﹫GiRLLiKE  —  [ Girl - Like ]

Common Household Items to Whump Your Whumpee With

Content: Vampire whump, tiny whump, suffocation/asphyxiation, heat whump, restraints, gags, burns, burned alive, auto-cannibalism, drowning.

Choke them with a chord.

Stab them with a butter knife or a fork.

Force your vampire whumpee to hold silverware.

Force them to put their hand on a hot stovetop.

Suffocate them beneath a mattress.

Gag them with a cloth/a piece of clothing.

Drown them in a bathtub.

Force them to wear warm clothes on a hot day.

Tie your tiny whumpee up with a hair-tie/elastic band.

Beat them with a pot or a pan.

Cut them with a kitchen knife.

Put your tiny whumpee in the dishwasher/laundry machine.

Sew their lips shut with a simple needle and thread.

Use them as a pin pillow while you do your crafts.

Make them hold hot plates of food for an extended period of time.

Make them eat raw food that is bound to make them sick.

Toss an immortal into the fireplace and watch them try to crawl their way out.

Cooking a part of whumpee's body into every meal and forcing them to eat it.

SERAITY．   ➷

pt: seraity. end pt.

⚘   ⌣   definition．

 a species term for angel / god hybrids; this may mean someone who is an angel who's also a god, a god who's also an angel, an angelic god, godly angel, etc. for @rabidbatboy's cointober prompts.

pt: definition, a species term for angel/god hybrids; this may mean someone who is an angel who's also a god, a god who's also an angel, an angelic god, godly angel, etcetera. for @/rabidbatboy's cointober prompts(link). end pt.

COINER．  voice of the egocentric．  ➷

⚘   ⌣   seraphim + deity．

TAGS．  @radiomogai @specieschive @eldrorian @alterhumanflags @sevvys @angeltism @jigumis @zoeynovie @eeriecute．  ➷

Hidden injuries, my beloved

I posted some of these a while ago in a reblog that I can’t find anymore, but I thought of more so it gets its own post now.  

Content: fainting, blood, injuries (nongraphic), blood loss, scars, hidden injuries, injury reveals

➤ the last one is ~extra nice~

Whumpee insisting throughout the day that they’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine— until their friends hear a loud crash and find whumpee collapsed on the ground, out cold.

Bonus points if their friends find them with their shirt ridden up, exposing deep wounds, bruises or bloody bandages that cover their limp, unconscious body. 

Whumpee turning their head away and wincing, clutching their side when their friends aren’t watching. 

Moving in a way that rips open barely formed scabs, and suddenly their wounds are gushing blood, through their clothes and down their limbs, and their friends are horrified, crowding around and interrogating them about how the hell they got those injuries.

“oh my god… who did this to you?”

Attending a social event while delirious from injury and blood loss, slurring their words and stumbling slightly every few minutes. Their friends notice something is off right away.

“What’s wrong, are you drunk or something?” — “oh ahahh nono… jusalilt-tired…” Their friends are not convinced.

A forceful caretaker who has to drag it out of them— “Stop. I don’t want to hear your shitty excuses this time. You’re going to tell me who the hell did this. Right. Now.” 

Whumpee hiding their own injuries while caring for an injured friend, insisting they’re fine and that their friend’s state is what matters (mm self sacrifice tropes) 

Being forced to return to work and pretending they’re fine, trying desperately to act like they’re not sustaining multiple horrible injuries—like the skin under their work clothes isn’t covered in deep purple bruises and painful gashes. 

On their feet all day, moving around or bending down, trying so hard to look cheerful and energized, like their ribs aren’t probably fractured and stabbing them with pain at every movement. 

Everything at the bar is going well until the group stands up to leave and someone gasps in horror at the blood that is pooling through the fabric of whumpee’s shirt or already dripping down their skin. 

Whumpee scrambling to try to cover themselves— they hadn’t even noticed the wounds had already bled through the bandages.

Unexpectedly collapsing into a friends arms after insisting they were fine all evening.

