loreleiloon

[loreleiloon]

FACES OF WHUMP: Game 2 [OPEN]

Time for me to whump your darlings! DM me a faceclaim gif, some art inspirations, and/or moodboards of your whumpee. You can request the type of whump you want them to endure. Since the first game became so popular, I'll have 4 openings available this time! DM away! (If your DMs can't get through, comment on this post and I'll DM you.) 1/4 sets selected. When I choose your whumpee/whump pairing, I'll tag you when I post.

[loreleiloon]

"Just--just promise you'll let my friends go," Whumpee bargains, "I'll do what you want. Whatever you want." Monster Whumper licks their jaws, "They entered my labyrinth, of their own free will," they slink closer to Whumpee, "But you didn't want to. Why did you join them?" Whumpee's heart lodges in their throat. Dumb Caretaker and their stupid friends decided to come here, to prove to Whumpee that the dark creature of the caves didn't exist. That the abandoned mine really wasn't a deadly labyrinth leading to the lair of Monster Whumper "It's my fault," Whumpee says, finally, "If I hadn't told them about you--" A hiss, a swish, and suddenly Whumpee feels a heavy, oppressive presence looming over them. Yellow eyes gleam at them from the shadows. "You believe in me?" Whumpee's heart flutters a little. "Y--yeah, I've read about you for years. I think I know more about you than anyone else."

It's a bold claim to make, Whumpee knows, but they can't help feeling proud of themselves for their research.

But suddenly, a heavy, musty collar snaps shut around their neck. The chain attached to the collar collects at Whumpee's feet, making Whumpee fall to their knees.

"I've waited for someone like you..."

Whumpee feels themselves dragged into the shadows.

"W-wait! You didn't promise!" Fingernails claw on earth, desperate to halt the maw of darkness swallowing them up. "Whumper, please--Promise!!"

The light snuffs out, the world is gone.

All that remains is a lingering growl. "I promise..."

[loreleiloon]

Whumpee crawling into bed besides Whumper. Because the nightmares get too big when they're alone. And even though Whumper pulls them too close and never covers them completely with the blankets, it's better to sleep with a nightmare than be unable to wake from it...

[loreleiloon]

There's nothing more disheartening than never having had a depressive episode in your life and then suddenly crying your guts out for four days straight and you can't even pinpoint why...

[loreleiloon]

ever think about leaving Whumpee tied up in the rain? What's their position? Is there mud? Do they slip? Are they clothed? Gagged? Does it feel like they're being waterboarded? What's the season? Is it thunderstorming out? Most importantly, what are they being punished for?

[loreleiloon]

"Come now, take it off...you don't want me to do it, do you? Then take it off...good." *pats their knee* "Now sit down..."

[loreleiloon]

Nonsexual nudity is great. I raise to you nonsexual exploration of Whumpee's body. Medical Whump: Whumpee is the perfect patient for Dr. Whumper's experiments, so whumpee is thoroughly examined every day. Dr. Whumper pokes, prods, and feels inside Whumpee's orifices with distant, gloved hands. Like Whumpee is a disease that can't be touched, but will be studied. Pet Whump: Prospective buyers seek certain sizes, shapes, and colors, same as they do with any domestic pet. Of course Whumpees are always pet, told to sit, and walked around on leashes. But let's not forget, too, the "backyard breeders" who check how well Whumpee will be able to make a litter for them to sell. Piercings that indicate if a pet is spayed or neutered Beast of Burden Whump: Hnnnnngh, this one is the best. Whumpee forced into so many burdened positions to ensure they're up to the task. Biceps squeezed, bodies forced down, mouths checked to be sure Whumpers can force in bit gags that act as reins. Kicked down and whipped to make sure they go faster when prodded to because dumb beasts don't understand orders. (Branding?!?!?!) ✨ Nonsexual Body Exploration ✨

[loreleiloon]

"Ah, forgive me. I didn't mean to wake you...hush now, it's alright...don't be frightened...does that feel good, hm?" *a soft chuckle and a fanged, nibbling kiss,* "it does, doesn't it?...oh dear. You're blushing..." *low murmurs that disappear against worshiped skin* "And you wonder why I can't get enough of you..."

