In my 'hopeful' era

The name is Ciel (20's) ᕦ⁠(⁠ò⁠⁠ó⁠ˇ⁠)⁠ᕤ and I like seeing men suffer!!! 🔥🔥🔥 (in fiction of course).

[fortunately-cool-penguin]

Hey there!

Figured it's finally time for an intro after years. (•ᴗ<˶)✧₊ ⊹

I am Ciel (he/it). I am in my 20's. I am Transmasc and AroAce. I LOVE whump! I do whump arts and promts. Currently working on my skills. Criticism and suggestions are appreciated ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

I might post or reblog nsfw stuff so be aware.

DMs and asks are open.

Fav whump tropes:

- Revenge whump

- Whumper turned Whumpee

- Older Whumpee

- Pet Whumpee

- Carewhumper

- Stoic Whumpee

Honestly I like most tropes lol

[defire]

I love platonic relationships in whump because I experience some wildly intense platonic friendship crushes.

And I like it when it's awkward (different sexes in today's culture for example), there's ptsd, or they are like, enemies to friends and are too prideful to actually get too visibly close or hug.

Because I am autistic (so it's hard to explain) and hate hugs. And touch. I would love some more representation.

[fortunately-cool-penguin]

We love each other, and we aren't even the same species! I hardly understand what he says, and he barely understands what I say. But I know that he loves me and I love him. How can I be so sure? Maybe because we like to be together so much that when we see each other after parting, our eyes light up as we close the distance. Or maybe because even when he is hungry and there is food in front of him, he chooses to wait for me to pet him before he eats; because when he was younger and very sick, he refused to eat, so I would put food in front of him as I petted him and prayed that he would start to eat. I would say something like, "You can be as naughty as you want as long as you are healthy." And now he can't eat without a pet first.

That's him btw

[fortunately-cool-penguin]

My coworker suggested I use AI to create exam questions for second-grade students. You can just Google it and find tons of existing exam questions already. No need for AI!

[justlikeotherchemists]

Team Leader saying "Leave. That's an order." hits twice as hard, when they're the kind of person who hates hiearchies and avoids giving direct commands.

[fortunately-cool-penguin]

I want structure. I want stability. I want to know what I should be doing. It feels so wrong to be jealous of the whumpees when I read pet whumpee/ bbu fics but likeee 😭😭

"It must be nice... "

[whumpdaydreamerx]

Bill Interrogated | CIA 1x08

Video is here!

[vivalaswhumpblr]

Ben Feldman + David Morse - Medium (S05E15)

[farnworths]

Coronation Street - 2017-08-21 - Part 1

[fortunately-cool-penguin]

It's hard to enjoy things in this state of the world :(

[cepheusgalaxy]

Good whump prompt but you used "he or she" so im killing you with lasers

[mid-knife-crisis]

You have to shove your whumpees to the ground on their stomach and yank their arms behind their back to tie their wrists before pulling them back to their knees with a harsh yank on their hair otherwise they're not getting proper enrichment

[sleepy-dog-boy]

I want more chronic pain whump. Give me a cocky, independent character who suddenly can’t walk because a sudden rain storm aggravated their old leg wounds and now they have to lean on a friend to get home. Give me a usually stoic character shaking with pain during a flare up. Give me a character who’s finally healed having their first bad pain day and abruptly feeling like they’re back at square one.

[inhurtandincomfort]

Forsaken: Chapter Four

Premonitions

Cw: Durgging and needle mention, just at the end of the first section. This one's more plot based!

Thuevirrau had many problems. The wispy blonde curls of a beard that barely fell to her collar was the shame of her family name. A letter addressed to a Dearest Daughter lay ignored on her dresser, smothered in the broken links of her circlet, open tomes, and scattered notes written in a frenzied, sleep deprived state that seemed complete nonsense once she was more awake.

Oh, and there was a warlock in her spare bed.

She glanced at him as she stoked the fire, another log adding a smoky scent to the room. Melanite hair framed a soft pale face, dark shadows beneath his closed eyes, one of which bore a young scar like claw marks. She found herself watching his chest for that rise and fall that took a great deal of effort, but assured her he was alive.

