly at him… that hope was gone.

“Honey?”

“Yes Miss?”

“Um- I want you to come sit in the chair there. Go sit in that chair.”

She pointed to a big, squashy, luxuriously comfortable looking chair, diagonal from the couch.

His heart dropped, but he nodded. This was an order, no mistake about it. If he was punished for following an order, then- then it wasn’t really about obedience then was it? And there’d be nothing he could have done anyway.

He crossed the room, and carefully, carefully, sat down. It was harder, to be poised and keep his posture correct, if anything, it was more painful than standing, but he would do it.

Miss looked to her friend, mouth open slightly, as if shocked that he had obeyed. He felt faintly embarrassed, like he needed to prove now that he was obedient, this was just the first real order he’d been given.

“Okay,” she turned back to him, “Now, um… I want you to relax. Lean back, whatever is comfortable, please. Relax, that’s an order.”

He had to hold back a wry smile at that. Authority didn’t seem to come naturally to her, but…

He tried, he really did, to relax. His back popped audibly as he leaned back, and both Miss and her friend raised their eyebrows, looking… worried?

It felt…unnatural. Vulnerable. To be sitting, “relaxed”, with them standing only a few yards away. He hoped they would sit down.

“Good. Good job, you’re doing great, thank you.”

Her voice was gentle, genuine, and now… oh.

Suddenly he was holding back tears. It had been… it had been so long since he’d been good…

Miss and her friend sat down, exchanging a look he didn’t understand, and switched on the TV.

He was glad for that. He needed a moment, before he fell apart, a moment to fight back tears before they could fall and give him away.

A few minutes passed, and he had almost gotten it under control when…

Miss turned, face falling as they accidentally locked eyes.

“Oh- Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-” her voice dropped with concern, and despite years of practice, he couldn’t find the threat in it.

It felt real, and his logic couldn’t fight that, or the tears that overcame all his restraint.

“Sorry-“ was all he could manage, before Miss was up and too close-

He flinched.

All his training was falling apart, even as he kept his hands at his sides, tense as a bowstring.

“No, no don’t be sorry, I-“ she dropped to her knees beside his feet, looking back at her friend as if for help before looking back at him, “I was just trying to figure out what to do, how to help you… If you don’t want to sit, you don’t have to, you can stand, anything you want-“

Tears were forming in her own eyes, which confused him further.

From behind Miss, her friend stood up, coming over a few steps but still keeping a few feet between them.

That seemed to have a kind of effect on her, she looked over, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, then looked towards the ceiling for a moment.

She let out a breath, looking back at him. “If there’s something wrong, or uncomfortable, I want you to tell me.”

An order.

He swallowed hard, and answered truthfully. “There is nothing wrong, Miss.”

“Then why- Please, tell me why you’re crying.”

That one was harder, it wouldn’t be something she would understand, which would mean more questions, more opportunities for error…

“I am-” he choked for only a moment, “I am glad to be good.”

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #3893

He'd never asked for this. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be liked. He tried to be better.

Nothing was ever good enough. He was just meant to be hurt people.

[whumpshaped]

I have an oddly specific request be hear me out.

Whumpee gets captured and tortured while on a undercover mission. They are rescued by another team. A team that didn't even know they were there in the first place

So now Whumpee isn't sure if they can this team of complete strangers or when they'll get back to their own team.

#160

content: team whump, captivity, past torture

"Fuck," the stranger who entered the room said, and Whumpee retreated into the far corner of their cage, their chains rattling as they did so. New people were always bad news. It meant Whumper had brought friends. "Leader? There's a person here. They're chained up."

That wasn't how this usually went. Usually, when Whumper brought friends, they would come into the room with them. And usually, there was no pity on their face.

Who Whumpee could only assume was Leader stepped into the room, and immediately, their face also took on that same patronising expression as their friend. "Fuck," they said as well. "There were supposed to be no hostages."

"Are you with Whumper?" they rasped. They hadn't been given water in what must've been days.

