Your-local-vamp - Too Obsessed With Vampires! - Tumblr Blog

Vibe: &

That's legit my vibe rn tbh..

4/17 whump prompts *5 sentences* “Now, now pet, behave,” Oliver said, his fingers dug into the vampire’s back as his cohorts milked the vampire of his venom.

CW: Mouth whump, restrained, captivity, pet whump, creepy whumper, intimate whumper

"Now, behave," Oliver said, his voice somewhere between a growl and a purr, his fingers digging like knives into the vampire's shoulders to hold him still.

The vampire boy whimpered, weakly, pink-tinged tears streaming from the corners of his eyes, staining the whites around his green irises, wide open with fear.

He couldn't stop himself from struggling against the cuffs that held his wrists behind his back, he had to do something, to move in some way. The metal ring forced between his teeth kept his mouth open so wide his jaw was nearly cracking, and if he'd had to breathe to live, it would have been difficult to do so comfortably.

Luckily, he was already dead.

Oliver's other hand found its way into his hair, petting gently, a jarring comparison to the violence of his grip.

The man in front of him leaned over, placing a small dish into his open mouth, angled so the lip of one side caught on his bottom teeth and held there. Then he took a small tool like a q-tip and tipped the vampire's chin up, getting a better look with a little flashlight.

"There we go. I see the glands. Hold him."

Oliver's fingers twisted into coppery hair and held fast.

The tool pressed into the venom gland just behind his fangs and the vampire's whimper turned to a whine and then to a high shriek of pain and discomfort, trying to whip his head from side to side, but he was held too tightly to do more than jerk a little, here and there.

The pain was blinding.

His vision went white, as if staring directly into a heatless sun, and he screamed. Pain sparked in the glands and went straight to his brain, down his spine, to the tips of his toes.

His back arched in a perfect bow. He couldn't feel the ache in his scalp from Sir's hands because the pain of everything else simply overwhelmed it.

Finally, the tool finished prodding first one gland and then the other, the little dish was full to brimming of venom, and the man pulled back and away. He poured the venom into a container that he sealed carefully and labeled.

The vampire boy's sobs, muffled and distorted by his forced-open mouth, filled the room.

"There we go, darlin', all done..." Oliver murmured against his ear, his thumb rubbing at the back of the boy's shoulder as if in comfort. "That wasn't so bad, now was it, lovely?"

The vampire shuddered, and sobbed, and Oliver listened to him and gave a soft, affectionate little laugh.

Then he looked up. "Pull his fangs while we've got him open."

The vampire began to struggle again, desperate and mindless, and Oliver's laugh was louder than the sound of the vampire's fear.

I feel like gore fits under whump. Like whump is sometimes sickness or natural injury and more about the story and character reactions whereas gore/guro is more focused on the description and actual injury. But I think there's a lot of overlap.

Thank you for answering!

I’ve gotten a few mixed responses, but I find them all to be informative. The way I am now understanding it, I believe that it might break down like this:

Whump - A general term used in fandoms to describe tropes involving emotional, physical, and/or mental suffering between fictional characters.

Whump can involve anything from minor injuries to amputations and other extreme situations similar to topics explored in Gore/Guro fiction. However, today this is not the norm in whump and it can interfere with many people’s limits, referred to as a “squick.”

Whump fiction often has an emphasis on character dynamics and there are terms to refer to the person being injured (whumpee) and the person who injures them (whumper) or the person who takes care of them (caretaker).

For this reason, whump can also be an umbrella term for another trope found in fan fiction/creative fiction: h/c (hurt/comfort.)

Whump also seems to explore a lot hospital and medical topics.

Gore/Guro related works - Fictional artworks and writings involving mostly physical pain and injuries.

Like whump, there are many different sub categories for Gore/Guro. These range from depictions of characters covered in bruises, surface wounds, and bandages to the more extreme stuff involving, but not limited to, torture, vore, and death (and sometimes even after death.)

This kind of fiction can also dwell into the emotional and mental aspects, usually when depicted as a narrative piece of work such as a comic.

Gore/Guro fiction explores topics that are impossible and lethal solely for the purpose of extending the physical and emotional tolls of the characters.

Angst - Unlike Whump and Gore/Guro fiction, angst is a term specific for the emotional and mental turmoils a character may have to go through when facing challenging situations.

