#baby's first whump

[mindonmymoneyandmoneyonmymind]

ngl i think THG trilogy is like the ultimate introduction into whump

[vegaseatsass]

You know, these past two episodes I was thinking to myself, Su Yin is almost perfect in every way, simply the ideal devoted, protective, loyal, dedicated sworn brother, call him Da-ge indeed!!!, but my one piece of constructive criticism is that he needs to learn how to give real hugs - he does a lot of manful shoulder clasping, but Xiaobao is a shivering chihuahua desperately in need of cuddles and body heat, you gotta HUG THAT BOY - but now I see that Su Yin's hugs are simply reserved for his horrible little gremlin of an imperial cousinwife.

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 8: put your head on my shoulder! @whumperless-whump-event

migraine / light & sound sensitivity / “i can close the curtains…”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Archie

whumpee: Simon

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“Simon! I’m here and I have the takeout!” Archie chirped, letting himself into his friend’s apartment. It felt odd not crashing through the window for once.

As he passed the threshold, he was caught a bit off guard by the.. silence.

Simon was not a loud person, not at all, but he always at least had some kind of music playing or TV show on, and he even sometimes hummed his way through tasks around his home.

No, this eery quiet was wrong. It felt off.

“Simon? Did you hear me? I’m here and I have your food! The sooner you get your butt out here, the sooner we get to have our Star Wars marathon!” He repeated, putting a little volume behind his voice.

Then, he heard it. An unmistakeable groan coming from Simon’s bedroom.

“Simon..?”

He set down the bags of takeout on Simon’s small table in the kitchen and padded over to the bedroom door. He tapped a knuckle against it.

“Simon?? I know you’re in thereeee,” Archie teased.

Nothing. No response. Not even a groan like before.

“Dude, if you don’t say something, I’m coming in."

A beat.

Then 2.

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Archie murmured, before pushing open the door.

Suddenly, everything made a little bit more sense.

Illuminated by the afternoon light streaming through Simon’s windows, he opened the door to the sight of his friend curled up in bed, every pillow and blanket pulled around his head. 

He let out a pathetic grunt.

“Could you talk any louder?” Simon muttered, pulling the bedding tighter.

Archie breathed a soft laugh as everything clicked. When he spoke again, he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“How long have you have your migraine so far?” He asked, ignoring Simon’s hostile tone and sitting beside him on the bed.

“…A few hours now..” He mewled, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“That’ll do it,” Archie huffed. “Why aren’t your curtains closed? Can’t imagine the light is helping much..”

“Couldn’t.. I couldn’t get up to close them..” Simon breathed, shuddering at the thought of leaving his cocoon of pillows.

Archie let out another breathy laugh. “And you get angry at me for not calling when I need help..” He murmured, getting up and taking care to shut every curtain tightly. He could see Simon visibly deflate as the piercing light finally let up.

“… I’m sorry..” He said, voice muffled by the pillows.

“Hm?”

Simon lifted his head slightly.

“I’m sorry.. for snapping earlier.. and for ruining the movie marathon..” He whispered.

Archie felt his heart clench in a way that he would have to decipher another time. No, for now, he just sat beside his friend and placed a warm hand on his back.

“Don’t worry. This just means we’ll take a rain check, and the next marathon will be twice as long.”

Simon let out an annoyed groan, but there was no heat behind it. In truth, he couldn’t be more excited.

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[feroluce]

When Al Haitham dreams, it's in shades of sandy blonde and red, metallic gold and feather-blue. His nightmares are colored much the same.

Kaveh leisurely strolls ahead of him, shoes leaving deep treads in the soft desert sand. He keeps a careful distance, arms length, and in return Al Haitham keeps an eye on him, the other man's back dead center in his sights.

He curses the sand in his boots and the long line of footprints he steps into, already the exact shape of the soles of his shoes.

They aren't lost. Al Haitham knows where they are. They've been here before. They are still here.

