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writinggremlin · 8 hours

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Resources For Writing Sketchy Topics

Medicine

A Study In Physical Injury

Comas

Medical Facts And Tips For Your Writing Needs

Broken Bones

Burns

Unconsciousness & Head Trauma

Blood Loss

Stab Wounds

Pain & Shock

All About Mechanical Injuries (Injuries Caused By Violence)

Writing Specific Characters

Portraying a kleptomaniac.

Playing a character with cancer.

How to portray a power driven character.

Playing the manipulative character.

Portraying a character with borderline personality disorder.

Playing a character with Orthorexia Nervosa.

Writing a character who lost someone important.

Playing the bullies.

Portraying the drug dealer.

Playing a rebellious character.

How to portray a sociopath.

How to write characters with PTSD.

Playing characters with memory loss.

Playing a pyromaniac.

How to write a mute character.

How to write a character with an OCD.

How to play a stoner.

Playing a character with an eating disorder.

Portraying a character who is anti-social.

Portraying a character who is depressed.

How to portray someone with dyslexia.

How to portray a character with bipolar disorder.

Portraying a character with severe depression.

How to play a serial killer.

Writing insane characters.

Playing a character under the influence of marijuana.

Tips on writing a drug addict.

How to write a character with HPD.

Writing a character with Nymphomania.

Writing a character with schizophrenia.

Writing a character with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Writing a character with depression.

Writing a character who suffers from night terrors.

Writing a character with paranoid personality disorder.

How to play a victim of rape.

How to play a mentally ill/insane character.

Writing a character who self-harms.

Writing a character who is high on amphetamines.

How to play the stalker.

How to portray a character high on cocaine.

Playing a character with ADHD.

How to play a sexual assault victim.

Writing a compulsive gambler.

Playing a character who is faking a disorder.

Playing a prisoner.

Portraying an emotionally detached character.

How to play a character with social anxiety.

Portraying a character who is high.

Portraying characters who have secrets.

Portraying a recovering alcoholic.

Portraying a sex addict.

How to play someone creepy.

Portraying sexually/emotionally abused characters.

Playing a character under the influence of drugs.

Playing a character who struggles with Bulimia.

Illegal Activity

Examining Mob Mentality

How Street Gangs Work

Domestic Abuse

Torture

Assault

Murder

Terrorism

Internet Fraud

Cyberwarfare

Computer Viruses

Corporate Crime

Political Corruption

Drug Trafficking

Human Trafficking

Sex Trafficking

Illegal Immigration

Contemporary Slavery

Black Market Prices & Profits

AK-47 prices on the black market

Bribes

Computer Hackers and Online Fraud

Contract Killing

Exotic Animals

Fake Diplomas

Fake ID Cards, Passports and Other Identity Documents

Human Smuggling Fees

Human Traffickers Prices

Kidney and Organ Trafficking Prices

Prostitution Prices

Cocaine Prices

Ecstasy Pills Prices

Heroin Prices

Marijuana Prices

Meth Prices

Earnings From Illegal Jobs

Countries In Order Of Largest To Smallest Risk

Forensics

arson

Asphyxia

Blood Analysis

Book Review

Cause & Manner of Death

Chemistry/Physics

Computers/Cell Phones/Electronics

Cool & Odd-Mostly Odd

Corpse Identification

Corpse Location

Crime and Science Radio

crime lab

Crime Scene

Cults and Religions

DNA

Document Examination

Fingerprints/Patterned Evidence

Firearms Analysis

Forensic Anthropology

Forensic Art

Forensic Dentistry

Forensic History

Forensic Psychiatry

General Forensics

Guest Blogger

High Tech Forensics

Interesting Cases

Interesting Places

Interviews

Medical History

Medical Issues

Misc

Multiple Murderers

On This Day

Poisons & Drugs

Police Procedure

Q&A

serial killers

Space Program

Stupid Criminals

Theft

Time of Death

Toxicology

Trauma

#for latersies

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writinggremlin · 8 hours

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1. Onyx. "Must be on high alert-- SHIT WHAT WAS THAT?! ...I'm just gonna take my noodles and go curl up in The Safe Corner(tm)."

