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[wormwriting]

Hi, call me Worm!

I've moved my blog over here because sideblogs are a pain. My old blog is now @deadworm

I write and reblog whumpy stories and prompt lists, so if that's your jam, then feel free to stick around! I'd love to have you - make yourself at home :D

Onto the Masterlist:

All characters/works are mine unless stated otherwise. Noctyrne

Justice against gods - first encounters, sfw, 100 words, Nola's pov Introductions and other empty words - and so it begins, sfw, 1300 words, Octyrne's pov

IΘΧ

Chapter 1

Things that aren't long stories with unnecessary worldbuilding

Whumper/Caretaker Prompt List - collab with @painsandconfusion

More than happy to receive constructive criticism, be it writing advice or suggestions for content warnings/tags. Be kind.

[deadworm]

Hey, go check out my new blog! This one's getting abandoned

[thatwritergirlsblog]

Tips for Writing a Difficult Scene

Every writer inevitably gets to that scene that just doesn't want to work. It doesn't flow, no matter how hard you try. Well, here are some things to try to get out of that rut:

1. Change the weather

I know this doesn't sound like it'll make much of a difference, but trust me when I say it does.

Every single time I've tried this, it worked and the scene flowed magically.

2. Change the POV

If your book has multiple POV characters, it might be a good idea to switch the scene to another character's perspective.

9/10 times, this will make the scene flow better.

3. Start the scene earlier/later

Oftentimes, a scene just doesn't work because you're not starting in the right place.

Perhaps you're starting too late and giving too little context. Perhaps some description or character introspection is needed before you dive in.

Alternatively, you may be taking too long to get to the actual point of the scene. Would it help to dive straight into the action without much ado?

4. Write only the dialogue

If your scene involves dialogue, it can help immensely to write only the spoken words the first time round.

It's even better if you highlight different characters' speech in different colors.

Then, later on, you can go back and fill in the dialogue tags, description etc.

5. Fuck it and use a placeholder

If nothing works, it's time to move on.

Rather than perpetually getting stuck on that one scene, use a placeholder. Something like: [they escape somehow] or [big emotional talk].

And then continue with the draft.

This'll help you keep momentum and, maybe, make the scene easier to write later on once you have a better grasp on the plot and characters.

Trust me, I do this all the time.

It can take some practice to get past your Type A brain screaming at you, but it's worth it.

So, those are some things to try when a scene is being difficult. I hope that these tips help :)

Reblog if you found this post useful. Comment with your own tips. Follow me for similar content.

[whumpsabyss]

Threatening Lines

• “Don’t pull away from me.”

• “Why don’t you try that again?”

• “You thought that would be a good idea?”

• “Go ahead. Do it.”

• “Why don’t you come with me?”

• “Take one more step and see what happens.”

• “You’re pissing me off.”

• “Don’t you fucking dare.”

• “I can’t let that go.”

• “That was a mistake.”

• “What are you doing?”

[redstainedsocks]

Dialogue prompts: Keep

Whumper:

"Keep going, I didn't tell you to stop."

"I think I'm going to keep you."

"I'll just keep hurting you until. It. Sinks. In."

"There's nothing to keep me from killing you right now... unless you have something to offer?".

Caretaker:

"I'll keep you safe, I'll keep us all safe."

"Keep trying, I've got you."

"Please don't shut me out, I need you to keep talking to me."

"If you keep this up, you're going to pull your stitches!"

Whumpee:

"I can't keep doing this, but I don't know how to stop."

"Is this the way it will always be? Every time I think I'm safe it just keeps happening?"

"Keep me company? Please?"

"It's for me? I can keep it?"

[avvail]

winter hunt part i

tw: mention of dead animals, graphic threats, trading themself as a hostage

Protagonist's fur cladded boots left thick dents in the snow covered ground, crunching delicately under their footsteps. A cloud of mist formed with each careful breath they took, and exhaled. The snowy lands they ventured through were barren, and deserted, nothing but acres of white ground and dead, crooked trees.

The press of their bow and stack of arrows were prominent against their back, as well as the sack thrown haphazardly over their shoulder. The sun had soon began to creep over the edge of the horizon, enlightening the small cabin they had been journeying towards.

The small tickle of snowflakes on their face ceased once they stepped inside, the floorboards cold and damp.

“Protagonist?” The voice was quiet, thick with sickness. Protagonist turned towards it with a frown.

“You should be asleep,” they scolded, placing the sack down on the floor carefully. “You’ve got to rest before we head to the village.”

Wind whistled as the morning dragged on, and Protagonist had stripped themselves of their thick fur coat, wrapping their sibling in it insead. They had to make a fire by hand, cold stricken hands pale and stiff as they worked the wood together, until the first flame had sparked.