"No, no. We're here to help. We didn't know Whumper was holding someone captive. We'll look for the keys to your chains, just wait here. Caretaker, stay with them while we find the keys."

"Roger that." Caretaker walked over and sat on the other side of the metal bars, offering them a kind smile. A smile Whumpee couldn't bring themself to trust. "How long have you been here?"

"Weeks," they muttered. Where was their team? It was supposed to be their team who got them out. Where were they? Maybe they were working with these strangers? But how were they supposed to ask about that without giving away their identity? It was too risky. They had to pretend they were just snatched up off the street or something. "Who are you guys?"

"Oh, right. You must be so confused. My name is Caretaker, and my teammate whom you've just seen is Leader. We're a team of six, and we've been hunting Whumper and their friends for years. We finally pinpointed where their lair is, and now we're here. Whumper is in a police car by now, I'm sure. So you don't have to be afraid. What's your name?"

"Whumper is in a police car? You called the cops? And they just took them?"

"It's weird to imagine, right?"

"It… It feels impossible."

"Well, it's possible, because it just happened. So… Your name?"

Whumpee gave them a fake name, and Caretaker seemed satisfied with it. They chatted away a while longer, and soon, Leader was back with the keys to open the cage, and eventually their chains as well.

"Water," they begged. They didn't trust these people not to put something in their drink, so they just rushed to where they knew Whumper's kitchen was, drinking from the tap. Memories of them being handcuffed to the stove while it was turned on flooded their mind, and they had to sit down for a moment. Caretaker was quick to ask them if they were okay, and they lied and said yes. But how would they be okay? And where the fuck was their own team?

"We can bring you back to base," Leader offered.

"No," they said, furrowing their brows. "No, I don't… Can you bring me to a hospital instead?"

"Medic can examine you at base."

"Why do you want me there?"

"We need your testimony. You've been with Whumper for a while, we need all the insider information you can provide."

"We should just bring them to a hospital, like they asked," Caretaker cut in. "I don't think they're in the position to provide a testimony. They've been hurt badly."

"I'm not arguing about this," Leader said decisively, and Whumpee's stomach dropped. They were going to be taken captive again. This team didn't have their best interests at heart.

So Whumpee stood up and bolted.

[sacredtongues]

we should torture princes more. and make their knights watch but be unable to help. we should lock them up in cellars but make them unable to touch. all they can do is talk. the knight is quite terrible at comforting people with words but god he cannot bear to hear his prince cry any longer.

[sweetwhumpandhellacomf]

dear god please picture the knight's hand (still gauntleted) reaching just enough through the bars of their prince's prison to stroke his tear-streaked cheek, and the prince leaning into it

[sacredtongues]

“It— It hurts. Gods, it hurts more than I—“

“I know, majesty,” the Knight whispers. The setup is simple, but effective; two adjacent cellars, separated by a simple pathway of stone. It’s cruel, to be this close, and unable to touch…

The Knight has never been touchy-feely, if he is honest. Even as he walked alongside his Prince, he was always sure to keep a respectful distance— two paces back, one to the left. He is sorely regretting his chivalry now.

For the nth time, he extends a gauntleted hand through the bars of his cell. He cannot… quite… reach, but the Prince extends his hand too, as much as it pains him to do so, and they are able to grasp each other in the middle.

“I will get us out of here. Do you understand me?” The Knight says, voice humming with grit. He may not be good at comfort, but he still has his armor. That must mean something.

The Prince sighs a horrible little note of pain. It’s easier, when he’s straining himself like this, to see his wounds— lashes in the stomach, in the sides, in the back. They aren’t particularly severe or deep, but they burn a painful red. The Knight would give anything to switch places with him.

Which is what their captors want. Gods, what a simple, perfect trick. The Knight will have to tell the executioner about this when they get back.