2. Probably Alternos. That makes sense.

3. Jacky and Sunni. They're both weird lesbians. Mars is the third person who just wants them to kiss already.

4. Ember. Angy. Firey. The pure protective rage of the sun.

5. Mist. My sweet little damsel in distress. My first lil blorbo. Iconic.

6. Kage. Idk how the hell he became the main character, he was NOT supposed to do that. It was supposed to be Mist-- who the hell let him do this? wHo lEt yOU iN HErE?!?!??!?

EVERY OC LIST GOT THA:

-constantly anxious who is 5 seconds away from a panic attack at all times -obsessed with blood -weird lesbian -5 seconds away from beating the shit out of everyone -the mascot -the one who's actually drawn/written about 99% of the time

#Onyx #alternos #jacky #sunni #ember #mist #kage #The Gremlins OCs

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writinggremlin · 1 day

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The Surgery (1979)

— by Dimitris Anastasiou

#good soup #delicious soup #rare for art to give me whumperflies like that

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writinggremlin · 1 day

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Whumpee laid unconcious on caretaker's lounge;

Caretaker had been watching over them. He saw some blood on the shoulder of whumpee's t-shirt and touched to see if was coming from their arm. The moment caretaker's hand made contact, like a flash whumpee flinched and jolted awake, their eyes taking a moment to adjust to surroundings, "Caretaker?"

Gazing at caretaker with hazy vision, as drugs were still lingering in their system. Whumpee cringed, sucking air through their teeth, "Whoa... why's everything hurt right now?"

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writinggremlin · 1 day

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The Rare Bookseller Part 49: Alexander's Task

Prev > Masterlist

tw: mind control, hypnotic induction, branding, possessiveness, drunkenness

September 1925

The walk home from the ballet had been somber, to say the least. Oliver had started off the night so excited, and he knew Alexander had, too, anticipating a lovely night out. But now Oliver was terrified, and his master was simmering in fury in a way that Oliver hadn't seen from him before.

"Not at you, Oliver," he said when pressed. "I'm not angry with you. You followed my instructions; you couldn't have done any better. No, it's my sire I'm furious at."

Oliver nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Is he actually going to drink from me, sir?"

Unsurprisingly, this made Alexander's fury deepen. He took a long time before answering. "My hands are tied. Certain arrangements have to be made."

"What does that mean, sir?"

"...Leave me. I'm in no state to -- we'll discuss it next evening."

And Oliver had no choice but to comply with his master's wishes, as the waves that usually drew him closer to Alexander were now pushing him away.

Alexander stormed off to his quarters the moment they arrived at home, and Oliver didn't dare follow. Instead, he did his best to comfort himself with a mug of warm milk and a supper of buttered bread. Afterwards, he retired to his own chambers early, curled up in his soft warm bed but unable to rest, flipping listlessly through books, unable to focus on any words and looking only at the illustration plates.

It was as if he could still feel the ancient vampire's unnatural grip on his body. He didn't want that vampire to visit, and despite all of his conditioning, he certainly didn't want him drinking his blood.

His blood was his master's alone -- and that thought certainly was the conditioning, stronger in his mind than any of his own convictions.

It was well past morning when he finally sank into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and waking up halfway from nightmares. By the time he fully awoke, it was already evening again, his room dark and foreboding, reminding him of his fears. Alexander's sire was arriving tomorrow evening.

He had to talk to his master. He had to know what to do, how to behave, to avoid being harmed. But when Oliver emerged from his room, flickering gas lamp in hand, his master was nowhere to be found. Oliver checked every corner of the library, the music room, the parlor, a dozen disorienting spare rooms filled with more books and storage crates and bits of random furniture. Either Alexander had left the manor or he was still confined to his room.

Even Oliver's need wasn't enough to overcome his fear of knocking on the door. One of the few rules of the manor was that Alexander's room was off-limits without permission, and the last thing he wanted was for his master to be angry at him when he so desperately needed his protection. All he could really do was wait, and worry, and take a long hot bath in the hopes that it would ease his worries, and inevitably end up worrying in the hot bath.

If only he didn't have to worry about any of this! If only he could simply be Alexander's thrall, spending his days in the library and providing his master with blood. He was meant to be loyal to Alexander, the perfect thrall, wasn't he? When he closed his eyes and imagined, he could almost hear the song calling to him.

His master needed his help, and Oliver wanted so badly to be helpful.

