LARP Whump

Whumps Born from Roleplay! Prosthetics, Acting, Original Art, Stories, Photos, Gifs, Prompts, and more! 

[larpwhump]

James Dire poisoned a townie, and went in for questioning along with several other suspects. He lied his way through interrogations successfully - but eventually the truth always comes out. Haywyre didn't care for being lied to. Oops.

[callaei-researches]

Update on the finished research project:

For anyone who may be concerned that whump / whump interest / hurt/comfort isn't a good topic to pursue in academic research:

Here be some blurry screenshots of me receiving the "Undergraduate Research Award" at the IPU New Zealand graduation ceremony yesterday (I'm graduating yet, after summer semester finishes in March!)

We matter, our whump interest matters, and it's worth discussing the diversity and dynamics of whump interest we experience. It's valid and deserves a place in academia.

I'd love for this research to encourage more studies on whump, whump interest, whump community, whump and hurt/comfort genre etc. in academia! (I know I'm keen to take this research further!! >:D ✨)

Thank you again to all the whump interested people and participants in the survey who made this research project viable!! 🎉

Reminder: The full research project will be made available online for public access on IPU New Zealand library catalogue in 2022

[larpwhump]

I adore this.

[larpwhump]

Oh look a new oc. This is Braiden of Rion. His FC is daniel sheehan and his 6'5" of divinely chosen royalty. But as is the story with all my guys... SUCKS TO BE YOU DUDE!

[larpwhump]

[larpwhump]

🤗

Oh hello.

[larpwhump]

warning! fake blood!!!!Welp. he is who he is... James Noah Dire - Patron Saint of Agony

Whumped One (@whumpedone) has created a short video on TikTok with music original sound. | warning! fake blood!!!!Welp. he is who he is... James Noah Dire - Patron Saint of Agony | and the Lord said, "Be an agent of good, lest one shall descend upon you... | ...with a thousand daggers of WRATH!" | But alas, some require... | ...

Hey Guys! My OC is getting whumped on tiktok! Check it out!!

[larpwhump]

A Hungry Whumpee

Anxiety and a rumbling stomach will drive a malnourished whumpee to some desperate measures. When they arent sure when or if they'll get another meal what would they do?

-Daydream about their favorite meals from back home?

-Spend time pondering if they would have the will to eat something horrific?

-Break down and eat the ants or roaches that skitter around their cell floor?

-Construct a trap to catch the rat that teases them every night?

-What about the flies attracted by their fearful sweat?

(TW stuff is about to get gruesome)

-Hungry enough to eat maggots squirming in infected wounds?

-If they vomit... can they muster a second chance at digestion?

-Would they eat their own fingers?

-Pluck their wings to dare a few bites?

-Their captor's cat has befriended them. The tabby is adorable... but how hungry are they?

Being starved and tortured is a hard thing to recover from, but recovering from their own acts of desperation is a monumental opportunity for character development.

[maniacal-ramblings]

When you’re creating a new OC and you can already hear them getting mad at you. 

[larpwhump]

My OCs would have a much better time if they could figure out how to kill me in my sleep. I also want an Epitaph that says “I may be dead, but I’m so glad I’m not James Dire”

[maniacal-ramblings]

Bad Caretakers

Lately I have really loved the idea of whumpy caretakers. People who aren’t evil, they wouldn’t intentionally hurt the whumpee, but just that asshole character who is a little twisted in the way they enjoy messing with the whumpee. 

Caretakers who intentionally abuse the whumpee’s conditioning. Having them clean or do chores. Or take their money/things because the whumpee can’t say no. When they are confronted by other teammates-  “Hey, they said they didn’t mind!” “They enjoy helping.” “They said I could have it.”

Messing with their conditioned responses. Coming up behind them to watch them jump, even though their teammates said not to scare them. “I didn’t do it on purpose, they are just jumpy!” 

Every now and then slip in a trigger word just to watch the whumpee’s eyes go wide, watch them start to stutter and panic. Say they just “forgot” they shouldn’t use that word. 

