#whumpmasinjuly-archive

[viva-la-whump]

Whumpmas in July - Day 3

I'm going to do something a bit different than I normally do with creating things for whump events like this. Instead of a proper story, each of the 10 creation days this month will be a super short mini-chapter of a continuous story set in the Star Wars Western AU I'm (slowly) working on. Let's see how this goes!!

Day 3 - "______ deserved it"

“Okay, that’s it!” Zeb bellowed, swinging a fist at Ezra. He didn’t think it would actually land. The boy was usually so quick and agile that most of Zeb’s strikes missed. So he was surprised when he felt his fist make contact with Ezra’s face and then watched as he went sprawling to the ground with a cry.

The skin around Ezra’s eye was already swelling, a small cut to his left temple had started to trail blood down his face. The bruising would start showing soon enough.

Ezra looked up at the big man, his expression a mixture of anger, pain…and fear.

With a choked-back sob, he scrambled to his feet and started running for the treeline.

“Ezra, wait!” Hera called after the boy, but he’d already vanished into the forest.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Kanan demanded, looking up at Zeb with fury in his eyes.

“What? The kid deserved it! He-”

“Save it,” Kanan growled. “I don’t care what petty argument you two got into. Ezra needs our help and I’m trying to get him to trust us. But your little stunt back there has jeopardized everything!”

Zeb scratched the back of his neck, looking properly chastened. “Look, I’m…I’m sorry, alright? I guess the kid just got on my nerves. I’ll go and get him back.”

“No,” Kanan said, already walking over to his horse and swinging up into the saddle. “You’ve done enough. Finish breaking camp and head out. We can’t delay any longer. I’ll get Ezra and catch up with you.”

The thing Kanan didn’t expect was that Ezra was very good at not being found when he didn’t want to be…

[hardygalwrites]

Prompt: Water

Originally posted under the URL @shsl-whump on July 6th, 2020 for this prompt by @whumpmasinjuly

WARNING: abuse of power, unseen n*dity, verbal ab*se, psychological bullying

(image source)

He rapped his knuckles upon the hardwood door. “Milady? Your mother has arrived.”

There was no answer.

“Milady?” He knocked again. “Are you there?”

Once again, he was met with silence, and received no better results when he knocked a third time. Dread settled in, and he hastily opened the door.

“Milady…?!”

Oh god. He ran into the massive bedroom, looking around frantically. There was no sign of the young mistress anywhere. Dread morphed into panic and terror. He ran into the adjoining room, hoping–

He immediately stopped and spun around, nearly slipping on the moist marble floors in his haste.

“…Yes?” the young mistress said, voice deceptively (and inappropriately) calm.

“I– I–” God, he couldn’t speak. He could feel his face burning. What the hell was he supposed to do?

“Are you going mute now?”

He could see her face in his mind’s eye at her words. Her teeth bared in some predatory semblance of a grin, eyes twinkling with delight at her own mocking words. Except this wasn’t just a case of her bullying him in the garden or the hallways or the dining room or wherever, no, this was in her room, and she was–

Finally his wits returned to him and he made a hasty step towards the door. “I-I’m sorry to intrude, I’ll–”

“Stay right there.”

He did. What else could he do? His heart hammered in his chest. His palms were going clammy, and he couldn’t tell if it was due to the light steam in the room or his own mortification. That mortification only grew when he heard the splash of displacing water.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Milady,” he started breathlessly, “I don’t think this–”

“I didn’t ask you to think,” the young mistress said pointedly. “I ask you one more time, what seems to be the problem?”

Oh god, he could hear her stepping out of the bath. “Yo-Your mother, milady,” he said, voice cracking. “She has arrived with her entourage.”

“Hmm.”

The gentle slap of her bare feet and the pattering of dripping water signalled her approach. He quickly shut his eyes.

“And why did you feel the need to barge into my room to tell me that?” she asked from somewhere to his northwest.

“I’m sorry, milady, but you didn’t answer when I knocked, so I thought–”

“Are you saying I’m required to answer when you come knocking?”

“N-No, milady…!”

The young mistress hummed, sounding closer than before. He was certain she could hear his heartbeat now.

“Well I would give you some acknowledgement for actually doing the bare minimum, considering how inept you naturally are,” she said, voice and footsteps approaching still closer. “Except… what kind of guard does his duty with his eyes closed?”