Kaveh doesn't watch their feet. His head is constantly tipped back with his eyes on the stars and their constellations (of which Al Haitham only knows two, Vultur Volans and Paradisaea). He'll walk right into a cactus like that. Al Haitham yells ahead for him to watch where he's going.

Kaveh reaches up to touch the side of his head in a strange motion, but otherwise there's no acknowledgement. They press on into the dark of night.

Something squelches beneath Al Haitham's boot.

It stops him short, pulls his attention like a magnet and as much as he wants to, he can't ignore it. He doesn't want to lose any more ground. But something won't let him move on. Al Haitham watches as red seeps into the golden sand, spills beyond the border of his bootprint until he slides his foot aside.

It's an ear.

It's a human ear, and there's a heavy earring attached, metallic gold, gems red and green, a familiar shape, a familiar shade-

Al Haitham opens his mouth to yell. Chokes. Swallows the lump in his throat as he quickly restarts his pace. Tries again.

"Hey!"

Another squelch under a hurried footstep. He doesn't stop to look. Al Haitham is pretty sure he knows what it is.

"Kaveh, hey!"

The path becomes littered, little slices and small pieces, fingertips and knuckles, Kaveh's arms once held casually behind his back now strewn along the sands. Every time Al Haitham extends his hand to him, reality warps and bends like the twisted image in a broken mirror, lines mismatched and edges jagged. Kaveh flits just beyond his grasp, fleeting fae, no longer able to hear him or to reach out to him. Al Haitham can only grit his teeth and follow.

His right foot marches forward. His left follows. His right again. His left suddenly doesn't follow, and Al Haitham is thrown off balance and pitches forward, swinging his arms outward to land on his palms and keep his face off the ground, because he's been in the desert enough times to know what a foot suddenly being stuck can mean.

Quicksand.

Al Haitham curses and swears in just about every language he knows as he tries to spread his weight as evenly as possible, stay afloat at the top of it because if he sinks, he knows he'll be done for, and shit, Kaveh.

His neck cranes uncomfortably in his search, Kaveh had only been a few feet in front of him, he can't be sunk much further, and he's in the desert much more often than Al Haitham anyway, he'll be familiar with what to do-

Kaveh stands in front of him, empty sleeves fluttering loose. Still just out of his grasp, still watching the stars. The quicksand is already up to his calves.

"Say, Al Haitham..." It's the first he's spoken this whole time. His voice resonates somewhere deeply nostalgic in Al Haitham's chest, produces a ripple that momentarily stuns his heart.

Kaveh is sinking.

Al Haitham stretches out on his belly as far as he's able, it's quickly up to his knees, Kaveh isn't even trying to redistribute his weight or pull himself out, it's at his thighs, Al Haitham sucks in a breath and yells for him, his hips, yells louder, his waist, Al Haitham's trembling fingertips can almost reach, his chest, Kaveh drops level with him, quicksand about his neck like a noose.

Kaveh's head tips back, back, impossibly far back, until it hangs, angle awkward, and he's looking right past Al Haitham with his tired smile and gouged, blinded sockets full of starlight.

"Do you believe in karma?"

The quicksand swallows him entirely and Al Haitham dives, shoves his arms deep and pushes off with the one foot he'd had left on safe ground, because he can't, he can't, it's not the same without Kaveh, not anymore, he needs him, no one else keeps him sharp, no one else challenges him like Kaveh, if he can just grab him, if he can just pull him back up-

Al Haitham thrashes, against the sands, against gravity, against the hardwood of his bedroom floor. Clumsily scrubs the back of his hand across his face to rub the grit of quicksand and sleep out of his eyes.

Sometimes he thinks he preferred it when the Akasha was still harvesting his dreams.

He pops his head out from under his weighted blanket and lays where he'd fallen out of bed for a moment, blinking blearily against the lamplight shining from his desk in the corner. Deep breaths. His consciousness shifts along the blurred line of nightmare and reality, crosses over the slow transition into wakeful awareness.

He's home, Kaveh is home. It's dark out. The house is dead silent.