Angst can be found in topics explored in whump and Gore/Guro fiction, however.

Conclusions:

There is a lot of overlap between whump and gore/guro fiction. They also seem to overlap with another trope called angst because of the extreme situations characters have to go through.

Whump may be thought of as a huge umbrella term and guro/gore can possibly be a subcategory of whump fiction.

Introduction!

Now that I’ve settled into my new blog nicely I think it’d be nice to finally do a proper introduction as I’ve never actually made one

Fellow Whumpers! I’m S! She/her, 26, and located somewhere in Europe.

I specialize in making whump art and comics! I make both n$fw and $fw art. I do not have a very good writing skill but I occasionally dabble. I’ve been active in the whump community for about 3 months before moving to this primary blog.

My favorite tropes are:

Male only whump

Pet whump/captivity

N0n/dubc0n My Beloved

Drugging

Emotional manipulation/psychological @buse

Intimate/creepy whumpers

Conditioned and defiant whumpees both have my heart

See my art here!

Some of my favorite whump blogs: @undertheburrow​ @lonesome–hunter​ @deluxewhump​ @whatgoeswhumpinthenight​ @whumpwillow​ @kween-pinescales​ @whump-cravings​ @whump3000​ @awfulwhumpsideblog​ @crowned-avery​ @canniboylism​ @rat-father​ @danswhumpdump​ @whumpzone​ @galaxywhump​ @darklyria​ @whumpnoire​ @your-local-vamp​ @cupcakes-and-pain​

Could you another drabble with a masochistic whumpee?

(tw: restraints, masochism/sadism)

“You like this, don’t you? You revel in it.”

Whumpee shot Whumper a dangerous glare, sagging in the chains on the ceiling that held them up. Everything in their face told Whumper no, they don’t like this, they want it to stop.

But their body wanted more, needed more, it was an insatiable thing. Every punch to the gut lit a fire in them, every slap scratched an itch deep down they didn’t know they had. Even Whumper’s degrading words urged them to listen, to want to hear more.

“F…fuck you. Fuck you.” Whumpee wouldn’t give. They knew how obvious it was, how their pathetic body looked in that moment, but they still had their dignity. They wouldn’t let that monster strip that away too.

Whumper took a moment to admire what was in front of them. A doll at their disposal. A face with so much anger despite their body being like a magnetic force to everything Whumper had to give them. Such a beautiful contradiction.

“I know how much you want it,” Whumper drawled. The poor little growl that escaped Whumpee’s lips filled them with even more delight. They picked up the nearest item, they didn’t care to look. Anything would satisfy their needs at this point.

“So why don’t I give it to you?”

"You're bruised."

"You like when I'm bruised."

Whumper grabbed Whumpee by the throat, pinned them to the wall and sneered in their face.

"I like when I've bruised you." They pressed a thumb into the dark ring around Whumpee's neck, unable to even relish the flinch and gasp from pain that they didn't have a hand in causing.

"Now tell me who."

// w. @zoewhumps

sure the blood running through my veins is there to keep me alive but it’s main purpose is to feed the vampires

VINE INSPIRED OC ASK GAME

Send in a reference to a vine and I'll answer the question based on that!

ADAM! - Does your OC smoke? Vape?

You Are My Dad - What is/was your OC's relationship with their parents like?

Stop Calling Me Chicken Little - How brave is your OC?

Four Female Ghostbusters? - Is your OC involved with anyone?

What Up, I'm Jared - How booksmart is your OC?

Road Work Ahead - Can your OC drive?

Welcome to Bible Study - Is your OC religious?

So No Head? - What is your OC's temperament like?

Merry Chrysler - Does your OC celebrate any holidays?

Two Shots of Vodka - Does your OC drink?

Oh My God, They Were Roommates - Does your OC live with anyone?

Who! Want Lasagna- Is your OC good at cooking?

I Won't Hesitate, Bitch - Who are your OC's close friends?

Hi, My Name is Chelsea - What's your OC's favorite meal?

"A Child" "No" - Does your OC like kids? Do they want any?

Actually, Megan, I Can't Sit Anywhere - Does your OC have any medical conditions?

Two Bros - What's your OC's sexuality?

