thewhumpiestcolourisred

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

Masterlist

An arrogant Pirate Captain with the world at his feet wishes for something different to happen in his life. Hoping for a challenge to arise to entertain him. He ends up crossing paths with a Siren Prince. At first it’s all fun and games being able to manhandle and torment such a rare creature, but things take a turn. Having to learn the hard way that he’s not invincible, and can very much bleed.

Contents: Whumper turned Whumpee, Revenge, Sadistic/ Creepy Whumper, Defiant Whumpee, Pet Whumpee if You Squint.

⛔️TW: Torture, Violence, Captivity, Degredation, Restrained/Gagged, Fear, Suggestive Non-Con, Venom/ Poison, Threats⛔️

+——————————————————————————+

Caspian's Suffering Arc

#1: What The Tide Brought In 🌊

#2: Two Sides of The Same Coin 🪙

#3: (TBA)

Malik’s Suffering Arc

#1: Twin Terrors

AU’s

N/A

Story Time (stories in between)

N/A

Art & About

Malik De Lir

Jovey Ellis

Caspian Glaucus

Nerissa Glaucus

We’re going to ATTEMPT to post once a week. Go easy on me. At least after exams are over.

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

“This can’t be it”

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Masterlist •

Day 3: Betrayal | Left to die | Running away

Warnings: Blood, gun.

"Leader and I will cover the left, rest go around and catch Whumper off guard."

Leader stayed silent as Right Hand changed their yet another order. The team eyed them cautiously, so they nodded and fled to the opposite side.

"Ready?"

Leader loaded their gun as a response. They were feeling sour over the mission. It was so redundant to dispatch a special unit for a barely guarded base. It was even more absurd to think Whumper was there. Leader had spent years hunting them down. They didn't believe a word of the intel.

At least every part of the plan was safe to ditch or retreat, even if it cost the night's sleep.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Just the mission," they breathed out at once. They often kept themselves from vocalising their worries, as if saying it loud would make it real. Right Hand's decisions weren't clashing with Leader's plans, but they didn't like this daring attitude.

"Relax, we will be fine. We are overqualified for this."

"Not until we go home." They darted forward, Right Hand after them. Soon, they were standing alone in the pool of enemy blood, dead bodies around. Leader was out of breath from covering Right Hand's back. They couldn't find any reason for this unusual behaviour.

"You'll get one of us killed!" They finally snapped as they pulled Right Hand back from the camera view. Tech was yet to disable those.

Right Hand smiled, and it was one of the scariest things Leader has ever seen.

Right Hand pulled their gun, and Leader started to run without a second thought, a bullet grazing their ear. They stumbled, and one more shot missed them, the turn in the corridor providing a cover.

"When the agency told us to get rid of you, I was afraid pulling the trigger would be hard."

Leader closed their eyes, their heart rushing as they listened to the footsteps getting closer. They had to keep calm and figure out what was happening later. Leader was better than Right Hand in the close combat.

They ignored their heart breaking to million pieces. They thought they were friends. Or a family of sorts. They always thought their team would be with them no matter what. They ignored the feelings creeping up. They were good at it, too, but they knew it was going to crush them down sooner or later.

"Please don't take this personally. This is just what it takes to end this pointless conflict. We will bury you and Whumper here and finally stop dying while hunting each other."

As if Leader was the reason for this ridiculousness. With a deep breath, they felt anger run through their veins and lunged to Rught Hand.

They fell to the floor with the impact, the gun flying to the opposite side of the hall. Leader pinned Right Hand to ground, their one knee pressing to the unguarded chest.

A hit from the back of their head sent them to the floor. The next thing they knew was pain, accompanied by a loud bang. Leader cried, hands reaching to the source, their fingers meeting with a warm, sticky fluid. They didn't look down, pressing their stomach as they gasped for air.

"Job is done. We don't have to torture ourselves with waiting for them to die."

Teammate, Leader wanted to call, but they could only cough as Teammate helped Right Hand back on their feet, leaving Leader's blurred sight without a word.

Leader didn't know how long they laid and waited for death to claim them, but some time later, a shadowy figure stumbled towards them, dropping to their knees.

"This can't be it. I refuse to die like this. And I won't let you die by someone else's hand."

Leader could barely recognise Whumper from the blood covering the enemy's face. Without a warning, Whumper pulled them up, leaning them against the wall. Leader grunted, pain too much for them to breathe properly, let alone think of a sarcastic comment like usual.