He's just going to go check, he tells himself as he peels himself out of his sweat-soaked shirt and roots around for a replacement. He's already losing memories of his nightmare, the details spilling away from him like wet ink, but he knows he needs to see Kaveh. It'll feel better to do something, anything, than try to go straight back to sleep.

He's quiet when he slips out of his bedroom door, because they both keep late hours but their bedrooms are right next to each other, and Al Haitham will never hear the end of it if he wakes his roommate up.

Lights off, door shut. Nothing conclusive. He moves out to the main room.

Kaveh sits on one of those ridiculous sofas he'd ordered three of for some reason, back to him as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. A mostly-empty wine bottle stands tall on the table, next to the cobbled-together remains of an architectural model that's been picked and fussed over for four days straight now.

"Kaveh? What are you doing?"

This earns him an exaggerated startle, but Kaveh doesn't turn to look at him, preoccupied with whatever new sketch or blueprint he probably has in his hands. "Ohhh, nothing," he slurs cheerfully. "Just working. Just thinking."

Kaveh has always been the world's chattiest drinker. Al Haitham waits for the rest of it.

"Say, I think...I think I asked you this years ago, back then, but you never answered me." Al Haitham feels all the blood drain from his face in ominous familiarity, drip cold down the length of his spine. Kaveh sinks into the couch until he can tip his head over the back of it, looking up at him with a tired smile and exhausted eyes.

"Do you believe in karma?"

[whumpski]

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency S1E1

[daniwib]

New fic announcement!

I am very excited to announce that I have begun plotting my first ever horror fic!!

It’s going to be very angsty & whumpy for a certain Buckley-Diaz family, Eddie in particular mwah ha ha ha ha!

This gif kinda gives the vibe I’m going for.

[the-scrapegoat]

Out of curiosity, what was some of your whump awakenings growing up? Multiple answers are fine I just wanna know

[volfoss]

It is genuinely so frustrating how fandoms sees a disabled character and then make content of them w no research of their condition

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

hot

[whump-card]

Is AI allowed on the subreddit? Someone keeps posting AI stuff there

I put it to a poll on r/Whump:

If you have strong feelings about AI, especially whether AI should be allowed in a creative community like ours, please make your voice heard!!

Please boost this post if you can!

[tinywhumper]

tiny’s first whump

h-hello, pls have my very much nothing really happens but kinda something still happens whump drabble??

thanks to @a-crumb-of-whump for encouragement! imma try to tw/cw this properly but gimme a shout if i need to add something ^^ tw/cw: whumped caretaker, whumpee edges into whumper territory, idk what it’d be called but like … irritating an existing wound? by like poking it? and stuff? lmk if there’s an official term or something! whumper watches them through camera

—

whumpee is just so tired. they can’t hardly keep their eyes open, but they need to keep awake, alert for signs of whumper returning. it’s cold in the room, the cement hard beneath them and grime digs into the bonnie’s of their knees, shins, ankles, the sore, thin-skinned tops of their feet. a half shudder shakes through them, oddly making saliva pool in their mouth. and then caretaker groans from their place in whumpee’s lap. whumpee blinks down at them, one hand already going to caress their temple and cheekbone. they wish they could whisper some sort of comfort but petting back caretaker’s hair is draining what little energy and focus they have. they need to save some to keep watch.

their breath is heavy in their chest with a gravitational pull that threatens to make their sternum, heart, lungs, ribs, everything cave in. caretaker looks torn in their sleep. a line between their brow and the downturn of their lips display their discomfort even in rest. whumpee’s lips tremble and that vast, yawning thing within them threatens to swallow them hole. staring down at the obscene swelling of caretaker’s dislocated shoulder is like staring over into an underwater trench: terrifying and beautiful in a dark, enthralling way, calling them to fall over the edge and into the unknown and nothing.

