syncopein3d - Tumblr blog

[syncopein3d]

Space Marines

[syncopein3d]

Caretaker seeing a normally stoic and confident whumpee, now cowering, shaking and terrified because of whatever the the Whumper has done to them.

Drugs, shock treatment, mental torture - anything.

The harsh contrast gives me chillssss

[syncopein3d]

✞ 666 ✞

[syncopein3d]

A wakes up dazed and in searing pain to what sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball only to find out that it's actually B on their hands and knees coughing up blood. Noticing A awake, B assures them that whatever injuries caused this aren't life-threatening -- at least not compared to the state A's in.

And A... really can't argue with that because they need medical attention now.

[syncopein3d]

Whump prompt:

Exhaustion that is so deeply felt that you can barely move at all, your arms and legs feeling like iron rods. Then the physical exhaustion combined with the emotional exhaustion of the situation and it forces down your emotional walls and you end up just sobbing in the middle of your room.

[syncopein3d]

I did an rp once where my partner's vampire canon was that there were two kinds of vampires: fledglings (turned by being fed an elder's blood) and elders (turned to elders from fledglings by a process they kept secret). Fledglings could only feed on humans and each other but elders could only be nourished by fledglings (human blood was potable but they would eventually wither on it, like rabbit starvation).

Anyway my point is, because the elder process was secret and not easily discovered by accident (unlike turning human to fledge), fledglings could easily be hundreds of years old, strong, able to practice some level of mind control, and VERY sure of themselves.

So it's very possible, in this canon, for an older fledge to yank some smaller person who smells alluring into an alley only to realize WHY they smell alluring too late. They're holding the delectable victim up against the wall when they look down into bright, bright eyes and feel themselves floating, irresistibly, into the grip of another will. It feels amazing. They have only a moment, as their body starts to relax, to wonder if this is what it feels like to their own many victims.

"Aren't you adorable," says the elder, twining their arms around the younger's neck to pull them down into reach. "We're going to have SUCH fun."

vampire whumpee snatching someone off the street and into an alley in a desperate attempt to feed from them, but halfway through they realize who and what their victim is. perhaps the victim is another, much stronger, much more dangerous vampire, or perhaps something even worse?

[syncopein3d]

Riot Kings, page 179.1

first // prev //

[syncopein3d]

Did you know most people survive being stabbed? Movies and tv shows increase the likelihood of this by showing people stab someone once in the abdomen and then stop and wait for them to collapse and die. The Fallout show obligingly shows the much more likely outcome of this in episode 1.

Most people have enough fat and muscle in their abdomen that the average knife can't reach anything vital from the front (and even from the back it isn't that likely). I'm not going to cite sources. You can mojeek/duckduck it, just like I did.

Anyway, whump things from this.

1) Stab your characters in the abdomen. They'll probably live, but it's gonna HURT having a new hole in the muscles you use to stand up. It's going to be hard to walk and move around.

2) A survivable stab wound can still get infected, and often does because of the stuff the stabbing implement introduces to the wound.

3) If you want someone to NOT survive a stab wound, like your caretaker has finally lost it and taken something sharp to the abuser of their friend or frenemy, don't stab once in the abdomen. Stab 25 times in the chest. Ideally right up under (or if they're a practiced villain or a rogue or something, between) the ribs. Under the arm would probably work, but it seems to me like a real outside chance getting in there.

I may or may not be using this soon but in case I don't, I want it percolating in the brains of my fellow freaks out there. : )

(Another parenthetical: it's also not tremendously unusual for someone to survive being stabbed a lot of times. The stabber is usually frenzied and not very accurate, and blades get fouled by clothing or glance off the ribs on an overarm swing. This is also something you might consider for your characters.)

[syncopein3d]

always always a fan of the character whos been wounded in the abdomen and being helped to walk by their friend, arm slung over their shoulder or around their waist, up until the moment the pain or weakness catchess up to them and their steps falter and they sink to their knees, desperately trying to muster the strength to stand again

[syncopein3d]

I always enjoy when the camera drops with them

Heroes, s1e11

[syncopein3d]

Heroes, s1e11

[syncopein3d]

Yes, your worldbuilding is thorough, your geography meticulous, your plotting elaborate, and your characterisation nuanced, but answer me this: is there a fucked up little guy?

[syncopein3d]

Character A hears a knock on their door and looks up from what they were doing, confused. No one ever came to visit them, so why would someone want to now? Meanwhile, an injured and delirious Character B stands outside, shivering, their blood mixing with the frigid rain.

A opens their door to find someone they’ve never seen before, in an absolutely horrible state. B looks up, seeming confused for a moment before realizing their mistake.

“Oh, sorry,” they mutter, “wrong house.”

“No, no, come in.” A says sympathetically. They didn’t know who this was or what heppened to them, but they couldn’t just leave them there.

[syncopein3d]

draining you of a little more blood than your body can handle so i can take care of you all day while youre all loopy and weak for me

[syncopein3d]

With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

[syncopein3d]

Severe hypothermia is great but as someone who has experienced mild hypothermia, I think it needs more credit.

You don't need medical attention but everything just feels wrong for the hours and days afterward. You can't regulate your body temperature right. You're cold and shivering but the blankets and sleeping bags you're swaddled in have you sweating because youre body hasn't decided you're safe enough to send blood back to your extremities. You want to warm your hands and feet but know that's going to send the cold blood right back deep, deep into your core like daggers.

Dress warmly when you're out on lobster fishing boats y'all...

[syncopein3d]

Whumpee falls through ice on a frozen lake.

Shaking. Trembling. Freezing. Teeth chattering. Turning blue. Delirium. Hypothermia. Exhaustion. Passing out.

Caretaker probably sees it happen too, and might even have to get them out of the icy water.

That’s it. That’s what I have.