Zach, Stop - Does your OC get in trouble a lot?

Wrow - Is your OC good at flirting?

I Was in a Band - What's your OC's favorite kind of music?

Choking Whump

Hands around the neck or over the mouth and nose

Chokehold (who doesn’t love some manhandling)

Belt around the neck

Pulling tightly on Pet Whumpee’s Collar

Holding Whumpee’s head under water

Smothering

A coarse rope that rubs the neck raw

A thin metal wire that digs into Whumpee’s throat

Barbedwire that doesn’t allow any room for struggling

I have realized something today. Something I really didn’t expect.

It’s fairly easy for me to write Whumper related things. Lines, prompts, etc. I know why now. Not because I am the Whumper.

No no.

I want someone to say those words to me. Whispering it in my ear. Hurt me????

I fucking am the Whumpee asdfghjkl.

Yes, I am in dire need of Jesus right now.

Could you do a series of lines of a defiant whumpee breaks down over time? I'm having trouble portraying it properly.

First day.

“You think you’re scary? Fine then. Do your worst.”

Fifteenth day.

“H-How long are we gonna be doing this, huh? M-Might– might as well let me go at some po— AGH!”

Thirty-first day.

“Yes, Sir..? Nah, that’s fucking weird, I’m not calling you—...I- I mean.. Y-Yeah. Sorry, Sir.”

Fiftieth day.

“No, no no wait! I- I’m sorry Sir, I’m sorry for mouthing off, just please..don’t...”

???????????th day.

“S-Sir please. No more, I– please. I’ll behave.”

Vampire Whump Prompt #1

"I said open your fucking mouth," Whumper growled, fingers digging deeply into Whumpee's jaw. In their other hand, rough looking pliers set with the intent of gripping whatever they touched.

"Your fangs are too long."

Don't hurt me (Drabble)

A very random drabble I wrote at 2 am. Sorry if the writing isn't the best! ^^'

cw: whumper turned caretaker, mentions of knives and torture, feverish whumpee, infected wound

Whumper walked into Whumpee's cell as it had become routine for the both of them. Just like every other morning since Whumpee's capture, Whumper readied their blades, prepared for the daily torture session. Except that morning something was different. Whumpee hadn't looked up at their captor with those pleading and tired eyes as Whumper was used to witness. They didn't jerk away from the person in front of them, desperately trying to melt through the cold, brick wall to no avail. Actually, Whumpee hadn't even moved an inch from their original spot since Whumper had arrived. If they had to be completely honest, Whumper would've admitted that they didn't even notice Whumpee's chest rise and fall with every scared breath they took that day...

They were still breathing, right?

Whumper stepped closer to Whumpee, who was still immobile. With their left arm Whumper pulled Whumpee's head up, but when they grabbed their hair, Whumper noticed something: their face was so warm.

Whumpee wasn't responding, their eyes were closed, and it didn't seem as if they would be opening any time soon. They were weak and could barely breathe in a little bit of oxygen every once in a while. Whumper noticed a dark crimson stain on Whumpee's left side. They used their knife, not to slice into Whumpee's skin until they were awake, rather, to cut their shirt and see what was wrong. And for sure, there was a deep wound in Whumpee's side, one that Whumper themselves had made the morning prior. But maybe they had cut a little bit too deep this time...

The wound was infected, and hadn't healed at all, it was still oozing out blood, despite Whumpee's desperate attempts to stop the bleeding with some spare dirty cloth. On top of that, their whole body was burning up. This was more serious than a simple fever, Whumper knew. They also knew that if they didn't act fast, Whumpee would die. Which was something they didn't want. No, something they didn't allow. Whumpee was their property, they couldn't die just like that without Whumper's permission.

Whumper dragged Whumpee out of their cold cell, and brought them to another, more comforting room. They disinfected a washcloth and started cleaning the wound from all the dirt, puss and dried up blood. The wound looked truly terrible, and the cleaning process couldn't be considered exactly pain free... Yet Whumpee was still not moving.

After a while of cleaning and disinfecting, Whumper finally finished bandaging up the wound. Still no reaction from Whumpee. By that point, Whumper began feeling nervous. It wasn't about not being allowed to die anymore, it was about them not dying. They put a cold washcloth over their forehead, and Whumpee's face relaxed in a relieved expression, finally Whumper had earned a reaction. After a while, they changed the washcloth with a colder one and as they were doing so, Whumpee leaned slightly into their cold touch.