They fed it, until they felt feeling return to the edges of the pink fingers.

“How many today?” Sibling’s croaky voice asked. Protagonist sent them a brief glance.

“Twelve. All rabbits.”

A feeble hunt, coming from the proclaimed ‘best hunter in the land’. But being on the run from Antagonist made their circumstances that much arduous, and every hunt counted more than they could ever imagine.

The descent down the snowy mountains had been challenging, with Siblings condition worsening with exposure to the harsh colds. The village had been much more populated than Protagonist had been informed, and almost cried from joy when the villagers rushed to their aid, and ushered them into one of their empty huts, setting a fire for them immediately.

Sibling was given a watery herbal remedy, and lay to rest on the wooden platform, covered with strings of dry grass for comfort. Protagonist stayed with them, before allowing themself to be treated, graciously taking the same remedy for their frost bitten state.

“You won’t be gone for long, right?” Sibling whispered dryly, gloved hand weakly tugging on Protagonist’s coat. They sent them a warm smile, throwing the sack of rabbits on their shoulder.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

They were sure they had been careful. Jumping from one village to another during the winter was no easy task, but for many moons had they been able to avoid Antagonist’s eyes, and wide scape searches. Protagonist had returned not long after trading the rabbits they had hunted, their bag stuffed with everything they had needed to settle for a few nights.

They had never reached for their bow so fast.

Antagonist themself, lurking beside the door as their henchmen tackled Sibling to the floor, pinning down their weak, thrashing form. Protagonist screamed their name, releasing their arrow from their bow with careful precision and speed, aiming directly for Antagonists' temple. The arrow whistled.

Antagonist caught it with a single, gloved hand.

“No need to get violent,” they spoke, their gaze still fixated on Sibling. They hadn’t looked away, not even once. “I’m only here to rid the world of one more thief.”

Protagonist had reached for another arrow, but hands grappled violently at their arms, and they had been forced down roughly onto their knees before they were able to take another shot. The blood rushed through their body in terror.

“I was wondering just how Sibling was able to avoid me so meticulously in their condition,” Antagonist hummed, head tilted towards Protagonist with a cold stare. “I have you to thank for that, don’t I?”

“Don’t hurt them, they haven’t done anything wrong,” Protagonist blurted, frantically yanking at their captors' hold. Antagonist eyes flashed with amusement.

“Bold of you to so confidently defend them. They’re a thief.”

Protagonist’s breath quickened. “Whatever it is they took, I can promise you it wasn’t them. Please don’t hurt them.”

Their pleas were ignored. A single command was directed towards one the henchmen, and they nodded curtly in response, twirling the hunting axe in their hands maliciously. Their boots thumped against the wooden floor, stopping by Siblings head. They were wailing by now, sobbing in horror.

“Wait, please!” Protagonist screamed, scratching their throat raw. “Please, don’t!”

The henchman twirled the axe, almost in a mock jester, raising it above their head after a beat of silence, angling the glistening blade. Protagonist ripped free. They could have charged straight towards the henchman, tackled them to the floor, or even retrieved their bow and arrows for a clean shot to the head.

But instead, they had stumbled onto their knees, in front of Antagonist, staring up at them with wide eyes in terror.

"I'll do anything," they forced out, hands grappling against the fabric of Antagonists fur coat. "I don’t care what it is, I’ll serve you, I’ll hunt for you. You can use me for your pleasure if it means you'll leave them alone. Please, I beg. I'll do anything."

Antagonist stared down at them with that same stoic gaze. They almost found the grovelling pathetic. Their hand ran through Protagonist's locks of hair, admiring how they flinched at the movement. They coaxed their head back, tear streaked face exposed to their eyes.

One of the greatest hunters in the land, and they were unraveling by their feet, begging them, bargaining their own dignity away.

"You're lucky you're pleasing to the eye," Antagonist murmured, finger stroking the underside of their jaw. They shuddered pathetically. "Or I'd butcher you along with your sibling."

A beat of silence, where the protagonist was sure they had lost the ability to breathe. Antagonist peered at their henchmen.

"Leave them."

Sibling was released not a moment later, nothing but a wheezing, wailing mess on the floor. Protagonist whipped around in anguish at their pain, but was seized roughly by the arm before they had the chance to scramble to their aid.

"If you dare scream, plea, or even try to escape, just know I won't hesitate to send my men here, and cut Siblings tongue out," came Antagonist's vile threat, a deep growl in Protagonist's ear. They nodded curtly, an ounce of panic in their movement.

One henchman tossed a plump sack against the uplifted wooden platform where Sibling once lay, rolling to a stop after a few seconds. Protagonist watched, their arm still twisted in Antagonist's firm fingers.