He toweled off from the shower, making sure to apply lotion to his face and neck, just as they'd done in the auction house. Back in his bedroom, he rifled through the wardrobe to look for something suitable, finally settling on a tasteful red frock. After all, if he couldn't solve his master's problems, he could at least try to cheer him up.

Suitably dressed, he had emerged from his bedroom and was gathering up the courage to go knock on Alexander's bedroom door when he heard a commotion in the foyer and rushed to see.

"Ugh, just drag me to the library and leave me to die," said Alexander, precariously wrapped around Miss Lily, who was dragging him into the manor with a long-suffering look on her face.

"I'll take you to the library, but I'm not going to leave you until you've done what you need to do," she said.

"Screw that. Screw all of it. Screw my goddamn sire and his goddamn rules. Sick and tired of him touching my thralls." It was obvious now that his master was drunk, as he grasped onto Miss Lily for dear life. "He was touching Oliver, my Oliver. He's gonna drink from my Oliver. Put his goddamn fangs in my thrall!"

Oliver's heart clenched at the way his master was talking about him. It was strange, to be wanted, to be possessed, but not at all unwelcome. It gave a strange sort of pleasure to Oliver that his master didn't want anyone else to drink from him.

"Welcome home, sir," said Oliver, emerging into the foyer, doing his best to look like a proper thrall. "Is there... um. Is there anything I can help with...?"

"Oh, now, isn't that just precious," Miss Lily cooed, while Alexander looked as though he were about to pass out.

"Look at him, Lily," he said with a tone of pleading. "He's so loyal, so goddamned perfect. I don't want to hurt him. How can I..."

Oliver's eyes widened. "How can you what, sir?"

"Don't you worry about it, dear," Miss Lily cooed at him, and Oliver could feel his mind soften. "Don't you worry about a thing. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the library? Your master will be joining you shortly after I give him a little pep talk."

"Yes, sir," he said. The calm he had managed to carve out for himself had evaporated. What was his master going to do? Was he simply referring to allowing his sire to feed on Oliver? He fussed with his dress -- a garment he still wasn't at all used to -- as he settled onto a couch and waited.

Perhaps ten minutes passed before Miss Lily arrived, carrying an old white tin. She was followed by Alexander, who looked forlorn as he sat down next to Oliver on the couch. Oliver could smell the alcohol on him, and his master wobbled slightly as he regarded Oliver.

"Can't you do it?" he said to Miss Lily in a tone that was nearly a whine.

"You know you have to be the one to do it."

"He won't know."

"He will and you know it."

"I helped you with Miriam."

"And I'll help you with Oliver, but you still need to be the one to do it."

"Do what, sirs?" said Oliver with growing fear. "What are you going to do?"

"You trust your master, don't you?" Miss Lily had settled in on the other side of him, and brushed back his hair to speak in his ear. "You want to be a good and obedient thrall for him, don't you, dear?"

"I trust my master," said Oliver automatically, Miss Lily's voice and her choice of words sinking him into a helpless daze. "I want to be obedient..."

His master leaned over and began to hum in his other ear, a song which washed over his mind and soothed away his fears. "You're my loyal and obedient thrall, aren't you? And you trust me."

"Yes, Master. Completely loyal and obedient."

"You love being obedient," Miss Lily coaxed. "Obedience is pleasure. You wish to serve."

With Miss Lily's voice and Alexander's song hypnotizing him so thoroughly, he almost felt like he was back in the soft leather chair in the auction house, his sleeping mind open and pliable and oh so very obedient. "I wish to serve," he said. "I -- I just want to help you, Master. I want to be your loyal and obedient thrall."

Alexander's hum was pleased, making Oliver feel so relaxed and so good. "And so you are, Oliver. You're just perfect. I couldn't be more delighted with you."

"Thank you, Master," said Oliver, floating in the bliss of praise.

"You're just so... you're too perfect. That's why I can't bear the thought of my sire drinking from you." His master was leaning his head on Oliver's shoulder.

"I understand, sir. My blood should only be for you."

"Only for me, yes, that's right," said Alexander fiercely. "Only for me."

"But you must obey Alexander's sire as well," said Miss Lily in his other ear. A tone of warning, but Oliver wasn't sure it was for him.

"...Yes," said Alexander after a long hesitation. "You must obey him, and allow him to drink your blood, even if... Just for now, Oliver, just for now. You can do that for me, can't you? You can obey him, because you are loyal to me."

