Where the Whump Goes

[squirrellywhump]

Sideblog for all my Whump needs.

Scenarios, dialogue and situations that just scratch the brain deliciously!

Often used for inspiration for my fic Dead Man Walking when I'm looking for a certain feel.

Whumpee for most of these ideas is Bait/Chip

Whumper is Captain his leader and handler.

Caretakers are Brooks and Citrus. Mostly Brooks.

Will probably post the non canon drabbles here and reblog canon work. Still figuring that out. Please free to talk to me! I love yapping about these guys!

[ifyhfyr]

“What’s with all the bandages?”

“I’m trying to stop you from bleeding out, as per usual.”

“Don’t seem to be doing that good of a job.”

“Well aware”

[selyvn-the-fox]

Based vaguely on the scene in DMW where Brooks and Chip have a moment of peace before being found by the Bracken. Vaguely in the sense that they should be geared up and Brooks isn't nearly as affectionate.

I'm so happy with the paneling! It's just mwah!

[whumppromptoftheday]

For a submission

The whumpee is constantly trying to convince themselves that they’re fine, that they don’t need physical contact or affection because they fully believe they don’t deserve it. They’re strong enough to endure the absence and the isolation, they know they are. They’ve been starved of it from both family and friends because they’ve reassured them that they’re fine, that everything is fine, that things are fine, fine, FINE-

But at the first sign of affection, the whumpee is frozen. They think it’s a dream, that it isn’t real, that they’re just imagining things in their head. Then that sign just continues, on and on in the silence.

Then the whumpee realizes it’s real. It’s real, and it is happening to them. The tears fall slow at first, then the dam breaks. Whumpee sobs, sagging against the person giving them that affection.

For the first time in what feels like eternity, they truly believe they deserve it.

.

[whumpawaydarling]

big fan of the listless dissociated look that whumpees have after something that causes incredible pain (whether emotional or physical just a Lot of it) - when their eyes are focused on nothing and their mouth is a little open and maybe they're covered in blood and they're limp and just move with whoever is pulling them up rather than actually using any of their own strength. when blinking is the only acknowledgement they can give that they can even hear or understand what's going on. when they aren't even crying because that would take too much energy. they're just... tired. empty. dazed. yeah. big fan

[nnintendoe-deactivated20210629]

Reblog if you have read fan fiction better than some published books

Help me prove a point

[desert-neon]

I have never reblogged anything faster.

[tennantmademedoit-deactivated20]

Oh yeah

[questions-about-blorbos]

No matter how often or rarely, does your Blorbo speak to you in your head?

Yes

No

Remaining time: 4 days 10 hours

Every poll on this blog is about fictional characters only. This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[belovedwhump]

Beloved Whump Prompt #86

"We only need one. Get rid of the other."

[whump-polls]

happy pride month in many places around the world!

whump community, are you lgbtq+?

yes

no

unsure/nuance

Remaining time: 4 days 1 hour

[whumpandothercomfort]

Whumper who has given (defiant) pet whumpee a specifically stressful time recently, and whumpee finally breaks due to stress in front of whumper — who “comforts” them …

(Plsss<3.)

"Let me out!"

It's been nearly two hours in the discipline cage, so named because it's by far the most unpleasant cage to be trapped in. Pet is on their stomach, head raised, arms pinned behind their back. Their legs are folded and locked to the cage's low ceiling, providing absolutely no leverage or relief.

They can't move. The pain is excruciating. It's taken a long time to break, but finally, the panic sets in -- they're exhausted. They're so tired. They need to be done.

"Hm? What was that?" Whumper looks up from their desk, eyebrows raised.

Pet rattles their pinned arms as well as they can, clanging softly against the top of the cage. "Let me out, let me out, let me out-"

"Is that a command? You don't give me commands, sweetling."

"I need out!"

Whumper heaves a sigh and makes a big show of putting aside their work, then walks over to the cage. They sit down on the floor in front of Pet, eyeing them dispassionately.

"Please," Pet sobs, and there are tears streaming down their face, snot pouring from their nose, unable to wipe any of it away, "please, please, p-p-please, I'll do anything, please, it hurts-"

The bars locking their head in place are strategic, immobilizing the joints while leaving plenty of gaps. Whumper is able to reach inside with no trouble, gently petting Pet's sweaty hair.

"I need out," Pet says again, yanking at their arms, desperately flexing the muscles in their legs. "I need out, I need out-"

"But you must have known it would hurt," Whumper murmurs, "when you disobeyed me. Again. This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," Pet sobs, breath hitching, crying so hard they're half-choking. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll do anything, I'll be better, I'll prove I'm better, please, please, please-"

"Mmm. You do seem very sorry."