Neglectful with their care, not giving them food or medical care because the whumpee wouldn’t outright ask for it. “They said they weren’t hungry.” “They said it didn’t hurt.” “They never told me they wanted something to drink! What am I, a mind reader?” 

Being too handsy and personal with the whumpee. Throwing an arm over their shoulders, ruffling their hair, slapping their butt, moving too quickly, especially their hands as if they are going to hit them, just to laugh when they flinch or tremble at some ‘harmless contact’. 

They never get what the big deal is. Always annoyed at their teammates for doting on the whumpee. Whatever happened wasn’t that bad. They just need to get over it. 

Until one day they end up captured by the whumper. They don’t just see or hear about, but experience out exactly what they went through. Maybe they and whumpee get captured together. Maybe whumpee helps them survive, takes punishments for them because they know how to handle it. When its all over, they can’t apologize enough. They always thought whumpee was weak and now they realize they were the strongest out of all of them. Their team doesn’t know what happen, but the two of them are inseparable now. 

[larpwhump]

Saving Bambi

@highheelsinblood​ and I RP a couple of OCs... Here is some canon RP that happened in FB messenger. Its a little choppy to read because it was back and forth while we both worked our day-jobs. This is not a masterpiece written by a single writer. Its an Excerpt from a scene. This deserves a bunch of content warnings but its mostly psychological, emotional and physical abuse/torture.  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She goes downstairs towards the kitchen, and James can hear soft, whimpering prayers in a woman's voice, begging for mercy. Lizzy walks in behind the cowering Rover. "Grab her, Noah,” she orders, still using his middle name as his first. He stands there, processing He had already eaten. She's so young and innocent. she’s not running or fighting. . .  just praying. Lizzy side eyes him, lets go of his hand, and leans over to whisper, "If you want that collar off in the next month, you'll grab her." James groans audibly and stiffens a moment in thought. "I’m sorry," he whispers to the young lady as he grabs her firmly by her forearms. He lifts her from her crouched position, holding her firm to try to keep her from struggling too much. She's only crying now, James catches the end of her prayer to the Lord Commander as she's pulled to her feet. Lizzy's got a knife out, and approaches them both. "Chin up, darling,” she coos to the freckled woman. “At least you're not being eaten alive. "Eliz. . . ELizabeth. . . ." he stammers as he catches the end of her prayer. “We . . . I. . .  She’s of my faith." He passes truly pathetic and concerned eyes back and forth between the women. Elizabeth just stares at him. "What do I care?" Her hand twitches, and her knife flies across the woman's throat. The brown-haired woman gasps, leans against James before collapsing to the floor, choking on her own blood for air. "NO!" James howls as he sees the blood. "Please! Elizabeth help her! Please! I’ll wear the collar! I'll bleed for her! Let me bleed for her Elizabeth, please!" He lays the girl down so he can apply pressure to her neck wound. He can first aid her with the collar on, but that is the extent of his capacity while this horrible “tourniquet” cuts him off from his divinity. "Please God. . .  I. . . " She's still alive, choking, blood is bubbling up from her wound, she's grabbing at Dire with tiny, desperate fingers, begging with her big doe eyes for help. She can't be older than Hope. "Would you have cared if she was Darwin? Seasons? Faithless?" Lizzy kicks James in the head, hard. James falls sideways with the hard kick, it knocks him into a slight daze, interrupting the aid he was trying to give the girl. However, he just scrambles back up to try and help her again, shaking. "No. I wouldn’t have. . .  I wouldn’t have cared. But I’m a priest, Elizabeth. And a Nation. She’s my responsibility!" "No, she's not." Lizzy grabs him by the edge of the collar and drags him back away from her, out of reach. She can feel the spikes inside the collar twisting inside the muscles of his neck as she pulls. He howls in emotional agony. He tries to claw back to the Rover. "Elizabeth! Please! I’ll bleed for her! Let me save her!” Lizzy pulls on his collar again, and forces him to look up at her, green eyes to empty ones. "You forget who you belong to, pet. Remind me." James scowls at her. His fear turning to anger. He was mad at her. "Does she DESERVE this, Gatekeeper?” "She might,” she says without flinching at his snarls. “You don't know. But she's a witness." He’s still pissed. "Fix. Her." She's grinning down at him as he tries to make demands of her, hovering within headbutt distance of his face. "Are you bartering?" "No. I’m not. Fix her! Now!" It's a flashback? He hasn’t been demanding in the 50 or so weeks he's been there. He's been so subservient, worried about his own hide and religious experience. Worried about Elizabeth and her well being. . .  