Lover of All Things Strange. Weaver of the Unholy Macabre.
Content ranges from pg-13 to 18+. Tags as appropriate but be aware. Eldritch, doctor, and intimate whumpers welcome!
Hi! I'm Loreleiloon! Pros: She/her. 18+. You can call me Lorelei or Looney. Welcome to my humble whump blog!
I dabble in pet whump, adore all nonhuman whumpers, and have some whump series here on Tumblr. I write anything from shit posts to deep thoughts on the psychology behind abuse and vulnerability. Geeking out over OCs is a must.
I also post long-form works on other platforms which are linked below. Can't wait to see some of you over there, too!
Asks are always open! <3 Have already met so many amazing friends in this community and can't wait to make more!
CURRENT WHUMP SERIES
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The Star and the Needle (female amateur villain x male villain doctor. Up-and-coming hero, Starflower, is captured by a rogue band of villains. What should be a stopover blooddraw becomes an extended stay when Villain Doctor discovers planted superhero genes in her bloodsystem.)
MASTERLIST
AUs for Star and Needle
Urban Fantasy Drabble 1
HER ROOTS RUN WITH BLOOD - Lisl, a maiden in yee fairytale times, is about to be married off to the village goatherd. Her hesitance to grow up becomes all the more complicated when she begins to hear a voice from the mountain, warning her that if she doesn't help him appease the mountain goddess, her village will wither away. As the trees rot from within and the cornstalks twist into hideous creatures, Lisl realizes she can't keep the mountain's guardian waiting forever...
(TLDR: fairytale whumpee/whump, nonhuman caretaker, nonhuman whumper. Lots of psychological stuff, bloodletting, telepathic whump. Sibling abuse. Coming-of-age. Trauma Bonding turned Healthy Love.)
MASTERLIST
SIDEBLOGS
FACES-OF-WHUMP
My sideblog where I write whump scenarios for your blorbos that you submit to me. Have been running this for a few months now so hop on by if you wanna see your favorite OC's whumped or wanna see your friends' OCs whumped <3
LORELEILOONSDARKASCENSION
I don't post here as often but this is where my BG3 fangirling happens. If you love BG3, shiny vampires, doomed OCs, or all of the above, stop by!
A03 LINKS
BitterSweet - A Nightmare!Astarion Short Story. A young elf finds the only way she can escape her nightmares is by sating the bloodlust of a very peculiar vampire bat.
In love with the twisted dynamics of a female whumper and male whumpee.
Especially when there's an age gap at play
Nsfw below the cut.
"Are you scared?" Whumper asks, leaning closer, her long nails grazing his front.
Whumpee shifts, worming against his bonds, "N-no, but I--I haven't done it recently--"
That means he's never done it. Adorable.
"I'll show you," she promises. "Don't be so tense."
"Okay..."
He's already blushing. And she's barely stroked him.
"What moves do you like?"
Whumpee's hips twist just a little. "Moves? What do you mean?"
"Nevermind, I'll show you." And she leaves a kiss on his shuddering lips.
It's the last tender act she'll give him tonight...
It's been awhile since I've done one of these. Started on a new job that's been busy as all get out but I'm with good people, at last.
Have missed you all to bits tho! Hope my mooties and loonies are well :333
Once I get my cadence right, I'll be ready to roll on here again! Y'all wont be able to get rid of me, I swear.
But in the meantime, gimme something fun to one-shot!
Twisting his shoulders, he looks back to find the professor kneeling behind him, hands clasped. The rat raises a furred brow.
"What? I'm watching you."
His eyes steal a glance at the knob. 073 knows it's just to anger him.
"No that's not--" the vibrations have corroded the pleasure now and 073 yells, "Fuck! Move it! Please!"
He thrashes stiltedly, but his efforts only shift it in place.
The professor chuckles, "Not until you apologize to master."
073's eyes lock with the rat's for a moment. But he turns away, grunting, "You're not my master."
The rat shrugs, "Well, if that's what you choose."