whumpee’s hand, shaking, trails over the blue, purple, black without thinking. despite the flinch of caretaker in their sleep, the jumping of their skin, whumpee lets their aching fingers press into the mottled bruise. the swollen, tender flesh gives as blood and other subdermal fluid moves as whumpee presses, pokes, pinches, exploring the thing in front of them like a toddler presented with something new.

it isn’t until caretaker cries out in their sleep that whumpee notices what they are doing, that caretaker is crying. tears run down caretaker’s face, slipping into their hairline, running into the hollows of their ears and starting to soak into the feeble excuse for a pillow that whumper gave them. with a flinch whumpee jerks their hand from caretaker’s shoulder, fingertips burning and bile roiling in their stomach. they were hurting caretaker, they hurt them. they clutch their hands to their chest, the urge to utterly tremble crossing their mind, yet they don’t, they remain frozen as they stare down at caretaker. acrid guilt pools in the back of their throat, the taste of shame. whumpee presses a hand to their mouth to quell the sudden panting breathlessness that hits them, making them whimper.

caretaker squirms in their lap like they were still trying to escape whumpee’s painful prodding and exploration. whumpee hesitates to bring a hand to caretaker’s temple and hair again to soothe them back into a deeper rest. only when caretaker settles does that tempting trembling take its course.

whumpee stares at caretaker’s face, searching for any sign to anything but sleep. they nibble at their fingertips as their panicked breathing, having run its course, starts to ears. what in the world had they been doing? why had they done that to caretaker? what possessed them? why were they fascinated by what they did, drawing that pain, feeling that plush give of flesh, why did they want to do it again?

whumpee glances around the dingy room again and listens, listens for any sign of whumper as they try to gather themselves. when they find nothing, hear nothing and their breath no longer hitches, hiccups in their chest whumpee’s gaze turns back to caretaker.

in their lap, curled mostly on their side, face upwards, caretaker seems so small. whumper knew how to break down even the stronger ones, and my gosh, caretaker is so strong— they held on for so long, until their body gave out. until surely some part of them had to acknowledge how out of place they were for trying to help whumpee beyond whumper’s strict commands. that they should stay their role, do only as whumper says and allows.

whumpee is unaware of the frown on their lips nor the way their eyes narrow as they look down upon caretaker. they don’t feel the pinch of their brow as itfurrows in some unfamiliar and overwhelming rush of anger.

slowly, as though caretaker would wake upon the slightest move, whumpee lowers their hand. they hover over caretaker’s shoulder, nails brushing featherlight, for several dreadful seconds as their heartbeat rises into their throat, ears, eyes, thudding harder and harder with every next beat. they squeeze down. it’s gentle at first, of course, then a little more and a little more. careful, measured increments of pressure and then starting to bear their weight down, torn fingernails cutting in. the more they bear down the more that floaty, absent sensation of before drifts in. they can’t feel anything, thinks anything as they dig their fingers and nails into caretaker’s shoulder with one hand and then both in a cruel mockery of a massage. they watch as caretaker’s chest heaves and they twist - still sleeping - away from the pain. whumpee follows them. they even go so far as to use one hand to pin them in place, hold them right where they want them.

whumpee isn’t sure how long they abuse caretaker’s shoulder. but they do know that when they are done, they feels less tired than they did before. sleepiness does still drag at their eyelids and dirt still digs into their legs as they resume watch for whumper.

—

whumper leans back in their chair, thumb stroking over their chin as a slow smile furls up the corners of their lips. the monitor in front of them flickers gently as the frames load in the live feed of their basement. it’s a little difficult to make out, but there is definitely something of a smile on whumpee’s face, something more relaxed about them after that pretty, petty show. this was unexpected, yes, but not detestable, no. no, whumper decided, there was no need to correct that behavior. it could bloom quite beautifully.

[whumpbug]

GUYS IT'S TIME. i now introduce.....

THE SCARAB CREW!!!!!! 𓆣𓆣

(scarab is the name of the ship they are all on do you guys get it. because. whumbug. beetle. scarab. the ship is shaped like a beetle--okay im done)

the vibes/tropes are: sci-fi/space fantasy, dysfunction junction, found family, accidental child acquisition, AND MORE!!!