but not now. He was obviously ready to be a shit. There’s a moment of silence as Bambi continues to struggle to hang onto her life. ". . .  You'll owe me. Are you ready to accept that?" He doesn’t hesitate. "Yes." Lizzy undoes the pin, and releases the collar off him without mercy for his wounds. "Fix her yourself," she says, letting the spiked collar swing in her red fingers. Removing of the collar used to put him under for minutes. But these days it’s turned more into a blinding head pain. His vision is flooded with white hot searing agony. He screams as he’s freed. Blood spurts in tiny streams down his neck chest and back.  He scrambles to the rover, crawling and nearly blinded in his pain. He had lost track of time. James wasn't sure if he had time for first aid. He needed to call her.  His vision and mind slowly returned. Blood dripped from him and onto the young Fallow. He had a feeling if he called, he may not be allowed to pray afterwards. He hoped it wasn't true. "If it is the Lord’s will, you shall be healed" A floodgate's worth of white static flows out of his hands, over her body, her neck. It stitches closed her skin, returns to the color it was. She starts to hyperventilate from the shock of it all, but she's alive. She clings onto his pant legs, crying, thanking God for him. He pulls her to him. Embracing her as she sobs. "I’m sorry, child. The Lord sees you. The Lord loves you." He only gets a moment before Lizzy speaks again. "Come here, child." Lizzy's voice is cold, even. James doesn't let go. He's scared. The Rover doesn't want to let go, but she does stand up, shaking more than a newborn fawn, holding onto James. "You realize how lucky you are?” Elizabeth coos at her as she shakes. “A Priest of your God was here. He's going to suffer greatly for what he did." The Rover hasn't stopped crying. "Now, go upstairs and clean up. If you run, you'll regret it. If you try to hurt me, you'll regret it. You'll have money each week for doing as I say, without question or comment. Understand, child?" ”. . .  Bambi. "Lizzy cocks her head to the side. "Is that your name? Bambi?" "Yes, mi-miss." "Fine. Bambi, go clean. Say goodbye to your Priest." James hugs the young Fallow almost immediately, trying to shield Bambi from Lizzy’s cold rage. "If you don't cause trouble, Bambi, everything will be okay.” She nods, trying to smile for him; there's still so much blood on her. "Move it," Lizzy snaps at James’ back. Bambi reluctantly leaves, going back upstairs, hugging her blood-soaked clothes. Lizzy watches her go, and then turns to look at James. "There's a bonesaw in this kitchen. Find it." He nods, his air of submission returning. He begins by scanning with his eyes. Making sure it's not just sitting out. Then he moves, opening drawers and cabinets. It's not hiding from him - it's tucked in with a bunch of other kitchen knives. It's seen better days, but the blade is still sharp. He imagined all the harm that could be done with a simple saw. He was tired but he feared he’d earned no rest. James grabs the bonesaw, turns, and returns to his captor. She takes it from him, pushing him back towards the table, where remnants of cake and ice cream still rest. Putting her hand on the back of his head, she smashes him into the wood, knocking the food off the table. "Errrhmgh." He moans as he leans to one side. His wings flap out as his knees threaten to give way. Wobbling from pain, his head felt like it was splitting. She pulls his head back, and clamps the collar back around his neck, forcefully. Spikes slide into the meat of his neck, two large ones pinching against his spine. "I don't want you to fix what I'm about to do to you." Lizzy hisses in his ear, and she slams his head on the table again. His eyes widen with fear and confusion as she locks it on again. The previous holes from the spikes still faintly trickling as the flesh is ripped again. He wails from the pain but only for a moment before his head is slammed a second time. James consciousness fluttered as his upper body rested against the table. His vision blurred and darkness crept in from the corners. Once he settles, Lizzy pulls out the bonesaw, and grabs his wing at the base, yanking on it hard, nails digging in. He moved with her force, clinging to the table edge. He lies tense, his forehead resting against the wood."Honestly, you don't really need these if you're going to act in your best interest over your Gatekeeper's." He speaks between sobs as he feels her manhandling his new appendage. "You, you think that’s what happened?" His head feels like it was crammed full of broken glass. It felt like splitting and cutting when he moved his eyes. His vision still wobbling, threatening to make him motion sick. He slams his eyes shut. Trying to ease his symptoms. "You have a different viewpoint?" She starts to saw into the fragile bones of his wings, feeling them crack and splinter under her fingers. His