"I am," Pet says, eager and wretched, nearly tripping over the words. "I am, I am, I'll be good, I'll be good, let me out, please let me out, I need out-"

"But," Whumper continues, "if I let you free every time you cry, how are you going to learn your lesson?"

"No, no no no, I've learned, I-"

"You'll think, 'Ah, but I can disobey -- a few tears and my master will forgive me like always.'"

"I don't think that, no, no, please-"

Whumper keeps up the gentle petting, brushing Pet's hair back from their face. Their eyes are wide and helpless, but they're still leaning into the comfort, with the tiny amount of mobility they have.

"What do you think it'll take," Whumper murmurs, "to keep you from ever disobeying again?"

"I won't, I won't-"

"Still so defiant." They sigh, all sympathy. "Poor thing. I'm finished with my work for the night. It's time for bed."

The relief has barely had time to enter Pet's gaze when Whumper adds, "I'll come let you out in the morning. Unless you're still not ready."

Pet breaks into a frantic, babbling litany - please I can't I can't I really can't please no please I can't take it I need out I really need out I need out let me out let me out please please PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE -

Whumper draws back and straightens up. They head up the stairs and turn off the light, and the door closes on Pet still howling in the dark.

[kordova-deactivated20230908]

ya know

[liminalhunger]

Unwholesome OC Week Day 1 | Theme 1 | Hatefucking <3

It started as just another fight. It turned into something else. It would end as a fight once more, full of insults and anger. And it will happen again, and again, and again...

Uncensored Version on Bluesky @unwholesomeocweek <3 <3 <3 <3 Ramblings under the cut:

I HAD SO MANY SKETCHES FOR THIS EVENT

Sadly I'm having a Bad Year and couldn't finish all my sketches. I really did one for *every* theme. Might make a sketch compilation later.

But I still do have at least one finished art piece per day, so PREPARE FOR A LOT OF JAMES IN SITUATIONS

LORE AND CONTEXT: James and Richard had a tumultuous, intense, violent, and passionate relationship for a couple of years. The illustration above depicts their usual method of flirting. Just when things became more serious, Lucian (James' future sire) forced Richard to break up with James, before sending Richard away. Richard later turns into a vampire hunter, and James, now my beautiful vampire (VtM PC) (blorbo), will be fucked (heh) when they meet again <3

[whumpsmith-participates]

Unwholesome OC Week

June 1 - Violence / Hatefucking

Contains: vampires, master/slave, gore, forced to obey, age difference, mind control, blood drinking, murder, burning, noncon/rape

It happened so fast. One moment Ian had been accompanying the local heroes to help track down the individual behind a recent string of strange murders — And the next he was holding one of their hearts in his hand and someone’s throat in his mouth. The dark alley reeked of blood and the silence was only broken by pained groans.

And then his voice.

“Come.” he just said, “We have some…catching up to do.”

Ian dropped the remains of his friends. He felt sick to his stomach, but he had no other choice but to follow. He couldn’t even look back and instead kept his eyes aimed at the ground as he followed a couple of steps behind his sire.

Lord Colin Gethin stood about a head taller than Ian. He was old and it showed, but he was a lot more ancient than one might first think. And you wouldn’t know it unless he allowed you to. Ian knew all too well. He’d known Lord Gethin his entire life. He’d been the spiritual leader of the village he was born in. He was Ian’s teacher and mentor his entire childhood. And once he and nearly forty other boys were old enough, he became their lord. And they his servants.

He took them across the ocean away from everyone and everything they knew. All they had were each other and Lord Gethin. And they were happy for it. They were raised to be and they had no other choice.

Now, five centuries later, Ian knew better. He managed to get away from Lord Gethin a hundred years ago, learned more about the world, made friends, and nearly forgot about his master…until a couple of days ago, when the killings started. And now he’d found him and Ian fell right back under his command.

His hands, clothes, and face were covered in blood, but he hadn’t been told to clean up, so he didn’t. Lord Gethin didn’t speak to him, nor did he even look at him until they were well alone and far away from the bloodied alley.

Lord Gethin suddenly stopped and turned to face Ian, looking down at him, his already wrinkled face further creased in a mixture of fury and disgust as he looked his servant over.

“I need a place to rest safely and comfortably.” he said, “After that we’ll discuss your punishment.”

“Yes, Master.” Ian replied quietly, hesitating a moment before pulling out his phone and finding a hotel.