"Yes, sir, I can obey."

"Obedience is pleasure," whispered Miss Lily. "You only desire to serve."

"I only desire to serve, sir."

"Lex, you need to --"

"I know," said Alexander, and his song changed subtly. Instead of inducing obedience, Oliver felt his mind being shifted, further entranced, his thoughts becoming foggy and far away. It was like falling asleep with his eyes wide open. "You're safe, Oliver. You're safe with me."

"Safe... Master..." he slurred, his head growing heavy and coming to rest on his master's shoulder.

Alexander was rubbing his back gently. "I need to do something now. It's important, and unavoidable. You are going to lose awareness as it happens, and when you wake, you will feel no pain."

"What..." He wanted to ask, but his mind was slipping under the waves of his master's song, the song that was now urging him into sleep.

"Shut your eyes, Oliver," said Miss Lily. "Become unaware of everything around you except for our voices. You won't feel a thing."

"Nothing but our voices and a deep, dreamless sleep," said Alexander. "Rest, now, Oliver. You're so obedient, so loyal, so good. You can rest. You can be still, so very still, as you sink into a place where you will feel no pain."

Oliver's vision blurred as his eyes began to close, leaning back against the couch as his master ran his hand through his hair. He was surrounded by song - obey, relax, go to sleep, feel no pain - and everything else was fading away until he was floating, floating in the deepest abyss of the ocean, where there was nothing but darkness and the rush of cool water and his Master's beautiful siren song.

He could obey. He could give himself over to his Master, body, mind, and soul. It was the easiest thing in the world.

Oliver wasn't sure how long he floated there in contented bliss. Time had lost all meaning, all of his senses dulled and drowsy. Finally, as if a hand was reaching down from the surface of the water, his Master spoke once more. "You can wake now, Oliver. You'll feel no pain and no distress as you wake."

His eyes opened, and he was back in the library, still feeling strangely disconnected from his body. His Master looked grim, but surely it wasn't because of him. He was a good thrall, and he had obeyed.

His shoulders felt cool, and it took him a moment to realize that his dress was gone, neatly folded up and sitting on a nearby table. His chest was bared, and there was a bandage just below his collarbone. His head fogged again, and he felt numb, almost as if he weren't allowed to perceive all of this.

"Don't worry about that, Oliver," said Alexander, grasping his chin and drawing his gaze up. "You were just perfect."

"Thank you, sir."

Alexander collapsed onto the couch beside him, as though he'd been through some great ordeal. "There, Lily, it's done. Now can you leave me to die a second time?"

Oliver couldn't help but reach out to him. "Sir, if there's anything I can do... any way I can serve you..."

"You've done everything you were supposed to do," said Miss Lily. "And no one's leaving you to die, Lex. You need to sleep it off. Oliver, you can put him to bed, can't you, dear?"

"Put him to bed, sir?"

"Yes, as you do each night, no doubt."

Oliver looked at Miss Lily, alarmed. "I'm -- I'm not allowed in the bedroom without permission, sir --"

Miss Lily raised an eyebrow. "Really, Lex?"

"I don't need a thrall warming my bed. Hot water bottles and steam heat suffice," said Alexander with a groan. "And I didn't want to get attached."

"...And how is that working out for you?"

Alexander groaned again. "My head is killing me, Lil, spare me the lecture."

"You're hopeless, you know that?" said Miss Lily. "Come on, Oliver. I'll hoist him up and you accompany me. Your master needs your help."

"Of course, sir, right away."

Miss Lily picked up Alexander as though it were nothing, carrying him up the stairs and into the bedroom with Oliver following at her heels. She expertly navigated the cluttered floor in the dark, freezing cold room even as Oliver tripped over discarded laundry. She pulled his shoes off and tossed them aside, pushing Alexander onto the bed and draping the messy covers over him, as he curled up like a sleeping child.

"Go on now, Oliver."

"Me, sir? What should I do?"

"Vampires are cold all the time, in case you haven't noticed. He needs to sleep, and your warmth will help him rest."

Oliver's throat tightened with the thought of crawling into his master's bed, and he couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation. He looked to Alexander for confirmation of what Miss Lily had said. "Sir... you want me to..."

