It has been a while since I have attempted to actively post my own writing on here. But after a mostly successful NaNoWriMo attempt, and an overall increase in my whump writing, I have decided to take the leap... again. I have been a lover of whump for longer than I have known the name, and a writer of whump probably since I first started.
What you'll find here:
- vampire whump
- sibling whump
- heavy caretaking
- plenty of queer characters
- creepy/intimate whumpers
- smut
- NSFW whump
What you won't find:
- pet whump or BBU
- heavy gore
- whump without some form of caretaker
- lady whumpee/whumper
- major character death
Blog Masterlist:
A Dance of Stars and Curses- (primary WIP)
Tropes: M/M/M Relationship, two vampires and a human, fated mates, reincarnation, ex-lover whumper, NSFW whump, vampire whump, smut
Content warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, character death (with reincarnation), slavery, graphic noncon, as well as graphic consensual sex, mentions of past child abuse, general vampire whump (starvation, forced turning, hurt mates, etc.)
Synopsis:
Moments of spare happiness, that was all they had every been afforded. Oliver had not meant to fall for two human blood servants but when he rejected his noble-born mate, Merrick, it was with those two humans that he found happiness. His claim to them did not last. Merrick seeks them out and within hours takes away all that Oliver has come to call his. He forcibly changes one of his mates and places a soul-binding curse on the other. Forcing Oliver to play a cruel game in which he keeps one mate for eternity and watches the other slip through his fingers over and over by Merrick's hand.
In the present day, Oliver and his vampire mate, Leo, have made a sworn promise that when they find their mate this time, it will be the last. They will not lose their mate again. But Merrick is not ready to give up their game, even as the soul of their mate grows weaker. As Oliver and Leo race to find a way to break the soul-binding reincarnation spell on their mate and fight off Merrick, they may lose more this time than they bargained for.
Characters:
Oliver Hallowspire
Leo Hallowspire
Christopher "Kit" Riley
Merrick Nightfell
Viktor Netherlight
Ben Riley
Ezra of House Hallowspire
Althea "Thea" Hallowspire
Orion of House Hallowspire
Main Story:
Cornered in an Alley Pt.1 / Cornered in an Alley Pt. 2 / Rescued /
Teammates/Found Family witnessing Whumpee, whom they've just met, being harmed in some way and going absolutely feral in perfect unison without even having to think twice about it
Mental control Whumper who, in a fight against Caretaker, possesses Whumpee's body and mocks them with it.
Whumpee's normally subdued and gentle expressions are twisted into mischievous grins and cackling laughter as Whumper dances around Caretaker with glee.
"I should've done this sooner!"
They're freely swinging their weapon at Caretaker, knowing Caretaker can't do anything to fight back for fear of hurting Whumpee's body.
The one time Caretaker instinctively deflects an attack, their blade slashes into a Whumpee that Whumper had pushed back into consciousness. Whumpee cries out and Caretaker's face pales as they stare at Whumpee's blood splattered onto them, when they realise what they've done.
"Oh dear, Whumpee.. Seems like you aren't that precious afterall. Pfft."
"Give me another chance." | Trapped | Misunderstanding | Deception
CW: noncon touch (non-sexual), intimate/obsessive villain, injury, threats, established history between characters
@juneofdoom
*~*~*~*
There was nowhere left to run; the alley ended in brick, and Villain blocked the exit with infuriating ease.
âGo on,â Villain said, spreading their arms slightly and smiling mockingly. âTry.â
The bait was obvious. They both knew it.Â
Hero still lunged sideways anyway.
Villain's arm snaked around their waist before they'd made it two steps, dragging them effortlessly back into reach. A harsh shove next and Hero was sent crashing into the brick wall hard enough for stars to burst across their vision.
Before they could recover, Villainâs hand slammed beside their head, caging them in.
Hero sucked in a rattling breath.
Villain stood too close for comfort now. Rain clung to their lashes. Hero could smell smoke and steel and the faint copper tang of blood.