When they arrived at the hotel, no one from the staff seemed to question the blood on Ian. He got some looks, but as soon as Lord Gethin spoke, they only had eyes for him and after the interaction, they were left staring vacantly into the distance.

The strange trance didn’t just stop at the people Lord Gethin interacted with. It spread throughout the building like a suffocating miasma that wrapped around one’s brain, clouding one’s thoughts, and filtering one’s memories.

Ian could only hope their abuse would end at the trance. A merciful captivity that they wouldn’t even remember once Lord Gethin let them go… If Lord Gethin let them go. And Ian’s hope was quickly crushed after the porter showed them around the suite. Lord Gethin thanked him, shook his hand, and then pulled him closer and bit his throat.

Ian averted his eyes, his stomach churning at the sound of the man’s gasping and gargling. His heart rate suddenly speeding up, before slowing down as he went quiet, before finally leaving only a pressing silence, broken cruelly by the thud of his lifeless body on the hardwood floor.

“Much better.” Lord Gethin said, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbing at the corners of his mouth, “Clean that up, Ian. Then I want you to come straight back here.”

“Yes, Master.”

Ian had already started moving before he even spoke, grabbing the lifeless man under his arms and beginning to drag him out of the room with relative ease. Once outside the room, he carefully lifted him up and tried to carry him as respectfully as possible as he tried to think of a place to leave him that could preserve his body and halt the scent of rot that his master hated so much.

He found the hotel’s restaurant, the staff cleaning up after the last diners didn’t even look at him, focusing instead on cleaning the table that they had been wiping off for the past half hour. Ian paid them no mind either, heading into the kitchen to find the walk-in cooler, where he gently laid the dead porter on the ground.

He wanted to pray for him, but Lord Gethin had said he was to return right away once he’d “cleaned him up.” So he had no choice but to immediately leave the cooler and head back to the suite.

The suite he’d booked was large and luxurious. The building was old and the furnishing reflected that. The walls were covered in shiny, wooden panels, the ceilings high to make room for crystal chandeliers. The furniture looked antique; heavy-looking sofas and armchairs gathered around a marble fireplace and behind that a large four-poster bed with heavy curtains.

Lord Gethin was stood by the bed, admiring the wood carvings of the bed approvingly, before his face twisted back into a look of anger as Ian returned. Ian quickly looked back down at the floor, waiting by the door for his next order.

“Light a fire. I’m cold.” Lord Gethin said.

“Yes, Master.”

Ian gladly focussed on the fire place, inspecting it for a moment to see if it was operational, before finding a laminated sheet of paper with instructions to light it. It was a gas fireplace and it only took the press of a button to light it. The flames flickered to life in seconds and a pleasant warmth wafted into the room almost immediately.

“How’d you do that?” Lord Gethin questioned, approaching Ian to warm himself by the fire.

“The flames are fed by gas rather than wood. An electric ignition allows me to light the flames instantly.” Ian explained, “There are many ways to warm rooms today. This is one of them, Master.”

“I suppose some humans are good for something…” Gethin commented, “Unlike you.”

Had it still been beating, Ian’s heart would’ve skipped one at the sudden change in tone in Lord Gethin’s voice. He noticed himself tensing up, but other than that he stayed quiet, stood still, eyes on the floor.

“You reek. Go get cleaned up.” Lord Gethin just ordered.

“Yes, Master.” Ian said, bowing his head as he backed away before turning to locate the bathroom and heading inside.

There, too, he was met with glossy wood and marble stonework. A large, empty tub that could easily fill three people on one side and a rain shower separated from the bath with a glass pane and a wooden border on one side. And a large counter with two sinks hiding a toilet just out of view from the door on the other side.

Ian stepped over to one of the sinks and looked at himself in the mirror, its edges glowing softly from the light built into the glass and even the time, date and weather forecast displayed in one of the corners. Ian shook his head and began to wash his hands and face. His shirt he decided to toss out the small window above the toilet. A clue for anyone out to find them and a way to keep the smell of rot out of the suite. Which he returned to, clean and shirtless.

Lord Gethin was still by the fire, warming his hands before looking up and turning around as Ian closed the bathroom door behind him.

“Come.” he said.

And Ian approached.

“Kneel.”

Ian dropped to his knees, anxiously eyeing the hem of Lord Gethin’s robes.

“Look at me.”

Ian looked up. The fire behind Lord Gethin cast an eerie shadow on his face that Ian was all too familiar with. His master was unhappy. And rightfully so.

“You abandoned me, Ian.” Lord Gethin said, “I give you eternity…and you abandon me.

“M-Master I—”

“Silence!” Lord Gethin hissed, his voice distorting in his rage, a sound that betrayed he was far from human.