"We're getting out of here, and you're welcome."

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

More chains! Cause chains are good!

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

The First Encounter

Start reading the full story here:

MASTERPOST here.

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

Whump community Reblog if you hate AI

it ruins the whole point of art

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

Forget about torturing your blorbos, putting them through the ringer. I'm putting my blorbo in perfectly ordinary, pleasant situations. Their tortured personality will cause them anguish anyway, making an absolutely mundane scene into the most dramatic, agony filled affair as though the world is ending and it's all their fault

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

so sick of people being brought back to life and somehow sustaining ZERO brain damage from the lack of oxygen to the brain for a prolonged period of time??? no amnesia?? no stroke-like symptoms?? no loss of motor function??

give us REHAB and AFTER CARE and THERAPY post-resurrection!! like cmon. It’s not even about being realistic, it’s about giving the character a recovery arc which i know for a FACT 100% of the media consuming population on earth wants. come now

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

Merry Whumpmas!!!!!

YIPPPEEEEEE ITS HERE!!! :D BEAUTIFUL

Glad to see whiskey still going through the horrors teehee

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

I like my men like I like my steak. Bloody, tender, and with a very sharp knife on the side.

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

Reblog for a whump-themed Christmas Card in your inbox

Hello friends!

It's that time of the year again! I have once again made a whumpy christmas card for my friends and am extending the offer here too <3

On the 25th everyone who reblogs will receive a whumpmas card in their inbox (please have askbox open and allow asks/submissions with media!!!).

Happy holidays everyone!!!

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

You Can’t do This

Cw: kidnapping, restraints, torture, mentioned mouth/eye whump (doesn’t actually happen), non-con touching, knives, threat of asphyxiation/choking

“Wait- wait,” Villain sputtered, the words tripping over their tongue, snagging in the back of their throat. “You can’t- Hero, this is illegal- you can’t do this!”

They twisted their wrists against the restraints that bound them to the chair, flexing their fingers to try to relieve a fraction of the pressure. The movement only pushed the cables deeper into their skin, dragging a hiss from their clenched teeth.

A warm hand wrapped around their neck from behind, turning their exhale into a wheeze as their head was shoved against the back of the chair.

“Since when have you cared much about what’s legal?” Hero responded, amusement adding a drawl to their words. They circled the chair, grip on Villain’s neck adjusting so their palm lay against the villain’s wind pipe, fingers digging into the sensitive skin on the side of their neck. Just enough pressure to fear, for Villain to feel the threat of their airway being crushed, but not enough to cut off their breathing. Not yet.

“He-Hero, this isn’t funny, stop.” Villain grit out, shrinking as far back as the chair would allow. Hero only pressed closer, moving in so their legs were on either side of Villain’s, their ankles bound to the chair legs.

“Was it funny when the roles were reversed? All those nights I spent tied up in your basement, bleeding and cold? Was it funny then?” Hero hissed, their other hand raising to Villain’s face with the speed of a strike. Barely in time, Villain braced themself, only for a warm hand to press against their jaw, fingers brushing over the curve of their cheekbone. The touch was stark against the chill in the air, a misplaced comfort—artificial. Hero’s stroked their thumb below Villain’s eye gently, before coming to a pause with both hands cradling either side of Villain’s face. “Was it?”

“No, no Hero, it wasn’t,” Villain’s voice wavered now, threatening to crack. “You can’t do this, you’re s’posed to be the good guy-”

Hero stepped back suddenly, tearing their hands away from Villain’s face like their skin had turned toxic. Villain tried to ignore the ache that swelled in their chest as the cold air drowned any remnants of the warm touch in moments.

“I guess I am, aren’t I? The ‘good guy’?” Hero repeated, turning their back to Villain. They stepped to the side of the poorly lit room, to something that resembled an old workbench, their body blocking Villain from seeing what they were doing. “I wonder what the press will say about your sudden absence. They’ll publish anything I tell them to, you know? I could feed them some story about you fleeing the city, the country even, and your name would be forgotten in a week.”

Hero turned around, bracing their palms against the workbench and leaning back.

“Everyone always believes the good guy, don’t they?” Hero shook their head. “No one cares about another pesky street criminal, do they? All they care about is Supervillain, the papers would move on from you the next day and you’d be forgotten. You wouldn’t even get one of those ten year follow-ups.”