"P-please... D... Don't h-hurt me... "

Mine

Masterlist

The sound of a page being turned. Yellow light painting the room in shadows. Soft sheets, fluffy duvet, warm blankets. Another finished chapter. A yawn.

The book closes and he glances at the clock by the window. About time he’s went to sleep. Today has been busy, even for his standards, and tomorrow won’t be much less so either. He better lie down and rest now. No-one likes him when he hasn’t had his nine hours.

A glance at the bedroom door. Another yawn. A quiet sigh, followed by the rustle of covers, and then finally: the click of the lamp; and darkness. Silence.

Uncertain taps against the floorboards follow not long after. Cannot have been more than ten minutes later. Low, careful, irregular. Sometimes quick tip-tapping, sometimes long strides. They come towards the door and then stop when they find it closed. They think for a minute in silence, anxiously tip-tapping further in place. Then another. Another. The bare feet against the wooden boards can’t figure out what to do next. They hadn’t expected the door to be closed already.

Slowly, shakily, a nervous hand rises to touch the doorknob. Lungs take a deep calming breath and the hand turns the knob. A mouth opens slightly when the door opens. Eyes widen and neck stretches carefully in worry to glance around the door and look inside the room it leads to. Eyes see darkness and the brows crease in clear worry.

The softest little steps echo against the floor as the door is gently pushed open just enough so the boy can slip inside, and then when there is no stirring under the sheets, he closes it behind him; more careful than he has ever been in his life. He thinks about turning the lock as well, knowing that this door usually stays locked during the night, but this isn’t like usual, and he decides against it in fear of causing too much noise.

He turns around and almost jumps out of his skin when he sees a shadow sitting right up in the bed, clearly watching him in the thin moonlight coming from the windows. The shadow’s eyes twinkle and goosebumps rise along his skin.

After what feels like hours, the silence is finally broken.

“Are you just going to stand there the whole night Boo?”

The boy swallows and shakes his head, but forgets to move.

“Come.”

A sweet little gasp and even sweeter pitter-patter across the carpet, and the boy comes to stand next to the bed in moments. He kneels there, and looks down in submission, waiting for the other to tell him if he’s allowed in bed tonight. He knows he isn’t; he took too long to take care of the dishes.

The shadow lays back down as he comes closer, turning to the side and cupping the little one’s face as he kneels obediently. He leans into the touch.

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

The boy swallows, but doesn’t say anything. He is. They both know it. His cheeks flush in humiliation, and even though the darkness hides it, they both know it’s there. Gentle violence like touch without the purpose of causing pain are feathers in the wind. The gentle caress gone in an instant.

A hand finds his hair and tangles in it. It twists and pulls his head to the side painfully. He can feel his neck stretch and his hair getting pulled out of his skin, but he can more than anything feel the glare of the pair of eyes laser focused on his pain. His own hands stay down; he doesn’t try to pull away, he doesn’t fight, he doesn’t complain. He let’s his owner control his body like a doll. And the doll bends and bends and bends, until he cries out with tears in his eyes and arms shaking as he tries to keep himself upright still. He doesn’t struggle, but he hurts.

The eyes watch the doll’s swimming in precious tears of pain and the hands pull harder against his head. The doll thinks it is punishment for taking too long to finish his tasks. He thinks he deserves it and it is best to suffer through this pain without a word before he could make it any worse for himself. He’s wrong. This isn’t punishment. He hasn’t made his master angry. On the contrary.

Chuckles. White teeth – fangs – glimmer in the light of the moon, and he’s bent farther. Tears have slipped free from behind his eyelashes. He pulls yet harder. He aims to break.

Whispers. Whimpers.

“P-...Please, please, puh- ah! P-please, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m sor-ry-“

Another harsh pull and he’s sure he won’t have any hair left by morning if this keeps up. Not to mention his spine being near parallel with the floor now, his neck screaming at him to right it before it snaps and his arms screaming at him to just let himself fall to the floor before it does. His voice comes out awkwardly because of the position, cracking with choked off cries and aborted breaths, but he begs anyway. Tries to sound even more scared than he is, knowing he likes him like that. It’s got disturbingly easy by now.