He is snapped out of his own thoughts by the sound of the Prince shuddering in pain. The smallest gust of wind must irritate the hot wounds. “Knight,” he whispers, and the Knight’s heart jumps, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” The Knight hisses, almost angry at the apology. “You have done nothing. Less than nothing, you have endured a pain I should’ve protected you from. I am the one who should be apologizing.”

The Prince chuckles. “So… selfless. All the time. I simply regret…” He pauses, takes a low breath. The Knight waits for him to speak more, but the Prince’s head has slumped forward against the bars, unconscious.

“Prince,” he whispers, squeezing his majesty’s hand. “Prince, my dear, are you alright? Please, you have to wake up. What did they— Gods, please, please, Prince—“

His words echo silently off the cool walls of the prison.

[painsandconfusion]

I REBLOGGED THIS LIKE AN HOUR AGO AND YOURE ALREADY HERE WITH A SCENE FOR ME TO ENJOY!?!?!?

BLESS YOU

[blosoms-writing-blog]

Based off my DnD Campaign have some Rhyo angst!

If you want to watch the series check out the playlist on my channel! Spoilers for most recent episode Aftermath (Any Adventures in Mistdell Players go away! I'm looking at you Ree!)

Rhyo ran through the forests of Illean early in the morning. He didn't know where to go, except away from the town. Away from the party and away from Ain.

"No…no no no I hurt him…I hurt Wilbur. Fuck. I've got to get away before I hurt anyone else." He thought to himself, tears rolling down his eyes, the image of Talia's furry in his head carved into his memory. He tripped over a log and yelped, landing on the ground and into the dirt.

"Fuck!" He shouted out, slamming his fits into the dirt. "Oh you…fuck you…I hate you both," he cried out, falling onto his knees. "What did you two do to me?"

"Poor little boy." He jolted up and onto his feet, swerving around to see Garlen standing above him with his usual grin.

"You!" He shouted, snarling his fangs out. Garlen chuckled softly, holding a hand up. "Thanks for the ride Artemis! I've got him!" He called. Rhyo glanced behind him to see a portal open in the trees and Artemis grinning at him before the portal closed. Garlen looked down at him. "You've had a hard day, haven't you Rhyo?"

"FUCK YOU!" He shouted charging at him. He punched him right in the stomach, but the towering man barely moved. He slammed both of his fits into his stomach, sobs threatening to over take him. His body stiffened up as Garlen wrapped both arms around him, one hand running his fingers through the boys hair.

"Shhhh it's alright, you're alright boy." Rhyo snarled at his soft voice and pushed him away, making him chuckle. "Oh don't give me that shit! You did this to me! What did you do to me?!"

"I made you stronger. I did tell you didn't I?" He grabbed Rhyo by his hair, holding him still much to his struggles. He leaned in close to his ear.

"You're a weapon. You were made to fight."

Rhyo froze for a second before kicking him in between the legs, making him bend over. "NEVER!" He snarled out. "Careful of that temper Rhyo. One of these days, you might kill somebody. You almost killed Wilbur. Who's to say who's next? Maybe…Ain?" Rhyo's eyes widened as he took several steps back, shaking his head before jolting through the forest. Garlen's words echoed in his head once more.

"You're a weapon. You were made to fight."

Somehow Rhyo burst out through the forests without being taken to the Faewilds. He panted appearing in a large field of grass. Dirt covered his face and twigs laid in his hair. He sniffled, whipping his nose, tears running from his face again.

"I…need to go…" he panted. "Somewhere…that…someone can stop me…someone I don't mind hurting…" He tilted his head back and sighed. "Fine…Merk looks like I'm keeping my end of the deal." With that, he took a teleportation crystal Viola's mother had given him to bring Viola back…that he never used. He thought of home, holding it close to him, the swirling of teleportation magic leaving a small sigil on the ground

Rhyo knocked on the door, just as the sun was rising over the port town. He sighed softly leaning on it before jolting forward as it opened. A groggy looking Rhys opened it, rubbing her eyes before freezing seeing him.

