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isamajor

Whumpblrful’s 100 Drabble Challenge - Whump Edition (prompt 11 to 15)

A third batch of @whumpblrful‘s 100 Drabble Challenge with Skyrim Custom-voiced Followers.

11 - “No.”

Nebarra's teasing tone cut through the air like a dagger, and Lucifer's heart sank.

"You see there was this lizard back in Taneth, and she was cute and I was rather drunk..."

Lucifer's eyes darkened, hurt flickering across his features.

"No.", blurted Lucifer, trying to hide the pain in his voice, refusing to believe what Nebarra said, spitting it was another naughty trick on his part. He refused to imagine that there was even a tiny chance of what Nebarra was saying. Being abandoned and not knowing his true parents had always been a sensitive topic for him. (101)

•

12 - Confusion

Consuming skooma had muddled with his mind and memories. Even though he had quit the drug, Inigo still suffered from the confusion it caused in his brain. He remained convinced of having attempted in the past on the life of the Dragonborn even if the latter persisted in denying it. From time to time, the painful symptoms of skooma withdrawal would be felt. And Inigo would occasionally fall back into a lethargic, confused, and disoriented state, with his usually bright eyes unfocused and dilated, his heart pounding, and every nerve screaming for the comforting embrace of skooma. (97)

•

13 – Broken

More than any physical pain, Taliesin knew there was one thing in particular that would break him. From the person he feared most in the world. His own father. Should he be caught by the Thalmor, his alias would quickly be dispelled and he was certain that his own father would lead the interrogation and the torture session. His father would surely revel in inflicting pain on his degenerate son to match his disappointment and contempt. And Taliesin would endure it all without a word, staring blankly and body trembling in a cold sweat, so engulfed in the terror of his own father's wrath. (105)

•

14 - “Let’s have some fun”

When they arrived on the scene, it was already too late. Blood stained the feet of the statue of Talos and lifeless bodies littered the small square in front of the altar. Talos worshippers and Thalmor, who had killed each other. They heard a wheeze, then a black robe moved. One of the Thalmor was still alive. Eyes full of resentment, Kaidan unsheathed his nodachi. He approached the Altmer with an evil grin, ready to make him pay for his crimes, without trying to listen to the latter's defense.

"Let's have some fun..." he muttered, pointing his blade at the wounded Mer. (104)

•

15 - Control

Remiel's heart was beating furiously in her chest, to the point that her ears were ringing. The Vampire Lord towered over her, and she felt her insides melt with fear at the terrible threat he posed.

"You are mine now, little Breton.", whispered the vampire, his eyes glowing with malevolence. "The rest of your poor life, you will be my obedient and devoted thrall."

A tear rolled down her cheek, she couldn't fight the vampire's control over her. She could only pray inwardly that her friends would come to save her, and quickly. (96)

dailykojiya

fanart

#kamen rider #decade ot4 #onodera yuusuke #kaitou daiki #kadoya tsukasa #hikari natsumi

catadromously

sure, fine, your characters kissed, whatever. have they rested their foreheads together yet

catadromously

I’ve seen this tagged from Jane Austen to RWBY and every which way in between. I’ve caught glimpses through this post into a thousand strangers’ private world creations and pro wrestling obsessions. and I’ve read more versions of “not yet that’s what I’m here for” than I can count. Peace and love on planet Blorbo.

#no head touching but ohhhhh the collar grabs this year

isamajor

Whumpblrful’s 100 Drabble Challenge - Whump Edition (prompt 6 to 10)

Another batch of @whumpblrful‘s 100 Drabble Challenge.

6 – Mind

The Dragonborn’s eyes widened in horror as they regained control, staring at the Ebony Blade stained with Lydia’s blood. They looked at their dying huscarl in disbelief, as the voice in their mind finally fell silent.