feet begin flail as gives her short yelps of pain and groaning between long bouts of held breath. He speaks but the tone sounds like begging. "You weren't sure if she deserved it! I wanted to protect us all. Please Elizabeth, I just didn’t want you to kill a Fallow! " More shock and pain floods his voice "You’re doing God’s work!" Elizabeth has nothing to say to James as he screams and hollers. Wings are delicate, and she finally starts to rips one away, pulling flesh and muscle with it as she tears the wing free. Long tendons pull free as she yanks on his wing. It feels like the tendril of white fiber was pulled from deep in his back muscles. Horrific pain had him arching and wincing, But she was only half done. The wing flops onto the floor, where Bambi's blood was starting to dry, and Lizzy leans over James to speak in his ear. James' eyes well. He doesn't know if the severing hurts more, or the intent. She was so upset with him. She thought him undeserving of his blessing. Perhaps he was. Mostly he credited this mess to his behavior in regard to Credence, Bambi’s previous employer. If he had just stopped. . .  there would be no crime. no witness. no corpse in the dining room upstairs. "Consider this the beginning of your penance to me," Elizabeth whispers, showing the bloody saw in her hand. His face crunches up in fear and pain as she comes close to his face, He leans his head away, trying not to sob at her. "I'm sorry I killed Creedence, Gatekeeper! I'm Sorry!" He blubbers "I shall repent. Take penance from my flesh!" His voice is hitched and wet. Elizabeth scoffs at him. "Credence was a dead man as soon as he pulled a gun on me. That's not your sin, James." The saw makes one long, agonizingly slow stroke across his other wing. "You're pathetic." The chatter of the saw's teeth against his hollow bone is so different than how it felt on his other bones. He could feel them splintering. When the blade makes a crack in the bone, he can feel the fracture spread up his wing like breaking glass.The crunching and cutting has him squirming. he can’t hold still for her, and James tries to plea instead. "I don't understand Gatekeeper! Please! She's of my faith, I can't abandon her! It's in my blood!” "Some stranger prays to your God and she's suddenly more important than me,” Elizabeth hisses. “I understand, Dire. I fucking understand." She saws again, and again, ripping serrated blade through flesh and bone, tearing it away from his body. His scream sound more like sobs as he curls up, his second wing ripping away slowly. He doesn't know what to do with his hands so he puts one gently against her without looking. Hes feeling her with tense fingers, occasionally griping at clothes, releasing and moving elsewhere to pat at her. "I'm sorry! I understand! I understand now, Gatekeeper!" His head still wanted to explode, the pain pressing hard inside his skull. His back was soaked in his own blood, warm and slippery. "Allow me to correct this!" He's desperate. He doesn't want to spend more days with her upset at him. It makes everything so hard. She had just stopped starving him, but he suspected she would go right back to it considering the events of the day. "I'll, I’ll kill her! I’ll do it for you!" "No you won't. She's gonna stay here now, and I'll work her, and use her as I see fit." Lizzy pauses her work - she's almost done - to grab James by the chin chains and tug. "She's going to see Hell itself and it'll be your fault." He manages to open his eyes and look at her as she yanked his scruffy beard and chin chains. Hes silent - listening. his brows just furrow pathetically. Once she lets go and moves again, he pipes up, "NO PLEASE! I made a mistake, I see now!" Lizzy isn't listening, but the saw goes through one last time, severing his wing completely. It bleeds profusely, and she tosses it away."How about you just lay there for a bit, pet." There's venom in her voice. James whimpers at her, his crimson painting the kitchen red. it pools and drips in long dark strings. Even with his eyes tightly closed, he can feel the room spinning. He didn’t have any strength to argue another word."Yes, Gatekeeper." He replies weakly, trying to relax his shuddering body. He wished for angels. He prayed, to the only entity with more power than the Gatekeeper, to give him mercy. . .  He knew God Wouldn’t. God was firmly in Elizabeth's camp. Lizzy lights a pair of candles, puts them aside, at the edge of James' vision. "You're not entirely grasping the situation here, are you?" James doesn't say anything. He slightly shakes his head. He never really did grasp anything. He couldn't imagine how she felt, he must be so infuriating. "You decided that your duty as a Priest was more important than my safety. That's the situation." She's holding a knife over the flame, letting James watch. He wanted to argue, to articulate his thoughts but he could feel himself giving up . . . what good was it really? He wanted to just lay there and take it, or die, or whatever he deserved. . .  