Something touched his face. Two fingers, brushing over his eyelids. He reeled back with a gasp before he could stop himself.

“…Well?” the young mistress demanded.

The lilt of pleasure within her impatient demand was familiar. Not for the first time, he wondered why she seemed to gain such enjoyment from tormenting him. He was hardly the only staff member close to the same age as her, and there were plenty of other staff members with much more timid personalities. Not like he would ever wish this treatment on anyone else…

It was the first time, however, he subsequently wished she were tormenting him in any other way. He would gladly consume a thousand peppers, take all manner of beverages poured over his head, if the alternative was being in his current position.

“I– I can’t… Your modesty, milady, your honour, I musn’t– A-And your father, your mother, they would–”

“Likely have you hanged, whipped, quartered, kicked out, and blacklisted from every potential employer known to man, yes,” the young mistress said briskly.

She was standing right there, right in front of him. The water droplets that had been left by her touch finally fell from his eyelashes and ran down his cheeks like tears.

“Did you catch a glimpse?” Her whispered words came out cruel and mischievous.

He stepped back again, shaking his head frantically. “No! No, milady, of course not, I swear…!”

And he really hadn’t. All he had seen was her head, leaning peacefully against the edge of the tub, the most relaxed and unmarred expression he had ever seen settled on her face. He knew that face was just the same as ever right now, smirking with a tilt of the head as she drank in his discomfort.

“I wish you were better at lying,” she sighed.

Some small modicum of relief fluttered beneath his torment. That meant she believed him.

“Not like that would matter to the rest of the staff, or especially my parents.”

The relief was crushed. “Oh, miss,” he gasped. “Please don’t–”

A hand closed over his forearm, dreadful and foreboding as a manacle. Water soaked through the sleeve of his shirt, his heart just about popped, and he stepped back one more time. He felt his legs hit something, then two hands planted themselves firmly against his chest in a solid push. His eyes opened in alarm, and he caught sight of the young mistress’s predatory grin before he was suddenly engulfed in water.

The young mistress was laughing. Her giggles and shrieks echoed slightly about the room as he flailed and splashed, hands frantically searching for the edges of the bath. He nearly opened his eyes again, but the young mistress’s laughter reminded him why that would be a terrible idea. Finally, his fingers caught around the edge of the tub, only for a hand to grasp his chin and force his head up.

“God, you’re a terrible guard,” the young mistress exclaimed. “You’re better at keeping your eyes closed than that fat, lazy cook.”

He just lay there, in the water, clutching the tub’s edge as though it were some lifeline, huffing as he struggled to get his breathing back under control.

“Oh, but I saw your eyes open for a second.”

“No…!” He tried to shake his head, but her hand prevented it. “No, no, I swear I still didn’t–!”

“God, I do wonder how mother will react…”

Her hand left his face, and he once again found himself flailing as he desperately attempted to leave the tub without the use of his eyes.

“Wait, milady–!”

Something pushed his head back irreverently. He fell back into the water and came back up moments later, spitting and coughing.

“Don’t beg, you’re already pathetic enough right now,” the young mistress said dismissively. The rustle of cloth indicated she had finally put on her bathrobe. “Besides, do you honestly think I would let you go like that?”

Fingers finally grasping onto the edges of the tub again, he quickly and frantically pushed himself up out of the water and tumbled over the edge of the tub and onto the unforgiving marble floor. As he lay there for a moment, gasping, and heard the young mistress approach.

“You’re probably the most entertaining embodiment of uselessness under our employ at the moment.” Her hand met his wet face with a few less than gentle pats. “Probably my favourite.”

The air shifted and her bare feet slapped deliberately against the floor as she walked away. “You are dismissed for now, though I can’t see you getting easily to the door with your eyes closed. So I guess you’ll just have to stay there looking like a wet dog until I take my leave. Tell one of the maids to clean up the mess you made, or better yet, clean it up yourself.”

He very much wanted to just leave. His clothes were heavy with water, and he was starting to feel a chill as the room began to cool. But then, what he wanted was not really ever a factor in this house…

The young mistress could be heard readying herself in the other room. He slowly pushed himself upright and leant his back against the tub. Eyes still shut tight, arms clasped around himself, and knees drawn up, he settled down to wait.