“What… what have I done?” they stammered, panic overtaking them. “I didn’t mean to… It was the voice… ! ”

Around them, the world froze, horror marking faces. From Lydia’s lips came only a weak gurgle. The Dragonborn’s hands trembled as they dropped the cursed blade, stepping back, shocked. In the back of their mind they could hear the smug laughter of Mephala. (102)

•

7 – Broken Wings

Caryalind’s heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted through the woods, desperate to escape his fate, until a lightning spell took his breath away and knocked him to the ground. Powerful arms grabbed him and freed him of his daggers. Caryalind struggled, but his father’s men were stronger and more numerous. His eyes filled with fear. He didn’t want the destiny his father had mapped out for him and to be molded into the perfect Thalmor. As they dragged him away, Caryalind’s dreams of freedom shattered, like a bird whose wings have been broken. (99)

•

8 – Rescue

Their group was formidable, but their enemies knew it and had come in numbers and strength. As if the Aldmeri Dominion were afraid of the Dragonborn and what he stood for, and had decided to eliminate him no matter what. Critically outnumbered, battered by numerous mages and soldiers, they were on the verge of succumbing when Auri noticed the glow of torches by the hundreds in the distance. For a moment they were afraid it was a new contingent of Thalmor but soon, fierce cries that chanted “Dovahkiin! Dovakhiin!” came to their ears. The people of Skyrim had come to their rescue. (102)

•

9 – Helpless

Lucien’s usually sharp mind and vast knowledge were of no use in this situation. Cornered by a group of scoundrels who had seen him arrive with his nose in his books, his attempts to reason with them were met with harsh laughter before they decide to hit and rob him. Lucien, trying to protect his books, couldn’t even cast a spell before being knocked down by a punch, leaving him breathless and defenseless. He felt totally helpless in this alley of Riften, feeling his clothes being ripped off in search of money or jewelry, under the threat of more blows. (102)

•

10 – Happy?

Serana’s lips tightened into a thin line as she reluctantly agreed to Remiel’s request. “Fine, no raising the dead. Happy?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, clearly displeased with the limitations on her powers. If the Dragonborn hadn’t supported Remiel’s request, Serana wouldn’t have complied, the Breton knew that. But only the result mattered. Every corpse that had been brought back to life against its will had for her the face of her own father, whose body had been desecrated by these horrible methods. Although she could understand the tactical advantage of this, there were lines that should not be crossed. (105)

isamajor

Whumpblrful’s 100 Drabble Challenge - Whump Edition (prompt 1 to 5)

I decided to try another whump challenge before whumptober comes, so I’m going to do @whumpblrful‘s 100 Drabble Challenge. :D

1- “Don’t touch them”

There were too many vampires. They had felt the blood and the power of their little troop and had come in numbers. Soon they were overwhelmed, weakened by vampiric drains, frozen by ice attacks, and beset by the cold bodies of vampires yearning to taste their warm, throbbing blood. In front of this, helpless, the Dragonborn could only scream “Don’t touch them!!”. The shout had the sound of thunder. But this only froze the vampires for an instant. Eyes filled with rage, the Dragonborn shouted louder, ancient words coming from the depths of his draconic soul. (97)

•

2- Torture

Taliesin’s body, covered in bruises and wounds, writhed in pain from the new volley of blows. He enjoyed the pain, but to a certain point and in a certain context which unfortunately was not the latter. His former comrades from Thalmor were unleashed on him, setting an example. The sucid missions had not been enough, Taliesin had betrayed them and left Thalmor to travel with the Dragonborn. It was more than treason. He went through torture. But even when they had defiled and torn out his beautiful hair, he would not open his teeth. He would not betray the Dragonborn. (101)

•

3 – Forced to watch

Nebarra and Telmiltarion ventured into Markarth’s market, in search for provisions, unaware of the looming danger. Guards working for the Silver-Blood family emerged from the shadows, cornering them in a narrow alley. Quickly, Telmiltarion found himself disarmed and restrained by a bunch of men in green armor. Other guards tore off Nebarra’s helmet, exposing his defiant expression and youthful face.

“Harmless as bunnies, eh?” one guard sneered, landing a vicious blow on Nebarra’s cheek.

Others joined in, pummeling Nebarra with blows. Telmiltarion’s heart pounded as he fought against his restraints, desperate to help him. He could do nothing but watch. (105)

•

4 – Held

The Dragonborn’s world shifted as tentacles snatched them into Hermaeus Mora’s realm, Apocrypha. Panic gripped Kaidan’s heart as he lunged to catch them, but Xelzaz firmly held him back by an arm and Lucien gripped his wrist.

“You can’t go there, it’s too dangerous. They has to confront Miraak alone. Apocrypha is treacherous, Hermaeus Mora wouldn’t allow another player in their game.”, Lucien explained, his grip tight.

The Black Book consumed the Dragonborn, and, firmly held by his traveling companions, Kaidan stared with a heavy heart as the book closed itself and fell to the ground. (102)

•

5 - Bruised

Gore winced as Lucien gently probed his bruised side. He grumbled at him to be careful. Lucien’s eyes softened with concern, apologizing but explaining that he needed to check for an internal injury.