but, If he did, she might think that's how he saw it. That he didn't care about her safety. It wasn't true and she needed to know it. "Elizabeth. that's not how I saw it. . . " he speaks in barely more than a whisper, "You're strong, and brave, this house has so many locks. I’m here. . .  I’m here to protect you if she had returned. . .  She wouldn’t return Elizabeth. She wasn't going to try to save me, she just wants to go hom--" "You don't know that!" Lizzy slams her fist into a puddle of blood on the table, screaming. "Dead people don't tell secrets, if she had gone home and told somebody, how many more do you think would have come back? How many people do you think want to stick a knife in me?!” "Elizabeth. . .  no one cares about us." He blinks at her with wet eyes. She slams her fist on the table again. And again. The knife is in her hands, and she's standing back over James, pushing his collar into his neck even further with her free hand. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" James feels the spikes digging deep as she pushes. Grinding the collar deep and pushing his head into the table. The knife stabs into his wing holes, hot and burning as she goes, screaming and making more holes in him. He tenses wildly as the knife finds him. over and over. Thoughts are melting away from him, stolen by pain and grief. He grips the edges of the table as she plunges the knife into him. The burning of the blade slows the pace of blood-loss, but the flesh is seared. He feels fluid forming in his left lung and he rattles a cough, letting the blood leak from his lips Lizzy screeches and flings the knife away, letting it bang on the wall of the kitchen, and she lets go of James. "Fuck you! You don't know anything!" "I. . . " He coughs again. It's painful in the collar. He buries his face between his own shoulder and the table, his grip still tight on the table. ". . . care, Elizabeth." He doesn't figure she could hear him, he's not even sure he said it out loud. He wept from pain and exhaustion into the table, traces of blood tasted like bitter copper. She doesn't seem to hear him at first, and slams her fist on the table again. "IF YOU CARED YOU WOULDN'T HAVE LEFT!" James flinches as she bangs around, he doesn't jerk much though, he just doesn't have it in him. He lifts his head a bit when she screams. His head wobbles as he tries to look back over his shoulder at her. "When?" He asks with empathy in his tone. Lizzy's grabbing her hair now, getting his blood on it, and curling up in the corner, sliding against the wall of the kitchen, screaming and sobbing. "You left you left you left!" James comes to a slow realization. He lowers his head back down. She had done this a few times before. He hated that when he bit back at her it sent her into these episodes. He didn't hate it for the reasons others might. . .  he hated it because he was suddenly the reason she suffered. She curls up and stays there on the floor, crying into her arm, holding her tattooed wrist so tight she was losing circulation in her hand. "Come back, come back. . .  please. . .  please, I'm sorry." James rests a moment, then slides off the table, looking more like jelly than a person. He can't quite stay standing so he slowly melts to the floor and crawls to her, his hands and knees slipping around in his own blood. Red palm prints mark his path to her. Once he gets there, he reaches out slowly. Trying to ease her to his touch, he goes lightly for her shoulder. She flinches, slaps his hand away in shock, yelling again. "Fuck off!" James flinches significantly as she swats him, but he doesn't run. "Elizabeth, Please. Let me console you." Even though his sense of self-preservation screamed at him to leave her be, he couldn't help it. The pain in him - the empathy- had him reaching out a second time. She didn't shove him off this time, just cried for Joseph over and over, cutting into her wrist with her nails. James takes the opportunity and slides on his butt next to her. He works hard to keep his back and stumps off the wall, they were burning him up. He half wraps himself around her, half pulls her to him. He’s being firm but not squeezing her. Raising his chin Dire prays to God on her behalf. Lizzy's curling up under his arms and crying, asking why Joseph left her, why she was alone, why she was damned. Her knuckles were bruising and bloody. James kisses the top of her head. Her hair always smelled good. Clean. like expensive soap. "As long as I live, Elizabeth. . .  you will never be alone," he whispers into her scalp as he rocks her slightly. "I'm sorry that Joseph is gone. . .  But I won't leave you." hes slow and patient  with her. He's not in a hurry for her to dry her eyes. James just holds her to him. Lizzy clings onto him, burying her head under his chin as she cries for her missing husband. “I'm a mess, I'm awful, I don't know how. . .  I miss him so much. . .  I just. . .  I can't. . . " He nods against her head. "I know. I know." he whispers, content to stay there as long as she needed.