"God damn it, Lily," he swore. "Just for tonight, yes." A low hum emanated from the mound at the center of the bed, one which drew Oliver near. He felt himself stepping forward, climbing onto the bed, and in a flash, he was sucked under the covers and surrounded by the strong arms of a cold vampire. "You're so warm. It's been ages since I've had a thrall in my bed." He yawned into Oliver's ear as his arms tightened.

"I knew that'd help," said Lily smugly. "Well, I'll be taking my leave. Good luck with our sire." She walked out, shutting the door.

Oliver, meanwhile, stared out into the gloom, his heart thumping. The bed was soft and smelled of floral soap and winter winds, and his master was gripping him so tightly it was almost uncomfortable. "Will this help you sleep, sir?"

"Hmph?"

"Um, will this help you sleep, sir?"

His deep voice was groggy, sounding half-asleep already. "'m never warm. Hard to stay awake when it's so warm." He sighed. "You're a good thrall. I hope you know that."

"Thank you, sir," he said, feeling warm himself from the praise.

"Almost the best thrall."

"...Almost, sir?"

"You should go to sleep, too."

"I can try, sir."

His master's voice hummed a sweet lullaby into his ear, and Oliver was immediately hypnotized once more. The fact that his master sounded so drowsy as he sang only made Oliver succumb to its spell faster. He was so tired, so sleepy, and his master was pleased with him too, inviting him to rest...

He was helping his master, finally. It was so nice to be here.

"You're mine, Oliver," said the voice in his ear. "My thrall, my perfect thrall."

"Yours, sir," Oliver agreed as he drifted off.

Prev > Masterlist

Next time, Alexander takes matters into his own hands.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump

#...I'M FUCKING AGGRESSIVE OVER THIS SHIT!!!! FUCK!!!! GODDAMNIT LEX!!! YOU DRAMA QUEEN!!! STOP BEING SO CUTE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!!#I FUCKIN-- A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A AA A A A A A A A A A A A. A A A A A A A A A A. A A AA. AA. A A A A A AA A A A A. A AA. A #FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS GOOD THIS IS AMAZING THIS IS IMMACULATE!!!!!#THE PARALLELS AT THE END BETWEEN OLIVER AND FITZ!!!! THE FUCKING PARALLELS!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!! ITS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!!!!!#DRUNK LEX IS SO CUTE AND ENDEARING IN A SUBTLY CREEPY WAY BUT I FUCKINV LOVE IT AND I LOVE HIM AND-- FUCK!!!!!! CUTE FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN!!!!#I CAN SEE LEX DRAMATICALLY DRAPED OVER THE COUCH WITH AN ARM OVER HIS EYES JUST LIKE 'Just leave me to die alone in this cruel world already #HDBSJSISBSJSBNSKSBSN FUCK THIS IS GOOD!!!! AH!!!!!!#good soup #delicious soup #immaculate soup #ultimate soup #bloody soup #ALSO NO DONT HURT MY BOI!!! DONT BRAND THE HIM D:!!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!!! (/j)

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writinggremlin · 2 days

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It is increasingly obvious that most people have no idea how to indicate an illness is slowly killing someone without making them cough up blood. Doesn’t matter what it is or if it has anything to do with your respiratory system, if you’re dying, you’re coughing up blood.

#for latersies

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writinggremlin · 2 days

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When your own OC becomes your blorbo it is both glorious and torturous

#as somebody who's hyperfixation/special interest is their own ocs... .......y e a h........#best thing is that I can go brrrrr whenever I want in whatever way I wish to. I have complete freedom to brrrrrr.#I wont even seem too weird lowkey cosplaying them on an average tuesday- because my guys are mostly just normal guys.#and nobody knows who they are so they're nowhere near iconic enough to be recognizable. the other week I wore an outfit that felt like #something ember would wear. so I leaned into it. so much so that I started kinda acting like her a little bit. in my defense #how could you not act eligant when dressed up in a way that feels eligant? but the best part is that nobody else knew.#but on the other hand... Nobody else knows. They don't know about them. You probably don't know who Ember is. You probably don't know that #she likes to hold herself like royalty. how she is intimidating and determined yet still respectful. how she radiates confidence and power.#you probably didn't know anything. you probably know close to nothing about any of my characters or the world in my head. and it sucks.#because that can make sharing this world and these characters difficult. where do I even begin with them? some stories I've written but cant #share. because you need context to make it work. context that can't even to explain. context of patterns that you get used to over time that #are just now being broken. it doesn't work. you need to know them to get it. but just beginning to share is difficult. it's scary too.#I am so attached to my characters and all of their stories. sharing that is scary because a judgement on that feels like a judgment on me.#I know that's illogical. anxiety doesn't care. I'm putting myself out there. that's risky. that's scary. and its a barrier that prevents me #from sharing anything at all. and that makes it hard. because now I'm going hella brrr over a character or scenario and I have nobody who #can go brrrr with me. no way to release this pent up excitement. and so it builds. and builds. expanding more and more. filling every inch #and fibre of my very being until it hurts.#anygay. sorry. guess I had a lot to dump lmao. I'll get to the point where I can finally share The Story(tm) someday. hopefully. maybe.#thanks for reading if you've read all of this. have a lovely day/night/life! stay safe!