[whumpmasinjuly]

Now introducing the prompt list for Whumpmas in July 2024! 

Thank you for patiently waiting! As a reminder, we will not be reblogging any creations on this blog and will instead keep this blog as a space to only post the prompts, tags, and relevant information. We will post the tag for each day, and we ask that you use two tags when filling prompts this year so that others may find your creations easily:  Tag 1 —> #wij24day__ (Fill in the blank with the appropriate day number for the prompt you are filling! For example, if you are doing the prompt for day 21, make sure to tag your post with #wij24day21.)

Tag 2 —> #whumpmasinjuly2024 Be sure to also tag @whumpmasinjuly-archive if you would like your posts reblogged to our new official archive account! Of course, feel free to use any other relevant tags too! You can also find a banner that you can use in your posts (if you want, not required) under the #wijbanner tag.

The prompts are divided into three categories: community (red boxes), question (green boxes), and creation (white boxes). Everyone is free to participate as much or as little as they want–there’s no completionist requirement! This list provides a preview of the prompts, but on each day a more detailed post will be released with more context and additional suggestions for each day’s task. Similar to previous years, all prompts and other important information will be found under the #infowhumpmasinjuly tag and #infowij24 for ease of access. This blog will also use the tags #wijquestion , #wijcommunity , and #wijprompt respectively for each post so that you can filter and find the type of prompts you’d like to do. 

Below the cut is a text list of this year’s prompts:

1. (Re)Introduce yourself 2. What are your top three favorite whump tropes? 3. "______ deserved it" 4. Post a whump prompt for someone else to fill on Day 28 5. Share a TV show, movie, or any media that gives you the whumperflies! 6. Left Behind 7. Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time! 8. Describe your favorite type of whumper 9. Mind Games 10. Check out a new whump blog and drop them an ask 11. What songs/playlists are perfect for whumpy daydreaming? 12. Caught 13. Share some of your favorite niche whump tags! 14. Describe the ideal fic you've always wanted to read, but have yet to find/haven't written yet. 15. A Soft Reprieve 16. Create a whump meme! 17. What has been your most recent whump obsession? 18. "Or else" 19. Create a list of some of your favorite whump blogs to share! 20. What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media? 21. Abandoned 22. Find a story/author you've never engaged with before, and leave some nice comments! 23. What is your favorite type of whump setting? 24. Denial 25. Share a sneak peek of something you're working on 26. Describe your favorite type of whumpee 27. Delirium 28. Fill someone's whump prompt from Day 4 29. When did you get your first whumperflies? 30. "I'm here" 31. Who is someone in the whump-creating world that you admire and why?

[teine-mallaichte]

Day 14: Describe the ideal fic you've always wanted to read, but have yet to find/haven't written yet.

Living Weapon Whumpee Post-Escape:

The whumpee was once a weapon, but they have been rescued or escapsed and are now several years into their attempt to live a normal life.

To the outside world, it seems the whumpee has successfully reintegrated into society and appears to be functioning normally. They have crafted a façade of normalcy, appearing to be somewhat stable and well-adjusted.

Despite this outward appearance, the whumpee is plagued by deep-seated doubts and anxieties. There are fleeting moments when they genuinely feel safe and valued by their friends and allies, but a lot of their existence is still filed with uncertainty, doubt, and fear.

A significant event occurs—perhaps a disaster, an attack, or an urgent situation that forces the team to leave their established safety and go on the run. This new and threatening environment triggers the whumpee’s ingrained protective instincts and training.

As the whumpee’s old conditioning flares, they rationalise their heightened vigilance and actions are a conscious choice and necessity to safeguard their friends and allies. They are more than their training, more than their programming, they cannot accept that perhaps those old ingrained traits are still there.

As the whumpee becomes consumed by their need to protect, they begin to neglect their own well-being. They sleep little, eat less, and push themselves to the limits, driven by a compulsive need to safeguard those around them.

The rest of the team is preoccupied with the crisis and their own anxieties. The whumpee’s deteriorating state goes unnoticed at first, as their behavior might seem like a normal reaction to stress or heightened alertness. They are all on edge afterall.