âYou know,â Villain said thoughtfully, âI was actually starting to feel insulted.â
âAll that running.â Villain clutched at their chest in mock offence, wearing the smile of someone thoroughly enjoying their own performance. âAfter everything weâve been through?â
Hero shoved at them.
Villain's hand closed around their wrist.
Hero jerked back. The grip didn't budge.
Without looking away, Villain lifted their captured hand and pressed their palm to their own cheek.
Hero tried to pull free.
Villain's fingers tightened.
"See?" they said softly. "Was that so difficult?"
Hero yanked uselessly against their grip. âLet go!â
âBut youâve finally stopped pretending.â Villain practically purred, tightening their hold just enough to make Hero wince. âIâve been waiting all night for this part.â
Hero hated the way their breathing hitched.
Hated that Villain heard it too.
The alley felt unbearably narrow now. Villain seemed to fill it entirely, leaving Hero nowhere to look but at them. Hero couldnât think around them properly when they got like thisâsoft-voiced and intent and terrifyingly patient.
Villain leaned closer. âTell me something,â they murmured. âWhen did you realise you werenât winning?â
Hero glared at them silently.
Villain smiled again. âWas it when I dislocated your shoulder?â They brushed their fingers lightly against Heroâs arm and Hero flinched violently before they could stop themselves. Villainâs expression sharpened with delight. âNo, wait. That was later.â
âGo to hell.â
âThatâs not an answer.â
Heroâs knees nearly buckled as another wave of dizziness rolled through them. Villainâs grip steadied automatically at their waist before they could fall properly.
Hero scowled. The bastard was right, but they didnât have to rub it in!
âAnd yet,â the bastard Villain continued anyway, voice deceptively soft, âyouâre still trying so hard not to beg.â
Hero stiffened.
A slow smile spread across Villainâs face, sharp with satisfaction.
âOh, you hate that word, donât you?â
Heroâs face burned with anger despite the cold rain. âIâm not begging you for shit.â
âNo?â Villain asked mildly.
Their hand slid up slowly, fingers curling around Heroâs throat. Not squeezing yet, just resting there possessively enough to make Heroâs pulse jump beneath their palm.
âYou always sound so pretty when youâre desperate.â
Heroâs stomach dropped.
âDonâtââ
âDo you remember last winter?â Villain interrupted, malice dancing across their face. âWarehouse district. You had a collapsed lung.â Their thumb brushed lightly against Heroâs pulse. âYou could barely breathe. Kept looking at me like you thought I might actually let you die.â
Hero looked away.
Villain caught their jaw immediately and forced them back.
âAh-ah. Stay with me.â
Their voice had gone warm now. Interested.
âYou said please six times that night.â
Heroâs face twisted with humiliation. âShut up.â
âAnd then,â Villain continued like they hadnât spoken, âyou grabbed my coat and saidââ
âI said shut up.â
ââPlease donât leave me here!ââ
Hero shoved at them again, weaker this time. More irrational than forceful.
Villain barely moved.
âOh, that hit a nerve.â Villain sounded delighted. âYou remember.â
Hero wished they didnât.
Villain watched the shame crawl slowly across their expression and looked damn near reverent about it.
âThatâs the thing about you,â they murmured. âYou act so righteous until youâre cornered.â Their grip tightened slightly against Heroâs throat. âThen suddenly you remember how badly you donât want to die.â
Heroâs breathing had gone uneven now. They could hear it themselves. Fast and shallow and humiliatingly frightened.
Villain could definitely hear it too.
They leaned closer still. âGo on.â
Hero stared at them.
âAsk nicely.â
âNo,â Hero said too quickly.
Villainâs smile turned vicious.
âOh, that was pathetic.â
Heroâs chest tightened painfully.
They hated this.
Hated how Villain could peel them apart piece by piece until there was nothing left except raw fear and instinct and the desperate need to get out.