“Hero, let me go. You can’t do this. You can’t,” Villain twisted their arms against their restraints in one last pitiful attempt to free themself, accomplishing nothing but to make Hero chuckle.

Hero pushed themself forwards, striding closer. It was only then Villain noticed something in their hand, slender and orange—a box cutter, they realized quickly, as the hero closed the distance between them in three steps.

“Tell me exactly what I can and can’t do, Villain? What can’t I do to you?” Their hand twisted in Villain’s hair, shoving their head back against the chair while the other flipped out the blade on the box cutter.

The words died in Villain’s throat. Their lips parted, eyes tracking the blade as Hero lifted it up to their face.

“I can do anything I want to you.” Hero’s eyes stared directly into Villain’s as they placed the blade against their skin, just below their eye. “You should be glad, your eyes look so pretty when you’re scared. Otherwise I would’ve plucked them out by now,” Hero began to move the blade to the side, putting just enough pressure to split a thin line of red below Villain’s eye.

Villain didn’t dare breathe as Hero paused, gritting their teeth against the sting as they felt the blade puncture a bit deeper. A drop of blood rolled down their cheek like a tear.

“I thought about this moment every night in your basement,” Hero muttered, pushing the edge harder into Villain’s flesh as they followed the track of the blood, drawing a half suppressed yelp from Villain as the pain suddenly intensified. “Planning out exactly what I would do to you, how I’d pay you back for everything you’ve done to me.”

Hero accented the last word with a sudden sharp twist, finishing the line to Villain’s jaw before pulling their hand back. Tears burning in the corners of Villain’s eyes, welling faster than Villain could suppress them.

“Ple- please, Hero, you can’t,” Villain’s voice trembled, any thoughts of maintaining their dignity gone with their fear.

Hero’s palm cracked against their bleeding cheek, catching them off guard. Pain like fire burned from the cut, their head snapping to the side with the force of the blow.

“This will be your only warning,” Hero began, their empty hand grabbing Villain by the chin and tugging them back to look at them. “I do not have the same reservations about your voice as I do your eyes. Another word from you, I’ll cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat and it’ll be the only food you get for a month, got it?”

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

It’s common to see whumpers that enjoy making their whumpee sad/angry/afraid. That’s pretty natural for whumpers.

But what about a whumper that (also) enjoys making their whumpee happy?

Whumper loves how Whumpee’s eyes light up when they’re given a plate of their favorite food (after being starved for days)

Whumper loves watching Whumpee sing along to their favorite songs playing from the radio Whumper bought them (to help them cope with long periods of isolation)

Whumper loves the peaceful look on Whumpee’s face as they enjoy a good book Whumper gave them (and could take away at any time)

Whumper loves how soft Whumpee’s hair and skin look after a warm shower (the first in weeks)

Whumper loves how Whumpee slowly dances around their cell to the tune of a music box (it was a gift for not struggling despite the pain)

Whumper loves the sigh of relief from Whumpee as Whumper applies the burn cream (to the wounds Whumper made with a red hot poker)

Whumper loves pulling Whumpee close to them, curled up on the couch as they watch Whumpee’s favorite film (they notice Whumpee shivering slightly in their hold)

Whumper loves making Whumpee happy (as long as they know Whumper could take it back whenever they want)

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

lot of love in my heart for whumpees who would do the EXACT same thing to whumper if their roles were reversed. i think there's something really fascinating about whumpees who are just as brutal and cold as their whumper - but whumper is in power and they are not.

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

Bruh did I just get clocked wtf

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

plenty of people within the community have talked about their whump awakening, but I wanna hear about your most bizarre early whump fixations. I'll go first:

5-year-old me really liked when the bill from Schoolhouse Rock pretended to die

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

First base is violence second base is convoluted codependence third base is applying pressure to the vulnerable parts of their body to keep their entrails from spilling out

[thewhumpiestcolourisred]

whumptober day 20

Prompt: emotional angst

"Why!? Why are you doing this to me..??"

Whumpee screams hoarsely as a whip cuts deep into their back. "Why? Why!?" Whumper stops, looking down at Whumpee. "Because nobody, nobody else cares!"

Whumpee is taken aback and looks up at Whumper. They see a chance. "I.. I underst-" Before they finish they receive a quick punch straight to the teeth, sending them reeling.

"You don't understand shit!"