[whumpfish]

Notes on passing out from pain

-it's a dramatic concept, but it's not dramatic for the person it happens to. There's no warning or noticable buildup, you just fade out

-by the time you're at the point of passing out, the crescendo of pain that causes it has been there for some time, there's not really a sudden spike that sets it off

-essentially your brain decides "this has been going on a really long time and it doesn't look like we can stop it so I'm just going to shut off and hope it goes away"

-it doesn't last long, just 5-15 minutes at a time, followed by you being awake and in pain for about the same time before your brain goes "whoops, guess it's not over" and shuts off again

-this on again off again bullshit can go on for HOURS, basically as long as you are in that level of pain (i.e. I woke up at 8am and it's now 1pm; I have passed out more than a dozen times)

-the worst part is that you don't notice it happening

-it's incredibly aggravating especially when you dream about being productive/somewhere else/wherever you planned to go before this bullshit wrecked your day while you're out, and then have to wake up to another round of passing out without having accomplished a goddamn thing

-it's also aggravating because you can't control it; you can't see it coming so you can't fight it, your brain just decides it knows better than you and shuts off

-so imagine a whumpee who keeps passing out and dreaming of rescue, or completing their mission, or escaping the whumper, or fighting back (and winning)

-imagine this happening over and over, not just aggravating but horribly traumatic and essentially a kind of torture in itself, their own body and brain betraying them

-passing out from pain is a pain in the ass, feel free to explore every aspect of it

[larpwhump]

James does this. He can gray out and be half aware, or he goes 100% into ‘angel land’ and spends 10 minutes there before coming back and being like “Shit. ow.” Sucks to be James Dire. haha.

[larpwhump]

Getting the Whumpee to the Ground

The whumper has come face to face with their prey. However, the best whump cant begin until this whumpee is reeling or restrained. How does the whumper do it?

- A cattle prod or taser shocking their prey until they colapse.