Villain studied them for another long moment before sighing softly.
âYou know,â they said, âI was going to break your ribs.â
Hero looked up sharply at that. Villain, meanwhile, appeared far more interested in tracing the line of their throat.
âBut now Iâm reconsidering.â Their thumb traced Heroâs pulse again. âBecause this is much more entertaining.â
Hero swallowed against the hand at their throat.
Villain watched the movement with open interest.
"Go on," Villain said quietly. "You already know what I'm asking for."
Hero closed their eyes.
The rain continued to fall. Their shoulder hurt. Their legs hurt. Everything hurt. Standing felt difficult. Thinking felt difficult. Villain's voice seemed to fill the entire alley, leaving no room for anything else.
âPlease,â Hero said finally, the word scraping out broken and quiet.
Villain closed their eyes briefly like they were savouring it.
Hero immediately hated themselves for saying it.
Villain looked positively euphoric.Â
âAgain.â
Heroâs face burned.
â...Donât do this.â
âThatâs not what I asked.â
The rain hammered against the alley around them. Somewhere far away, sirens wailed faintly through the city.
Heroâs legs shook harder.
Villain waited patiently.
They knew theyâd win this eventually.
The absolute certainty of it was unbearable. Hero looked away first.
âPlease,â they whispered again, voice breaking. âJustâgive me another chance.â
Villain went still for half a heartbeat.
Then they laughed softly, the sound warm with genuine pleasure.âGod,â they murmured. âI could listen to that for hours.â
*~*~*~*
Scribbled this in the dead of night under circumstances that my lawyer has advised me not to discuss đĄđ€ am gonna whack him with his damn hammer
this was supposed to be June of Doom #3, but according to several unreliable sources, including "the date," it is June 7.
We are ignoring this. Anyone attempting to inform me that a week of June has already passed will be launched directly into the sun.
it all leads back to that glowing bastard eventually
General taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed! <333): @stars-hide-our-fires
A noble whumpee, after having been held captive and tortured by whumper and then saved, recovers and faces whumper in a fair fight. Whumpee defeats them with no difficulty. Whumper is lying on the ground, whumpee stepping on their chest holding their weapon to whumperâs throat. They have to kill whumper for the cause, not out of revenge. But they canât bring themselves to do it, because they donât believe it right to kill another human being. They are not afraid, they do not pity whumper â they simply donât have so much bitterness inside them as to go against all their beliefs. They hesitate, putting themselves in great danger.
And thatâs when caretaker suddenly steps in to make that final blow. And they donât do it for the cause, no, they donât care about the cause. They do it out of pure revenge for everything that whumpee has suffered.
Two Caretakers overhear a scuffle coming from the bathrooms. Some sort of fight?
They rush in to find Whumpee being beaten and raped by Whumper.
But instead of Whumpee fighting back - of which there are obvious signs they were doing - now they just have a blank stare.
Theyâve dissociated; mentally gone somewhere else, somewhere safer, despite the horrors still being inflicted upon them and their blood that theyâre now lying in.
The Caretakers donât hesitate to stop Whumperâs attack, but serious damage has already been done, and not only physically.
âSir. You are exhibiting persistent, high-frequency caretaking behaviors toward younger, smaller, emotionally dependent team members with a history of attachment needs and a desire for proximity.â
âAre you diagnosing me with parental instinct?â
âYes.â
âI reject your theory.â
âYou canât just opt out. Thatâs not how parenthood works.â
âNeither is being diagnosed with it! Theyâe more like parasites I canât get rid off!â
âDo you typically make lunch boxes for parasites and tuck them into bed?â
Using gun but without shooting it. It's a intimidating factor and a possibility. In extreme case it can be shot to a non vital part,
But what's more fun is:
Punch to the jaw while holding the gun: classic trail of blood down the forehead.
Shoving the gun in whumpee's mouth: what's a better way to silence a talkative whumpee.