It was full of herbs. Herbs that would last Sibling months for a full recovery.

Protagonist almost broke down there and then, but a harsh tug against their arm choked up the sobs in their throat all at once.

"A-At least let me say goodbye—" They forced out, a plead edging in their voice. They were met with silence, and Antagonist continued to drag them out of the door, out in the cold winter. They grasped at the air, chest already aching as they caught a glance of their sibling, limp against the floor.

They pressed a hand against their mouth, with no choice but to stifle their sobs.

next

[deadworm]

Whump Prompts: Lines that work for Whumper AND Caretaker

Exactly what the title says. Sometimes there are lines that feel like they could work both in a whumpy context, and in a caring, loving context. This list is that intersection.

This is a collaboration with our darling @painsandconfusion, who's finally convinced me to play an active role in the community, so here you all go:

"Drink this."

"Don't move."

"I won't lie to you, this is going to hurt."

"Does that feel better?"

"Do you like that?"

"Oh honey, you're trembling."

"Shh....don't talk."

"You can cry, it's okay."

"What you need is a nice, long rest."

"Hold still and this will hurt less."

"Let me see."

"Don't think about that right now."

"They're not here."

"Are you going to tell me where you got that?"

"I'm gonna lock the door now."

"I'm right here."

"There's no shame in asking for help."

"Does that hurt?"

"Shh...I know it hurts."

"This should warm you up."

"I don't mind the blood"

"You aren't squeamish are you?"

"Do you want me to come over there?"

"Wait right here."

"Is that too hot?"

"We're gonna take it nice and slow, alright?"

"I think that's enough for today."

"Take a deep breath."

"Look at me - hey, look at me."

"How about I kiss it better?"

"Take it easy, you aren't going anywhere for a while."

"Oh, is that too tight?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"Trust me, you don't want to do that."

"You can never go wrong with a nice, hot cup of tea."

"Here, this will help you sleep."

"Now close your eyes."

Feel free to use these, and please tag myself and/or @painsandconfusion so we can read your wonderful whumpy writing!

And as always, if you think anything else needs to be tagged, just let me know :)

[prisonerwhump]

Ya know what's really underrated in whump?

That moment when the whumpee is on the floor either bleeding out, recovering from getting the shit beat out of them, restrained, ect.

And we see the whumper's feet just glide slowly by. A casual, dangerous pace as they either circle their prey, admiring their work or disregarding them and moving on.

Just. The POWER of that image.

The whumpee so helpless on the floor, perhaps barely conscious, their eyes weakly following the whumper's feet or glaring as they struggle against their bonds, maybe not even paying attention to the whumper and looking at a fellow whumpee, trying to reach out to them.

And the whumper is just so confident in their authority. Knowing they have ALL the power.

Every time I see this I just think "Hot damn."

[painsandconfusion]

YES

[painsandconfusion]

Nate Doing Ethan's Hair

Whumping the Whumpers: Part 10.5 - Bonus Scene

@wormwriting was sad this scene didn't make it into the Elias Kidnapping chapter (this was waaaaaayyyyyy too long and not nearly relevant enough to make the cut), so I'll give it to you guys now to tide you over till I'm done with finals.

This is pure fluff. Don't read this expecting whump lol.

(tw: brief knife, inferred past torture, kidnapping mention, language)

Takes place immediately before this scene.

[Masterlist]

.

Ethan could barely hold back a laugh as Nate came around the corner, stepping into the living room. It came out anyway as a strangled snort.

Nate froze, glancing down at his clothes. His eyes jumped back up to Ethan's, eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

What? Really? Did he not see how ridiculous he looked?

Nate's hair was greased back, slicked so close to his head that he looked like a bald egg. Even the tiny curls at the ends of his hair were perfectly straight, stuck in a shining golden cap. Ethan was sure if he rapped his knuckles against it, it would thunk in response.

Nate picked at his clothes again, genuine concern filling his face.

"Okay seriously, what?"

Ethan tried to wipe the smile from his face, but one corner of his mouth refused to un-pucker. "No no, it's nothing."

Nate jabbed his hand toward Ethan twice. "What? you're wearing the exact same thing. You think you look better in the stupid boots?"

Ethan pursed his lips to keep from smiling. Nate's hair didn't even move as he gesticulated wildly. It looked animated. Like a poorly done CGI creature clinging to him like a fungus.

Ethan cleared his throat, swallowing the laugher again. "No no, you look great in those boots. Don't worry about that."

Nate scowled at him. "Okay seriously, what is it?"

Ethan took a step back, shaking his head. "Nope, it's all good. No problem's here."