HUGE thank you to @lemlem21 for listening to me Yap about them and helping me iron out a lot of the details!!! also for recoloring some of the skincolors!!!!

i apologize in advance. this is a long post. please please feel free to ask questions because this can get confusing. there are 6 characters all with complex traits and names so please ask me for clarification if you need it! i apologize for all the reading guys (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥⋆)

OKAY! ONTO MY SPACE SILLIES! they are Everything to me.

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THE EXPEDITION PROGRAM (TEP):

okay just before i start, i want to briefly explain why all these people are together on a ship.

in this universe, theres a central government that spans across many planets in neighboring star systems. this is known as the Provinces of the Allied Galactic Empire (PAGE). this is the explored and "civilized" part of the galaxy.

recently, there have been more attacks on PAGE-affiliated planets and systems from the unexplored galaxy (known as the Outer Sector, or just Outsec in shorthand) and PAGE intends to get to the bottom of it.

and that's where Scarab Crew comes in! multiple teams were formed of people with exceptional talents in their species/planets and were sent on multi-year long exploratory missions under the name The Expedition Program (TEP). the scarabs are one team of many!

TEP's goal is to record and report all that they find as well as identify threats and/or the planets responible for the attacks. they are to come back with information and new technology that would make PAGE stronger and more well-rounded!

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NOW ONTO THE SILLIES!! i used different picrws for each of them to match their Vibe

(also i added pronounciation guides to the best of my abilities i hope it helps im sorry in advance)

✮⋆˙

Captain Nieven Alaric (Nee-ven Ah-la-rik)

pronouns: he/him

role: captain/leader/correspondence with PAGE

planet of origin:  Asto’is (species: Asto’isian)

age and height: late '30s to early '40s / 6 ft. 0 in.

description: the competent, calculated, and and cold head of The Scarab. he was a well-off government official before TEP, but unfortunately, he lost his family in an attack by Outsec rogues. he is a man hardened by life and unwilling to get attached to others again and because of this, is very efficient when it comes to running his ship. still, efficiency is not always the most important thing when it comes to leading a team. this is something nieven must learn.

species-specific traits: horns on the top of the head-- very interconnected with the central nervous system. decorated as a sign of age and/or accomplishment. also, asto'isians have pointy teeth! they are carnivores!

✮⋆˙

Hari Khurana (Huh-ree Ku-rahna)

pronouns: relaxed he/him

role: engineer/medic/chemist

planet of origin:  Earth (species: Homo Sapien)

age and height: mid to late '30s / 6 ft. 2 in.

description: a simple human that started from the bottom. hari grew up in a trailer park, raised by his older sister when his father worked 3 jobs to put food on the table. since he was little, it was known he was a genius when it came to stem subjects. into adulthood, he excelled in every stem job he took on. still, no one expected him to get singled out when TEP was recruiting. aside from his smarts, hari is cheeky, sly, a bit of a Bastard™ but he also has tremendously big heart. he's passionate about what he does, no matter how hard it can be for him sometimes.

species-specific traits: despite his brains, hari is... a defective human. due to malnourishment as a child, he has a plethora of health problems that worry his team to no end. some include: asthma, lactose intolerance, allergies to many foods, marie antoinette syndrome, POTS, among others. he is also a below-the-knee amputee on his left leg due to an accident in his teens.

✮⋆˙

Nylathrania (Nyla) Qifir (Nye-lah-trah-nya Kee-feer)

pronouns: she/her

role: pilot/navigator

planet of origin: Harye (species: Haryen)

age and height: mid '20s / 5 ft. 7 in.

description: the haryan are an extremely superstitious, winged race that place an extreme importance on flight. when a child was born with in inability to even lift her wings because of nerve damage, you can imagine it did not bode well. nyla was passed around from household to household with no place to call home. she wants to prove herself to her homeland by becoming the most successful pilot in TEP with her pride and joy of a ship, The Scarab, but even that will never make her good enough for her people, and consequently, herself.

species-specific traits: the bat-like wings and short horns are trademarks of the haryen people. unlike nieven's, nyla's horns are simply bony-keratin structures as extra protection for her brain. her wings are a bit smaller than other haryen's due to muscle atrophy.