Eventually someone in the team notices. But by this point, the whumpee is deeply entrenched in their protective instincts and is resistant to help. Their anxiety may have turned into paranoia, and their past experiences of punishment for showing weakness or vulnerability making them wary of accepting assistance. They may struggle with their own perception of needing help, seeing it as a sign of failure or weakness.

The caretaker continues to try and mitigate the issue, gently encouraging the whumpee to eat and rest. Despite their best efforts, the whumpee remains resistant and defiant, struggling to reconcile their need for help with their ingrained survival instincts.

Eventually, the whumpee’s body can no longer sustain their extreme efforts and neglect. They reach a breaking point where their physical and emotional exhaustion forces them to collapse, making it impossible for them to continue resisting help.

I may have made less of a list/description and more of a plot outline here... If this sparks anything in anyone feel free to run with it (Just let me know if you do because I want to read it)

All WIJ24 posts

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[whump-me]

Whumpmas in July Day 18: "Or else"

The man chained to the basement wall looked like a living corpse. His ribs were visible through his tightly stretched skin. His eyes were wide and hollow as he stared through the newcomer.

The basement smelled like urine and rotting wounds. The newcomer gagged.

The chained man parted ulcerated lips to let out an inhuman moan. It might have been a plea—Kill me.

The captor tugged at the rough rope binding the newcomer’s hands. “That’s what happens to the ones who don’t cooperate,” he murmured in the newcomer’s ear. “Now, does playing nice with me still sound so bad?”

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[whumpinthepot]

@whumpmasinjuly-archive 2024, Day 28. Fill a whump prompt

I chose this one: Self imposed sleep deprivation by @teine-mallaichte and for some reason decided to ANIMATE A WHOLE GIF 😭😭😭😭 My animation skill is rusty at best and im not used to procreate but here we are lol

Clarence is too scared to sleep at the facility, their handlers are going to have to give them sleep medication soon if they keep this up.

[wollemi-whump]

WIJ Day 16 - Create a Whump Meme

I made three! :)

~

~

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 20: character you wish was whumped

oh man, this is a relatable one!!! how often have we seen a character we wish was hurt more and never got the goods in canon? 😩😩😩 (oh well, that's what fanfiction is for, hehe).

gonna specifically drag my nostalgia out of the closet here for the question "is there a dead whump fandom you hope to be revived" and remind y'all of the national treasure series (aka my entire childhood). do you all remember this guy?

riley poole, my beloved 😍💖😍💖😍💖

obsessed doesn't begin to cover how i felt about this little freak. god, i loved imagining him in Situations, reading about him in Situations, put 👏 that 👏 nerd 👏 in 👏 Situations!!! 👏

emotional whump cause he's routinely accidentally under appreciated? yes. physical whump cause he's small and ancillary and can be tormented for information? yes. threatened because the protagonists love him? yes. fellas, i was writing fanfiction about him before i owned an electronic device. he just compelled me so!! 💖😍

due to the adventure-comedy bent of the series, we never really got to see any blood but god, i wish our fanfiction could get more gritty with it, ya know? revive the national treasure fandom so I can put this guy in more situations with more people, is what i'm saying.

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[painonthebrain]

❄️ • Whumpmas in July Day 4 - Post a whump prompt • ❄️

Transformation has been on my brain recently so here, have some whumpy prompts involving it!

Whumpee gets into some kind of magical accident and winds up changed. Into what, how and why are up to you — but whatever they are, they’re now being hunted down for their elusive features.

Inhuman whumper being transformed into a normal human

Whumpee slowly turning into a monster, trying to hold on to their humanity

Whumpee undergoing a transformation in order to become stronger/acquire powers/etc. and help the people they care about, but it’s incredibly painful

Wings, horns, extra limbs/eyes/etc. bursting out from underneath the skin

Gory transformation

Caretaker desperately trying to change a transformed whumpee back to normal

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[fadingdreamscape]

@whumpmasinjuly-archive day 27 - delirious

CW - non-con drugging

Character - whumper and whumpee

Whumper stood in the shadows, watching with a sinister satisfaction as Whumpee's head lolled forward, then snapped back up in a desperate bid for consciousness. "You're still fighting," Whumper's voice was a low, mocking drawl that cut through the fog in Whumpee's brain like a serrated knife.

"I... I can see them," Whumpee murmured, eyes wide and glassy.