Nate glanced over him. Then reached into his pocket.

He slipped out a pocket knife and flipped it open with a 'click'.

"Spit it out."

Ethan's heart sputtered to a stop, then restarted, a little faster this time. He forced his breaths to stay slow. He didn't let the smirk fade from his face.

Ethan refused to stare at the knife. Nate had caught him off guard, that's all.

He shrugged. "I'm just wondering if you're actually going to go out in public with your hair like that."

Nate cracked a smile, reaching up to touch the side of his head. "What? Gelled?"

Ethan snorted at that. "Is that what you're calling it? 'Gelled'? It looks like you soaked it in polyurethane and let it set."

Nate chuckled a little, tapping the hair with his fingertips. It did give a little under his touch, but Ethan could swear he heard it crackle just a tiny bit. Nate pressed the knife closed against his leg, dropping it back into his pocket. "Well I'm glad it's making you smile, cuz you're going to match."

Ethan took a step back before he realized he was moving. "Oh no I'm fuckin' not."

Nate grinned, stepping forward. "Oh yes you are. I'm not having this mission spoiled by you leaving hairs all over the place. I'm a professional."

Ethan crossed his arms. "'Mission'?"

Nate shrugged, taking another step closer. "Well, what would you rather call it?"

Ethan's mind raced for an alternative, but he couldn't find one. "Okay, whatever, a mission. You're still not doing that to my hair."

Nate crossed his arms, mirroring Ethan. "Are you kidding? With your hair? Of course we have to. It will get everywhere."

Ethan scowled. "You're not touching my hair."

A grin. "What? It's not like I haven't before. Do you even know how to put it in a bun? Or is that going to be too difficult for you?"

Ethan paused. "I...can probably figure it out, you don't have to be a condescending prick."

Nate reached out, gripping Ethan's elbow. "Alright prove it." He tugged, shoving Ethan in front of him.

Ethan ripped his arm away, stepping back. "Don't touch me."

Nate sighed. "Whatever, just go up to the bathroom. I'm not kidding, you have to do this if we are going to pick up Elias today."

Ethan shot him a quick scowl before shoving his hands in his pockets and crossing the room. Nate followed him - a little too closely for his liking - as they roamed through the dining room, up the stairs, and into the bright white tile of the bathroom.

Ethan stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. He hadn't been in here since...well, best not to think about that now. Though his eyes did linger on the tub. His skin burned with the memories.

Nate bustled around the room, pulling his focus back to the present. Nate grabbed hair-ties and a small, round container from separate drawers, then set them on the counter.

He gestured pointedly at them.

"Hop to it, then."

Ethan forced his feet to move. He peeled one hair-tie off the cardboard, slipping it over his wrist. In a quick, smooth motion, he tossed his hair over his shoulders and scooped it up with one hand. He made a low ponytail, forcing himself not to pull the last loop all the way through.

He turned to find Nate holding back a smirk. Amusement danced in his eyes.

"What? You wanted a bun. This is a bun."

Nate rolled his eyes. "That is NOT a bun. That's just...a bad ponytail. And you should grease it first or it's not going to do any good."

Ethan sighed, ripping it back out. He stared at the elastic, trying to visualize.

Nate sighed, reaching behind him to roll a vanity chair around. It tapped against the backs of Ethan's knees.

Ethan shot Nate a dark look.

Nate grinned. Again. Did he ever stop doing that? The bastard's face must be constantly sore. "Go on, we need to leave soon and you're clearly shit at this."

Ethan glanced at the chair, then narrowed his eyes at Nate.

"Aw, what's the matter? Are you scared? It's just a chair." He pushed it against Ethan's knees again.

He did have a point...

Ethan took a deep, breath. His lungs burned. Slowly, he forced himself to turn, lowering himself into the chair.

"Better. Hand me the gel?" Nate's hand's rested on Ethan's shoulders. He forced himself not to tense up under the gentle touch.

Ethan reached out, gripping the can and passing it over his shoulder. Nate tucked it under his arm, then pulled Ethan's hair back over his shoulders. He skimmed his fingertips back across Ethan's scalp, combing the hair back into one smooth lock. It felt...almost nice.

He unscrewed the canister, scooping out a generous dollop with his fingertips. He smeared it across Ethan's scalp, raking it down. He scrubbed and massaged it until it worked against his scalp. Ethan grimaced.

Nate must have seen his face in the mirror because he snorted softly. "I know. It feels so gross. Kinda itchy too when it dries, but you can't touch it. Even if it gets bad. Got it?" He brushed the gel further down, saturating even down to the ends of Ethan's hair.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "I do have some self control, thanks for your confidence in me."