✮⋆˙

Ytzel (Zel) Mixca (Ee-tsel Micsh-cka)

pronouns: relaxed she/her

role: gunsman/conflict strategist

planet of origin: Huelxa (species: Huelxcan)

age and height: mid '20s / 5 ft. 4 in.

description: born to a planet of war, zel grew up around bloodshed and violence throughout her life. in her culture, getting close to people was discouraged becasue you never knew who would be on the other side of the next civil war. she was often forced to fight her siblings and friends (to an extreme level) as a test of strength, so she comes off as abrasive and rude because violence makes her feel in control. it's a familiar pattern. she hasn't yet learned that love does not need to be painful.

species-specific traits: the huelxcan actually have a second pair of arms! these arms sit slightly more towards her back, in the middle of her rib cage. the huelxcan people also have evolved with enhanced hearing, and wear accessories on the ears to enhance it further.

✮⋆˙

Vin’ri (Vinny) L’aoh (Vin-ree Luh-ow)

pronouns: they/them

role: scribe/recorder/photographer

planet of origin: Z’edin (species: Z’edinra)

age and height: late teens (17-19) / 5 ft. 9 in.

description: vinny is heralded as the voice of reason when tensions are high amongst the rest of the crew. they are level-headed and approachable, making them an instrumental member of the team. but their secret? they're so lonely. in their culture, it's customary to stop being affectionate with children when they reach about 14 to encourage growth and independence. vinny didn't have a problem with this at first, but now that they're so far from home? they feel the need for comfort more than they'd like to admit.

species-specific traits: the z’edinra all have a prehensile tail that is about an armspan in length. it is capable of grasping, and can hold their body weight. also, z'edin is an ice planet which leads vinny to be prone to overheating in even mildly warm environments quite easily

✮⋆˙

Ren "Alaric" (Rehn Ah-la-rick)

pronouns: he/him

role: healer/newest member (not with scarab crew initially)

planet of origin: Siea W5M (species: Amb’toman)

age and height: about 7 years old / 4 ft. 3 in.

description: ren's parent's were killed when he was only 4, and he was taken to Seia W5M to be sold as a commodity-- his species is sought after for their abilities. he was under the ownership of a man for a few years before he escaped and has been on the run ever since. he covers his eyes with a blindfold to conceal the signature trait of amb'tomans-- white scleras lacking a cornea. because of his years blindfolded, light tends to overwhelm him. he is skittish, flighty, and in need of people who will take care of and love him.

species-specific traits: the amb'toman are a desert-dwelling species that evolved healing abilities to cope with the harsh climate. the short version of how the abilities work is essentially: people spend a certain amount of energy to heal themselves of injury or illness. ren can spend that energy all at once on himself or another person to heal them exponetially faster. the draw back is gets extremely sleepy after healing, and tends to be unable to stay awake

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

RELATIONSHIPS: ask me about them!!! there are Some romantic relationships but i also love platonic and familial relationships so ask about whoever you'd like! i'm aiming to start the story early on to when they first meet so it'll be fun to develop their relationships as i write!!