Guiding whumpee's face up with it: To see what's deep rooted in thier eyes, Fear or defiance?
Pressing it into their back: Or their side, while whumpee is unaware of what they are going to get into. The bruising pressure against their bone, guiding them.
Choking them with it
Hitting the wrist with it: perhaps to make whumpee drop thier own weapon
And one different trope that those above,
Keeping it trained on someone Whumpee cares about: can whumpee call the bluff? Will whumper actually go to the lengths and shoot? Kill? Or hurt "loves one" ? Should they lunge for whumper's gun?
Aaaaaaaa Iâm bored and I saw you wanted asks soooooo idk how much of a fan of hurt/comfort you are but could you maybe do noncon (you know what I mean) aftermath (if youâre comfortable lol TvT) but with Caretaker? You could do after captivity or both being together during captivity you choose⊠Iâm also a sucker for panic attacks but idk man I hope thatâs not too much to ask I donât usually send asks to people đ thx <3
Sorry this sat in my inbox for a bit. I had to wait until I was in the right mood for something really heavy like this.
I took a little creative liberty in honor of my shower scene post getting over 2000 (!!!) notes.
TW: NC/SA Recovery
There will be allusions to SA and NC as well as depictions of dissociation.
Proceed with caution.
Characters: Whumpee and Caretaker
Whumpee braced their hand against the tile, feeling the water pelt down onto their bare back. The water pressure here was good, almost too much but that's what Whumpee wanted.
Their eyes seemed vacant and far away, not focusing on anything as they stared at the plain white tile in front of them. Steam rose around their body and fogged the glass. Their skin burned underneath the scalding hot water.
The only sensation Whumpee registered was the feeling of water running through their hair and across their scalp. It trickled and ran in multiple streams down their face: skating off eyebrows, following the crook of their nose, and even running over their parted lips as they panted for breath.
The heat made it hard to breathe and Whumpee felt the familiar pull of gravity dangerously sway them. They sat down. They had no choice but to sit down if they wanted to avoid hitting the floor of the shower and scaring Caretaker into checking on them.
No, they needed this time right now. Tucking their knees under their chin, they wrapped their arms around their shins in a tight hug.
Everything felt dirty. Filthy. Wrong.
Whumpee didn't know how long they sat there while their brain clearly took a break somewhere else, but when they could finally move and think again, the memories were too much.
Ghosts of touches on their skin burned worse than the steaming hot water and Whumpee's hands couldn't scrub the sensation away. They could even still feel that horrible wet texture in the folds of their flesh, even though their hands confirmed it was gone. They were clean.
But they didn't feel clean.
It took seeing the beading blood being washed away under the showerhead for Whumpee to realize they'd been scrubbing too hard. Their skin was raw and irritated, burning even more now.
A shaking hand finally reached up and turned off the water. They sat in the cold at the bottom of the shower for another few minutes, lamenting the loss of its grounding sensation, before finally standing and wrapping themselves in a towel.
A knock on the door startled them out of their spiraling thoughts as they stared at their reflection in the mirror. Was that really them? Did that body belong to them?
"You alright, Whumpee?" Caretaker's voice asked through the wood. "I've... made some food if you're hungry. Just help yourself whenever, okay?"
Whumpee stared at the door, unable to respond as their voice failed to manifest a simple 'thank you.'
They nodded, despite Caretaker not being able to see them. They could hear footsteps leave the room after a brief pause to listen for movement.
Whumpee dropped the towel and turned away from the mirror, not wanting to see themselves fully. They pulled on the clothes Caretaker had left for them. They were Caretaker's clothes and didn't fit quite right, but we're comfortable at the very least.
Sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt provided plenty of coverage for Whumpee to feel secure. Protected, even. It was a clear conscious decision on Caretaker's part and that made Whumpee's stomach lurch.
Caretaker knew. Whumpee knew that Caretaker knew, but seeing them make decisions like offering plenty of personal space and modest clothing... Whumpee didn't want Caretaker thinking about that. They didn't want Caretaker thinking about them like that.