- A group of lackeys rushing in to subdue the whumpee. Struggling against so many is futile.

- How about a dart gun or drug injection? The whumpee slowly falling to their knees.

- Physically dominating? A good manhandling or beating.

- The Whumper smiles like a wicked cat when the whumpee's team mate steps from the shadows. A double cross!?!

- A third party cracks the whumpee over the back of the head. Lights out.

- The whumper makes a threat the whumpee cant ignore. Oh dear... blackmail?

- The whumpee gets suddenly ill or dizzy from a previous injury or poisoning. Horrible timing really.

- A lacky steps forward, revealing that they have captured the whumpee’s loved-one. 

[waywardwhump]

The caretaker watched in helpless terror as the beating grew more and more violent. The more the whumpee resisted, the more they were hurt.

"Please, no more! You're gonna kill them!"

And of course, of course the whumpee bites back, "I'd rather d-...die than beg...f-for someone like them."

The whumper snarls, and there is no question that without surrender, the whumpee will die.

"I'll beg, then."

Silence. The whumper's attention turns to the caretaker, fully looking at them for the first time in over an hour. "Oh?"

"I'll beg," the caretaker assures. "You can hurt me. I'll do everything you want. I'll get on my knees, and cry, and promise you anything. I'll give you what they can't, just...leave them alone."

"Wait, no-" The whumpee tries to stand, only for their knees to buckle, refusing to support their weight. "You can't. This is my fight, not yours. You're not supposed to get hurt."

"I'm supposed to protect you," the caretaker says.

The whumper snickers. They turn from the whumpee, a new fire in their eyes, their smile like an open wound, all raw and sharp. They come closer, raising the tool they'd been using on the whumpee just moments before.

"Well then. Go on. Start begging."

[larpwhump]

Good shit right here. <3 woo! The whumpee is getting double whumped!

[larpwhump]

An Angel Gets His Wings

In the three year time skip, Elizabeth did some experiments on her caged ‘friend’. The outcome was a rushed ascension and the sprouting of wings! What this meant was that i needed to craft wings for my costume! i knew i needed them to be contact safe and to stay close to my back. The game has boffer combat and if my wings are struck, I have to take the damage. I didn't want them hanging out as easy targets (ow). Here is some photos of how they were crafted. Don’t mind my messy work area! If you have any specific questions, feel free to hit me up in comments or PMs.

[reesesneezes]

I found this gif on Twitter… I haven’t seen it on Tumblr, but I thought I’d share it for those who like hurt/comfort bc… this is my JAM.

Original post here: (https://twitter.com/uzura3026/status/847104001040560129)

[whumpster-dumpster]

This is awesome!

[larpwhump]

Nice little animation!

[larpwhump]

When your caretaker is also your whumper...

James Dire has no real caretaker. He has people, who take turns trying to feed or reassure him. They tend to his wounds while they look down on his decisions. The one person that really understands his religious position? Elizabeth. Did she take advantage of his beliefs for her own gain? Absolutely. Does he care? Not at all. Infact, he would argue that she symbolizes god’s Love. She is the one looking out for him. She knows whats best for him. She IS his caretaker. She is the one he lets soothe him. These art pieces never got finished (it will for the scrap book) - But I believe it illustrates the point. In the first one,  Elizabeth cut his eyes out, then an hour later, lovingly cleaned the blood from his face in a crowded tavern.  The second piece happened at a national event. A war to END SLAVERY. This happened in merchants row. People were startled but no one interfered.  No one came to his rescue. If they had, He would have chased them off anyway. THIS is conditioning. THIS his is how a man ends up with stockholm syndrome. THIS is how you can eventually convince a man (that he deserves) to stay in your basement for 3 years.

[larpwhump]

Dystopia Rising had a 3 year time-skip. James’ Time skip was spent in Elizabeths basement. Here’s how he was faring at the end of the first year. Hes Fiiiiiiiiiiine - he just needs a cheeseburger.