Or maybe no one’s there to catch them in time and they just crumple to the floor in front of everyone, unconscious. 

none of their friends know what happened to whumpee when they’d disappeared for a few months last year —but one day, long after their rescue, they remove their shirt to go swimming or they change in front of a friend, and they suddenly hear ‘Holy shit whumpee… how— how did you get all those scars on your back?’

In a public setting where people can’t see them but can hear them (dressing room, bathroom stall, etc), whumper reaching under their shirt and digging their fingers into the barely closed wounds, ripping them open again and just feeling around inside the open wound. Leaning in close to whumpee’s ear with a low voice — ‘better stay quiet dear, or someone might hear us— and you know what happens then.’ 

And whumpee is forced to stand still and take it, dripping blood everywhere, their own hand clamped over their mouth and try to stifle their own whimpering, until whumper finally pulls their fingers out, causing a new gush of blood - ‘god what a mess you’ve made… you’d better clean that up quickly—wouldnt want anyone to find your blood all over the place and ask what happened’

✦ ✦ ✦

Aaand now I’ve got a whole other list of forceful caretaker prompts that got so long it’s gonna have to be a separate post, so stay tuned for that :)

➤ More prompts like this

➤ More injury reveals

General whump taglist:

@whumpshaped  @whumpsday  @emmettnet   @a-whump-sideblog  @whump-it-like-its-hot  @wolfeyedwitch @whumper-soot @unorganisedalienrubbish  @kira-the-whump-enthusiast  @hidden-dreamland @whumpedydump @lonesome–hunter

Just ask to be added or removed from the taglist <3

Whump dialogue #55

"Please, I'm really sorry," Whumpee droned, staring at the floor. "I won't do it again."

Whumper hummed and nodded. "And now the honest version?"

Whumpee glared up, making direct eye contact, "Fuck you and everything you stand for."

Whumper grinned and pulled out a whip.

"See, I like it so much better when you're honest."

forever thinking about recapture

whumpee getting grabbed on their way home and dragged into a car thats hauntingly familiar

whumpee getting chloroformed again while a familiar voice is telling them to relax

or alternatively "did you really think i'd let you run?"

whumpee realising their home has been broken into and finding a threatening message somewhere. even just a found you scribbled on the wall

whumpee attacked while they're fumbling with the key to get inside, then promptly shoved inside the apartment and being tied up in their own bedroom

whumpee approached in a public setting, frozen in fear and unable to alert anyone because they know whumper has the ability to cause a bloodbath and they don't want to get innocent civilians involved

whumpee approached in a public setting and whumper showing them a photo of a tied up caretaker in a room that has served as whumpee's prison for months. "how about a trade?"

whumpee waking up in a familiar cell, having panic attack after panic attack, sobbing and screaming their throat raw because this can't be happening again

whumpee going docile and quiet as soon as they realise what's happening, their conditioning kicking in to protect them

"i'm so glad you still remember me"

"you haven't forgotten your manners, have you?"

"i heard you went to therapy, hm? i hope they haven't stuffed your head full of too many lies"

whumper bringing out their most common torture instrument. "for old times' sake"

caretaker realising that whumpee didn't send them their daily text, the one they agreed on specifically so they'd know whumpee was okay

whumpee not picking up the phone for the third time

whumper picking up whumpee's phone. "oh, thank goodness whumpee, i thought-" "i'm awfully sorry, they're a bit preoccupied at the moment." caretaker can hear whumpee's muffled cries and screams in the background

caretaker arriving home and finding the apartment ransacked and empty

caretaker finding a letter from whumper. "thanks for watching them while i was dealing with the police <3"

caretaker finding a stack of photos of whumpee being subdued in their own apartment

RACCOON: a presentation term for queer masculine presenting individuals who have permanent dark circles, and appear scruffy, disheveled and messy, this might be due to a disorder/mental health issues but this is not a requirement

TAGGING: @radiomogai

🧼 ——— FLAG COINED BY ME

Teaching subs to beg is unbelievably hot. The embarrassment, the stuttering, the way they can barely finish a sentence at first. The way their voice gets all soft and desperate. How it starts with them protesting that they can’t until you push them to the point of desperation, until all they can do is whimper please and your name and whatever you tell them to say. How cute and sweet and pliable they are like that.