What she was going to do with that was yet to be decided.

"We'll all get in trouble," Ghorza had argued, when Thuevirrau had finally decided the man wasn't going to die and allowed herself to collapse into an armchair to enjoy some rose tea.

"I don't think he's going to go around telling anyone," she smoothly replied.

"You don't know that."

"He's a warlock, Ghorza. His word holds no weight to anyone."

One night dragged into the next. Now as she placed the poker back against the stone, she caught the movement from the corner of her eye. She turned to face him where he now stood, one hand grasping the bedpost in what was clearly supposed to be a casual stance, but she could see his knuckles turn white, the stiffness in his posture, the careful breathing around injured ribs. The salves she'd applied would have worn off by now. With the look he was giving her, she doubted he'd be receptive to any more. She met his eyes, like a dagger in the moonlight, waiting for her to make a move.

"Good morning," she greeted. "Or well, night I suppose. It's good to see you awake."

"Who are you?"

She inclined her head, "You may call me Thuevirrau."

"What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

She could practically see the gears turning in his head. "You didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

Thuevirrau smiled pleasantly. "You might find out afterwards."

He looked her up and down, appraising. "I've no time for your games." He raised his other hand, bandages still wrapped around his wrist. Thuevirrau waited patiently for it to to click, scanning his face. It didn't take long. It flashed across his eyes in a second, like lightning; but she saw it. Confusion, and just a little fear.

"I've put up a ward," she explained. "The only one able to use magic within its borders is me. I've no intent to harm you, but I will if I have to. All I want is for you to answer a few questions for me. Is that agreeable?"

He knew what the smart thing to do was. "Fine." He sounded like it was anything but 'fine,' but she'd take it.

She smiled brightly, "Good. You can sit down, you know. There's no need to cause yourself further grief." "Just get on with it."

"Alright, alright." She settled herself into the old armchair. "That creature you fought the other night. What do you know of it?"

"What do I- nothing." His gaze snapped to meet hers. "What do you mean the other night?"

"You fought it. Surely you can tell us something?" She drummed her fingers on the table beside her. "Friend of mine found you. You killed the beast when no one else could, and it burst into flames. We've since investigated the site, and came up empty. No ashes, no bone, or blood. Not a trace. You were the one who killed it. It's impressive. But curious."

"What do you mean, the other night?" he pressed, an edge to his voice. "How long has it been?"

"You were brought here last night. A full day has passed. Do you know where it came from?"

"No, I don't- I don't know, I don't have time for this." He stepped forward and stumbled, clinging back onto the bedpost for balance before pressing on. Thuevirrau sighed, and flicked her wrist toward the door, which instantly vanished. The warlock stopped and glared at the wall, then at her. "Really?"

"Answer a few questions. It's not that hard," she said sweetly. He scowled, looking at her like he was imagining putting his hands around her throat. No matter. She didn't need him to like her.

"Fine."

She studied him, the tension in his frame, the arms crossed protectively over his chest. "What do you know? How did you kill it?" She pressed her lips together, wondering if she should ask. She decided yes. "Did you have anything to do with it?"

He had the nerve to roll his eyes. "No, I had nothing to do it. I killed it by figuring a weak point, lucky guess. I don't know much, but I can tell you one thing. It was a creature of the abyss."

Thuevirrau couldn't stop the hitch in her breath. Suddenly the air seemed so much heavier. "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm familiar." He said it lightly, like it was a joke, like he was saying something obvious; there was also a hint of a challenge to it. "I'd have killed it a lot quicker if it was anything else. Of course, the fact that I was able to kill it at all is intriguing. It feels almost like a test. For us, or for them." He shrugged, "Or maybe it was just a fluke. You're better off taking it up with the mages in charge of the border. Looks like they need to fix the cracks."

