#horrible terrible
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In Relief and Reverie
continuation from this
Tags: vampire whump, creepy/intimate whumper, prettyboy vampire whumpee, starvation, worship and withdrawl ~ my usual nonsense
The vampire’s knees were starting to go numb.
He had no idea how long he’d been made to kneel there, at his owner's feet.
Aris didn’t move from where he’d been placed--the heavy rings of steel locked around his neck and his wrists weighed him down and tethered him to them.
Rowe leaned back in their seat, slowly wrapping one hand around the chain on the vampire’s collar. There was a tug on the chain, forcing a sharp exhale from Aris' throat as he was forced to lean in.
Rowe smiled.
The vampire’s eyes stayed locked to the floor, perhaps not willing to give Rowe the satisfaction. But Rowe was fine with that. They knew how to get the mutt’s attention.
Rowe reached for their pocket, grinning wider. Fingers found what they were looking for; they slid a small shining object from the dark folds of fabric and flicked it open with practiced ease.
Sure enough, those red eyes darted up the moment he heard it—that all too familiar metallic shing that seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room.
It was the scalpel.
Again.
Aris flinched back, expecting the pain, before he saw his owner bring it to their own skin and his eyes went wide.
Rowe snickered and aligned the blade, smug eyes never leaving the vampire for long; they began to carefully drag the blade through the skin on their own shoulder. It slid painfully slowly through the uppermost layers of skin, and Aris’ held his breath–it was so silent he swore he could hear his master’s skin ripping.
He knew nothing cloud prepare him for what was about to happen.
The moment the first bead of blood hit the air, his eyes shot alarmingly wide—irises glowing a bright, hungry red.
He was panting; his fangs extended to full length without him even realizing. He bit back a whine and exhaled sharply through gritted teeth—his breath was coming in hot and fast—his chest was heaving with desperation—he instantly lunged forward when—
Rowe’s foot moved just slightly, the toe of their boot pressing forward to firmly meet the vampire’s sternum.
The vampire froze instantly. His eyes snapped up to his owner—wide and terrified, yet still alight with that deep hungry red, shining like glowing tail lights.
Rowe just sat there, looking casual as ever. The sole of their boot pressed more firmly into Aris’ chest, pushing him back a bit, and allowing absolutely no room to move forward. It wasn’t a rough gesture, but the message was clear enough.
“Move one more inch without permission and this boot will be buried in your mouth.”
Rowe could feel Aris shudder at the threat– poorly hidden.
“I should whip your back to shreds for what you just did.”
The vampire cringed at the whine that escaped his own lips. He wanted to sink into the floor. He sounded utterly pathetic.
Rowe couldn't help but crack a smile, a low, pleased hum buzzing just behind their teeth.
“You’re lucky you make for such a nice view.”
Rowe sat back, getting comfortable, vowing themselves to enjoy this.
“Today I’m feeling… generous. I might give you a chance to prove you can control yourself before I decide just how badly you’ve fucked up.”
They leaned casually against the armrest of the chair with their chin resting on their hand. An amused hum slipped past their lips; their features twisted into a narrow-eyed smile as the vampire desperately tried—and failed—to compose himself over and over.
Rowe let the blood drip freely.
...
It was a losing game, really.
Aris knew it was.
He knew it had been weeks now.
Weeks since he had last been allowed to feed.
But the blood was right there—fresh, delicious, hot, red, human blood—god, his owner had the best blood he had ever tasted—and it was trickling down their collarbone right in front of him and—
He didn’t deserve it.
He had lunged.
Was this all just a trick?
Was he not going to be hurt for this?
He’d rather just get it over with, so he could stop waiting around and suffocating in whatever terrifying limbo this was.
So he could just suffer and make it better.
Aris knew.
He knew.
He had lunged. He was so sorry.
God, he’d take the beating gratefully if it meant an end to this—to the twisting poisonous feeling that squeezed around his insides.
It was torture, to not know where he stood.
Maybe if Aris took it well, he’d be allowed to beg, to plead and apologize over and over, as many times as Rowe allowed.