✙𓈒 essafire ❞

a term for when your gender identity is something only you experience; for when your gender is your own and no one else's; for when your identity is so intertwined with your gender that you can't distinguish them from each other.

dividers by @narcbf

Scared of the Dark?

(TW: sensory deprivation, panic attack, phobia, whip, handcuffs, blindfolded)

.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of the dark? Sweetheart, that’s something I can help with.”

Whumpee’s world swam into darkness as the mask pressed against their eyelids. This wasn’t like the normal blindfolds; this one was fitted and soft. Not a trickle of light could wriggle in from the bottom. No grey, no pink, only pure, suffocating blackness.

Panic immediately clenched in Whumpee’s chest. Darkness was bad enough in their old, safe bedroom, but in this psychos basement? Worse. Somehow - impossibly- worse.

Whumper somewhere in the room with them. Oh fuck. Oh fuck where did they go?

The ground immediately felt unsteady under their feet. Whumpee flexed their fingers open and shut rhythmically, trying to keep their breathing steady. The cuffs bit into their wrists as they did. Their ears strained, trying to find Whumper in the deep blackness. They felt like they were floating. Falling. Screaming. They jerked against the cuffs without thinking. Where are they?? Where are they?!

“Please. Please take it off. Please, I’ll be so good.” Their voice shook more than they expected - some of the squeaking words caught between a whisper and nothingness.

A jolt of panic snapped through Whumpee’s spine as fingertips brushed their cheek - no. Knuckles. Gently. They twitched their face away from the touch without thinking. In front of them. Whumper was in front of them.

Whumper laughed softly, and their breath tickled Whumpee’s left ear. Shit. Fuck. Next to them. Whumpee was next to them.

“So good for me? What are you going to do to be good for me? To persuade me?” Whumper stepped closer, their front pressing against Whumpee’s back. FUCK. Behind them. Whumper was behind them. Final answer. Standing behind, speaking in their ear, reaching around to touch their face. Whumpee was completely surrounded. Surrounded by them. By touch. By darkness. Cold, suffocating darkness. Whumpee barely choked back a sob.

Without their sight, they felt unsteady. Like the ground was at an angle. Like they could fall any minute and would have no idea where they’d land. Maybe they wouldn’t land. Maybe they would fall down down down into the sucking inky void, screaming on and on forever as the darkness ate the sound from their throat.

“Well this is certainly having an effect on you,” Whumper gloated. “You can’t even focus enough to answer one little question.” Whumper’s hand dropped from their cheek and trailed down their waist. Whumpee’s skin twitched under the touch, trying to crawl away.

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut as tightly as they could manage. Maybe if it’s their choice that they can’t see, the darkness couldn’t devour them.

It did anyway.

“Qu-question?” Whumpee stammered, trying to focus.

Whumper’s fingertips changed direction, skimming small looping patterns over their side and thigh. Completely unpredictable, changing directions sporadically. “Yes, sweet. My question. What would you do to persuade me to take it off?”

Whumpee could feel the strings of the mask burning around their skull. Off. They needed it off. “Anything. Anything, please. Please just take it off.”

“Well thats’s not very persuasive,” Whumper chuckled, using their other hand to make the same velvety soft patterns up Whumpee’s arm. “I’m having a pretty good time right now, so you would have to think of something I want to do even more.”

Off. Off. They were going to take it off. Think of something.

“Darling, I’m not going to wait all night. Make me an offer.”

Whumpee’s heart was pounding in their ears. Think of something. Anything. Something bad. Darkness? No. Not that bad thing. Another bad thing. Something they would like.

Whumpee’s head spun and fell apart into a hundred scattered pieces. The only thing they could think of was the sucking blackness pulling at their skin.

“Better hurry, I’m starting to get bored.” Whumper’s fingers trailed over tender, tingling scars. Whumpee twitched away without thinking, but Whumper only laughed softly. Good. They were usually mad when Whumpee flinched too much. Then they got the whip-

That’s a thing.

“The whip.”

Whumper laughed loudly, making Whumper flinch more. “Ah, so you can talk after all. You really want the whip?”