[loreleiloon]

FACES OF WHUMP: Submission 3

Here's the faces of whump submission for @it-is-whumptastic 's character Kingsley. Think I went a little off the deep end, but I hope it's still enjoyable <3 (TW for needles and medical tubes)

Bright, unforgiving lights burn her eyes. Kingsley wrenchs at the leather straps that bind her to the steel bed. Where is she? What happened? She remembers climbing into the old pillbottle warehouse, hoping to score a haul, and then her memory blanks. But she's not gagged, she's not even undressed. Whoever caught her only peeled off her weatherbeaten jacket, leaving her ill-fitting, stripped tanktop to hang awkwardly on her frame while her tan shorts sit too high. She must have been dragged around a lot on the bed. She pieces this all together to guess that her captor isn't worried about her being rescued. They're also not rapists. She doesn't know if she can count that as a win yet. Maybe they're just not turned on by gingers. Kingsley listens for any movement in the dark--the blinding lights all but kill any hope of seeing beyond the edge of her metal bed. Or metal plank with rails. She feels a sudden urge in her throat to scream for help, but is afraid to summon her captor back too soon. As if in answer, a heavy thud shifts beside her. Kingsley snaps in the direction of the sound, chest jolting unevenly, but jaw set. She sees a sheen reflected from a metallic surface, and the glare of two glasses shining from the dark. "Ahh, you're awake now," he breathes a sigh of satisfaction, like the last hum of a dying generator, "It didn't feel right starting while you were sleeping."

Kingsley's blood freezes in her veins. It's him, the doctor freak holed up in the abandoned warehouse. Rumors had warned her to stay away, but she'd needed the medicine. That shit traded at a hefty price. She'd hoped to trade a bottle of aspirin for a few mags, maybe even a glock if she haggled right. Cold, metallic fingers draw her hair aside. Kingsley lurches away from the hand, spitting in the doctor's direction. "Don't touch me, you freak! I got nothing!" "Oh don't worry, you barely scraped the top of my supplies. Honestly, I would have let you take them, you're so clevee," he finally leans into the light, a lean man with a hulked left shoulder and long gash over his clouded right eye. Or maybe the glasses' lens is dirty, "But you know, I haven't been able to test how potent these pills really are. And I couldn't think to send you out into that cold, dark night, who knows what monsters are out there? You look like you're already met a few..." His real hand roves over the bruises left on her legs. Kingsley tries to kick his hand away, but the ankle strap only cuts into her foot. "You fucking know all about being a monster, wouldn't you?" she spits at him venomously. The spittle catches on one of his lenses. Standing to his full height beside the bed, he removes his glasses calmly. Kingsley watches as a thin appendage flicks out from his metal arm and wipes the spit off. It folds back into his arm with a satisfying click. Returning the lenses to his face, he chuckles, "Here's a riddle for you. Are all gingers spitfires?" the thumb of his metal arm breaks apart from the rest of his hand, transforming into a needle and syringe as Kingsley sees a large cannister of neon green fluid lies tucked within the arm, "Or do they just hate to take their medicine?" Kingsley's eyes snap open in terror. She yanks away from him as far as she can, body writhing desperately. "Help! Someone help me!!" she screams with her whole chest. "Please!" Her voices returns to her as a tinny echo. Wherever they are, it's reinforced in steel. The doctor holds her waist with his real hand, pulling her back down. "Now, now, you don't want the needle to break off in your arm, do you?" "Get away from me!"