But it was a losing game, wasn’t it?
A game against his own hunger, his instincts, his desperation—against that smell.
And then he understood.
This was his punishment.
To be made to wait.
To be made to fail.
To be locked in an unwinnable battle against the part of his mind that was screaming at him to lunge, to bite, to gnash his teeth like a wild animal, to clamp his jaws around anything he could reach.
It was right there. It was right there— in front of his face.
Rowe held him there for what seemed like ages, watching him with a pleased smirk—pressing the sole of their boot into his chest and swirling around the trickling blood on their own shoulder until the vampire was fucking drooling and whining, ensnared by the smell wafting through the room and the screaming voices in his own head.
At last, Rowe was sure that the vampire had reached his breaking point, that he would say or do anything if it got him out of this. They relished in his pitiful expression when Aris raised his gaze—the defeat in his teary eyes—and God he was pleading—
“Please— it’s been so long since… since you fed me.”
Rowe snickered, uncrossing their legs for a better view.
Perfect.
“Beg properly, pretty thing, and maybe I won’t make your punishment worse.”
The vampire bit straight through his lip trying to stop the low pained whine that slipped out through gritted teeth when he heard them say it.
’Beg.’
“Please — you— you can’t make me do this—”
“What do you think, another three weeks? Or should we do four? You know I can starve you as long as I want to. It's not like you’ll die.”
Aris choked on his words, his throat closed up at every attempt, and nothing came out but a pitiful, terrified whimper.
Oh, he loathed it. A prouder version of himself might have held out, just to spare himself the shame. But it had been weeks. It had been weeks and god—it was the smell of them.
It was the sound of Rowe’s heart beating.
The way he could feel the blood pulsing through his owner’s veins—it was driving him beyond insane—he could barely think at all—
Fuck it.
His voice cracked and he felt the tears spill over.
That was no time for pride.
A icy pang of dread accompanied the realization that he had never been allowed to beg for forgiveness like this. Not for something this bad.
He only had one chance.
What if he got it wrong?
What if Rowe changed their mind—and—
please, I don’t know what you—
I—I don’t—
I don’t know how to please you.
He gazed desperately at the cut on Rowe’s shoulder through teary, glistening eyes.
Please—this has to work.
Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, all the way down to Rowe’s shoes.
When that boot didn’t immediately rise up to crack across his face, he allowed himself to exhale, brushing his lips just barely against the cool leather.
The steel toe.
Kissing the thing that could slam into his face at any moment, that could shatter his entire jaw in a second, if Rowe so chose it. He was desperate.
He could only pray that this would please them.
His voice was a shaky whisper against the freshly shined leather—
”Please—please, please, please-”
Slowly but firmly, Rowe's boot hooked under his chin, forcing his head up to face them.
“Almost there, sweetheart.” A sickly sweet smile spread across their face. They could feel him shaking through the leather.
‘God, you're so gorgeous like this.’
“Please what... Come on, pet, tell me what you want.”
Rowe looped the chain that connected to his collar around in their palm once more, and Aris nearly choked when the metal tightened around his throat.
But he stayed down.
He knew better.
“Don’t be shy now, pretty. Tell me what you need.”
Every time Rowe opened their mouth, Aris felt another pang of humiliation hit his chest. He wanted to curl in on himself and cry.
But he knew better, and he pressed his lips once more against the leather of Rowe’s shoes, trailing slow kisses from the steel tip to the laces.
Though the thought of blood never faded from his mind, he started to drift into the task without realizing it.
His head felt fuzzy and so... heavy.
He heard Rowe give a pleased hum from somewhere above him, and felt his mind slowly melting into a foggy, desperate sludge—disorienting waves wrapped around his chest and his head until he was open-mouthed and tonguing at the laces and whining again.
Each breath was laced with an edge of something from deep within his chest. Something that had long since wound itself around his mind--a slow, slithering python that had now found its moment strike.
And when he felt the weight of Rowe’s other boot rest heavily on the back of his neck, he groaned.
It was bliss.
It was forgiveness.