PICREWS: 1 2 3 4 5 6

BONUS: here is all their height differences (ren is itty bitty guys)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

and that's it!!! thank you SO much if you've read to the end, it honestly means so much. and like i said before please please PLEASE dont be afraid to ask as many questions as you want (about specific scarabs, or the crew as a whole but just know if its the crew it might not be as detailed because. theres 6 of them.) these characters can get confusing and i want to make as easy of a reading experience as i can!

i hope you enjoy my little passion project and im so excited to develop these sillies further!! (✿◦’ᴗ˘◦)♡

tagging: @sethlost and @mellowwhumps (≧▽≦)

[brutal-nemesis]

Yeehaw we gettin tagged by @whump-me​ (tyyyy) and posting 7 snippets from our writing (or wips but i am a wipless bastard atm 🤪) and i have decided to do some Silly Castys Moments (and also some Erebus stuff ig 🙄)

Warning for some gore probably it’s Nemi writing so yk but I’ll try to keep the really bad stuff outta here (there also some armputation and guy going crazy and starving to death over and over you know the drill)

1. Local silly guy does in fact regret it very much

“I don’t really want you, per se, but a certain…friend of yours.” Castys stiffened, and he heard a faint laugh. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t. I’ve got a lot of friends, you know, and-” something slammed into the metal above him, cutting him off.

“Don’t play dumb with me; you know exactly who I’m talking about, and you’d better tell me where I can find him or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Please, do your worst. I already regret so many damn things so I don’t think another one on the pile will do much to me, to be honest,” Castys mused, wiggling against his bonds slightly.

2. The worst fmk in existence gets you stabbed

“Hey, guys, fuck, marry, kill for rice, pasta, and bread, go. I think for me, I gotta say fuck bread, marry rice, kill pasta. Don’t get me wrong, I love some noodles, some noods, but, like, man. Have you ever just, like, had some bread? Insane. I would fuck bread. I don’t wanna fuck anything, but boy I would fuck the bread. And rice, man, she’s so dependable, she’s always there for you. What I would want in a spouse if I wanted anything in a spouse. This game wasn’t really designed for me, and yet, here I am. So, c’mon, what’s it from you two? You’ve gotta have-Hey, Danny boy, got an opinion you’d like to share?” Castys smiled up at the man now standing in front of him.

Daniel rolled his eyes before putting his asshole face back on. “Just do something useful for once and hold this for me, vermin,” he said with a smile, lifting Castys’s shirt and gently sliding the knife he was holding into his abdomen. Castys just sighed, way too used to being stabbed to really care much about this.

3. Ripping your arm off but it’s a Phineas and Ferb reference (this one is probably the most gory of all the snippets fyi but it’s not too bad)

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness.

4. Lmaoooo bitches trapped in a cell for like 200 years

Every three days. Thirst. Weakness. Dizziness. Death. Was it three days? Is that how long you could last without water? He tried to count, but the numbers got lost in the haze all too easily. There was no way to mark the stone, to keep track outside of his head, the blood wasn’t being washed off him anymore. He had nothing, nothing at all, just here and himself and the unyielding stone. The square of sunlight would move across the cell, the only motion to break the constancy of everything else. It was the same day repeated over and over and over and over and over and it was the same just the same nothing ever changed, ever, ever, it was the same-

Something wasn’t the same. The leather muzzle that had kept him silent for so long had been slowly rotting, and it finally fell off. For a moment he simply stared at it lying there on the ground, broken, dying, fading away. He opened his mouth for the first time in decades. And he screamed, because that thing got to rot away and disappear and he wouldn’t, he would always be here, hungry and thirsty and alone and trapped and alive and it wasn’t fair, not at all, and he screamed because it had been so long since he was able, he cried because it was all he could do.

5. Erebus’s iconic sit down protest ✨ (it does not accomplish anything in the end)

“You are coming with me. As of today you are my property, so you will do as I say. Resistance will only make things more difficult for you. So you will walk, or you will be dragged. Your choice.” Erebus initially felt a bolt of fear shoot through him, but looking down at her scrawny frame, he realized that she likely couldn’t carry out her threat.

Dragged? He’d like to see her try.

Erebus sat down on the ground and looked expectantly up at Neteri, one eyebrow raised. She huffed and narrowed her eyes. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she tugged on the chain as hard as she could, but it did little more than make him lean forward. She sighed. “Okay, you have a point there.”

6. More Erebus and Neteri shenanigans because she’s right he’s being a drama queen

“You can’t just do that! That’s-you can’t just amputate my arm!”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d freak out.”