He tries to bring the needle to her shoulder, but she squirms out of reach until her wrist bleed from the struggle. What terrifies her is he's not even angry, just holds that same twisted smile on his pale face. As he bends closer to whisper, Kingsley lunges forward and bites his cheek. His head snaps back at once, but his metal fist slams into her throat, pinning her down. The grin she'd momentarily chased away returns. Unable to move, she feels the sickening itch of the thumb as it slips under the arm. The thick needle buries into the soft flesh of her neck, and she feels the pulsing throb of the medicine as it feeds into her body. "Stop it--" she chokes, the blood from her nose dripping down among the oils of his arm, "Please, stop..." "Not until I take care of you," he promises softly, "Doctor's orders." She can feel his real hand rubbing her stomach gently, as if to comfort her for the horror she's being subjected to. By him. Kingsley imagines kneeing his chest, or headbutting his forhead. But his threat keeps her in place. She's terrified of breaking the needle into her skin. The medicine is starting to take effect, though. Kingsley's body stiffens on its own, falling limp in a state of induced paralysis. "W-wha--what did you--?" "It's alright, just let it move through you," he tells her. Kingsley sinks into a numbing state of warmth and immobility. "That's it, that's it, take your medicine," the doctor gives her waist a final pat before moving down to her legs. "Doesn't it feel better? Not quite so tight?" He pinches her calves, tests her ankles. Her muscles scream to jerk away from his hands but she can't. She can't even muster a word through her parted lips. As the arm pulls away, another appendage flicks out to wipe the blood on her nose. The hand reassembles itself as the doctor drips a topical cream onto her bruised calves. "Look at this, you've really left them hurting," the doctor sighs, massaging the cream into her skin. "You're not dressed for the elements, girl." Her heart lurches in her chest. She hates it, hates how gentle he is, hates how aware she is now of every hidden crevice in her legs. The cream is cold and the air makes it worse so she'll be aware for awhile. He moves up now, pushing up the edge of her tanktop.

"Nnn--nngh!"

"Are you pregnant?" he asks, with genuine worry in his tone. "I didn't think of that before I injected you..." the metal fingers break apart and reassemble into a flat line. A scanner hovers over Kingsley's stomach and womb, the results projecting on the screen nestled on the back of the hand. After a few tense moments, the doctor freak sighs in relief, "Not pregnant. I knew you were a clever girl," he cups her chin, "You need to be careful of the outside world. People might do anything to you." Kingsley feels a tear rest on the end of her eyelashes. She can't blink it away. "Now, let's give you some nourishment," he pries her jaw open and forces a tube inside. "Here, we'll pump it to your stomach." Kingsley feels every push, every agonizing adjustment as the tube moves through her body. Finally, when the doctor believes he's pushed it through enough, he flicks a switch on a pump. Kingsley feels warm liquid pulsing into her stomach. She can't taste anything by the dry plastic of the tube, but the sensation feels comforting. She doesn't remember the last time she had a full belly. The doctor keeps a few fingers on her stomach, then shuts off the pump when he feels its comfortably filled. Her body begins to relax, lulled to a sense of safety. "There now, I told you I would take care of you," he says. "Are you comfortable, girl?" Kingsley won't give him the satisfaction of an answer. She doesn't want to be comfortable, doesn't want this monster to enjoy his sick perverted "care" for her. But the aches are starting to soften, soreness begins to ease. She barely registers the change in lighting, the movements above, the sudden shouts of the doctor and gunfire that answers... Everything feels so warm...

[loreleiloon]

Faces of Whump: Submission 2.5

Hey hey, all! Here's my whumping piece of the lovely @sorrowful-hyacinth 's character Malik De Lir. Hope you all enjoy!!