It was a relief to be good.
To obey.
To have pleased them.
It was a relief dwarfed only by an imagined end to his hunger, but a relief he would take nonetheless.
Aris remained there, lips and tongue pressed to his owner’s shoe, worshiping in relief and in reverie, for as long as Rowe decided to keep him there.
—
Update 11/23: I did a rewrite of this I think its much better now <33
general taglist: @whumpshaped @whumpsday @emmettnet @a-whump-sideblog @whump-it-like-its-hot @wolfeyedwitch @whumper-soot @unorganisedalienrubbish @hidden-dreamland @whumpedydump @lonesome--hunter @ashh-ed @whump-in-the-closet @oriantthegiant @banditosong @anonymustyou @feralwhump @jieunie-23 @whumpasaurus101 @morning-star-whump @whmp @captain-bo-bob-bobby @the-beasts-have-arrived @spooky-scary-vampires @burningkittypoet @veyroswin @painsandconfusion @skittles-the-whumpee @demondamage
#im gonna send a knife to every house in Florida. one of them will reach you.#vampire whump#I barely proofread idgaf enjoy this self indiulgent shit hell yeah#horrible terrible#akia.txt#me write thing#rowe and aris#Rowe oc#Aris oc#my writing#whump writing#starvation whump#starved whumpee#begging#Mm tasty#blood#tw blood
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*puts the most pointless ask in your inbox*
*gives the most uninteresting answer*
#im still mad that interesting isnt “interresting”#as in “resting between something”#which admittedly doesnt make any sense at all but i always misspell it out of instinct#horrible terrible#ask answer
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I miss when I was little and would put my phone on airplane mode so I wouldn't get ads in games. now I gotta worry about shit like work calls and reassuring my mother that I'm still alive
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Hi Gess Mwah mwah
Hihihihi!!! MWWWWAH!!! How’ve you been beloved??
#currently eating salmon#talking about mushrooms#life is great#until I have to clean dishes and put the bathroom curtain and organize the dishes#gess box of cookies#horrible terrible
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i went to a tiny counterserve diner once and accidentally poured sugar instead of salt all over my hashbrowns and was eating them sadly anyways. the waitress took them away and started making me another one and I tried to protest, but she just snorted and said "we're not catholic here". now every time i'm doing something painful out of obligation i think about how that is not repenting, this body is not a catholic establishment, there is no nobility in suffering.
#edit: i know i did not invent the phrase no nobility in suffering#holy fuck this hit 50k are we all. doing okay.#please stop telling me about sweet latkes i knOW about them#this was a terrible horrible accident involving a sugar shaker with a very large opening that i mistook as being a salt shaker#there was a quarter cup of white granulated sugar on my hashbrown before i could even process my mistake
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dude unrelated to ANYTHING but im sick right and it's like 2am and i want to go downstairs and make tea bc my throat hurts but i've just been WAITING. for my parents to go to sleep and there have been like six false alarms abt it. it's been so long ive given up and am just going to bed lmao i cannot out-awake my dad who is incapable of sleeping at the best of times
uuurg that is the worst situation to be in tbh 😭
#so so hate when u like. need something in the kitchen but its hella late and u dont wanna wake ur parents up 😭#horrible terrible#ask#soryasongsaa#pen and ink
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creatures..... beasts even...... freaks perhaps....
EDIT : All these designs have been sold as adoptables by now!
#;my art#;not oc#artblock has me in a horrible terrible chokehold lately so i'm incapable of producing more than tiny sketches at the moment
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In a perfect world they would have written a plotline where Dean becomes addicted to angel grace because it was the only thing that keeps the effects of the mark of cain at bay.
In a perfect world it would have been the perfect parallel to Sam's demon blood junkie arc
In a perfect world, Cas would have been Deans Ruby
IN A PERFECT WORLD THATS HOW THEY WOULDVE GOTTEN TOGTHER
#but we dont live in a perfect world#we live in a horrible terrible fucked up world were they all died and nothing is real#i need someone to write this#supernatural#castiel#dean winchester#spn#destiel#bbc merlin#sam winchester
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larian really said "we've buffed cazador and you can now frame astarion for murder. fuck that gay elf."