"H-hey," he said, hating how his voice cracked, before clearing his throat. "I umm…I don't know if you wanted to see me but can I-" He stumbled forward as she tackled him into a hug, tightly wrapping herself into his chest.

"RHYO! You're home!" She cried out, tearing up as she hugged him tighter "Ahh Rhys fuck," he said, groaning feeling bruises from the dragon. "A-A little less tight please?"

"Sorry!" She said quickly letting go. "I forgot…binder." The two shared a chuckle. "Right…binder…" Rhyo mumbled, having forgotten about it. Maybe that's why his ribs hurt so much.

"Get in here," she said pulling him inside. "I've got a pot of coffee started if you want some." She rubbed her hands together pacing around the room, picking up some things. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, research."

"Right yea…research…" he mumbled before practically collapsing on the couch as she finished cleaning it off. "Shit you okay?" She asked rushing over. He sighed lifting his shirt up trying to take a look at his chest. "Oh that looks nasty let me get a first aids kit. Coffee?" She rushed off to grab some stuff leaving him to pant on the couch. He glanced up hearing her keep talking.

"I've still got your room set up! Didn't touch a thing! Oh right I have used the guest room for a friend. Keli, she's our new roommate. She's at work right now at the apothecary. You'll like her, half elf plays the Viol." He stifled back a sob hearing that, biting his fist softly.

"I'm so happy you're-Rhyo? Rhyo what's wrong?" She asked rushing over dropping the first aid kit and rushing over. He could barely hold is shaking back, tears welling in his eyes. "Hey hey hey what's going on?" She grabbed his fists watching him.

"I thought this would be easy," he whispered. "I didn't think…I mean…you didn't look and…I…" He choked up gripping her hands tightly.

"What do you…of course I looked for you! I looked everywhere for you!" She shouted grabbing his face and tilting his head back, before freezing. "Rhyo…fuck your eye-"

"Isn't important!" He snapped at her before sighing. "Fuck…I've got to get this under control. I can't…hurt anyone else."

"What happened to you? And what made you think I never looked for you? I crossed the seas to look for you, everywhere I could!"

"Not hard enough! Never hard enough!" He got up pacing around snarling. "I prayed every fucking day, that you would find me in that…hell of a lab! That you could save me! But I was wrong! You never came for me!" He punched the wall, cracking under his bruised fists. He pulled his fist back seeing the hole in the wall. "They made me a monster and…nobody came for me…" He pressed his head to the wall sobbing, letting the tears flow.

He tensed up feeling someone touch him, before glancing back seeing Rhys leaning on him, her arms wrapped around his chest. He looked at her, silent tears coming down her face.

"I'm sorry," her voice cracked as she spoke. "You're right, I didn't look hard enough. I'm so sorry…" She sniffled before grabbing his fists as he turned around. "You're hurt…let me patch you up…please Rhyo. Let me help you now."

The two remained silent as Rhys wrapped Rhyo's fists up, her finger shaking as she finished. She leaned forward, grabbing at his shirt before looking up at him. He sighed but nodded, letting her lift his shirt up and wrap his chest up.

"When…when you started yelling…you mentioned you…can't hurt anyone else. What happened?" She asked, voice cracking again.

"I…got angry…something snapped inside me and I…hurt Wilbur. My friend. One of the people who saved me. We were fighting a dragon and…I don't know what happened but I hurt him…and I don't know what to do." He covered his face with his hands as she finished. "And they were so angry…Talia…she hated me."

"You…don't know why?" She asked tilting her head. "I mean it certainly wasn't him who I was angry at it was the dragon-" "You fought a fucking dragon!?" "And we won too." He smirked a little before loosing it.

"Point is, I don't know why or what caused me to attack Wilbur. And I don't want to hurt anyone else." He whipped his nose sighing. "And I thought…you hated me so I…I came here…so I wouldn't feel bad if it happened again. But I was wrong…and you still love me…and despite every fucking thing telling me to hate you I just…I still love you too." He stood up sighing. "I need to go."