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writinggremlin · 2 days

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I’m gonna sound like a psychopath but like.

Whumpees being thrown to the ground

Whumpees being punched in the face

Whumpees being slammed against the wall (bonus points if it’s by the throat)

Whumpees getting kicked when they’re down (especially in the gut, I will ugly cry)

Whumpees breathing heavily while trying to recover

Whumpees bleeding out and getting lightheaded

Whumpees getting sick and slowly wasting away

Whumpees trying not to react to pain (bonus pts if it’s to stay strong for their friends/family)

Whumpees passing out either from injury or sheer exhaustion

Whumpees giving up completely and welcoming death

Whumpees that never give up, ever, no matter what

Whumpees who can’t sleep even when they know they’re safe

Whumpees that fall asleep beside caretaker immediately upon escaping danger

#oh yeah. that's the good shit.#good soup #also op. you don't sound insane here. you're talking about whump in the whump community I promise we love this shit.#we are constantly eating it up. you're all good. and these ideas are all good gimme the good soup. I will yoink an cook with it just you see #*wait anc see. ran out of words lmao. but ye. fuck yeah you ball. you win.#I need to sleep. gn.

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writinggremlin · 2 days

Note

⪩ ⪨ put the cat ears on, Oliver, put them on. We can get some for Alexander too

Oliver seems confused as he puts the cat ears on. He's not sure what purpose this serves.

#the purpose this serves is to entertain me and make me want to shittily draw this now. even tho I dont have the skills to do so.#*slowly looks over to fitz- cat ears in hand*

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writinggremlin · 3 days

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How to show emotions

Part IV

How to show bitterness

tightness around their eyes

pinched mouth

sour expression on their face

crossed arms

snorting angrily

turning their eyes upward

shaking their head

How to show hysteria

fast breathing

chest heaving

trembling of their hands

weak knees, giving in

tears flowing down their face uncontrollably

laughing while crying

not being able to stand still

How to show awe

tension leaving their body

shoulders dropping

standing still

opening mouth

slack jaw

not being able to speak correctly

slowed down breathing

wide eyes open

softening their gaze

staring unabashingly

How to show shame

vacant stare

looking down

turning their head away

cannot look at another person

putting their head into their hands

shaking their head

How to show being flustered

blushing

looking down

nervous smile

sharp intake of breath

quickening of breath

blinking rapidly

breaking eye contact

trying to busy their hands

playing with their hair

fidgeting with their fingers

opening mouth without speaking

Part I + Part II + Part III

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#for latersies

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writinggremlin · 3 days

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whumpee waking up in a hospital bed, disoriented. at first they think whumper has just moved them somewhere, chained them up in a new room, pumping new drugs into their system. but as they slowly awaken, and nurses come into the room to check on them, they finally realize where they are.

are they relieved to be free? to have painkillers softening the aches of the torture whumper inflicted on them?

or does it feel uncomfortable after they spent so long hidden away, locked up by whumper? do they almost miss the familiar sting of infected, unbandaged wounds?

do they feel like they don't deserve to be free?

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writinggremlin · 3 days

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Perfect

masterlist

fitz and the maestro belong to @oliversrarebooks <3

content: lady whumper, whumpee turned whumper, conditioned whumpee, vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, gore, blood, no holds barred beatdown, multiple whumpers, broken bones

It was ironic, the way Riana felt more alive now that she was dead than she had ever felt before. Certainly more than any day of her boring, ordinary life before the Maestro, but maybe, blasphemously, it even crossed her mind that she was better off now as a vampire than as a stupid, imperfect, starved, beaten thrall.