Malik didn't remember how it went down, the fight between his crew and the merfolk. In a sense, it didn't matter how the fight started because how it ended was the sea captain being trussed up in seaweed, dangling inches over the surface of the water. The merfolk had created a tribunal of sorts, a place to condemn Malik for his many sins against their people. The captain was too proud to give a rat's ass what they thought about his crimes. What was on his mind was the humiliation of hanging upside down, wrists tied to his elbows, legs wound together tighter than a furled mainsail. His long fiery hair hung down unchecked, half of it already submerged in the waters beneath him. Malik was too focused on trying to worm his hand free to listen to the first crime they accused him of, but it was probably pelting a merskin. He was only jerked out of his focus when he felt the kelpline lowering. His initial instinct to cuss out the merman lowering him was soon replaced by a panic in his throat telling him to take a deep breath. He did so, milliseconds before his face was plunged into the freshwater of the mercavern. The waters rode up to his shoulders but went no higher. There was no need. Malik's head was completely submerged underwater.

He kept his poise for a few minutes, conserving his strength because he knew movement would force his need for air faster. The bastards would no doubt have fun dunking him for some time to come. And while he couldn't ignore the steady panic rising (or, in his position, falling) in his chest, he knew enough about sadism to be confident they wouldn't kill him yet. He just had to ride out their boners. He knew how sadists worked.

But as he waited for that telltale tension in the kelpline, the sign he was going to be lifted up, it never came. The panic was throttling him now and when he forced it back down, it moved to his body. Malik began to twitch and writhe on the kelpline, like a wriggling worm on a hook. His torso contracted, desperate to lift enough for his lips to break the surface of the water. He felt the air graze his chin and nose as he came up, but the air he attempted to breathe in swept in the water droplets he'd displaced. Water rushed through his nose, burning his nasal passages and exploding in pain behind his eyes. The shock made him drop back further into the depths, but now with no air left. Desperate, Malik swung the other way, hoping the force would lift his head enough to let him breathe in air that way. But though his cranuim broke through the water, his long hair, untethered and now soaked, hung down over his eyes. Blinded, he did not know he was mere centimeters from being able to gulp in the lifesaving air. His strength failed him, his lungs screamed in agony. Spent, Malik fell limp, deeper into the water, his mouth falling open on its own to claw for air the depths could not give him.

His body twitched of its own accord, desperate to right itself. Filling his mouth, the water crawled up his throat in a thick, unwanted invasion. His vision grew dark. Pressure compounded in his head. Then a yank on the kelpline. Bubbles burst around his neck as his head was pulled up. Water tumbled from his open mouth but Malik's lungs drank in the air faster than the water could escape. He coughed violently, the hollow sounds burning up his already smarting throat. Saliva mixed with freshwater dripped from his lips. He heard the merfolk demand an answer from him. To what, he didn't know. "G-go--go to hell--" he rasped. The kelpline went slack at once. Malik was swallowed up by the waters.

If he thought knowing what came next would keep him calm, Malik was sorely mistaken. His body writhed violently in place, twisting in every possible way to escape the water. The kelpline lowered further until he was in up to his waist. Merfolk began to swarm him. Fingers meshed in his hair, nails clawed at his shirt until it was torn open. Water rushed within, filling the space between cloth and skin. Feeling the rush of water increased his panic. He felt hands clawing at his belt, viciously attempting to drag him further. Or snap the line entirely. And yet, abruptly, the kelpline wrenched him from the fury of the merfolk. Malik nearly vomited the water from his stomach as he was pulled up. He heaved like a dying dog, his torn shirt hanging as though a layer of broken skin. He heard their question this time: a demand for repentance, for retribution. Or he would face death. Malik said nothing. His chest bled from the scratches, his hair had been torn off in handfuls. But his silence said enough for the merfolk. The water drew near a final time. "No--n-no--!" He choked as his forehead parted the ripples again. But then the line tightened. A pause, a call from beyond the tribunal. A rush of murmurs throughout the throng. Malik lurched as the line dragged him to the thin sandbar at the edge of the tribunal. He was dropped onto the sands. They clung to his wet clothes and hair, threatening to cloud his eyes. Yet, finally on solid ground, his defiance began to return to him. Malik forced himself to a sitting position. He hated how his bound frame and drawn up legs resembled the ways in which the merfolk sat. But just as he attempted to adjust himself to a more manly position, a familiar voice finally penetrated through his thick skull. "He's mine." Malik's eyes snapped up at once. And somehow the air in his lungs didn't seem enough anymore. Opposite him stands a glistening merman of unmistakeable beauty, dark hair cascading around the thin, naked shoulders. The merman's eyes pierced his, "I want him. Alone." Malik drew his shoulders closer, his body stiffening with an understanding of what was to come. "Well…fuck me."