Ian flinched and in the second he had his eyes closed, Lord Gethin had stepped behind him, his hand grabbing a fistful of his hair and pushing him into the fireplace. Ian found his face inches away from the flames. Far enough to keep his hair from catching fire, but close enough to feel the heat beginning to burn his skin. He hissed in pain, desperately clawing at the walls of the hearth to try and push back.

“Stop that.” Lord Gethin said. And Ian’s arms abruptly froze. He had no defence against the heat, other than praying for his master to show him mercy.

And he did….or did he?

“Did you really think you could just leave me to slumber for eternity?” Lord Gethin asked, “Did you truly believe I wouldn’t find you the minute my slumber would be disturbed?”

“F-forgive me, Master!” Ian pleaded, to which he was yanked away from the fire and thrown against one of the antique sofas. He gasped in relieve, trembling a bit as his face began to heal and because he knew it wouldn’t be over so soon. So easily.

Sure enough, Lord Gethin stepped towards him, his hand locking around his arm with a bruising grip. Ian was yanked to his feet and quickly stumbled along as Lord Gethin dragged him towards the bed. The frame creaked dangerously as he threw Ian onto the mattress harshly, as if it was close to breaking, but neither vampire seemed to care. Their focus being more on one another.

Lord Gethin began to disrobe and, as if no time at all had passed, Ian knew he was expected to do the same. So he kicked off his shoes and rushed to take off his pants. But his trained obedience was far from rewarded when Lord Gethin grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully onto his back as he forced him to roll onto his stomach.

Ian briefly considered to protest, but his face was already pressed into the mattress and Lord Gethin’s nails bore painfully into his thighs until he spread his legs. There was no other warning. Lord Gethin ploughed into him unforgivingly. Slowly at first, finding his own comfort, before picking up the pace. Finding a rhythm that suited him enough to ignore Ian’s pained sobs.

It had never been like this before. His master had always been cruel, but in bed he was usually kind. A ruthless method cloaked in tenderness. Ian thought back to the many kinder moments he once knew, anything to distract him from the apparent punishment. His own tears stung his sensitive skin as he couldn’t help but to think of one particular moment…the one that landed him in this situation in the first place.

This is going to be a serialised one in which we explore Ian's past a bit. It's kind of an improvement of and addition to of something I wrote a while ago, but with less fade to black.

Ian is a character from my series Heroes. He first appears in book 2. Books 1 & 2 are available to read on my other sideblog @heroescore

@unwholesomeocweek

Taglist: @sug4rgal | feel free to ask to be added!

Masterlist | Main account

[mememaniamastermind]

Dying rp Starters

[lxttlemikey]

"Stay with me. Come on, just a little longer."

"You're gonna be fine, okay? You... You'll be fine."

"No. Oh, no. No no no. This can't happen. No. You can't die."

"Shush, just concentrate on staying awake, okay? Don't sleep."

"Oh my god... Don't give up! You can't give up!"

"You can make it through this. I know you can. Y-you have to..."

"Where did they shoot you!? Where did they sh-- Oh... Oh, god... Oh please no..."

"The doctor explained everything to me... I... I can't just let you go like this. I need you."

"Oh, god. Please be alive. Please still be alive."

"There's nothing they can do. I-- I'm so sorry."

"No. They're wrong. They're wrong, okay? You're not gonna die."

"Please, fight this. You have to fight it. You have to live."

"Don't die... Don't die on me. Please..."

"Listen to my voice, okay? I need you to stay with me. I'm bringing you to the hospital."

"I wish I could tell you everything was going to be fine..."

"Come on, now. You've lived through worse than this. Just... Just live through this too."

"I'm so sorry I let this happen to you."

[imagineyourotp]

Imagine Person B of your OTP going through a horrible transformation because of magic, and now they’re a weird supernatural creature of some kind, though still human inside. They’re worried Person A will freak out when they show them, but instead Person A just kisses them and tells them they love them for who they really are, no matter what they look like now.

[skegeton2-deactivated20130810]

“boy i really like this character i wonder what they’d look like if they got the hell beat out of them and started crying”

[usedtobehmc]

24 hours a day

[whumpologyy]

yknow there’s something to be said for a Whumpee who, no matter how many times they’ve been hurt or how long they’ve been in their situation, continues to beg or fight or resist in some way

not because they necessarily think they can stop or overpower Whumper. In fact, maybe by now they know that they can’t

but because there’s still a stubborn little voice inside of them saying, this is WRONG, I don’t deserve this, nobody deserves this!

and they feel like that’s one of the only things that’s keeping them human