Whumper stepped closer, the dim light casting a menacing glow on their face. "See what?" they asked, feigning curiosity. "What do you see, Whumpee?"

Whumpee's breath hitched, their vision blurring with spectral shapes that twisted and writhed in the corners of their eyes. "Shapes... shadows... they're everywhere."

Whumper's smile widened, a cruel glint in their eyes. "Hallucinations. How delightful." They reached out, gripping Whumpee's chin and forcing their gaze upward, staring intently into their unfocused eyes.

Whumpee shuddered as Whumper's cold fingers traced their jawline, a shiver running down their spine. "Please... make it stop," they whispered.

Whumper's grip tightened, their nails digging into Whumpee's flesh. "Oh, but we're just getting started," they crooned, leaning in close, "now, time to take your medication," they purred as they pulled a small vial it of their pocket and forced whumpees mouth open.

Whumpee tried to resist, but their limbs felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive. The bitter liquid from the vial burned as it slid down their throat, and they coughed, spluttering as they struggled to breathe.

Whumper's laughter echoed through the dimly lit room, a sound devoid of warmth or humanity. "There, there," they cooed mockingly, patting Whumpee's cheek with false gentleness. "You’ll feel better soon enough. Or perhaps worse... Depends if you're ready to embrace it yet."

Whumpee's vision swam, the room around them warping and twisting.

"You see them, don't you?" Whumper whispered, leaning down, their mouth next to Whumpees ear.

The shapes in Whumpee's vision shifted, the very air seemed to shimmer and dance.

"That's right," Whumper said, their voice now a soothing purr. "You're almost there."

The room twisted and pulsed in whumpees vision, their body slowly began to feel warm and weightless.

"You look so lost," Whumper mused, circling around Whumpee like a predator. "Does it feel good?"

Whumpee's breathing became ragged, their heart pounding erratically in their chest. "I don't... I can't..." They stammered, struggling to form coherent thoughts as the world around them dissolved into a kaleidoscope of course and shapes.

Whumper chuckled, a sound that dripped with malice. "Oh, but you can. You're just resisting. Let go, Whumpee. Let the delirium take you."

Whumper released their grip, shifting to run their fingers gently through whumpees hair, "You're so close now," they said, their tone a sick parody of encouragement.

The room seemed to spin gently, the walls melted as whumpees thoughts seemed to disintegrate. Trying to think felt like grasping smoke.

"Look at you," Whumper murmured, almost to themselves, "teetering on the edge. Isn't it beautiful?" They continued to gently stroke whumpees hair, encouraging them to no longer fight.

Whumpee's lips parted, but no sound emerged. The spectral shapes in their vision danced with a macabre elegance, and somewhere in the distance, a voice—a memory perhaps—whispered words they couldn't quite understand.

Whumpee's head lolled to the side, their eyes losing focus, the figures in their vision danced and twisted, pulling them deeper into the abyss.

Whumper's hand continued its slow, rhythmic motion through Whumpee's hair, a grotesque parody of comfort. "That's it," they crooned. "Just let go."

Whumpee's lips moved soundlessly, their mind fracturing under the relentless assault. The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of disjointed voices that spoke in a language they couldn't comprehend, but which filled them with a deep, primal dread.

Whumper leaned closer, their breath hot against Whumpee's ear. "You see, this is freedom," they murmured. "No more pain, no more fear. Just... surrender." Their fingers traced lazy patterns across Whumpee's scalp, "You're almost there," they whispered.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered, half-lidded and unseeing. The world around them had become an undulating sea of colors and shadows, the once familiar shapes now alien and terrifying. Each breath felt like a struggle against the current, pulling them deeper into the chaotic abyss.

Whumpee's head lolled back, their eyes flickering with fleeting lucidity. They tried to grasp onto a memory, a sliver of who they were, they grasped onto Whumpers words, onto the sensation of their hand in their hair, unsure whatelse was real.

Whumpee's head lolled forward, their eyes glazing over as they teetered on the edge of consciousness.

Whumper smiled, pulling whumpee forwards into an embrace, letting their head rest on their shoulder, "well done Whumpee," they murmured.

Whumpee's body went limp in Whumper's arms, the fight draining out of them entirely. They hung there, suspended between wakefulness and oblivion, the phantom shapes in their vision dancing a sinister ballet.