Nate chuckled. "Glad to hear it."

Nate's hands slowed to a stop. He froze, holding the sticky mass in one hand.

Ethan's eyes search Nate's face in the mirror. His eyes were glazed over. "What?"

Nate blinked a few times, then glanced up, meeting his gaze. "Nothing." He continued combing. "I just...haven't done this in a while."

Ethan did his best to keep still as the gentle tug at his hair pulled him back in rhythmic waves. "You've done this for someone else?"

Nate's smile returned. "Not this exactly. Just. Hair in general. No one has sat in that chair for a long time."

Ethan paused, glancing around the room. There wasn't any evidence of anyone else ever living there. Ethan had always just kinda assumed Nate was a lone wolf from birth.

"Are you gonna tell me-"

Nate cut him off with a short laugh. "Nope." He glanced up, making grabby hands at the counter. "Hand me two hair-ties."

Ethan slipped the one off his wrist and gathered another from the package. He handed both to Nate.

Nate really was good at this. He pulled back a tight, neat ponytail, securing it in moments. Then twisted the long tail, wrapping the second around it until it was frozen in a tight knot at the nape of his neck.

Ethan tipped his head back and forth, examining his reflection. He looked awful. Worse than Nate, even.

Nate moved to the sink, scrubbing the gel from his hands in the rushing water.

"You're welcome," he smirked.

Ethan rolled his eyes.

"Can we go now?"

.

[Masterlist]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @paleassprince @jadeocean46910 @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @happy-whumper @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood )

[deadworm]

you SPOIL me. you spoil all of us really.

three scenes?? don't you have finals to get to? not that I'm complaining about this fluff

[painsandconfusion]

You're Lucky I Love You

Happy birthday, @wormwriting! Enjoy!!

(tw: yandere/creepy/intimate whumper, failed escape attempt, gun, stress position, strangulation (hanging), belting)

.

The paperclip slipped and spun between Whumpee's numb, sweaty fingers. They'd been working too long. Their vision was blurring. Tears had long streamed down their face, dried, then tracked down again as they twisted and poked the paper clip in and out of the padlock, scraping at pins.

They had no idea how much tension to put on the barrel. They had only seen this in cheap spy-movies. They never thought they'd actually get it.

But they had.

They had tinkered with the padlock that kept their ankle chained to the bedpost night after night...until tonight - when it sprang open.

Whumpee had become almost dizzy with exhaustion, no longer caring to think as their fingers raked the small piece of metal against the pins. They'd almost screamed in surprise when it clicked open.

They'd spent several minutes, staring at the glinting metal in the dark before gently brushing their fingertips against it.

It really had opened.

They pulled it off the chain and moved to the window. Where another padlock kept the pane locked against the wooden frame.

Whumpee had taken a deep breath and started again.

They were exhausted. Sweat slicked their hands and forehead. They had to stop several times to wipe their fingertips dry on their shirt. Whatever pins they'd managed to place fell back out of line, and they had to start fresh. Then again, Whumpee had no idea if they'd even put the pins in place at all. They were so out of their depth here.

Their legs trembled and ached as they stood for hours, poking at the lock. They froze as a floorboard creaked under them. Adrenaline shot down their veins, lighting every nerve and shaking them from their sleepy haze.

It was just one creak. Quiet.

It...it would be fine.

Whumpee's muscles twitched from the cold and exhaustion. Their body begged for sleep, but they wouldn't give in. What would they do? Crawl back on the bed and snap the padlock back on? Undoing a full night's work just to try again tomorrow?

Whumpee didn't have a scrap of sanity left, certainly not enough to do this again. So they picked at the lock, occasionally rattling it in frustration, jerking against the metal latch. It had to unlock. It just had to. Even if it took all night. They were leaving tonight. They'd come too far to turn back now.

Whumpee gasped as the unmistakable "click" of a lock bounced through the room. They blinked their eyes into focus, grinning at the padlock.

They'd done it. They'd really done it.

"You know that's a five meter drop, right?"

Whumper's voice was soft, but it permeated every inch the dark room, thickening the air and creeping up their skin.

Whumpee froze, hands perfectly still on the makeshift tools.

"What? Thought you could just jump? Then what? Run on a broken ankle or something?"

Whumpee's fingers slid up to the padlock, trembling. They tugged down.

It didn't move. It was still locked.

Of course they hadn't gotten it. That sound had just been Whumper unlocking their door.

Whumpee stared out the dark window. Tears filled their eyes again as they gazed up at the stars that peppered the sky in clusters of shining light. They let out a shaky exhale, squeezing their eyes shut.

Footsteps crept closer behind them until Whumper's breath brushed against the back of Whumpee's neck. Their skin tingled at its touch.