“…Fine.”, nodded Gore. He gritted his teeth when he felt Lucien’s hands on the large bruises that adorned his back.

Chuckly weakly, he added “That dragon’s tail packed a wallop.”

Lucien’s fingers traced the purplish-blue marks left by the dragon’s swipe, announcing that he had been lucky that the dragon hadn’t broken anything, before casting a healing spell on Gore’s back. (102)

His Warmth

Axesuke & Negasumi, 300 words

FebuWhump Day 2: “flinching”

Natsumi thinks Yuusuke is unfairly cute. His smile is bright, still, if a little manic. But so be it. He’s suffered enough to be justified in his tight faces and tighter movements.

He’s warm, too. Comforting, and she isn’t used to this. To someone she can trust. Chinatsu died a year ago, after all, and it feels like both yesterday and a hundred years ago.

She reaches for his hand as they take a short break to watch an old movie.

(How long has it been since she’s been able to rest like this?)

He jumps, pushing her back. She’s too shocked to fight it.

“Yuusuke?” She asks. Yuusuke’s eyes are wide, but then he blinks.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m… something it still feels like I’m back there.”

Natsumi shakes her head, going back over, an holding out her own hand.

“No, it’s fine,” she says. “I know how you feel. If it… I would help you leave.”

Yuusuke just shakes his head, taking her hand and pulling her close. Natsumi snuggles against him.

“No,” he says. “Forget it. Everything I want is here.”

Natsumi nods, but she still worries. Yuusuke’s so strong, but he’s hurt.

“Are you sure?” She asks, “you’re so quiet about your past. I don’t want you here, just for me. You barely know me.”

Yuusuke just smiles.

“I don’t regret a thing,” he says. “Except…”

Natsumi tenses.

“Except what?” She asks, and Yuusuke’s face falls in an instant. His eyes close, and he looks… broken. He is not supposed to be broken. He is supposed to be bright, and sure.

She puts her hand on his heart.

“My sister died,” Yuusuke says. “Because I lost. Nothing will ever change that.”

And Natsumi…

Hikari Natsumi does not know how to fix him.

#febuwhump #FebuWhumpday2 #kamen rider #kamen rider decade #whump: angst #whumpee/caretaker #Axesuke #negasumi #negatives series #character death #a hundred heroes welcome you home

nsfwhump-mania

noncon stuff is very cool and nice to read but consensual recovery sex is god tier

caretaker being so careful and attentive and soft

whumpee being so proud of themselves for being happy and okay

caretaker has whumpee on their back and gently starts taking their clothes off, followed by their own, checking to make sure everything is okay

it’s finally off so they can admire and feel each other, hands everywhere but they’re good hands, hands they both trust

caretaker takes a long time to prepare whumpee and makes sure everything is comfortable, confirming safewords and going over limits and whumpee is so appreciative but also a little impatient so they start begging

caretaker is so turned on by whumpee wanting them, genuinely wanting them and being so brave and comfortable, so they give them what they want

it’s slow and gentle and wonderful for both of them, whumpee isn’t nervous anymore after so many failed attempts ending in fear and crying and awfulness, it’s finally okay and they’re so happy

caretaker finishes first and they make sure whumpee isn’t overstimulated before helping them climax too

they cuddle together for hours, just warm and safe and happy in each other’s arms

#nsfw #txt: ideas #noncon #recovery

summer-of-whump

Summer of Whump Prompts, Rules, and FAQs

(transcribed below the cut)

#summerofwhump #oh?#perhaps

anguishmacgyver

A layer of dried up grime covers whumpee's skin. Before whumper captured them, it was soft to the touch, clean and glowing with health.

Now, after weeks of being denied proper hygiene, whumpee is rescued but it feels like no number of showers will get rid of all the dirt.

How do they do it?

Does it happen in the hospital, in the hands of well-meaning but not so gentle nurse, "come on honey, we gotta get you cleaned up, let me do my work here", the thought of being touched again making them sick, and they're only barely containing the flinches? Powering through because they have no choice?

Do they lock themselves in the bathroom, scrubbing their skin raw until it stings, leaving red welts all over their body? They must feel clean again, not only literally; they must wash away the echo of their abuse. Even if it means abusing their own skin to do so.

Does the caretaker help them do it?