He winds a rope around the handle of the knob. Knotting it securely, he loops the frayed end around the big toe of 073's raised right foot.
"Now," he remarks, tracing a design on 073's buttock, "I might be merciful," he stands up. 073 can hear the click of his belt, "but until your lips go to work, I'll have to make use of them myself."
There's a soft thud on the floor. 073 doesn't turn his head as the professor approaches and settles down cross-legged in front of him.
The young male can smell the pungent odor of musk and urine from the professor's shaft. It's splotchy-skinned and knobbed.
The professor lifts 073's chin. The yellow eyes gleam with amusement.
"Last chance," he smiles.
073's eyes hover fearfully over the already stiffening meat.
"What makes you my master?" he asks, the last glimmer of defiance fading in his voice. "You're just…my owner…"
Anger flashes across the professor's face, but he holds his twisted smile.
"But an owner wouldn't ask you," he says.
Gripping 073 by the armpits, he hauls him forward between his legs.
"An owner would beat you like a dog, and use you however he wants."
Grabbing the mottled red hair, he forces 073 to take his length. A pleading gurgle is chased back down the young male's throat. He can feel how much the professor fills his mouth. Alarm bloats his chest as the air is shoved back into his lungs. The professor holds his head in place. His vision blears as he gags and chokes helplessly.
He feels the rush of air in his inflamed throat before he even comprehends that the professor pulled out. But then he's invaded again. For a shorter time, but he coughs just as hard. His mouth is coated with a sour taste. It's the first time the professor has ever made 073 taste him. It makes his stomach roil. And flutter too.
He can barely hold his head up, but the professor supports him, massive paws cradling his neck and head.
He tilts his head on the professor's palm, looking up at him.
"And--a--master…?"
The hulking rat brushes some damp hair from the young male's face. "A master? Oh, a master would invite his pet to obey him. He would know pet wants to," he slips his thumb between 073's parted lips, "even if he likes to try my patience."
073's eyes never waver from the professor's. Slowly, his closes his lips over the heavy thumb, wordlessly sucking it.
The professor smiles, "A master know his pet is worth more than being beaten for meat."
He pulls out his thumb, dripping with saliva, and wets the nub of his cock.
"And with a little time. And patience," he presses his nub against 073's cheek, "you'll see it too."
073 grimaces at the hardened shaft, but tentatively, he works his lips over the end. He shifts on his front, kneading his mouth down the professor's length. It hurts because his throat is raw, and sometimes the professor holds his head still for a few moments. But a pleading gurgle always buys his freedom.
He can't see the professor's eyes clearly, but he can hear the stifled grunts, feel the involuntary thrusts of the professor's hips.
It's an odd sensation, drawing out pleasure from one who's always wrung it out of him. Has the professor ever let anyone do this to him? Did they ever make him come?
The buzzing in his ass chastises him for these questions. He's forgotten to move it with his foot, not that it matters anyway.
He can feel the professor's almost over the edge.
A hot, sticky taste coats 073's mouth. Instinctively, he jerks back, cum dripping from his tongue. The professor sinks, chuckling.
"No no," he purrs, "Don't make a mess."
Abashed, 073 begins to lick up the excess, taking every drop as much as his bindings allow. He can feel the heavy paw petting his head, the curled fingers weaving through his hair. As if they might force him back to his labor. Or reward him for his trouble.
"What do you have to say to me," the professor asks, "pet?"
073 raises his eyes, a little bit of white stuff glistening on his lips. The silence remains unbroken, bar the stiffled buzzing.
The young male's face flushes, "I…I would rather have you in me than this thing," his toe jerks futilely at the knob. After a moment, he adds, "Master."
Imagine a snake-like whumper that coils around and hypnotizes his whumpee into a dreamlike stupor just before depositing his venom into their system. What does the venom do? That's up to you! But it'll be hours before it wears off...
Okay but imagine if the venom caused temporary blindness. So the hypnosis that snake whumper used is bound within whumpee's clouded eyes.
They can hear Whumper, they can feel Whumper but their vision tells them they're still lost in a dream.