"Where?" Rhys asked standing up with him. "Back to the lab. If one place is going to have answers it's there." He sighed before turning around to see her putting her capelet on.

"I'm coming." He stared at her as she grabbed her satchel. "What? I'm not leaving you again." "You're staying," he stated firmly.

"No." She pointed at him firmly. "You listen here brother. I lost you once, I am not letting those…those…psychopaths hurt you ever again! Who knows what they'll do to you if they catch you again! I'm coming, that's final." She headed for the stairs. "If you try and fucking leave without me I'm charging after you! Have to get my sword. We'll stop by the bakery for breakfast." He chuckled shaking his head.

"Reckless shit," he mumbled shaking his head. "Yes I am!" She said coming back down with two short swords at her hips. "Wait…isn't that the sword of Ephyra?" He paused looking at them. "Yes…long story I'll explain later." "No…fuck Garlen went after those!"

"Garlen? Big guy in a boar mask?" He slowly nodded, eyes widening. "Shit." Both siblings said at once

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

may all your favorite fanfic writers never lose their hyperfixation and love for your blorbos so they keep writing fanfics about your blorbos forever

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #3846

"Don't you understand that I'm trying to get you to leave me?" She snapped as he reached to caress her. "You're too fucking forgiving, and I don't do a single nice thing for you. Why the fuck do you put up with it?"

The soft look he always wore fell, but not to one of anger or of shock. Instead, his expression was nothing but grave. "You lash out because you don't feel like you deserve love. You want me to give that right back to you, but I'm not going to do that. You can be kind, you can be loved, and you can feel good, but you're going to have to be willing to do that. Now, do you want to keep yelling at me, or do we want to try a different approach?"

[luna-azzurra]

Quick tips for writing found family vibes

☽ character A* saying “ugh you’re so annoying” while giving B* their last piece of food without hesitation

☽ one of them keeps a tally of who saved whose life. it’s always mostly a joke. mostly.

☽ someone quietly patching up another’s wounds and neither of them talks about it

☽ a big fight. like, yelling, rage, “fine then LEAVE” — but they don’t leave. they sleep five feet apart. still grumpy. still ride or die.

☽ A* carrying B* on their back and B* being like “put me down I’m fine” while actively bleeding out

☽ weird inside jokes that no one else gets. like everyone around them is like “is this a code???” no. it’s just dumb.

☽ one of them has a Bad Day and the others just know. they don’t talk about it, they just pull them into a couch pile and put on a movie

☽ dumb arguments like “you cannot name the dog Knife” followed immediately by “...fine. but I get to name the next one”

☽ someone saying “I don’t need help” and getting helped anyway

☽ they threaten to kill each other like every other hour, but the second someone else threatens one of them? suddenly it’s murder o’clock.

☽ found family member B* never had a birthday party before and now they get one every year and it’s a disaster and they love it

☽ car singalongs. chaotic energy. someone takes the harmony too seriously. someone else is off-key on purpose. someone films it. blackmail for later.

☽ someone says “no one’s ever done that for me before” and the other characters all go “????” because it was a tiny thing

☽ shared chores, shared grief, shared joy, shared toothbrush (gross), shared everything.

☽ someone forgets they’re allowed to ask for help now. someone else reminds them.

☽ someone new joins the group and asks “so who’s in charge?” and everyone points at someone different. or they just laugh. because no one is. or they all are.

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #3821

"What do you mean you lost the artifact?"

"Well, you see, I took a cheap flight to get here, and TSA decided it wasn't safe and threw it out."

"What kind of lackey are you? You didn't steal a helicopter? Threaten them to return it to you?"

"I mean, you could also just pay me enough to afford a private flight."

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #3808

"You're a leader. You're just afraid to fuck it up."

"Doesn't that mean I'm not the right person for the job?"

"No, it means you're young and inexperienced. Everyone's scared all the time."