Whumpee winced as something pressed at the back of their skull.

"You really fucked up this time," Whumper murmured.

The metal pushed against their skull as a metallic 'click' vibrated through the room. Whumpee whined as it pressed them forward, their cheek shoved hard against the icy glass.

Whumpee's panting breaths fogged the window. They watched as the dark outline of trees and stars disappeared behind the creeping mist. They trembled, clutching the cool wood of the windowpane. Terror dripped through their bloodstream, locking up like wet concrete, refusing to let them even twitch, let alone squirm away.

Whumper's voice was so soft, barely brushing against their ear. "I wonder sometimes if you’re really worth the effort."

Whumpee twitched as Whumper's fingers threaded through their hair, softly petting it in soft, slow strokes.

Whumpee's lip quivered, trying to find an excuse. Anything, really.

"W...whumper, I-"

"Shh...Don't talk." Whumper pressed a warm, soft kiss under their ear. They didn't pull away, murmuring against Whumpee's neck. "Just...let me think."

Whumpee's stomach lurched. Their legs twitched, desperate to run, kick, fight, anything. Instead they stood perfectly still. Trembling, but still.

Their mind raced in the silence. Whumper didn't move. They just...held them. Breathing softly. Whumpee was sure they could feel Whumpee's heart beating frantically against their ribcage.

After an eternity of silence, broken only by Whumpee's shaky breaths, Whumper finally sighed.

"I think you're going to have to stay in my room from now on. I know we said you'd work up to it, but...I clearly can't trust you here." They leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Whumpee's jaw before pulling back.

Whumpee didn't move, counting one, two, three, four seconds of silence before the barrel of the gun finally slid up and away from their skull. "You're lucky I love you so much."

They heard it click again. A rustle of fabric as Whumper pocketed it.

A shaky breath squirmed out of Whumpee's lungs. Their shoulders sagged in relief, burning as the tension drained ever so slightly. Whumper gripped their arm, turning them.

Whumpee flinched away as Whumper's hands cupped their face, but they could only retreat so far before the cold window pressed against their shoulder blades.

Whumper's forehead pressed against theirs. Whumpee screwed their eyes shut. They tried to tuck their chin down, but Whumper's fingers guided their jaw back up, locking them in the moment.

Whumper let out a long, shaky breath.

"I'm very mad at you," they murmured, not quite a whisper. "Do you know that?"

Whumpee forced air in and out of their lungs, thick as it was. They almost gagged on it - Whumper's breath becoming their own.

"Y-yes," they whispered.

Fingers tightened on their jaw. "Yes what?"

"S-sir. Y...yes, Sir."

Whumpee's hands trembled, hovering in mid-air between them. Desperate for balance, but too afraid to touch Whumper right now.

"Good pet." Whumper's fingers eased up again, thumbs idly brushing their cheek instead. They pulled back, searching Whumpee's face. Whumper blurred in their vision until Whumpee blinked the tears away.

"Stay here." Whumper pulled back. "I'll be right back."

They stepped away.

In a moment, Whumpee was alone again in their room. The door was wide open. Whumper hadn't even bothered to close it. Weren't they afraid Whumpee would run?

They would run. Of course they would.

Except...they didn't. Their shoulders never left the frozen window. They stared through the darkness at the door. At the light spilling in from the hallway. At the one chance they had to leave.

And they didn't move.

Whumper was back in less than a minute, both hands full: A rope in their right. A belt in their left.

The air left Whumpee's lungs as they stared at the swinging leather.

Whumper flicked on the light. Whumpee blinked hard against the blinding white that filled the room. Their eyes were raw and sore, throbbing already from crying. They scrubbed tears away with their palms, but that only make the ache worse, sending jolts of electric color across their vision.

Whumper tossed the belt unceremoniously onto the bed before turning back to Whumpee. "Come here."

Whumpee froze, staring at the rope in their hands. What were they going to -

"I said come here."

Whumpee bit their lip.

"P-please Whumper. I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Don't make me say it again." Their fingers tightened around the rope. Their voice was soft, but their knuckles were white.

Whumpee sucked in a breath. They forced themselves to take a trembling step forward. Then another. They looked up.

Whumper raised an eyebrow. Not close enough.

They took one more step - until they were almost flush against Whumper's chest.

They stared at the buttons on Whumper's shirt. Just one, really. A dull, white plastic, swirling with varied translucency.

Whumper tipped their chin up with a finger, pressing harder until Whumpee reluctantly ripped their eyes from the button, forcing them to Whumper's face.

Their expression was...completely unreadable.

"You realize I have to punish you, right?"

Whumpee bit their lip. Hard. They sucked in a shaky breath and nodded slowly.