When the bathroom door finally opened, steam wafted out and Whumpee padded in their thick socks toward the apartment's kitchen where they could smell the food Caretaker had mentioned. Their stomach growled despite the sour feeling sitting like a pit in their gut.
Caretaker sat on the couch. The open concept left plenty of room to see the other parts of the flat from pretty much anywhere. It was both comforting and overwhelming to be able to see but also been seen.
Caretaker turned over their shoulder to see Whumpee emerge from the hallway and offered a smile that crinkled their eyes as they pointed at the kitchen.
"The food is on the stove and water bottles on the counter. If you need anything else just let me know."
Their tone was gentle but not overly delicate. It almost shocked Whumpee out of their hole of self-pity. Right. There was a whole world outside while Whumpees crumbled internally.
They just nodded silently and entered the kitchen. Dishes were already laid out on the counter to use. It made things easier and less awkward. Whumpee appreciated the gesture and soon found themselves sitting on the opposite side of the couch from Caretaker.
The distance between them felt enormous, especially given how aware they both were of Whumpee's previous condition. When Caretaker found them... It was an image neither could get out of their head for varying reasons.
They both ate in near-silence with only the sound of the television filling the air until their dishes sat on the coffee table and the movie's credits rolled.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Caretaker asked carefully. It felt like a stupid question but they didn't know how else to start a conversation. Ignoring it felt wrong.
Whumpee couldn't make eye contact but shook their head in response. "No. Not really."
Caretaker's eyes finally wandered over Whumpee and inspected them as they were turned away. They could see dots of blood staining the fabric of their shirt and sticking it to their skin. They frowned.
"You're bleeding," they observed, scooting toward them on the couch. Their hands reached out but paused before making contact. "May I?"
Whumpee blinked in shock as they tried to register the request, their eyes following Caretaker's down to their arms.
"Uh... Um, sure," they stuttered out.
Caretaker smiled gently again and carefully pulled back one of Whumpee's sleeves. They pouted at the sight of their raw skin.
"You scrubbed yourself half to death."
"And yet I can still feel them."
Caretaker finally looked up at Whumpee's eyes and saw the tears brimming there.
"Oh, Whumpee," they lamented. "Come here."
Caretaker held out their arms in a welcoming gesture. Whumpee stared, expecting them to pull them into a hug but they stayed put. They were waiting for Whumpee to make the move.
And so they did. Whumpee collapsed into their friend's arms and bawled now that the dam had broken.
Caretaker held them firmly against their chest, uncaring of their shirt getting wet with tears. Their thumbs gently stroked the side of their arms in an attempt to ground and comfort Whumpee who eventually found enough energy to draw in a deep and shaky breath.
"That's it, let it out. You're safe. You're safe," cooed Caretaker. "No one else is going to hurt you, okay? I'm here and I'll be here, okay? I'll make sure you're safe and when I find that bastard I'll make sure they'll never do it again."
Storms/Cave in/"Look out!"; Military whump/Fantasy whump/"No."
<- Previous Masterlist Next ->
Caretaker wandered into the abandoned warehouse, alone, like the note said. They were nervous, not just for themselves, but for whatever state they might find Whumpee in. They paused, hearing some muffled yells from around the corner. There was no thinking; they just ran.Â
Bursting into the room, Caretaker spotted the suspended cage, as well as the figure trapped inside. âWhumpee!â they yelled, running up.