[loreleiloon]

- Female Amateur Hero x Male Doctor Villain (pt.4)

"Please--" Hero gasps as she's pulled up from the water yet again, "I really, really want to stop--"

"You're stuck in there till Supervillain lets you out. Consider this an extended exposure therapy session," and he begins to push her down again.

"You're trying to drown me," she chokes, fighting back now to keep her chin above the surface of the water.

Villain is growing tired of her stalling, "That would violate every HIPAA law in the book. And I hope I could drown you on purpose when you're in a whole flipping water tank."

As if to prove his point, he holds her neck down with one finger. His middle one. Her body trembles, but anger is making headway over her fear. "Then why the fuck aren't you?"

"You tell me. You know all about what villains do, don't you? " he says, matching her exasperation now. His arm is starting to hurt, "Go on, spout something else Superhero's told you. Since they were too busy filling your head with propaganda to teach a supe how to fucking swim--"

"My dad drowned, okay?" It strangles out of her chest like she's lost all her breath to say it.

Villain releases her neck, as if she had zapped him again. A silence hovers over the water.

Letting her float, Villain pushes his fingertips together. "When--?"

"Years ago," she shrugs it off. The way she's practiced she should, "I was a kid, y'know. I don't really remember what happened."

"Hmm. So supes really are bad liars," he smiles.

"Nice condolences, asshole," she says, biting the words past the lump in her throat, "What do you want me to say? It was traumatizing."

"Right, right," he says, voice a little softer. Then he leans closer, protruding into her peripheral. "So…who told you it was your fault?"

Her gaze snaps to him. In the split second before she can recover herself, she's sure she must have shown too much: grief, guilt, years of self-blame piled on top of a crippled nervous system. "If I'd just waited…"

"How old?"

"Tenth birthday. Riverside party."

He cusses under his breath, but she can't tell if it's at her or at the story period.

"That's why my gene's dormant," she says, "After everything that happened--when he--his powers couldn't do anything, we--we didn't know the river was so deep."

"Was your dad a supe?"

"Not in the river," she laughs, but the sound is too tight.

"So your powers are no good underwater," he gives a wry smile, "Does that mean your body has to be?" Hero glances up at him, eyes misting. "What do you mean?"

A crackling sound shrieks over the intercom.

"Doc, honey! Bossman needs you to--hey! I'm talkin' here--!" the sound thins before a deeper voice takes over, "New shipment, doctor--get to the loading bay."

Villain cocks his head towards the sound. His eyes get a distant look in them.

"Is that for you?" Hero asks.

With a wry smile towards her, Villain pushes himself away from the edge of the tank. "Just think about it." He gestures to where the intercom sounded from, "Stay put for me, yeah?"

He shouldn't smile at her frown, but he does. When the doctor reaches the loading bay, he finds only brute villain standing by.

Villain frowns, "Where's the new shipment?"

Brute shrugs, "No shipment yet."

"Yet? Who is it?"

"Your patient, doctor." Doctor Villain turns to see Supervillain standing by a shipping crate. "She's been here long enough. We need to send her out."

"What? No, no," Doctor shakes his head, "Come on, Boss, this is a chance of a lifetime. Do you know who she is?"

"A highly unstable spoiled brat with augmented powers."

"Oh, no, no, her powers aren't augmented, Boss," Villain hurries to a nearby computer port. His fingers burn up the keys as he searches. "They're fucking planted. In every supe we've tested--Codex, Dew Man, even Wavefinder--they've all had the ophrin-ethyriod cells in their blood. Even in the blood O types."

"And? That changes nothing. She's a new mutant freak who won't last long once her cells rupture. Maybe she'll get lucky and go quick," they gesture to Brute, "Go prepare her for transport. Swainey owes me a favor over in Bellport."

Brute villain shifts on his boots, headed towards the med bay.

"Just hold on--" Villain says, "Ha! I knew it! Boss, look."

Brute pauses as Supervillain peers closer, "…well. It looks like her."

"Read the name, Boss. Lainey Xi, daughter of late Samuel Xi and his surviving wife--"

"Get to the point."

"who owns XI Laboratories and Researching. They're in the drug business."

Supervillain nods to Brute to continue on to the med bay.

"Boss, remember the Superhero back in the day? Nova Kane? God, the news couldn't get enough of him. But 15 years ago he just disappeared? We knew he had to have died, but we didn't know who he was," Villain points to an article showing the late mogul's funeral date. "Today we found him. And we've got the heir to XI Labs floating in a our custom swimming pool."

Supervillain takes this in, hesitating but keeping their cards close. Villain strikes while the iron's hot. "She's Superhero's kid. And she doesn't have a single ophrin-ethyroid cell in her veins. They fucking need her to succeed at being a supe, Boss. It's the family business."

His boss's brow raises. Doctor's feeling good about this now.

"You want to get revenge on Superhero, right? That payload we always promised? Let's do what he never could," the doctor looks back to Hero's picture, "Let's make a star flower."

The door slams open. Brute Villain stands in the doorway, head and shoulders soaked. Supervillain reacts at once, but Brute jerks a thumb behind him.

"Back there. Won't come up."

Panic seizes Villain's throat. He dashes past Brute out the door. Bursting into the med bay, his ears burn from the screaming vital machines. Wires flay open across the ground. One machine lies smashed on the floor, knocked over by Brute no doubt.

Hero floats just beneath the surface, suspended in the pool. Lifeless. Her dark hair moves with the water, haloing her head like a black hole. Her eyes are almost closed. She's not moving.

"Fuck--!" Villain chokes. This can't be happening. How could he have been so stupid to leave her alone? He lurches forward like a man possessed, catching the tank edge before desperately reaching in to drag her body out. "Shit, shit, shit! Fucking idiot--"

Hero's face splits through the water surface. In the split second that Villain sees her eyes wrench open, a jet of water shoots from her mouth.

Which catches Villain square in the eye. Cussing, he jerks back. The pain in his arm screams and he loses his balance, falling down completely. "Oh shit! I thought you were the other guy!" Villain lifts his head to see Hero floating in the water, high enough so she can peek over the edge. Combustion billows from her palms, the sparks creating bubbles that buoy her up. A makeshift propellant. Pulling himself to his feet, Villain can't conceal his pride, "So. What happened?" Hero flushes, "I thought about it." "I hope you're ready to do more, Starflower," Villain glances behind, as he hears Supervillain, Villainess, and Brute Villain converging on the spot. "And then I'll be let go?" It's a whisper, a quiet hope she dares to speak aloud. Villain looks at the bubbles around her palms. Then he meets her eyes, his words a murmur back. "You think I can hold down a shooting star forever?" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ previous: part three TAGLIST: @fa1rie, @w4nd3r3r123456 LET ME KNOW if you want to be removed or added to the taglist for this series!

[loreleiloon]

Game where a group of Whumpers are edging whumpee to climax. Bonus points if Whumpee is actually into the game and is holding out for the Whumper they like best.

[loreleiloon]

does anyone here know @incognitowarlockwhumpblog ? They haven't posted on their blog in two weeks and that doesn't seem like them. I just want to make sure they're okay. I'm starting to worry... 😥

[loreleiloon]

Hear me out: A Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde type of story but instead of Mr. Jekyll's experiment producing a drink, Mr. Hyde is an abomination caused when an Eldritch being/parasite takes over the body of Dr. Jekyll and molds it how it likes. Imagine the Jekyll whumpee character trapped within this prison of flesh, bones breaking, skin shrinking, body contorting in excruciating ways. Then their new possessor opens their eyes, forcing them to stare at the reflection of the hideous monster they've been shriveled into.