Whumper's fingers continued to stroke Whumpee's hair, their touch deceptively gentle. "That's it," they whispered, their voice a silken thread weaving through Whumpee's fractured thoughts. "No more resistance. Just let go."

[viva-la-whump]

Whumpmas in July - Day 16

Day 16 - Create a whump meme

We've all been there...

[whumpninja]

Whumpmas in July 1: (Re) Introduce Yourself!

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

Hey hi, whump community! I’m Jack! I’m the weird little ninja creature that runs around the place shrieking about violence and beating up OCs.

My pronouns are what/ever. I don’t sleep at all; instead I go into a dissociative state and think about committing atrocities for about six hours a night. My dream job is court jester. I love whump because it’s in my head all the time and I gotta have a word for all these bloody daydreams of mine.

As for my favorite types of whump, I love historical anything (but especially pirates!), I adore vampires if you make them weird, and anything with a living weapon whumpee or a whumpee forced to fight will set me vibrating through the nearest window.

I’ve got two running series- W.M.D. and The Angel of Death, and I often do little one-shots, two-shots, red-shots, blue-shots. I’m also hopefully starting an interactive whump series in a few days!

This community is awesome and I’m so happy I finally joined! See you around! *this post ninja rolls away*

[whumpmasinjuly]

Now introducing the prompt list for Whumpmas in July 2023! 

Thank you for patiently waiting! We will be implementing a couple of new changes! We will not be reblogging any creations this year and will instead keep this blog as a space to only post the prompts, tags, and relevant information. We will post the tag for each day, and we ask that you use two tags when filling prompts this year so that others may find your creations easily:  Tag 1 ---> #wij23day__ (Fill in the blank with the appropriate day number for the prompt you are filling! For example, if you are doing the prompt for day 21, make sure to tag your post with #wij23day21. Of course, feel free to use any other relevant tags too!)

Tag 2 ---> #whumpmasinjuly2023  Be sure to also tag @whumpmasinjuly-archive if you would like your posts reblogged to our new official archive account!  You can also find a banner that you can use in your posts (if you want) under the #wijbanner tag.

The prompts are divided into three categories: questions, prompts, and community activities. Everyone is free to participate as much or as little as they want–there’s no completionist requirement! This list provides a preview of the prompts, but on each day a more detailed post will be released with more context and additional suggestions for each day’s task. Similar to previous years, all prompts and other important information will be found under the #infowhumpmasinjuly tag and #infowij23 for ease of access. This blog will also use the tags #wijquestion , #wijcommunity , and #wijprompt respectively for each post so that you can filter and find the type of prompts you’d like to do. 

Below the cut is a text list of this year’s prompts:

1. (Re)Introduce yourself. 2. What ten words give you the whumperflies/make you think of whump? 3. Stitches/Bandages 4. Share a TV show, movie, or any media that gives you the whumperflies! (Feel free to go off about your favorite episodes/moments!) 5. What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media? 6. Deprived 7. Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time (or reblog it and/or make a list of them!) 8. Describe your favorite type of whumper! 9. “Stay with me” 10. Check out a new whump blog and drop them an ask! 11. What whump media type do you prefer and why? 12. Search & Rescue 13. Share some of your favorite niche whump tags! 14. Describe the ideal fic you’ve always wanted to read but have yet to find / haven’t written yet. 15. Buried 16. Create a whump meme! 17. What inspires you most to create whump content? (Images? Fics? Shows?) 18. Ache 19. Create a list of some of your favorite whump blogs to share! 20. Describe your favorite type of whumpee!  21. “Please.” 22. Find a story/author you’ve never read before, read it and leave some nice comments (people can reblog the post to plug their series/masterlists/etc as well) 23. What is your favorite type of whump setting? 24. Earth (Environmental whump) 25. Share a sneak peek of something you’re working on! 26. What is your favorite place to find whump media, roleplayers/writers, or fan-created content? (Link us to it!) 27. Unstable (Mentally? Physically? Both!?) 28. Send people asks about their OCs or favorite fandoms! 29. Do you identify with any particular roles or situations in whump? 30. Antidote 31. Who is someone in the whump-creating world that you admire and why?