“Mmh...! Ma-ma-master, please, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, it won’t happen again, please, it hurts, it hurts, it’s going to- Ah!”

The doll is cut off as he’s suddenly and violently pulled up on the bed by his hair. His cry is shushed with a hand against his windpipe, crushing the air out of him. Eyes drowning in tears - wide with panic - look up to see the other hold him down mercilessly, pinning his arms with ease up over his head by gathering his wrists in his free hand. The fear starts taking over and he begins to struggle but the instant punishment against his windpipe stops him in his tracks. Months and months of submission beaten into him forbode him against continuing his struggles in the face of oncoming pain. Eyelids come down to hide his gaze from the monster’s above him, willing himself to stay still and hope it will be done soon. While scared to pass out, he hopes this will end with fainting after the first round, rather than going on until he loses interest in him.

Adam’s apple moving up and down swiftly to try and right itself under the hand keeping something so simple from him, he chokes for the entertainment of the other. His throat burns with the pressure, his lungs with need. Right before he could lose sense and give in to his instincts to twist and fight, the hand lets up. The boy takes in wheezed gasps, shivering in his helplessness as he twists his wrists in the iron grip of his captor. Desperate to please and end this, his mouth moves between breaths to form whispers.

“...Please... I s-swear, it won’t, w-won't happen. Again. I’m good...”

“You’re good?”

His voice comes sudden and too loud in the otherwise silent room, and his whole body flinches with it.

“I’m... I’m a, a good boy. I can be good. I, I swear. Please, please, no more. I’m sorry.”

He sounds sorry. Desperate to please. At the mercy of a monster, anyone would regret every single decision they ever made that lead them to that point.

That is not why he’s doing this.

The hand starts gripping his neck harder again, and the boy whines and pulls against him.

“Do not struggle.”

He seems to understand and freezes for just a moment, but as soon as the hand tightens again, his struggles start anew. At that, the hand suddenly leaves his throat to move back in his hair and slam him against the headboard. The loud cry he let’s out quickly fades out into a groan, and next time the hand grabs his jugular again, the dizzy boy lays pliant under his owner.

“Now you’re a good boy. My darling little good boy.”

The hand finds its way around his wrists once again, and as he begins squeezing again, the boy shudders, but stays still. Only when he comes back out of his haze caused by the hit against his head do his struggles start up again. Slowly at first, knees bending and neck twisting, but before he could start his panic in earnest again, he is made to look into his owner’s eyes.

“Stay. Still.”

His voice causes his entire body to freeze, and his movements stop at once. The sheer control his voice has on him at that moment cannot be natural. It evokes a fear so deep in him, he forgets to think about the air he so desperately needs. He looks into his eyes and keeps still like he was instructed, trembling under his Master, but not making a sound. His throat is in agony, his eyes stream with tears, but he keeps perfectly still as if a spell was cast on him.

“There’s a dear. Fearful and obedient. Mine. All mine, aren’t you darling?”

His head tries to nod, but cannot, so he forms the words ‘Yes, Master’ in a soundless whisper.

His wrists are let go of for the grip on his neck to be doubled, but his hands only move to his owner’s to carefully settle on top. He doesn’t try to push him away, he simply blinks a few more tears out of his eyes at the crushing pressure and rests his trembling hands on top of the other’s.

“Who do you belong to? Tell me.”

“You, Master.”

“Again.”

“You, Master.”

The hands let up slowly, slowly, inch by inch letting the little one gasp in desperate breaths. His grip tightens on the arms holding him down, but never pushes, never struggles. He still looks up at his Master, watching for any mercy, any permission to finally breathe. He whines as he wheezes in another gasp through the straw that is his throat, and the hands suddenly tighten around him again.

“Don’t be greedy. I know what you need. Be patient.”

The animalistic panic starts to set back in but he pushes himself to the limits and tries his best to let every ounce of energy he gathered slip away again. There are spots in his vision. He’s good.

The hands let up again right as he was about to start kicking and he gasps in anything he is allowed. This time he doesn’t try getting more than he was granted, and waits patiently for the hands to rise. In time, they rise and rise, until his throat only wheezes from the force that was used to crush it, not from the attempts at the desperate breaths. They rest on his neck, not crushing anymore, just there as a reminder. A reminder to keep being good, or the pain continues until he doesn’t know anything but to be good.