And even if they manage to wriggle away, they can't get far. Whumper will watch them stumble around, trying to find the way out, until they've exhausted themselves.
Then snake whumper will gently slip 'round whumpee again, capture them in his coils again.
Of course they're afraid, they protest, but can't escape. And Whumper soothes them, promising it's all just a dream and they'll wake up soon.
Very, very soon...
TW: Anthro whumper, human whumpee. Intimate Whumper. Restrained whumpee. Humilation. Vibrator. Sexual nudity. Minors DNI. Pet whumpee. Slave whumpee. Master whumper.
It's taken hours, longer than he's expected. He's pressed on his stomach, at the mercy of his owner, the great and renowned professor. The enormous rat works quietly, grunting to himself as he threads the ropes around each other, knotting and tightening them where needed. 073 hates this kind of rope. It always scratches his skin. All of it.
His owner doesn't like to see him covered. He might forget his place. That's what the professor says. 073 knows it's not the only reason.
His arms are locked behind him, one laid over the other. His hands overlap each other, his thumbs held tight by cojoined loops.
The thick web of roping around his arms twist into a single cord that runs the length of his arched back. He hates the way it digs into his asscrack when he struggles.
His legs took longest to tie. Of course, the professor always enjoys taking his time.
He murmurs cruel things whenever he's deep in his work. Calls 073 his "pet" and talks about all the tests he hopes to put him through someday.
Sometimes 073 asks why. Sometimes the professor answers. Mostly he doesn't.
073's right leg is pinned by the ropes, bent inward so much, he couldn't bend it more if he tried. He can feel the professor bending and straightening his left leg, discerning the best way to bind it.
073 twists uncomfortably, but the hulking rat just gives him an order to keep still.
It's not really an order. The professor hasn't raised his voice in a long time. It's worrying. Maybe that's why 073 likes to push the wire. He hates this calm.
"How long do I have to stay like this?"
The professor chuckles, "Unless you can untie yourself," he threads a rope around 073's right thigh and up over his ankle, "I think you'll just have to wait until I untie you."
073 sighs loudly, slumping his shoulders forward. If he dropped them any lower, they would knock on the worn floorboards.
"You're going to leave me here for days, aren't you?" he asks, using his best catty voice.
The professor growls a warning but 073 tosses his head.
"I bet you'd sooner test on a pretzel. You've always wanted a hard twisty to nut in."
He chuckles at his own joke. More to break the silence than enjoy his own broken humor. He hears the professor shift closer.
A sudden probe at his asshole makes him buck. Something cold and wet pushes against his hole, forcing entrance.
He can't get away.
Shuddering, 073 looks back, all pride vanishing from his face.
"No--Don't--!" he chokes.
But he sees the professor standing over him, still clothed. 073 sinks in relief and the professor notices with a cruel smile.
"There, there now," he soothes, "Not yet, but you do need to be punished," he pushes the knob a little deeper, forcing a moan from the young male's lips, "You mustn't speak to your master that way."
A click echoes through the dingy room. Then a loud hum stings 073's ears before the knob in his anus begins to vibrate violently. A thousand pinpricks of pleasure cloy through his taut body.
He cows with a humiliating whines.
"Augh!--fuck off, it's true," but his voice has all the ferocity of a kitten.
The professor purrs, "I know."
073 whines as the knob is rotated slowly inside him, drilling him like he's the worm on its hook.
"What's the--nngh!--the point of doing this when you don't stay to watch?" he pants.
The knob slows. 073 gasps as the vibrations concentrate painfully on a single spot.
"You want me to watch?"
The words drip with a foreboding venom to them. But there's a flare to them as well. A twisted interest. 073's stomach flips but there's no turning back now.
"I want you to do something," he snaps breathlessly, "Not fuck off for--hours and let me to rot in hell."
The vibrations are pounding in his brain, making thought difficult. He thrusts his hips, desperate to make that damn knob move.
But he can't feel the professor's hand on it anymore.
<<<< ++++
Lisl screamed. A pleading mewl came from her lips.