"Say it."

Whumpee closed their eyes, but Whumper pushed their chin up harder until they flittered open again. "I...d-deserve to be punished."

Whumper sighed, releasing them.

Whumpee did their best not to flinch away as the rope slithered around their neck. Whumper tied a quick, strong knot, then spun it around so it pressed against their spine.

"Get on your knees."

Still trembling, Whumpee obeyed. They couldn't think of anything else to do. The soft carpet ground against their skin. Scares on their legs tingled from when that carpet had burned them before.

"You're really lucky I love you so much," Whumper muttered to themselves as they looped the rope up, around the base of the ceiling fan.

"Sit up a little straighter." Whumpee squealed as the roped puled up at their throat. They clawed at it, working their fingers between the fiber and flesh. They pushed themselves as tall as they could without getting off their knees. It still pressed in at their windpipe. Their pulse hammered against their knuckles as they squirmed against the rope.

Whumper stepped back, glancing over Whumpee's trembling form.

"Comfy?"

Whumpee met their eyes, pleadingly silently. Not daring to put it into words.

"Good."

Whumper stepped over to the bed, picking up the belt. Whumpee's heartbeat throbbed along every inch of their skin, shivering, desperately trying to slow their frantic, erratic breaths. Their thighs were already trembling, trying to hold themselves up.

Whumper stepped up to them, folding the belt in half over their palm. “Ready?”

“Whu-mper. Please-”

Their mouth snapped shut as Whumper raised their palm. The slap rang in their ears as fire bloomed across their cheek. Whumpee sobbed as the rope cut against their throat, forcing them to stay upright, spinning hanging on it.

“A ‘yes sir’ will do.”

Whumpee gasped, tugging at the rope. Tears smeared against their knuckles as they pried it away from their windpipe again. They shuffled their knees back under them, legs somehow shaking more violently now. They forced themselves up.

They could hardly form the words as their lungs sucked in shallow, punching breaths. “Y-es. Si-sir.”

Whumper stepped behind them.

"Count for me."

Whumpee screamed as the first 'crack' rang through the room.

.

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @jadeocean46910 @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg )

[deadworm]

ALSKDKFMGKGKG that was WONDERFUL!

my brain couldn't decide if the response was whumperflies from it being so personalised, or laughter at how much you have me clocked

the perfect birthday gift, THANK you :D

[deadworm]

HAPPY FUCKIN BIRTHDAY

:DD thank you you wonderful person

[painsandconfusion]

Idk what you're planning on wishing for when you blow out the candles, but might I suggest whumperflies?

That's what I'd wish for.

[deadworm]

you and everyone else in this community have the power to make that wish come true

[deadworm]

HAPPY FUCKIN BIRTHDAY

:DD thank you you wonderful person

[saintwhumpolas]

Ho ho HAHAHAHAHA!

It’s Christmastime, whump community! And Saint Whumpolas, patron saint of whump, is looking forward to the fun! If you’re sighing at how un-whumpy the presents under your tree seem to be, if your gingerbread dungeon dreams became a plain old gingerbread house, if your stocking isn’t stuffed with hurt and maybe some comfort…then this is the event for you!

This is Saint Whumpolas’ Whumpy Secret Santa, a whump community event where whump creators anonymously gift writing/art to each other and try to guess who’s got who!

How It Works:

Step 1. Sign up for the event by December 5th

Step 2. Get assigned a fellow whump blog to make something for

Step 3. Send in your whump creation to Saint Whumpolas

Step 4. Saint Whumpolas will deliver all the presents on Christmas Eve! Try to guess which whump blog created a gift for you, and see your gift blog’s reaction to the present you made for them!

The Rules

• I’m cutting sign-ups off at midnight Mountain Time on December 5th. If we end up with an odd number of blogs, I’ll jump in to make sure everyone gets a gift- if you’d like to also volunteer to be on emergency standby instead of/in addition to signing up to make and receive a gift, let me know!

• Please don’t sign up if you can’t make something- we want everyone to get a gift!

• From December 5th on, you’ll get an ask in your inbox from this blog, letting you know who you’re making a gift for, their favorite tropes, and their dislikes/squicks- PLEASE MIND THEIR DISLIKES/SQUICKS. It will not be fun to get a triggering gift on Christmas. You don’t necessarily have to adhere to their favorite tropes, but keep them in mind as you write/draw/whatever.

• The deadline for gifts is at midnight Mountain Time on Christmas Eve. PLEASE HAVE YOUR GIFTS SENT IN BY THEN.