âDonât worry, Iâll get you down.â Caretaker glanced around, trying to find a way to lower Whumpee down. The muffled screaming just got louder, as if Caretakerâs very presence was killing them.Â
Caretaker was able to figure out the machine controls and lowered Whumpeeâs cage to the ground. They flipped the latch open and pulled Whumpee out, but Whumpee still wouldnât stop screaming, looking around wildly.Â
âItâs ok, itâs ok. Here,â Caretaker soothed, reaching out to remove the gag. As they pulled it down Whumpee spat out a wad of cloth before yelling âLook out!âÂ
Caretaker only had a moment to be confused before being struck in the back of the head. The last thing they saw before succumbing to the darkness was Whumpeeâs terrified face.Â
~~~~~
âNo. No, no, no, Caretaker!â Whumpee fought against their bindings, trying to reach Caretaker before they crumbled to the floor. Instead, Whumper caught Caretaker, holding them gently before shoving Whumpee towards the ground.Â
âCongratulations.â Whumper actually smiled towards Whumpee, Caretakerâs unconscious body still cradled in their arms. âYou played your part perfectly.âÂ
âY-you said you wouldnât hurt them!âÂ
âTheyâre not hurt. Theyâre just resting.â Whumper swooped Caretaker up into a bridal carry. âIâm going to make them comfortable. Iâll be back for you later.âÂ
Watching Whumper carry Caretaker away, Whumpee couldnât decide what was worse: knowing that they were the reason Caretaker was captured, or knowing there was nothing they could do to stop it from happening.Â
Um. Iâm not really asking for a prompt? But in your recent post about being used as bait, you said âdonât get me started on the noncon aspect of this- iâm just kidding do get me started.â So would you perhaps like to talk about noncon and being used as bait?
EEEHEHE yes I did...
Noncon + used as bait!
Content: noncon touch, sex objects, implied noncon, beatings, on camera, pre-traumatized victim
Pulling their shirt over their head, fingers tracing over the victim's heaving chest, stimulating them and forcing tears to captive's eyes as they try not to feel.
Setting up a camera in front of the captive. But then they start setting out tools. Not torture tools. Sex toys. And the captive finds their heart hammering and skipping as they realize they can no longer look their captors in the eyes. They realize what's coming.
"Tell me. What will it take to bring team leader?" "Leader knows I can take whatever you throw at me." "Oh really... Can you take this?" Holds up something that makes the captive's stomach twist into nausea.
When beating them up didn't work. The team still isn't showing up and the captors are running out of time. So the leader starts touching the captive in front of the camera.
Captor laughing as their fingers dig under the victim's waistband. "How far are they going to let me take this? Some team. I don't think they deserve your loyalty."
Until it gets to the point where the captive is stifling sobs. "Not in front of them, I beg you!"
When the captor is also a sadist and picks up on whumpee's terror every time they are touched for a moment too long. This isn't the first time it's happened to them.
"Come ere. Calm down. Yes, I'm gonna touch you. Hold still or I'll make you hold still."
Captive staring ahead, pupils dilated, eyes dark as their body is yanked side to side by their captor cutting and yanking their clothes away off their body.
"If you try to resist, I'll turn on the camera for this."
Characters that are gravely and shamefully convinced that they are dangerous, able to kill, have no control of their power, that would rather die than injure someone close to them. Characters that yell and scream and scramble to back away, throwing their hands up and crying 'Please, stay back, I don't want to hurt you.' Characters that think they are nothing but a loose cannon, a loaded gun, a ticking time bomb.
yes yes, caretaker holding whumpee of their own volition is good⊠but have you considered whumpee climbing into caretakerâs arms/lap unprompted?
whatâs the situation? have they just gotten rescued? are they dying? touch starved? or maybe just tired, and want a safe place to rest? or all of the above?
is it a leap? are they desperately crawling into caretakerâs embrace, trying to get as close as possible? or is it cautious, like theyâre scared caretaker will say no? or is it arduousâ maybe theyâre weak from fatigue or injuries or blood loss, and it takes a lot of effort for them to make the movements.
how does caretaker react? are they surprised? displeased? maybe theyâre overjoyed that whumpee trusts them enough to do this. or, just maybe, thereâs a bittersweetness to it, because itâs a goodbye (death or otherwise).
Aimless Whumper @elisabethrosewrites - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag