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[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 26: How Could You?

CW: hero whumpee, suffocation, captivity, magical torture

Hero snaps back into consciousness with a startled jerk. His senses return all at once, and with them, a sickening weight of dread.

Sidekick’s betrayal. Hero’s capture. His containment in this glass cage. More like a coffin than a cage; hero barely has enough room to lift his arms. At least villain put him to sleep. An unexpected mercy that makes hero’s dread even worse.

“Ah, you’re awake. Perfect timing.” Speak of the devil: villain is standing in front of the coffin, observing hero’s waking with an amused little smile, his right hand outstretched.

“You’re the one who woke me,” hero mutters. “Get out of my face.”

The smile morphs into anger, and villain takes a step closer. “You’re in no position to give me orders, hero,” he hisses.  “Not like that.” He turns to the side and gestures someone forward. “And you have sidekick to thank.”

Sidekick. Hero’s breath catches. Sidekick moves into the light, already wearing villain’s insignia. He can’t—won’t?—meet hero’s eyes.

“How could you?” hero whispers.

But sidekick remains silent, focused on his feet as the walls close in around hero, as he gasps for breath and his body craves movement. He might as well be buried underground.

Villain raises his hand again, fingers poised toward hero’s coffin. “It seems like your precious little sidekick has nothing to say. Ah, well. It’s time for the fun to begin anyway.” His fingers twitch, and just like that, hero can’t breathe at all.

His lungs strain—his hand grabs at his throat—lights flicker in his vision as he struggles to breathe. But there’s nothing there. No air in the glass coffin. Nothing but pain, and terror, and sidekick’s horrified gaze as hero suffocates into darkness.

[blackrosesandwhump]

My OC Nathaniel

Thanks to a recommendation from @tildeathiwillwrite, I made my new OC Nathaniel!

(picrew used: Bright's Picrew Hell)

Jump in and make your OCs, if you want :)

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 25: Brace Yourself

A/N: Featuring my character Gathin Holloway, the MC in Sword of the Half-Human.

CW: bleeding, blood, vampirism, monster whumper

Each breath brought pain, burning in my chest with each inhale, but the creature had only fallen back, and I had seconds before it attacked again.

Brace yourself, master, came the sword’s warning in my head.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, adjusting my stance in the snow. I felt breathless, weakened, and her words only served to remind me how wounded I already was.

I would rather not have to bleed out for the sword to do her work.

The creature wheeled around and faced me again, eyes glowing in the darkness, claws digging wild grooves in the layer of white. My blade was ready; it caught the creature across its hideous neck as it leapt on me, cutting a deep swathe that immediately bleed black. With a horrible, screeching cry it reeled backward, blood arching through the air, to fall in its side, where it writhed and shuddered with the same horrific screeching.

Now I really did brace myself, panting and silently begging my body not to fail me. My own blood was seeping darkly from the jagged lacerations the creature’s claws had inflicted on my chest. The sword remained silent as together we watched the monster convulse itself to death, its blood spattered across the snow.

“It’s time,” I said aloud, my voice oddly muffled in the cold and ice. “You can drink now. But be quick, because I can’t stand up much longer.”

I’ll only be a moment.

The ravenous force I had come to know so well shimmered like heat against the blackness. The monster’s blood rose spiraling from the snow, pulled toward the blade and vanishing into it as she drank.

And then she stopped. For a moment, everything fell deathly silent.

Master, something…something is wrong.

I felt it: a quaking, shattering wrongness uncurling from deep inside me. From deep inside…her.

The creature’s blood…poison…changing me…please, master, you have to—

A wild cry, echoing the monster’s dying wail. The blade wrenched herself from my grip, throwing me off-balance. I dropped to my knees, stunned and speechless, still bleeding.

Then my own horror began to unfold.

@forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumping-to-conclusions @whumping-out-of-time

[blackrosesandwhump]

*gasp* I just realized I never actually read this, but I just did, and I love it! I love the attitude and details and sarcasm 🤩

Whump Prompt 123

Write something using this concept:

An immortal thief is hanged for stealing.

What happens next?

[blackrosesandwhump]

What are some chronic illnesses that can only occur in a fantasy setting?

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 24: No Time to Rest

CW: 2nd pov, emotional whump, dying mention

As you sit in the back corner of the café, sipping lukewarm black coffee, exhaustion starts to creep up on you. You feel it weighing your limbs down, overtaking your body slowly and steadily. That’s not good. You can’t let it overcome you, not when whumpee is running out of time. Your failure means whumpee’s death.

Another bitter gulp of coffee. You jump up, more loudly than you meant to, silently yelling at yourself. Get back in the game, caretaker! It’s all up to you! You can’t fail! You can’t let whumpee die!

“Closing in fifteen minutes!” the barista calls, wiping down the front counter with a cloth.

Avoiding the glances of the two other customers as they awkwardly unfold themselves from their chairs, you push the jingling glass door open. The night is cool, and the breeze refreshes you just a little.

Time to start the night’s work. At least you have a lead this time, a lead that might just take you right to the cure that whumpee needs. Cures for curses of this particular type aren’t easy to find, but you can’t give up.

There will be no rest as long as whumpee lies bedridden and dying.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Oooooh. Hmmm...

Bram would die and come back to life almost immediately, bloody but otherwise fine. At least physically. Mentally is a whole different matter...

Ciaran would just...not die, because his heart can't ever stop beating.

Whumper testing the limits of an immortal Whumpee.

A cut, then a burn, then a severed tongue. A fatal shot, a cup of poison, the snap of a noose gone taut. Whumper tries all of this and more, but Whumpee cannot die—at least, they cannot seem to stay that way. No matter how much they might want to.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 23: Brain Fog

Part 1

CW: magic whump, um...that's about it

Oryn stumbles up from the cellar, squinting as he passes from near pitch-dark into sunlight. Though the witch’s house is dim compared to the brief life he glimpsed at Griffin’s circus, the sudden light hurts his eyes. His mind feels dazed, his senses dulled after the effects of last night’s magic. Oryn had never felt magic before, at least not like that. And certainly not at the hand of a doll girl. Maybe that was a figment of his exhausted, enchanted imagination. The face he saw as he slipped into a dreamless sleep didn’t look real. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe—

And then she’s standing in front of him, poised in the entrance to a room that looks like a kitchen. The same ragged dress. The same expressionless, painted face. The same blank, blue eyes. Oryn stops cold, unsure of his next steps, suddenly afraid.

“Please, come,” says the doll girl. “I made you something to eat.” She turns stiffly and disappears around a corner, not waiting to see if Oryn will obey. Maybe it’s the lingering effects of her spell, but he can’t stop himself from walking forward and following her.

The kitchen is a little darker than the previous room and studded with candles. The doll girl turns from an enormous black iron stove, a steaming pot in her hands. “Sit,” she orders, gesturing at the long wooden table in the center of the room. His mind still fogged, Oryn has only a moment to look around before he finds himself sitting as she asked, waiting as she ladles something that looks like oatmeal into a wooden bowl.

Despite the lurking dread in his stomach, the mixture smells good. Oryn can’t resist taking a bite, even as he watches the doll girl tidy the kitchen with her strange, inhuman movements. Another bite. The warmth releases just a little of Oryn’s tension, and he keeps eating. In the eerie quiet, his gaze wanders, taking in the small details of his new home. Tiny skulls lined up on the windowsill. Glass jars and vials arranged in rows next to shelves of dishes and cups.

And—the sight sends a chill down his spine—a blackened wooden door at one end, secured with locks and bolts that don’t look like anything Oryn has ever seen.

He sets the spoon down, afraid again, and dares to ask a question.

“What’s—what’s your name?”

The doll girl turns her blank stare on him, but somehow, it looks gentle. “My name is—”

Then she freezes, motionless, listening. Oryn’s breath catches in his throat. When she speaks again, the gentleness is gone, and her voice is inhuman again.

“The witch is coming.”

[blackrosesandwhump]

Thanks for the tag!

Though the witch’s house is dim compared to the brief life he glimpsed at Griffin’s circus, the sudden light hurts his eyes. His mind feels dazed, his senses dulled after the effects of last night’s magic. Oryn had never felt magic before, at least not like that.

Gently tagging @cratersofmoon @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @whump-bunny :)

Last line tag

Shoutout to @winterandwords for the tag

Got some new writing done. So here is something from Dreamspinnings

———— ••• •——• •— —— ————————

Those cast out into the Great Night are not entirely lost. Those seeking atonement must endure the Long Road before Al-Gia forgives them.

The first stretch is considered the hardest, as the penitent must live as one they consider their greatest enemy (a fox must spend a lifetime as a bird, and vice versa). After that, they then live as other beings, both plants and animals. The last part of the journey is to spend a lifetime as one of their own kind. Those who do not learn from their mistakes must take the Road again. But those who have truly repented are allowed to pass into the Beyond.

——————————————————————

NP tag @splashinkling @sentfromwolves @poethill @fourwingedwriter @mk-writes-stuff @oh-no-another-idea @smudged-red-ink @jay-avian @bml1997 @little-peril-stories @whatwewrotepodcast and open tag if you are interested.

[blackrosesandwhump]

House of Bone and Wing Masterlist

After a very brief stint at Griffin's Circus of Freaks and Anomalies, Oryn Lockhouse is bought by a wealthy witch. But his hopes of being treated well crumble to dust when he realizes what she has in store for him. To survive the torture, he has no choice but to become...someone else.

Part 1 - In which Oryn is enchanted by a stranger

Part 2 - In which he adjusts (kind of) to his new home

[blackrosesandwhump]

What Did I Dream Last Night, Episode...???

Today's episode features vampire roleplay and self-destruction!

(under the cut because of the self-destruction part)

I dreamed that I was pretending to be a vampire who didn't want to live anymore.

The vampire lay down on her back, held a dagger to her chest, and stabbed herself, then yanked the blade downward so it sliced her open.

And then she reached in and ripped her own heart from her open chest, and died.

And then she did the whole thing again, because, you know, it was fun.

So yeah, that was my dream. I may be a little messed up in the head...😅

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 22: Stoicism Breaks

A/N: Ren is a character I created for Febuwhump here.

CW: emotional whump, captivity

Human weapons aren’t allowed to have feelings. But as Ren stands in front of Jude’s suspended body, he feels himself breaking. His own body, though now a weapon, is still partly human. And the sight floods him with emotions that threaten to drown him.

Cold, greenish light illuminates Jude’s outstretched arms, his colorless, dead-looking skin, the thick vines wrapped tight around his torso and limbs like a monstrous snake. He hangs in place, limp, unresponsive.

And it’s all Ren’s fault. Ren’s fault that Jude was captured in the first place. Ren’s fault that he didn’t arrive in time to save his teammate. No, his friend. Human weapons aren’t allowed to have friends either, but as Ren sinks to his knees, shattered, the truth presses in on him as if he too were being strangled by those unearthly vines.

For some reason, he has friends. And his existence could get them all killed.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 21: Just Hold On

Also Whump Prompt 104

CW: bleeding out, sidekick whumpee, dying, emotional whump

With each passing, excruciating second, sidekick looks a little bit worse. As the pool of blood under his shoulder slowly expands, his face turns greyer, his frantic eyes more empty, and his skin colder. Hero presses his bloodstained hands over the wound, holding back a scream. A scream of frustration. A scream of pain that no matter what he does, no matter how much power he wills into his hands, nothing is working. Sidekick is bleeding out.

“Hold on,” hero begs, tears pricking at his eyes, “just hold on…I won’t let you die…”

Sidekick’s eyelids flutter open and closed. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a trickle of blood down the side of his mouth.

“Just hold on…” hero repeats. The lie tastes like metal on his tongue. At this rate, sidekick is going to die right here in the street.

“It’s really too bad, isn’t it?” comes a cool voice close by. Supervillain. Hero wants to turn and scream at him too. “If only you could heal him. But you can’t, can you?”

Horror turns hero’s blood to ice. The truth dawns on him like the sun on the end of the world.

“You did this. You cursed the wound so it can’t heal.”

“Ding ding ding!” supervillain crows, beaming. “Now you get to watch your precious little buddy die right in front of you. Fitting payback, don’t you think?”

Hero doesn’t have the words to answer. But as sidekick’s breathing gets shallower, he makes a silent vow.

He will destroy supervillain, no matter what it takes.

[blackrosesandwhump]

100 Drabble Challenge: Lab Whump Edition

The challenge: write exactly 100 words about any of the following 60 prompts. Have fun!

Vivisection

Scalpel

Strapped down

Drugged

Injection

Scars

Naked

Disoriented

Under observation

Incision

Bandages

Blood

Experiment

Conditioning

Gloved hands

Cleaned up

Oxygen mask

Sleep deprivation

Nightmares

Privacy

Captured

Anesthesia

Prostrate

Starving

Dehydrated

Recovery

Bedrest

Desensitized

Gauze

Isolation

Uniform

Unconscious

Needle

Cut

Weak

Screaming

Infection

Manhandled

Shivering

Reflection

Dehumanized

Surgery

Torture

Pain medication

Phobia

Abused

Bedsores

Dragged

Sterile

Sedated

Research

Mistake

Begging

Pity

Touch starved

Pain

Damaged

Stitches

Volunteer

On camera

[blackrosesandwhump]

Welcome, Mae! We have a lot of favorite tropes in common 😁

Hello! My name is Mae!

(she/her) A 22 year old student that will make cute people bleed out instead of doing homework! I like drawing and writting. I submitt content whenever I can, if not assume my proffesor buried me six feet under planimetry.

I'm here to whump both humans and angelic creatures, make some worldbuing of the fun kind, and say all kinds of nonsense. I like mainly lab and mediacl whump, religious whump with a bunch of phycological inner workings of my characters so expect my own content to be like that.

If you want to know i'm still kicking, DM about your characters or stories and I won't shut up!

Masterlist

This is where I'd put my masterlist IF I HAD ONE!

Exposure experiment

Arrest

My characters

(profiles and details comming soon)

Émile Finch | 28 year old male, formerly a middle school biology teacher now a prisoner accused of treason and serving sentence in the Research Center (Whumpee/occational Caretaker)

Hans Kesselman | 36 year old male, the oldest son of the RC director and captain of the Heavy Task Division. In charge of both Émile and the angel creature (Whumper)

Unknown angel creature | real age unknown, real gender unknown, real name impossible to pronounce by humans. Goes by Azazel because of and ancient friend, but nobody tell the characters about that. non-human Whumpee)

[blackrosesandwhump]

Welcome! 😁

So ive came across whump half a year ago and decided to FINALLY make a place for all the ideas i have:)

My favourite topics are:

• being whumped for information

• whipping

• hurt/comfort and sometimes only hurt

• broken bones (fingers, ribs and wrists)

• removing fingernails (im bad at writing these, but i will stubbornly try)

• chains

• branding

• defiant whumpee my beloved

• resignated whumpee but not broken

• being forced to watch / taking torture for someone who can’t take it anymore

• bones healing in an odd way (i dunno why i like this BUT THE PAINNN)

• self sacrifice

• medieval/historical whump settings

• shock collar which is not very medieval/historical but eyyy

Topics i will NOT write about:

• noncon

• anything related with sexual content

• pet whump

• conditioned whumpee

i might have forgotten something cause my brain is like: hey. yes you. you sure you wrote everything? im not sure you wrote everything.

But besides that? I think thats it, and im happy to be here and share my ideas and prompts! 😃

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 19: I Need You

CW: poison whump, sickness, fever whump

Your body is wracked with poison. You lie in a darkened room, delirious and sick, unable to lie still as the effects of whumper’s spell take hold and jerk you between shallow nightmares and fevered wakefulness. You can’t sense much beyond the dim light, terrible pain, and caretaker’s presence.

Caretaker bends over you and drapes a cool cloth over your forehead. For a moment, the cool sinks into your skin, and you feel a degree of relief. But whumper’s poison spell is too powerful and the relief is swallowed instantly. A whimper escapes you.

If only it would stop. If only the poison would stop.

And then, caretaker seems to disappear. Weakly, you manage to raise a desperate, shaking hand.

“Please...don’t leave me…I need you.” The words come out raspy. They don’t sound like your voice at all.

Caretaker appears again, smiling despite their furrowed concern. “I won’t leave you. Don’t worry. I’ll be right here as long as you need me.”

You slip back into a dream with caretaker’s reassurance echoing in your mind, and this time, the dream isn’t quite so bad.