Minutes pass by, and his breathing is back to normal, if a little raspy and shaking from what he just went through. He still keeps his eyes locked with his Master, waiting for anything that is still left. All he sees in them is pleasure, but if he had the energy to look deeper, he would see pride.

“What are you, my love?”

“Yours.”

“Again.”

“Yours.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Master.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Eyes crinkle in satisfaction. A deep chuckle.

“Such a sweet little kitten. Purring all these nice things to me.”

His hand finds his face and the boy dutifully leans into it, closing his eyes. Tears drying on his face, knots of hair on the pillow under him, a bump forming on the back of his head, throat abused, breath stuttering and rasping, countless other marks painting his body. Just like a cat. Nothing more, perhaps less.

“At this rate I’ll have to get one of those collars with a bell on them. A big, pretty golden bell on your neck, so I always know where you are. So you never run away.”

Bruises are already forming on his skin, and he almost feels the collar he describes around his neck. It’s there already, he knows. He doesn’t need a collar to remind him whose he is.

“I’m yours.” - He repeats. A promise. A prayer.

“Yes, love. You are. And I promise I will never let you go.”

Lips press against the forming bruises and he feels the collar already tightening around him. Around his neck, around his arms, around his legs, winding around and around until he cannot move at all, forever gasping. The kiss moves along each inch of his throat, slow, possessive. His chin raised to give better access to his Master. An unexpected bite, marking him further, arms pulling him deeper but no more than a shudder escapes him. A small groan as it draws blood, and the blood is licked away. Still, no disobedience.

Finally, finally, his neck is left alone and he’s let go. Only for a moment, because he hears the drawer open and something making noise as it’s pulled out of there. Metallic, long. He’s grabbed again, and he is chained carefully to the headboard by the neck. The cool sensation is almost burning against his hot skin, and he welcomes the small mercy. His Master returns to him once again, and pulls him into a deep embrace, arms locked around his and legs curled over him, making it near impossible to even breathe without him knowing.

Here in this room, in this house, behind locked doors, chained to a bed and held tight, he really isn’t more than a pet. A kitten. Entertainment. Possession. Something to care for, whatever that may entail in the eyes of his owner. Completely, utterly, absurdly His.

He should’ve just curled up in front of the door and waited ‘till morning. He’d rather sleep outside than in here.

Don’t Touch Me

Tw: noncon touch, noncon kiss

Whumpee shifted in the passenger seat of the car. They snuck a quick glance at Whumper, who was driving too fast. The gravel road didn’t prevent Whumper from speeding.

Whumpee forced themselves to calm their nerves. For a moment, they felt like they had a tiny bit of control over how they felt. At least until Whumpers hand found its way to their inner thigh.

Whumpee pushed Whumpers hand off of them. “Don’t touch me.”

Whumper’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. The car began to slow down.

Whumpee desperately tried to open the car door, but it was locked.

The car came to a stop and Whumper stared at Whumpee. Their face was calm, but the tightness in their jaw gave everything away.

“What did you just say to me?”

Whumpee didn’t answer, still hoping the door would open.

Whumper backhanded them, the sound ringing through Whumpee’s ear. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I- I asked you not to touch me.”

“Asked? Don’t change the details for your convenience.” They reached over and grabbed Whumpees face. They held them in place as they leaned closer.

They whispered in their ear, “That was a fucking mistake.”

“I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Whumper pulled back slightly, brushing the hair behind Whumpees ears. “Yes, you did.”

Whumper closed the gap between their lips. Whumpee couldn’t pull away due to the grip on their face. They whimpered and writhed until Whumper pulled away.

Suddenly, Whumper’s fist connected with their jaw. Whumpees head knocked back against the window. They cried out as another hit landed on them. Their head rang as the pain rushed through them. They tried to hold up their hands to protect their face, but Whumper had already pulled away.

“Don’t ever tell me not to touch you. You won’t like what happens afterwards.” Whumper restarted the car and began speeding off again. They put their hand on Whumpees thigh; Whumpee didn’t dare push it off.