The border between realms. Built by Naereth after the Divine War, now powerful mages, high priests and priestesses dedicate their lives to guarding it so that worlds do not cross, and although there have been a few lapses, someone or something occasionally slipping through, for the most part it's held strong. Thuevirrau nodded slowly as she considered this. There was more to this, she could tell. But he's told her all he can right now. Or all he's willing.

"Thank you, Thirteen. You've given me a lot to think about."

His eyes widened a fraction, before his expression hardened. "I didn't say anything that wasn't obvious."

"Oh, I don't mean just that. I'll be seeing more of you in the future, I think."

"What? What do you mean?"

Thuevirrau smiled. She blinked slowly, and a figure stepped out from the wall, shrouded with invisibility. Thirteen noticed, but couldn't react fast enough. The needle pierced his neck and though he struggled, he dropped within seconds.

"Take him back to the factory yard," Thuevirrau ordered, already on her way out of the room. "I need to write some letters."

"Yes, ma'am."

*+*+*

There was a disturbance in the air. Like the darkening clouds as the storm rolled in, the absence of the birds as they hide away for shelter. The deceptive lull of a calm sea, the eerie fascination as the tide pulled back only to return with a towering vengeance.

Desmeirth lit the twelfth candle, and placed their palms together. They breathed in the smoky scent, bittersweet and somehow both natural, and untouchable, twelve candles, twelve representatives, creating an air that can not be explained.

The cool stone dug into their bruised knees. It was the same old routine. One they had gone through every day for as long as they could recall. Why now, then, did it feel so heavy?

"You sense it, don't you."

Her voice came through like a crackling pyre. It wasn't a question.

Desmeirth dared not open his eyes. He bowed his head lower, long braids draping against soft robes woven from sunlight. "Divine Lady, you honour me with your presence. But I must seek your wisdom. I fear something dark is brewing where we cannot touch. Something bigger than what we've faced before."

"Indeed. The time is approaching; a time that will test the mettle and faith of man. Tell me, my champion. Do you believe you are ready?"

That was not really the answer he was expecting, but he should know better by now. Desmeirth did not miss a beat. "I am ready."

A rush of cold air brushed his face. "Your faith will be tested too," she warned. "More so than any other. This is your chance to truly prove yourself."

He couldn't help the pang of swallowed frustration. Had he not proven enough? He didn't speak it; he did not dare, but the heat from the rising flames told of her ire. She knew. Of course she did.

"You sit in a temple praying, performing rituals for the people on my behalf. Acting and speaking in my name. You've done it well, but faced no real trial. Your faith and mettle remain untested. You've spent your whole life preparing for this. It's time for it to come to fruition.

"Seimynthays' will give you your mission. Listen to her well. I will be watching you closely, Paladin of the Dawn."

Another gust of wind, and the candles all snuffed out.

"As you will it, Mother."

@floral-comet-whump @cepheusgalaxy @violets-whumperflies

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whump-till-ya-jump

@fortunately-cool-penguin @morning-star-whump @amandagn394

@whumpawaydarling @loonybun @scoundrelwithboba

@chiswhumpcorner @hueningplushie @sootheandsavage

@palinoiahart @scumashling @warmfuzz-ies

@whumpasaurus101 @weibun-art @whumpologyy

@melpomenelamusa @sirnef-fenris @deerslayer14

[fortunately-cool-penguin]

Don't look up," he commanded. "Keep your eyes on the floor. You don't need to see the man. You only need to serve him."

[vivalaswhumpblr]

Ben Feldman + David Morse - Medium (S05E15)

[inhurtandincomfort]

AITCM Day 5: Blood Stains

CW: Nightmares, hallucinations, death/child death (not real) descriptions of corpses, referenced eye whump and lots of blood. I think that's everything

"Hello?" Eldwin called, closing the front door behind him. "Mum?" Silence. "Muriel? Oli?"

A chill ran through him, the lack of response a deafening alarm in its own right. Eldwin checked the kitchen, just in case, placing a bag of cheap, past-their-best groceries on the dining table. The fire was out, the stew Muriel had promised to tend to long gone cold, the pot still full.