“Of-of course I’m freaking out! You want to cut off one of my limbs, for Drottkia’s sake!”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m going to give you a new one right away. So at the end of the day you’ll have the same number of arms you started with. It’s honestly not worth getting that worked up about.”

7. New phobia alert!! (warning for centipede on guy)

He felt it, it was on him, dozens of little legs pitter-pattering across his skin, crawling on him. “G-get it off. Neteri, please, please get it off.” It tickled the back of his neck, around the base of the section of skin she’d replaced. “What’s it doing Neteri plea-” she clamped a hand over his mouth, her thumb rubbing against his cheek as he whimpered.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay Erebus. I’m just seeing if it can connect to you, I promise I’ll take it off when I’m done.” Connect to him?! What-what did that mean-oh it had stopped crawling around it was just sitting there it was on his back what was it going to do to him what did connecting mean was it-Erebus felt a momentary pinch at the base of his neck, and suddenly his limbs starting moving, wriggling in the restraints all on their own. Neteri removed her hand from his mouth and looked down at him expectantly, her other hand still gripping his tightly even as his fingers twitched uncontrollably. “Are you doing that?”

“N-no I-I’m not moving I’m not doing that why are they doing that I can’t stop it is it doing that to me make it stop make it let go please-” Tears were streaming from Erebus’s eyes but he didn’t care he just wanted that thing off he wanted it gone he wanted control of his own body back he’d always had that even when he was tied up and strapped down he’d always had that-

And there we go hope that either a fun time on memory lane or at least made you laugh a little

Taggin uhhhh @galaxywhump @yet-another-heathen and @painsandconfusion (mainly because i know you will want to read the Castys content 💕)

[swagship-sideblog]

Blood loss based whump here we go

Imagine you have your favorite little guy strapped to a chair, with a tube sticking out of their arm drawing blood out slooowly, and with the tube draped over their arm they can feel the heat of their own blood leaving their body and filling up a little bag hanging under them, the blood dripping and continuously inflating the little bag with so much more volume they could expect from it, and they just stare and stare, and after a while they start to look pale... sweaty, sickly and terrified.... at this point you don't need to tie them down because they know the more they move the worse they feel (you made sure they know).... you can just watch them panic as they feel their stomach churning, and the bile rising in their throat, and they try so hard to hold it in, so they just lay down and stare at the ceiling.... and by now it's time to take the needle out, you yank it out of them (painfully) without giving any warning. You don't even bother with giving them a bandaid. They stare at their arm as the blood flows directly from their arm, at a rate faster than they've ever seen it flow. It starts as a little droplet, but quickly overflows. They're panicking even more at this point, you arent helping, they dont want to bleed out, they don't know what to do... and you can't decide how it goes after that :3

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I’m just in the mood to torture Kim this months apparently

[whumptea]

part two to this !!

“please,” whumpee begs, their tears mixing with the blood that’s dripping from their nose in smooth, cold coils. “please don’t send that to them, i—i fucked up. don’t make them feel any worse, please.” but whumpee can’t help but feel like maybe they deserve everything that’s been happening to them, too. maybe this is karma. maybe caretaker would be delighted to see them like this.

whumper snickers and grabs a fistful of whumpee’s hair as they lean down across from them. “do you… really think they’ll want you back after all of this? i mean, what you said to them was… wow — that’s enough to keep someone away forever. do you usually do this, hm? is it normal for you to fuck up every relationship you’ve ever been in?”

and it’s that question that makes whumpee’s blood still. their weight goes numb against the chains holding their arms in place, and the only thing keeping them present in the moment is the cool surface of the basement wall against their head. “i… i guess so, yeah. i don’t expect them to forgive me. i deserve everything that happens to me down here.” their response makes whumper grin with malice as they grab a knife from a small table nearby and begin to drag it across their captive’s body.

“good,” they whisper against whumpee’s ear, “that’s what i was hoping to hear.”