"Don't you look so much better now?" The Eldritch whumper Hyde says in the final seconds before Jekyll Whumpee is forced to surrender control; tortured with agony in the knowledge that tomorrow they'll wake hearing about crimes their body committed while their mind was caged by Eldritch Hyde.

[loreleiloon]

Ugh I love your posts, your whumpers are so otherworldly and powerful and delicious. I loooove the dynamic.

Do you have any thoughts about making your whumpers likeable besides through raw power (making readers want to root for them?) It's hard to show personality without showing vulnerability, especially in immortal or eldritch beings. I'm asking because personally I always like to make my whumpers either 100% unlikeable, or make readers hate to love them. How would you go about this with that kind of whumper?

firstly, thank you so much for your kind words! It's so much fun to create whumpers who are charismatic as well as delightfully vile. 🤭

As far as how to make them likeable, the best way to do that without them necessarily showing vulnerability is to have them genuine care for the whumpee. Or at least, have a measure of a moral code when it comes to whumping their Whumpee.

Example: Whumper has prepared some delicious tortures for Whumpee, but Whumpee is close to tears due to exhaustion and hunger. Noticing this, Whumper makes a fuss about how "they couldn't possibly torture Whumpee while on an empty stomach and their plans will have to wait." Then Whumper has brought forward some easy finger food (ironically the type that would settle an upset Whumpee's stomach more than it would fill Whumper's stomach.) Whumper begins to eat and then sighs drolly when they "notice" Whumpee keeps looking towards the food. "Well, I might give you some if you beg for it." Whumpee does, but it's very feeble, certainly not the show Whumper deserves. Still Whumpee is permitted to eat. This cycle continues, but Whumpee is ordered to beg less and less. Soon, Whumpee forgets they had to beg at all. They can't remember the last time their belly felt so full. They don't even process Whumper's fingers massaging that sore spot between their shoulderblades. Leaning against Whumper's knee, Whumpee lets their eyes drift until at last they close. But they can't help wondering, wasn't Whumper about to torture them?

So I got carried away, but you get the gist 😅 Another very effective to make Whumpers likeable w/o showing vulnerability is if Whumpee is the one who shows vulnerability and Whumper doesn't deride them for it.

Example: Whumpee finally loses it. Screaming, crying, yelling at Whumper. They feel lost, weak, hopelessly used and Whumper doesn't care. Finally, expecting the full brunt of Whumper's fury, Whumpee crumbles into themselves, sobbing on the floor. A pregnant silence follows, with Whumpee expecting at any moment for a whip to come down on them. Instead, Whumpee sits opposite them on the floor. Slowly, methodically, Whumper lists all the ways that Whumpee has pushed themselves beyond their limit, borne more lashes than anyone else, crawled back from ODs so often even Whumper has lost track. Whumper looks so intently into Whumpee's eyes, that Whumpee is sure their soul has just been opened wide. "I don't do these things to you because I want you to die, Whumpee. I do them because I know you, more than anyone else, can beat me at my own game."

Well, those are just a couple examples. If I keep going, I'll never stop lmao. But if you have any other questions or have a specific Whumper of yours you'd like me to give tips on making more likeable, just hmu. It's easier to provide tailored tips if I have a little more insight into the Whumper you have in mind.