“Shhh,” she heard over her, “breathe...breathe...”
Fingers brushed her temple. Lisl shrank from their touch.
“Help! Someone help--” she gasped, trying to shout but her words came in whispers.
“No, no, don’t be afraid,” the low voice soothed, “I’m not here to harm you.”
She became aware of a heaviness in her chest. Whimpering, she breathed in small gasps, but the heaviness only weighed her down further. Her heart raced.
“What’s happening--nngh--who are you?”
“It doesn't matter. Not now,” the stranger murmured.
“I can’t open my eyes,” she said, panic mounting in her throat.
“The mountain is dying. It longs to feed. You must leave this dream before Uhyga draws you deeper.”
A dream? In her grandmother’s stories, dreams never ended well for the dreamer.
“How?”
“Return to the elm.”
“I never left,” Lisl said.
“In your mind.”
A roughened touch brushed her forehead and shapes broke through the darkness. Lisl reached for them, forcing herself to think of the forest. Her imagination moved languidly. Stooped trees covered in vines, roots far too big for the gangly trees they grew from.
“This isn’t right,” she said, looking about frantically. "It's twisted."
“Find the elm.”
Lisl sprinted through the decaying forest. She kept reaching for her memory of the tree, and at last she found it. Coming round the back of its trunk, she stopped short, horrified.
She saw herself lying against the elm roots. Her eyes closed and a twisted thorn branch across her chest. Crouched before her sleeping form was a twisted, hulking man. Every breath he took made him lurch forward.
She could not see his face for his body was covered in hardened, brackish substances. Two gnarled roots sprang from his neck, reaching down and clawing into the length of his back. Dead flowers hung in his black mane and bits of decayed leaves fell from his limbs with every movement.
Terror rooted Lisl in place. She had neither the courage to chase him away or the strength to flee. She could only stare as the creature leaned closer to her sleeping body, until his face was mere inches from hers.
The sight filled her with fear, and her sleeping form grew more agitated.
“What are you?” she saw herself whimper.
He leaned closer still.
"der Berggeist."
His voice sounded directly in her ear.
With a scream, Lisl turned away.
Remember me...
Her eyes snapped open.
She lay against the elm roots again. The monstrous being had vanished. Fighting the urge to weep for relief, Lisl slowly glanced around one side of the tree, then the other.
The creature was nowhere to be seen. The forest she knew had returned.
Springing from the tree, Lisl ran back the way she had come. She didn’t dare look back for fear that monster might still be behind her somehow.
Breaking from the forest’s edge, Lisl ran towards her home. She nearly bumped into a few villagers, but didn’t stop. Not until she was safely home.
During dinner, she received a heavy scolding from Kurt, who was very disoriented to find Lisl gone and Agathe conversing amiably with Jorgensen instead. He blamed her for the excuses he had to create to keep the situation from becoming embarrassing for all parties.
"Why did you leave?" he asked, "You were supposed to acquaint yourself with Jorgensen."
Acquaint herself? She'd known the boy all his life. Played with him when they were children. Why did it feel so different now? It didn't feel different. It felt forced. Because Magnus was gone. She hated it.
"You were speaking with the priest," she mumbled, bowing her head, "And I had work to do at home."
"Agathe says she saw you disappear into the forest."
Lisl bit her lip. Of course she had.
"I needed to clear my head--"
Kurt sighed angrily. "Clear your head? Again? How many times must we hear that before you admit you refuse to act your age."
"Kurt," Alma said.
"We have done so much to care for you, Lisl," her father continued harshly, fatigue behind his frustrated eyes, "One day we'll be gone, and who will look after you then? You can't keep making excuses to avoid growing up."
"Kurt, she understands," Alma intervened. "She'll do better. Did Father say when the ceremony will take place?"
Kurt gave a final firm glance at Lisl before turning back to his wife.
"In a fortnight's time," he said, "By then, the trees should yield enough to provide a dowry."
"Oh happy day," Alma sighed gratefully, "Imagine, darling, you're going to be a bride."