“Please. Please take it off now. I-I can’t do anymore.”

“No no, darling. I need you to beg me.” Whumper’s hands left Whumpee’s body. That was somehow worse. Whumpee could tell that they were moving but couldn’t tell where. Everything was lost to the void.

Focus. Beg.

“Please. Please. Please take it off.”

Whumper laughed again. Shit. They were in front of them now. The void got smaller. Suffocating them. Squeezing their flesh while trying to rip them apart.

“No no, don’t beg me to take it off. Beg me to whip you. Beg me to make you scream. Tell me how badly you want to bleed for me.”

Pain was coming. So much pain. It sounded like a blessed release - anything but the darkness. They drew in a shaking breath. “Please. The whip. Please whip me.”

“Aww, I think you can be a little more convincing than that.”

Whumpee started to shake so badly they were afraid their knees would give out. The ground still seemed uneaven and sloped under their feet. Just say the words. Say it and it will be done.

“I want you to make me bleed. Please, I want you to whip me. I want to scream for you. I’ll be so good. So, so good. Please take it off and let me be good for you. Let me scream for you.”

Whumpee jerked away as soft fingers cupped their face, but Whumper’s grip help firm. “Now that’s better. So much better. You really are being good for me. You really want me to whip you?”

“Yes. Yes, please whip me.”

“You want to scream for me?”

“I’ll scream so loud. Please. Please.”

“Well how can I say no when my darling is being so sweet? Alright. I’ll whip you.”

Relief flooded Whumpee. Maybe some panic too, but any more panic in their blood was negligible.

“Now thank me for being so gracious.”

Whumpee bit their lip. Just say it and it will be over. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. What a good pet I have.”

Whumpee trembled as Whumper’s hands pulled away from their face. They waited for the mask to slide up and off of them, but it stayed untouched.

“I’m going to take those cuffs off you now,” Whumper said, moving back behind them.

“But you said you’d-”

“Patience, sweet. I thought you said you were going to be good for me? Or would you rather I leave it on all night?”

Whumpee’s mouth snapped shut. Hot tears were starting to fill the mask. They tried to seep back into the creases of their eyelids as the mask pressed close.

“Don’t touch the mask.”

Whumper fiddled with the cuffs for a moment before it clicked off of one hand, then the other.

The Whumpee itched to pull the mask off, but settled for rubbing their aching wrists instead. They were warm and wet - Whumpee hadn’t realized their wrists had started bleeding again. They must have been pulling harder than they thought. The feel of their blood between their fingers made Whumpee dizzy all over again.

They tried to take a step to regain their balance, but that made it worse. Their hands instinctively snapped up to their face to pull off the blindfold.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Whumper growled, clamping onto Whumpee’s wrists and yanking their arms back down.

“I’m sorry! I slipp-”

“Shut up,” Whumper snapped. “If you so much as touch that mask, I will duct tape it to your face and leave you like that until the weekend.”

Their voice dropped. Low. Dangerous. “And if you take it off?” Whumper’s breath brushed across Whumpee’s face and they whispered, “I will cut out your eyes and you will live in this darkness until the day you die. Got it?”

Whumpee’s chest closed in again. They choked for air, processing the threat.

A sharp pain spread across their cheek as their head snapped to the side. “I said. Got it?”

“Yes. I got it,” came the parroted response. Air flooded their lungs again. Too fast. Too slow. Not enough. Whumpee focused on opening and closing their hands again. They couldn’t start hyperventilating. They would pass out. They didn’t want to black out into a deeper darkness. Focus.

“Good. Now get on your knees. I’m going to whip you just like you asked. And you had better be good for me.”

“But,” The mask burned into their face. Off. They needed it off. “You promised. Please. Please take it off.”

Whumper chucked from the other side of the room. Whumpee could hear them pulling the whip off of its place on the wall.

“You begged me to whip you, so I’ll whip you. You never specified that I needed to take the mask off first. Now get on your knees.”

Whunpee’s hands twitched. They clenched them together to keep from touching the mask. It was hard. Very hard.

“Please just-“

The whip cracked across their chest. Whumpee screamed, stumbling back.

