sup nerds. no one from my main needs to know about this little sideblog. mostly it's here because i want to explore these interests of mine and put aside the shame a bit.
Call me Ribbon. Don't care about pronouns; get funky with it.
I like kidnapping, drugging, physical and emotional abuse, and people being tied up.
I won't engage in nsfwhump content.
I prefer character focused whump. I don't really like when the placeholders of whumpee and whumper are used as if they're names. I want the character to get the shit beaten out of them as a character study.
If I don't like you, I'll block you. Simple as that.
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
Whumpee who had just gotten saved/rescued by their group or Caretaker, but their boundaries are so oddly specific and detailed that they decide to make an entire PowerPoint presentation specifically for Caretaker on how to properly take care of them without them getting upset, hurt (physically or mentally) or getting flashbacks to their torture.
This is legitimately how it feels to be traumatized though. Dodging triggers like playing parkour in a minefield and somehow even then the weirdest ones slip through
The princess was born sickly, limbs twisted and weak, tiny lungs gasping for air from the moment she emerged. She was unfit for marriage or rulership, and thus spared the rigorous royal education her siblings were given. Her head, supported by pillows around her fragile neck, was unfit to bear a crown.
But she did make a decent political prisoner. They called it a foreign exchange trip, but everyone knew what it really was: insurance. So now, in a strange land, far from anyone she knows, she realizes that her new caretakers resent her needs. They're just grunts in the grand scheme of things, jaded palace servants, but the only code they seem to stick to? Is maintaining plausible deniability.
A drop of poison in her cup to upset her stomach. An accidental slip on the stairs. Loose bedsprings that pierce her skin in the dead of night. Over time, the incidents pile up, and the princess wonders how much more she can take.
if you cannot hold nuance in your heart then I'm going to block you. If you come onto a stranger's post with the worst faith interpretation I am going to block you.
Carewhumper is such a fun niche actually. What if we portrayed the terrifying reality of caretaker abuse in a way that's sympathetic to the victim and directly acknowledges the harm that caretakers are capable of.
not enough suspension bondage tbh. The constant pressure, the dizzying swaying, fear of heights... bonus points if their captor hoists them up like a ceiling decoration and they're gagged and screaming for help but their rescuers on the ground never look up.
anyways. seconds to the end takes some inspiration from chainsmoker cat, but also the works of neal schusterman (who wrote some pretty banging scifi hampered mostly by his hatred of women and belief in a human soul) and psycho nymph exile. it's planned to be a series of vignettes set in the same universe. probably going to focus more on women because we need more of them.
also obligatory rent lowering gunshot, if you're a terf this series is not for you. can't believe i have to say this but sadly those losers are still around.
Contains: captivity, implied threats. Mentions of war, infanticide, sexual assault, forced pregnancy, terminal illness.
Please use discretion. Thank you.
“I just need you to understand. I need someone, anyone to understand. Before it was a plague, it was meant to be a miracle.” The man staring into the camera is slight of frame and trembling in the chair that he’s tied to, making the thick chains seem like overkill. He’s got pale eyes sunken deep into his skull, and wisps of grey infringing on his temples. “I didn’t mean for any of this-- I just wanted my wife to have a chance to see the sun.
“She was sick. Not terminal, but… chronic. Had so many organs replaced, she called herself the ship of Theseus. I was terrified to touch her, scared I would get her sick and her immune system… so, I found it. The chimera code, we called it. A piece of DNA that would let pieces and parts mesh freely. I didn’t know they’d use it for this, I swear!”
TELL THEM WHAT HAPPENED. ABOUT THE WAR.
“I— look, when the United States military shows up, you can’t say no. That’s how people get disappeared. I gave them access to my notes, and then, the soldiers— started coming out wrong. Stronger, better senses. These people were made into living weapons! And— the war, right. Well, if you’ve been living under a rock for the last ten years, the states aren’t quite so united anymore. Second civil war. East versus West, this time. I’m not a political science major, I don’t understand why, all I know is that they started using the chimera code to make genetically modified soldiers. And the candidates were the worst sort. The sort who would normally try to get away with that kind of war crime, but nine months later, you saw the results. That is, if the women made it that long. Abortion rights, freedom of speech, those kinds of things went during the war.”
TELL THEM ABOUT THE FATE OF THOSE CHILDREN.
He swallows hard. “This was never— I didn’t want this. It wasn’t ready for humans! I’d only cleared it for use in patients who were terminal and knew the risks. Saved a few, but… it wasn’t meant for the public. If you were a victim of the war, if you were assaulted by a half-beast soldier and then gave birth to… well, I don’t blame these women for giving up their kids. Some of them didn’t. I mean, you fill up a bath tub, and…”
TELL THEM. THEY DESERVE TO KNOW.
He flinches. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I— the second generation chimera code is unstable. If you are a second generation, then I don’t know how long you have to live. If given a lab, then maybe I could fix it, put a functional copy of the gene in there, but—”
YOU HAVE DONE QUITE ENOUGH, DOCTOR.
The screen flickers. The man in the chair trembles, in fear of a blow that never comes. The DVD always freezes here, but everyone knows the rest by heart. They had copies of this falling from the sky every day for a while, and you could reach up and grab one if you weren’t scared of the bombs that used to fall from those same planes. Even now, it’s not uncommon to find someone who flinches if too big a bird flies overhead.
Welcome to San Francisco, or what’s left of it. Seconds roam the streets in search of food, shining black trucks can change your fate forever, and no one knows when the clock runs out for you. Have a seat, take a smoke, fill your body with poison. It’s not like you’ve got anywhere better to be, anyways.
hm..... how do you come up with a proper name or a searchable tag for your whump series? I've got a prologue cooked and ready to post, but it needs some kind of sauce.
been poking at an idea for a whump series but first I need to do some insane worldbuilding. In order to make catgirls an oppressed species I need to first destroy San Francisco and also make organ transplants safe and widely available forever.
Sure thing! His name is Merlin! He's a little shithead who loves to eat wet food! My dad and I also believe he's the actual Merlin, whenever he's nowhere in sight, we believe he just poofed back as a wizard to do his thing before he comes back as a kitty.
He's one year old now! Here's his baby pic that made me fall in love.