#this is so funny to me ksljsklhf#astarion and the terrible‚ horrible‚ no good‚ very bad patch#baldur's gate 3#astarion
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[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [PART 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]
you dropped your crown king
[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction!]
#dbhc#ethoslab#xisumavoid#docm77#dbhc doc#dbhc xisuma#dbhc etho#etho#xisuma#doc#hermitcraft#hermitcraft au#destruction#art escapades#slinking away after this one#alternate captions i considered:#uh oh!#:skull:#xisumavoid and the terrible horrible no good very bad day#i will now be ignoring my inbox for the next 3 months#hermitcraft dbh au#tw gore#tw techno gore#tw glitch#tw eyestrain#tw blood#tw limb loss#tw head trauma#lmk if you need me to tag any more tws!#dbhc art
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oh god oh fuck they twitterfied my tumblr too now
#urgh nooooo :(#like in theory im fine with this but#my neurodivergent ass is feeling uncomfy af with this#horrible terrible#ramble
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working at the Zomburger has just given Streber another outlet for his horrible dreadful arts and crafts 😔
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just had the record longest day at work at the long day at work factory
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"Basically what happens is, Grace and Max are right about to win. They're right about to do it. And then, there's a groaning. In the floorboards. Suddenly, the staircase gives out beneath Grace and Max, and they fall through the floors. They fall stories. Pieces of wood shove through their chests, and they both are killed."
"But keep this in mind, nothing truly dies in the Waylon house. Grace and Max become ghosts, and they're off doing whatever, but they're no longer involved in the tournament."
So.. that Pit Stop in Hatchetfield tag team deathmatch huh.
#hand in unlovable hand#Pulling pledges last-second to affect the results is FOUL but this was the best possible outcome for them actually.#relative to the death tournament where every other character dies a horrible death anyways#but more importantly. to my entertainment. They win even when they lose.#Terrible for hatchetfield though. Just one of them was enough to be World Ending Cataclysm levels disastrous#and now there's two of them. terrible.#a pit stop in hatchetfield#Ted finally survives a timeline but his friends and family are dead and there are murder ghosts on the loose#nerdy prudes must die#Also tom being the nighthawks coach loredrop. and max being hesitant to fight him#I mean he does anyways but it's the thought that counts right#grace chasity#jagertity#max jagerman#starkid#hatchetfield#hatcherverse#cakeart#Coping about lex and ethan though. swept in my heart
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part 2!!!! [read part one here]
transcript below the cut arranged into stanzas to help show where the rhymes are:
“that’s why they brought gem in? as a failsafe?” as a pawn.
we were told to point her at whoever we need gone
“gem won’t hurt her allies. …yet.” the curse she carries will
it’s had its eye on her since she lost the other eye
she was specially selected for her hunting skill
it’s quite the high honor. “wow. how generous.” we try
think about it: why does almost no one fight the curse?
“given how fast scott killed skizz last season, i can guess.”
[“any pain you spare your friends, you’ll have to suffer worse”?]
it’s designed to shut down higher reasoning with stress
#if you still can't see the rhyme scheme try reading it out loud#if that doesn't work uh. idk. can't help you#my art#grian#geminitay#smajor1995#bdoubleo100#inthelittlewood#secret life#grian and his terrible horrible no good very bad eldritch coworkers: the sequel#cant wait to post the next part so i can be like 'my three secret life comics. and yes they all rhyme'#this one narratively doesn't work nearly as well as a standalone compared to part 1#however i accidentally went way too hard and could probably upload the middle page + second to last panel as their own separate art pieces#tbh i'm considering putting an explanation of everything below the readmore buuut i don't feel like it atm. :3 later maybe#me and my 20+ life series headcanons i only allude to without explicitly stating don't need to explain ourselves#still experimenting with this webtoon-esque vertical comic style#still not sure i like it#it gets long too quickly#among other things#but it's very easy to read on a phone so
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