Whumpee is reluctant because, it's caretaker, but the thought of hands is making them nauseous. But caretaker works patiently, there's no scrubbing or unnecessary pain as they pour baby oil on their friend's skin to soften it. Says nothing as the whumpee shakes with silent tears of pure grief, as they try to wash the awful memories down the drain, along with their own filth.

#whumpee #whumpee & none #whumpee & caretaker #aftermath #txt: ideas

flaim-ita

Shatters, Shattered - Aftermath

Tsukasa whump, 1.4k+

Tw: aftermath of torture, implied/referenced self mutilation, implied referenced human experimentation, suicide attempt

It’s not the first time some remnant of Dai-Shocker came after them, and it certainly won’t be the last. The only thing is that they took Tsukasa with them.

Of course, even that had happened before, but usually they got him out or he escaped within a day or two.

It had happened to all four of them.

Well, this time is different. This time it’s been weeks.

This time Tsukasa, Tsukasa who even in defeat has an element of inherent size to him, splayed out, is curled in the corner, watching them with furtive gazes.

Tsukasa opens his mouth as though to ask something but then quickly shuts it again. Yuusuke is the one to walk to him first, however. Tsukasa stumbles forwards, and that’s what calls Natsumi to action, though she’s quickly followed by Daiki, as all three catch a collapsing Tsukasa. His hands all but flail as he tries to figure out which of them to reach for.

Daiki takes his hands.

“It’s okay, Tsukasa,” Yuusuke says.

“We’re taking you home,” Natsumi adds. Tsukasa freezes for a moment… and then he stumbles back. Fights them until he’s in a state where he truly can’t.

They catch him when he falls once again, and this time, he’s limp.

#kamen rider #Kr decade #hikari natsumi #kadoya tsukasa #onodera yuusuke #kaitou daiki #decade ot4 #whumpee: Tsukasa #txt: story #mine #torture #self harm #suicidal #whumpee/caretakers

cottoame-deactivated20171224

#kamen rider #kadoya tsukasa #kr Decade #whumpee: Tsukasa #art #whumpee & none

bandaged-misery

Whump prompt no. 59

Whumpee isn’t exactly a saint. They aren’t truly evil, either, but they have done some shady stuff. In their eyes, Caretaker is an actual saint though, and they feel absolutely undeserving of their care. In addition to taking care of Whumpee’s wounds, Caretaker has to spend time convincing Whumpee that they deserve to be saved.

#whumpee & caretaker #whump prompt #txt: ideas #whumpee: Tsukasa #guilt

scars-and-vulnerability-deactiv

honestly i’m pretty much convinced that whump is some sort of an emotional outlet for the vast majority of the community, like, we have pent up issues and we project that onto the characters so they can acknowledge that pain and receive comfort for it.

even before i realized how big my daddy issues were, i latched onto characters with daddy issues and surrogate parents. and i’ve heard from you guys that you’ve had similar experiences with other tropes, so. yeah, there’s my thoughts on why we like whump, feel free to add on, like this isn’t a conversation we’ve had a lot in the community

just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

I saw this like 3 days ago, and I came back to me and I was like, “hmm I don’t think my favorite whump trope says much about me. Does it? Broken and conditioned whumpees. I just think their mindset is really fascinating and the way that they can be so trusting of the wrong people. Also that moment when someone has to point out to them what happened to them was wrong? Oof that’s the shit. And maybe they never catch onto it themselves that they’ve been hurt and don’t even get me started on the stress put on unrealistic perfect behavior and….

oh.”

moving-blogs-aw

It’s not like there’s an actual reason I find pet whump so cathartic right?

whumpblrful

Me writing whumpees who feel like they deserve it because of things they’d done, so there’s that GUILT holding them back from healing, not really showing their emotions except with a trusted few: …this means nothing

#whump community

By Mine Own Sins

In which Tsukasa finds himself kidnapped by someone with a specific grudge

He wakes up chained to a metal slab in a cell. This isn’t exactly the most unique experience for him. He’s been at it as a hero for, what, two years now? Occasionally someone among his group gets captured.

He’ll give his captors this, at least said cell is a literal cage in the middle of a larger cell, everything bolted so he can’t actually just walk out through a Veil.

He wishes he could remember how he got her, though. A fight, yes. A… he’d pulled them all through a dimensional wall, away from the fight…

There were too many Mooks, they surrounded him. He couldn’t… couldn’t fight them all back.

“Decade,” a familiar voice says. Tsukasa turns to find Narutaki standing outside his cage, behind him. “This world has finally captured you! Your journey ends here!”