Ecstatic, her mother launched into plans for the wedding smock and decided she would sew the wedding garlands herself since the late spring had yielded so few flowers. Kurt relaxed soon enough. He even permitted himself a half-smile as he listened to his wife. No doubt he was recalling their own wedding years ago.
Swallowing her hurt, Lisl tried to listen to what was being said. Her future, her immediate future was being decided around her. As she forced herself to nod and agree with her mother's plans, a cold presence overshadowed her.
She tensed at once, feeling as though his breath lay upon her neck. The memory of the terrifying creature in the woods came back to her. The monstrous form bent over her own.
Der Berggeist.
It took everything she had to remain at her seat until dinner ended. That night, she curled up in her loft, exhausted but terrified of sleep. But she couldn't fight the exhaustion forever.
When at last she closed her eyes, a dreamless sleep overtook her.
The next morning, Alma told her Kurt had already gone for the woods.
"He must cut enough to sell in Schullen," she said, "Perhaps we may have enough for a new [dress]."
"When does the cart leave for Schullen?" Lisl asked.
"In two days hence. Oh, and the butter must be ready by now. Portion it for the market, will you? And keep them even."
Lisl nodded, and opened the churning barrel. "Are you disappointed in me?" she asked after a silence.
Alma glanced down, "…why do you ask that, Lisl? You will be wed soon. With a home of your own. Why would I be disappointed?"
"Am I not too old for marriage--?"
"Not yet," Alma interrupted quickly. "Don't talk that way. The Jorgensens have agreed to your hand. Only a greater dowry--"
"Greater?" Lisl's head raised at once, "Why?"
A dowry--or sum of useful gifts or wealth--had never been mentioned before. She knew sometimes they were required to entice the groom's family to accept the bride, but...why did she need a greater one?
A sinking feeling twisted her gut, "...I am too old for marriage."
"Hardly, child," Alma cooed, not meeeting her eyes. "The harsh winter is making us all...well, never mind that."
Then let me wait!, Lisl wanted to scream. Why all this hurry!
Because the winter will not end.
Lisl's breath fled her lungs. That voice--the same from the forest. It hadn't--was she dreaming again? She glanced behind her, but only barrels and kindling stood in the corner. Besides, the voice hadn't sounded in the room, it sounded...in her mind?
Her consternation broke only when she felt the blast of winter wind ripple inside from the open door.
"Mother, where are you going?"
Tucking her shawl closer, Alma sighed, "...I told you, Lisl. I must get acquainted with Helga Jorgensen. We will soon share the joy of grandchildren, after all."
Her mother tried to sound cheery, but Lisl wasn't a child. She could hear it in the woman's voice, how weary she was. Ashamed, Lisl dropped her gaze. She had daydreamed again, hadn't she? "I'm sorry."
"Finish the butter, dear." And the door shut.
Silence reigned in the lonely home. Chipping away at the butter in the barrel, Lisl moulded it into little logs. Yellow fat smeared on her palms by the time she had made three. The fourth log slipped out and tumbled back into the barrel.
She left it there and sat in the dark.
Why had her mother going alone to the Jorgensens? Helga must have heard about Lisl's early departure the other day.
If her mother felt weary of her dreams, Helga would be worse, she knew. Ernst was kind but everyone was always kind. She didn't want kind, she wanted--Gods, she didn't know.
It didn't matter, anyway. In two weeks, nothing would matter but her new life.
The fire in the hearth poked at her thoughts with its crackling. She poked it back with a meathook to stoke the embers.
They didn't have enough kindling to spare during the day. Which was why Breshka remained with Lisl's aunt, Eilweiss, more often than not. Though Alma's sister, Eilweiss had a better tolerance for the elder woman's eclectic ways. Furthermore, her marriage to Gernt's blacksmith ensured better kindling in their home, at least from the smithing forge itself.
Lisl shut her eyes, blocking out the world. It was too much. All of it. And this damning cold made everything worse. She missed those yule days of old, when the spring came early to the mountain slopes, when she and Magnus would make snowfolk faster than the sun could melt them. How they would follow the rivers of melting ice down the mountainside to Lechtung creek.