• Since part of the fun is going to be guessing who made each gift, please don’t post your gifts publicly! I’ll provide an email for you to send them to, and I’ll post them on this blog- the gift in your inbox will be the link to your present! (After the event is over and you’ve been guessed/revealed yourself, feel free to post your creation- gift blogs, you can absolutely reblog your gift once you’ve gotten it!)

• I’m gonna say that since this is a Christmas event, gifts must be SFW.

• I’m also gonna say that since this is my first go-round hosting an event, we’re gonna keep it to OC whumpees only for this year. It could get tricky if someone gets asked to write a fanfiction for a fandom they know nothing about, so for this year, OCs only.

• Minimum word count for writers is 500. You can go over as far as you want- I’m sure people would love to get a Lord Of The Rings-length epic in their inbox- but please have at least 500 words for your gift. I don’t know enough about art to put anything specific down for artists, but if you participate please make sure to put a little effort into your gift! (A meme you spent two minutes photoshopping, for example, does not count as a gift. Drawings, doodles, moodboards, comics- all acceptable.)

• For the first…hmm…fifty people to sign up, I will try to match you with a blog who shares your interests (that’s twenty-five pairs.) After that, it’ll be randomly assigned, just so I don’t get overwhelmed.

• Use this Google form to sign up!

Merry Christmas and happy whumping!

[a-series-of-whumpy-events-deact]

I just thought of something.

What if we did like a Whumpy Secret Santa?

This probably already exists in some form, but I’m thinking like everyone who wants to participate signs up and gets assigned the name of another blog participating. They have to go to that blog, find one of that person’s whumpees, and write something- probably just a short thing- using that whumpee. On Christmas, everyone sends each other the stories they made using each other’s whumpees. Like a big fanfiction trade or something. You have no idea who’s writing with your character, which of your characters they’ll use, what they’re gonna do- it’s one big surprise.

I’d honestly try to set this up if the thought of running that didn’t intimidate me more than is probably healthy.

[a-series-of-whumpy-events-deact]

If y’all really wanna do this I’ll set it up. I have no clue how to make a Discord, but I can do a Google form by…is the fifth good? That’ll give everyone twenty days to write/art/whatever.

[a-series-of-whumpy-events-deact]

The more I think about this, the more fun it sounds. So give me a bit, and I’ll set the whole thing up- I have a few sparkly new ideas.

[a-series-of-whumpy-events-deact]

guys I did it

here

[cyan-whump]

The whumper likes to offer the whumpee a choice about what happens to them next.

The options always follow the same pattern. One that’s degrading, humiliating, violating, but won’t do much physical damage, if any. The other one is much more brutal, likely to seriously injure or even kill whumpee.

Lick whumper’s boots, or get kicked in the stomach. A kiss, or a blow from a sledgehammer. A night in whumper’s bed, or a night tied up outside in the snow.

Of course whumpee knows which one they’re expected to pick. Of course they make the first choice every time, the one that keeps them safest, and endure whumper’s taunts - oh, again? You must really love this. You do, don’t you?

But what happens the day that they finally call whumper’s bluff? Look them in the eye, screw up the last of their courage, and take the second option?

[deadworm]

urghh this is one of my favourite forms of manipulation in whump

whumper can hold it over them that they've been so gracious to give them the option - the agency. how lucky is whumpee? things could be so much worse

and whumpee knows exactly what's happening - of course they do. but what can they do to stop it? what can they do but pick the safest option?

i also love when whumpee is given the open ended question of what their punishment should be. same sort of situation but with less resignation and more panic. there's no good outcome for them

[whump3000]

“You know, I’ve never had a whumpee as pretty as you before.” Whumper said, running a hand down the side of Whumpee’s bleeding face, their fingers stopping at the edge of their gag.

They smiled, seeing the way Whumpee struggled beneath it, desperate to say something, anything. Such a shame they couldn’t.

“It almost pains me to harm you, you know.” A smile twisted their face as they reached for their weapon.”But not quite enough for it stop me.”

[desinteresse]

I love it when characters get the ‘Im going to die here’ realization. The sexiest of angst

[friendlylocalwhumper]

three tropes i can’t stop thinking abt rn

captor wiping blood across the captive’s face humiliatingly, controllingly. gun pushed into mouth, hand gripping chin, gun cocked, whumpee flinches but tries to hold still. manhandling - shoved into the wall, pressed into the ground, dragged back when they try to crawl away, arms held down/behind them, chin grabbed and head turned, handful of hair grabbed and head forced back, shoved to the ground, led forward by hand at the back of the neck.

[deadworm]

bonus points if Captor smears the blood onto Captive directly from the knife they've been using on them. double bonus points if it's onto their mouth and they're forced to taste "how sweet" they are

also mmmmm gimme all the gun whump please