“I said ‘knees’. Now.”

Whumpee hesitated.

“Don’t make tell you again.”

Whumpee’s knees buckled involuntarily, and they sunk to the floor. They couldn’t hold back their sobs anymore. Their breaths came shallow and fast, a sporadic and painful rhythm as they choked on the all-consuming blackness.

Whumpee couldn’t even brace for the pain as their chest tightened more and more. Their hands went numb as the darkness flooded through them. The cold sucking sensation overwhelmed them. The world turned upside down as the blackness pulled them deeper into the void.

Whumpee flinched hard as Whumper’s fingers gently brushed through their hair, but they didn’t pull away.

“Oh darling, you’re such a mess.”

Whumpee continued their choking sobs in response. They were shaking so hard they were afraid they’d topple over and fall into eternity.

“You have been so good for me. You didn’t even touch the mask. I’m so proud of you.”

The mask burned. It pulled in on their face like a python, squeezing tighter and tighter as they gaped for air. The darkness sucked away their warmth, leaving them shaking and numb, fighting for life on the concrete.

“So good indeed. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

Searing white light flooded Whumpee’s vision as Whumper slipped the mask up and off. They gasped at the crisp air, eyes darting around the room painfully. Whumpee’s hands flew to their face, and they scrubbed the tears away from their eyes, blinking up at the light. Feeling returned to their fingers, a burning, blessed warmth.

Whumper knelt in front of them, tossing the whip far to the side, out of reach.

“But…” Whumpee stammered, “but, but I thought you-”

“Oh hush, darling. Don’t work yourself back up into a panic.” Their fingers snuck out to caress Whumpee’s cheek, and Whumpee gladly leaned into the soft warmth. “You were very, very good for me. You’ve done enough for today.”

Whumpee blinked at them. “No…no whip?”

“Not tonight.”

Whumpee reached up to hold the hand on their cheek as they processed the words. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Whumper. Thank you!”

Whumper smiled at them, warmly but amused. “You’re very welcome.”

Whumper stood up smoothly and retrieved the whip, putting it back in its place on the wall.

“Bring me the mask and cuffs, will you?”

“Of course, Whumper.”

Whumpee located both on the floor behind them. They scooped them up and stood - legs all pins and needles - and quickly brought them to Whumper who took them and tucked them away in their places as well.

“There. Everything where it should be.” Whumper glanced at the clock. “Except you. You should be in bed at this hour.” Whumper turned and gently wiped away the rest of Whumpee’s tears. They hadn’t quite calmed down yet, but they could breathe. That was good enough.

“Let’s get you to bed. And take this with you.” They handed Whumpee a small box.

It was a nightlight. Brand new.

Whumpee looked up at them, eyes wide.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I told you I could help. I take care of my things. Now, get to bed,” Whumper said, tousling Whumpee’s hair playfully. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

.

Continued here.

June of Doom day 15

 “please” (blindfold/pressure point/scream)

Content warning: branding

“Say my name, and I’ll let you go.”

“I told you dammit, I don't–augh!” Another brand was pressed into Whumper’s skin, burning another scar into their flesh.

Whumper struggled against their bindings, trying fruitlessly to slip from the ropes binding them to the chair or remove the blindfold from their eyes. Their exposed flesh was governed in angry, bright burns, the marks of hot metal having been pressed into their skin. Their skin was damp with sweat.

“That’s not a good answer. Try again.”

“Shit–” Whumper swore, shaking. “W-whumpee? Are you Whumpee, is that why you’re doing this?!”

The iron was pressed against Whumper’s cheek, sizzling against the tears that had begun dripping down their face. Whumper screamed.

“Please!” Whumper’s words came out as a sob. They flailed in their seat, trying desperately to escape the agony. They gave a pained gasp when it was finally removed, ducking their head and letting out a pitiful whine. 

Caretaker carefully returned the iron to the fireplace, keeping a close eye on Whumper’s shaking form. Whumper didn’t know who they were. Not their name, their face, their voice, or even that they existed. They had no way of knowing. 

Caretaker smiled. “Wrong. Try again,”