Tsukasa merely glares at him. He doesn’t bother to respond.

Surely he’ll find a way out of this, right?

friendlylocalwhumper

Eerin can’t speak. Can’t make noises like whimpers or whines or screams - some of Nick’s favorite sounds. All he can do, really, is breathe. Take deep low breaths, or short desperate gasps, or jagged syncopated panting.

Luckily, Nick loves to disrupt breathing.

Eerin, slender and stunning in the fragile, earnest sort of way, lies pinned on his back, straddled by his muscle-heavy friend. Coal-dark eyes gaze up at Nick with nothing short of a dire need to be everything Nick wants - and what Nick wants him to be, right now, is breathless.

Two large hands remain wrapped around Eerin’s oh-so-bruisable throat. Probably too much of Nick’s considerable strength, built up for this very hobby, is being used to cut off Eerin’s air. At the thought of the breathing that will eventually be allowed, he leans forward and pushes down, cinches his hands closer together, scrunching up his nose for a second with the force of his maniacal grin.

That jaggedly cut black hair is limp against the floor, those dark eyes wide with fear. No one, no matter how prepared they may be to be choked, is able to hide that fear once they’ve been deprived of oxygen for long enough.

Against his own instincts to comply to the very end, Eerin claws weakly at Nick’s hands. The torturer’s arms quake slightly from the continuous exertion. Oh, these bruises are going to be gorgeous. Dark splotches of black, brown, purple, blue across pale skin, an adam’s apple, that throat wrung for too long, head spinning with aches and dizziness - oh, is he going too far? Crow’s eyes are glazed well beyond panic, his useless tugging coming to an end as his hands spasm and fall.

Nick lets go.

Eerin fights so hard to get his breath back, to suck down all the oxygen he can, but it’s so quiet. The gasps are only air, no frightened sounds. There’s no grunting, no sobbing, no hapless pleading. Just stuttered, textured breaths broken up by involuntary exhales, his own body making it more messy, more complicated. His mouth is wide open, his brows are furrowed with upset.

Sadly, bruises don’t form instantly. Nick supposes he’s just going to have to spend all day with Eerin here on the floor. He’ll have to take breaks so his arms don’t get too tired. Magic will suffice to keep Eerin making wonderfully small, quiet, desperate sounds with only his breaths.

A backhand knocks Eerin’s head to the side. It doesn’t startle a gasp out of him - sudden demoralizing pain doesn’t surprise him. He’s had plenty of it. But no one, no one in his life, has ever spent all day choking him.

No one will ever get to see him as beautiful as he will be by the end of it. A throat ringed with dark bruises, a sheen of sweat across his skin, eyes long since unfocused, arms numb and useless in struggling. He’s going to be the most beautiful thing in the world.

Jaw stretched as wide as it’ll go, Crow doesn’t scream. His body tries, but can only force out silent exhales, ragged and raw.

His arms are twisted up behind his back. Nick’s hands are wrapped around his, keeping those arms twisted as far as they’ll go, Crow’s wrists crossed between shoulder blades that stick out like they’ll cut through that dull skin.

The magic in Nick’s hands has shattered his friend’s wrists. He squeezes them, and a rush of adrenaline courses through him as Crow takes a hitching breath.

Such incredible agony the young man must be in, but he can’t voice it. Why stop, then? Why not drive him absolutely mad with boundless, bottomless agony? Why not spend all day, every day, working on him, breaking things? Magic pressed in over and over, snapping bone, twisting joints out of place, crushing fragile things like wrists and ankles? He could do that. He wants to.

Crow does his little not-scream again, and Nick realizes with no ounce of alarm that he’s really cranking those arms too high, too far, twisting the shoulders. He felt the thunk of the joints being shoved out of place and didn’t even notice, he’s so used to doing it.

“Aren’t you sweet,” He murmurs without releasing his forceful shoving grip one bit. “Silent. It’s so peaceful, hurting you. I know you’d like to be able to use these arms again. I just want to ruin them, though, want to see you lying in a pile all shattered. I could do it, you know. Lay you out on the floor here and press magic into you, starting from your feet. Break every inch. And you’d still be alive by the time I reached your head! And still silent. Sweet, sweet Eerin.” Those arms are released, to the sweet music of an uneven inhale loaded with unspoken agony.

“I’m so glad you came to see me today.”

#whumpee: oc #whunper: oc #mute #injury #restrained #whumpee & whumper #txt: story