"I hate this," Lisl whispered, afraid to let the mountain hear, "I hate this...so much..."
What do you wish for instead?
Her eyes snapped open. The dark room seemed...off. As she sat there, something shifted just beyond her sight. Snatching the firepoker, she thrashed at the coals. Sparks hissed into life, throwing lurid light against the floor.
And at her feet, Lisl saw vines. Black ones, gnarled and writhing. The air fled her lungs. She could barely muster strength to pull her feet just out of reach.
"What's happening?" she gasped.
Let me listen
"Take them away," she begged. "Please, what--What do you want from me?"
The vines slackened.
Fräulein...
They came undone.
Lisl...
The door shunted open. The vines vanished in the cold, blinding light that poured in.
"Ah--Lisl," Kurt grunted, stepping within. He dropped his ax by the door. "Where is your mother?"
Heart pounding, she didn't dare move, "M-ma...making a peace offering to Ernst's mother."
He grimaced, "How long has it been?"
"Since midday."
"That seems right," he sighed. "They are a stubborn lot."
"And you still want them in our family?" she asked, looking at him from beneath her lashes.
"Lisl. After your behavior, would they want us in theirs?"
She frowned, but kept quiet. He hadn't spoken harshly, but with a tired disappointment. Which cut her deeper. Clutching the wool tighter, she couldn't keep one thought from slipping out, "Why now?"
"Eh?"
"Why now, Papa?"
"Because we've forestalled long enough. And we cannot wait for spring anymore."
So she was too much to care for now? Was that what they didn't want to admit?
"Is the harsh winter why the Jorgensens demand a greater dowry?"
Silence filled the home. Kurt rapped his knuckles on the wooden arm of his chair.
"You shouldn't concern yourself with it."
"You want me to marry and manage my household, Papa. How can I do that when you didn't tell me that Jorgensen "
Kurt pushed himself from his chair, "The burdens of fear are not yours to carry, Lisl."
"Mother carries them with you. You know she does. Stop hiding them from me."
He didn't meet her eyes, staring coldly out the single window. Lisl stood up as well. He'd listen to her. She knew he would. Breshka was not here and Alma would trust his decision.
"What it is you're saying, Lisl?"
She didn't know. She thought of Breshka's suggestion that she marry Wilhem. Maybe the Gotts would not require such a large dowry? But she couldn't ask that of her father. She would have to determine that herself.
"I want to go with you," she said at last. "To Schullen."
~*~*~*~*~
TAGS: @sorrowful-hyacinth, @melpomenelamusa, @catgirllivvy
Hero wakes up to the feeling of a long needle piercing their neck. "Hey--stop--!"
But the feeling of warmth softens the tension in their body quickly. Very quickly. They sink back against the pillows as a familiar scent overtakes them.
"Villain--" they pant, their limbs too comfortable to move. A rustling beside them confirms it. "W--why--?"
A hand ghosts their chin, but now they can barely grunt.
"No reason," Villain says just to their right, "I missed you..."
dreaming of Whumpee so used to Eldritch Whumper's presence, they start talking to the dark, multiple-limbed freak that spawns in the dark.
Just regular conversations. Talking about their day, asking how Whumper is doing, maybe being a little catty and levying an insult or two before Whumper begins their string of psychological torture.
Covering Whumpee's eyes and making them see things as if they're trapped in an alternate reality. All while Whumpee is locked in their bedroom, unable to scream.
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Hi!! To answer your question, I've been busy with a full-time job that has gotten super stressful in the past two weeks
But I am likely going to be leaving that job soon, by mid-June at the latest, either by my contract running out or my bosses getting fed up with me
Long story lol
I hope to be more active on here over the summer for sure!!!!
Oh noooo! I'm so sorry! Bad jobs are the fricking worst. Especially when the bosses suck. I hope you can get out of there soon ;-;
But don't feel bad about not being around. We'll keep a seat warm for you until you get back <3
Take it easy! You're almost there!