Just wanted to say a quick thank you for all the love and support I’ve got from the Whumper/Whumpee lines I posted a while ago. I never thought that it would get this much attention ngl. It gave me a huge confidence boost, you don’t even want to know lmaooo. I will do my absolute best to post more lines, so that ya’ll can read some more good stuff. Anyway, thanks a lot everyone! I really appreciate it😊.

I just can’t stop thinking about hair in whump today…

- whumper touching whumpee’s hair, laughing when they pull away from them

- petting whumpee’s hair

- commenting on how absolutely beautiful it is

- traumatic haircuts & shaving whumpee’s head

- braiding whumpee’s hair lovingly, no matter how much whumpee hates it

- restraining whumpee using their hair

- washing blood out of their hair

- grabbing whumpee by the hair

- using their hair to manhandle them

- pulling chunks of whumpee’s hair out

- using whumpee’s hair to hold them in place

- whumper stroking whumpee’s hair after hurting them, continuing until whumpee drifts off into an exhausted/restless sleep

New Cover! 📖

From now on, if you buy The Fire Within My Heart, it will be with this beautiful revised cover and back 🖤

You can find out more and purchase the book here:

linktr.ee/ayshen

Pet names to use instead of "Darling,"

Got tired of always using either "kitten" or "darling" so I came up with some more and decided to share ♡

Doll

Sugar

Dear

Honey

Kitten

Peanut

Sugarplum

Teacup

Boo

Love

Sunshine

Button

Perfect

Good lookin'

Romeo

Buttercup

Gorgeous/Handsome

Angel

Pumpkin

Cupcake

Sweetheart

Eye candy

Fruit cake

Muffin

Jelly bean

Dragonfly

Mouse

Cherry Blossom

Firefly

Sweet Cheeks

Dream Boat

Bumble bee

Butterfly

Lady Bug

Casanova

Shutterbug

Monkey

Chipmunk

Chickadee

Sparrow

Bunny

Buttercream

Kit-kat

Honeybun

Cinnamon bun

Sweetie Pie

Puppy

Pussy Cat

Dearie

Gum Drop

Princess/Prince

Lollipop

Bear Cub

Teddy Bear

Robin

Pancake

Bluejay

Dove

Starlight

Dew Drop

Cuddle bug

OC Questions

After seeing a lot of the same questions in OC asks, thought I’d write a few of my own lol. Send an emoji and and for which OC:

🩸 - Does your OC believe in blood being thicker than water? (meaning family relationships and loyalties are the most important)

✂️ - What kind of thing would have your OC cut someone out of their life? How likely are they to let someone back in?

🎭 - Does your OC show different sides of themselves to different people?

🩺 - Does your OC accept help easily? Are they willing to admit when they need help?

💡 - How does your OC enact plans? Do they plan down to the smallest details, or do the wing it?

🌋 - What’s your OCs temper like? Are they a slow boil, or an instant explosion?

⏰ - What is your OC like at timekeeping? Are they punctual, or always running late?

🎁 - What kind of gift-giver are they? Do they give thoughtful gifts? Expensive gifts? Practical gifts?

📎 - How organised is your OC? Do they keep on top of responsibilities, or leave things to the last minute?

🧸 - On a scale of 1 - 10, how ‘soft’ is your OC? 1 being the edgiest of edges and 10 being a literal teddy bear that cries at everything? (Bonus questions, where on the scale would your OC place themselves, and where would they like to be on the scale?)

💬 - Is your OC much of a talker? Do they only speak when spoken to? (Or not even then?) Do they ever talk over others?

🌅 - What is your OCs favourite time of day? Are they a morning person or a night owl?

🥦 - Does your OC eat healthily or live off junk food?

🍹 - Does your OC drink? If so, what’s their drink of choice?

🍺 - What kind of drunk are they? (e.g. talkative, sleepy, flirty etc.)

ATTENTION!

Dash is kinda dead so...

Whump Blogs Active 8/'21, please interact with this post so I can follow!!!

when the vampire lady is trying to seduce you but you’re workin through stuff

hahaa yo so I made a small trash animatic with my spare because I can’t stop listening to “The Torture Tango” from the musical Spies are Forever. I used an excerpt of music from the song that made me think of our community in the best way lol

(there’s a bit of blood and stab in there if anyone doesn’t like that, but it’s pretty cartoonish so-)