So yeah! Hope this helped a little bit. Tysm for the ask 💖🥰

[loreleiloon]

Faces of Whump: Submission 2

Second submission for @laurenpiplupfluff2 for her characters Aurelis Surrett and Black Solstice. Hope y'all enjoy! Red. Bright, warm, encasing red. Aurelis finds herself swirling in it, swimming but never moving out of place. She can't tell if this red matter is a case all on its own or if it is enclosed in glass. Not that it matters, though. "Why are you so hard to catch?" she hears just to her right. Turning with difficulty, she sees a young man dressed all in a sleek black. He's leant against a desk, arms crossed. "Even with all of my red matter, you still managed to get away from me all night." Aurelis blinks, "That was you?" "Who else?" he scoffs, offended that she didn't remember. "I wasn't even after you. I was trying to get rid of that smugglers ringleader but you keep getting in my way." "Why didn't you tell me?" Aurelis snaps, feeling hot and sweaty in the red matter bubble, "I could have helped you!" "You were there to stop me," he answers, "Nothing I said I was going to change your mind." "And this will?" she demands. She hates that she knows if he talked to her, she would change her mind. She's too embarrassed to tell him why she was following him that night. "We're past that now."

He snaps his fingers and the red matter dissipates. Aurelis lands heavily on the floor, wind knocking from her lungs. "Please, just let me go and I promise--" A collar of red matter cinches around her neck. Gasping, she pulls at it frantically, but a long chain grows from the base of it. Link generates from link like a twisted vine made of metal. Soon, two red shackles clamp around her wrists. The weight of the vines keeps her pinned down. Horrified, Aurelis shoots ice towards her dark captor. Caught off guard, he stumbles back as one of his hands in frozen to the desk surface. The chains begin to dissolve. Aurelis wrenches to her knees, trying to stand. She shoots another two ice attacks at him. But [name] yanks on the chains at her wrists. The ice missiles wrench to the sides, harmless, as Aurelis collapses, her wrists screaming in pain. By the time she can force herself through the pain, she feels the red matter swallowing her up again. Not fully, as only one of his hands is unfrozen. But it does hang over her like an unwelcome cocoon. Aurelis tries to shoot at the red matter but the ice crystals only wedge themselves in the rim of the red matter. She hears him finally wrench his hand free from the glove she froze to the desk. "Yeesh, I was just going to chain you down. I thought you didn't like the red bubble." "I don't," she hisses. "I just want to be treated like a person, not a fricking lava lamp." He rubs his hand briskly, "You'd make a beautiful lava lamp," he sneers. Aurelis feels confused, "No, I wouldn't. I shoot ice." Sighing, he shakes his head. "Forget it." Aurelis feels a little flutter in her stomach. She can't help looking towards his hand to make sure she didn't hurt him too much. "You'd make a nice snow globe," she says. He blinks at her, "...what?" She's glad the red matter is concealing her blush, "Nothing. Never mind." Is there a flush on his cheeks too? Or is the red matter just getting brighter? A silence hovers in the air. Aurelis settles comfortably on her wrists. "So...can I get out now?" "Ugh, not until you promise to stay out of my way." She feels the collar tighten around her neck. "I wasn't trying to get in your way, dummy!" "Then why were you following me?" "I wanted to meet you!" And she buries her face in her arm. "Cuz you're just...you're so cool, I guess...?" It's horrifically embarrassing to admit period but she had to make it worse. "But I shouldn't have tried," she says, her throat tightening on its own now, "You're just a mean jerk." The red matter around her softens. She feels the chains dissolve, though the collar remains in place. She hears him approach her and kneel down. It takes several taps to her shoulder before she finally looks up. She sees his hand--the one she froze to the desk--extended towards her. "Valerian. I'm...Valerian."

She frowns, watching his hand as if it's a trap. But at length, she places one of her hands, now unshackled, in his.

"Aurelis."

He helps her to her feet, but still holds her hand. "Just--promise you won't interfere when I'm working. It's dangerous."

She permits herself a smirk. "And I'm not?"

"That's why I'm asking," he says, leaning closer, "Aurelis."

The butterflies in her stomach explode in her chest. She doesn't know why he would care but hearing her name on his tongue somehow makes up for that.

"...okay. Valerian."

[loreleiloon]

conversely, a lot of average people become way more attractive once you connect with how they think

a lot of people be attractive until you see how they think