[justplainwhump]

Left Behind

This is written for today's wij-prompt "Left Behind", @whumpmasinjuly-archive. Thanks to the wonderful @wildfae-afterdark for the inspiration, and as always to @angst-after-dark for their characters Thane and Dami.

[Angel Masterpost]

Angel is left behind. Again.

Content / warnings: BBU, conditioned whumpee, BBU Romantic, intimate whumper, a bit of revenge, and some semi explicit dubcon touching.

"You be a good girl and wait for me," Sir says softly, his hand on her cheek. Angel would love to close her eyes, melt into his touch, to imagine she's used to this tenderness. To imagine she's loved.

She does not close her eyes, though. Doesn't give in to the comfort of the daydream. Sir wants her to look at him, whenever he addresses her. And so she does. Looks into his face directly, eyes wide open, hides nothing.

Sir demands to see "all of her". Because he owns all of her. And all of her, he says, includes every dumb little thought in her dumb little head, every spark of every emotion, every reaction of her body.

And her body does react. To his touch, to his voice, to his sight. She's shivering, despite the temperature in the house, her knees shake, warmth pools between her legs. She wants him. She needs him. So desperately.

He sees it.

He smiles.

"Please," she whispers, knowing it's futile. "Please, take me with you. Please, don't leave me."

Sir pets her cheek. "There's no need for a desperate, clingy pet whore by my side, when I meet my European producers, Angel." His voice still vibrates with the same, soft nuance, that seems to make her mind dissolve into a puddle of need. His thumb runs over her lip. "Gosh. What a pathetic, idiotic slut you are, even thinking that."

"Please," she whispers. "Please. I'm nothing without you."

"Mh," he hums. "That's true, isn't it? But you know what? I want you to be nothing. I ordered you like that. I want you to need me, and I want you to not get me, and I want you to know that is exactly what you're made for."

She swallows. "I... I'm made for -"

"Shhh," he mumbles, slips his free hand between her legs, runs a finger through the wetness beween her folds. She doesn't deny the moan falling from her lips. He hums. "Now, Angel, this is important. Every Romantic is made for getting fucked. And I guess you're decent enough at that. But what you're truly made for is this." He shoves her back into the couch, and she yelps as her shaky legs give in and she falls over the armrest. "You're made to be left back. You're made to long for me, every second of your entire pathetic existence, and you're meant to be denied. You'll never say no, Angel, but you're meant to suffer hearing mine, and here it is. No, sweetheart. You're not coming. You're not getting fucked. You're not getting whole."

Tears well up in Angel's eyes, but she doesn't dare look away. She's good. She's so good. He loves her tears. Maybe this will -

He wipes his fingers off on his pants. "You'll be a good girl and wait for me," he repeats. "You'll be a good girl and miss your owner dearly. I'll be watching from afar." He points at the camera in the corner. "Maybe I call you. Maybe I won't. And you'll stay needy and horny and desperate for me, and not touch yourself. And-"

"Sir," Dami says from the door, their voice hoarse. "The car."

Sir's face changes, as he looks over to them. It gets softer. Satisfied. Angel's heart shatters.

"Coming, Dami. I hope you're looking forward to see Paris again."

"Sir," Angel reaches out.

He's already half way to the door, but stops once more, looks over her. I want to see all of you.

His gaze takes in her naked body, the smeared film of wetness on her thighs, her heaving chest, the tears in her eyes.

"Please," she whispers.

"You're perfect," he says. His smile is beautiful, wide, and he lets her have it, for long seconds, before he adds a single word, clear, even, cruel.

"No."

The door falls shut.

Angel stays behind.

---

-

Angel tag list (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @whumplr-reader @there-will-always-be-blood

[whump-me]

Whumpmas in July Day 15: A Soft Reprieve

The man gasped out a name. “He’s my contact. Please… please don’t…”

With a sob, he slumped back in his chair. He stared at his own blood splattered across the table.

“Good,” said the interrogator gently, running a hand down the man’s sweat-drenched hair. “Very good. Do you want a drink of water?”

The trembling man took a sip from the glass held to his lips. It tasted like the shame of his betrayal.

“To thank you for your cooperation,” said the interrogator, “you can have an hour to rest. But after that, I’ll want the rest of those names.”

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[whumpinthepot]

@whumpmasinjuly-archive 2024, day 12. Caught

Oc Saunix, He/They