Panic gripped his lungs, and he raced upstairs, almost tripping in his haste, exhausted, underfed and aching but desperate. He forced himself to slow however when he stood outside the bedroom door, blood pounding, the narrow hall suffocating.

Deep breath. It's all fine. Don't freak anyone out.

Slowly, he opened the door a crack and peered inside. None of the candles were lit, and his stomach coiled in knots as he took a step inside. Suddenly time froze, his words dying in his throat.

"You did this." His mothers voice, cold, dripping with venomous loathing. Eldwin clamped a shaky hand over his mouth. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

"No," he struggled to get the simple word out. His own voice sounded like it was coming from somebody else. Echoing around the small room, coming from anywhere but himself. "I wouldn't- I couldn't-" "You couldn't save them." His mother stood in front of him, a knife clutched in her calloused hands. She was never a tall woman but now he felt so small under her glare. "You killed them. Horrible, wretched child. I should have left you to rot in that well!" The rise of her tone made the windows rattle, and the candles flared to life. Blood painted the room, corpses piled by pools red, leaking from empty eye sockets, open mouths, his father, his siblings, his sisters, his brothers drenched in blood, there was so much blood-

"It wasn't my fault," Eldwin whispered. It trickled from his fingertips, dripping onto the floor beside him, drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"All your fault," his mother said, as if repeating his words back to him. Is that what he said? It's all my fault, all my fault.

"If you were here, this wouldn't have happened." Her words cracked like thunder. "If you were better. If you were stronger. You should be dead!"

The flickering candles turned into a blaze, crawling up the blood-stained walls, engulfing the corpses and oh gods, they were screaming, he tried to go to them, control the fire, do something but he couldn't, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything-

His mother looked at him and for a split second, he foolishly thought she might help.

The blade sank into his stomach. He stared into her eyes blazing with hatred, his own wide with shock. He choked, blood spurting from his mouth and she twisted the knife before pulling it out, watching impassively as his clothes stained with crimson, leaked through his fingers pressed to the wound. He tried to speak, but he couldn't. Just stared up at her, numb to everything, he couldn't feel the pain, couldn't feel anything, his words repeating over in his mind; it's my fault.

The raging flames surrounded them, beams collapsing from the ceiling as the screaming pierced his skull, he had to help, he had to stop it, she had to stop it, they had to-

Her hand reached out, and pushed him into the inferno. It swallowed him whole, burning through him, the fire licked at her skin and she watched, expressionless as he screamed now, too, begging, pleading-

*+*+*

Eldwin shot awake, a scream dying in his throat when instincts kicked in, don't make a sound. He could feel his pulse throbbing against his skin, the blood coursing through his veins, spilling onto the concrete beneath him. Chains scraped along the ground as he brought his hand to his neck. It itched around the collar, just like the iron on his wrists leaving burns in its wake.

He was home, in his cell. The collar weighed upon his neck, pain around it, around his wrists. Home. Safe. Alive.

The only light came from down the hallway, through the barred window on the door. It wasn't much, just enough to look around and see the stone was all the same shade. So were his clothes. Nothing was wet or sticky. The blood wasn't visible, but he knew it was there. It always was, a hidden stain on his skin, leaving a trail wherever he went

His chest ached. His throat burned. His eyes were dry and he blinked, dropping his hand back to the floor. This was home. This was him, now. Everything else was gone.

The smell of smoke filled the room. The stench of burning flesh, of blood soaking through the walls, dripping down on him, pouring from him, an endless stream that could never be stopped. His mothers voice echoed around him, her face etched into his mind. Hatred, disgust. Horror.

The blood stains would follow him, wherever he'd go. He would never find another home.

@floral-comet-whump @cepheusgalaxy @violets-whumperflies

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whump-till-ya-jump

@fortunately-cool-penguin @morning-star-whump @amandagn394

@whumpawaydarling @loonybun @scoundrelwithboba

@chiswhumpcorner @hueningplushie @sootheandsavage

@palinoiahart @scumashling @warmfuzz-ies

@whumpasaurus101 @weibun-art @whumpologyy