She shouldn’t think that. Every day spent with the Maestro was a blessing and a gift. She’d just been given… a greater gift now.

The transformation had been absolutely agonising, and it left Riana writhing on the ground like the useless, insignificant little worm she used to be. But now? Now that she had sucked the life out of some poor idiot that Maestro had graciously provided for her? Now she felt downright giddy.

She wasn’t meant to think — at least, she hadn’t been before, as a thrall. It was difficult to suppress the panic she still felt at the way thoughts rushed through her head, to not immediately push them down without hesitation. There were so many thoughts. What should she do first? Should she go and kidnap a human? Should she enthrall one? How should she test her new powers? How fast could she run to the city and kill a person?

Oh, that was a bad thought.

But she’d already killed one, hadn’t she? What did it matter? The Maestro took and gave life as he pleased, so really—

No, she definitely shouldn’t put herself on the same level as the Maestro. In the end, her conditioning won, and after wiping her mouth clean of blood, she looked up at her master with a clear question in her eyes. What now?

“I have quite a special task for you, child,” the Maestro said smoothly, and Riana perked up like an excited dog. A special task for her? Just for her?

“Yes, sir. Anything, sir.”

Whatever the Maestro saw in her eyes must’ve been really pleasing, because he smiled, he actually smiled, then placed a hand on her head to soothe her. “Patience. I will tell you about it when it is time for you to know more. But rest assured, I didn’t create a new vampire for nothing.”

Her special task came along just one week later, in the form of one of her master’s ridiculously incompetent spawn’s lover, Fitzwilliam de Hastings. It wasn’t even a task so much as it was a test; a test of whether Riana would join the ranks of his disobedient spawns or not.

Riana hoped the Maestro didn’t seriously think she would ever go against his wishes.

Or that conscience was anywhere on her list of priorities.

No, Riana wanted to test her limits just as much as her master. She wanted to see what this new un-life held for her, to see what sort of monster she’s been turned into. Not seeing herself in the mirror and giving up the sun were just the downsides of this new state, but she knew, she knew the benefits would far outweigh those — and she was eager to finally see what those benefits were.

“No!” the idiot screamed as he was dragged into the manor, and Riana was already eager to tear out that disobedient tongue of his. How dare he make such a scene when the Maestro clearly wanted to see him? He should’ve been grateful. He should’ve come of his own volition, walked right in through the front door and dutifully curtsied. “Not again! Stop! I can’t do it again!”

The Maestro clamped a hand over his mouth, and Fitz actually bit him. Riana acted faster than she thought, rushing over and grabbing him by the hair to yank him away from her beloved master. “How dare you?” she snapped, turning and banging Fitz’s head against the wall of the hallway.

He must’ve thought Riana was just another victim, because he barely protested throughout it all. Riana managed to bash his head against the wall several times before he choked out his first objection, which was barely an objection at all, more of a pitiful whimper.

Before long, Fitz was lying on the floor at Riana’s feet, unconscious and finally, blissfully quiet.

Riana looked up at her master, only just now realising she’d acted without orders. But the Maestro could’ve stopped her at any moment… and he didn’t. Was she allowed to do things on her own now? Was she of higher standing than a lowly thrall? “I apologise, sir,” she said anyway, just to be sure.

There it was again, that ghost of a smile. Something reassuring. Something approving. “Grab the boy and follow me.”

Riana found it more than exciting to be able to lift a full-grown man like a sack of potatoes. Her hands were still tingling with the aftershocks of having knocked someone unconscious like that, and her teeth were aching to be sunk into such a disgusting little parasite’s flesh — both literally and metaphorically.

Once it became clear that they were headed towards the dingy basement Riana had spent too much of her time in, she lost some of her enthusiasm. She tried to tell herself that this time it wasn’t her being punished, but her body reacted to the familiar scent and scenery all the same. Still, she stayed quiet and made sure to follow the Maestro closely.

“I have sired two powerful, yet painfully idealistic vampires,” he said suddenly, and Riana’s attention snapped back to him in an instant. He came to a halt soon after, turning to her with an expectant look on his face. “Tonight is the night I find out whether you’ll be the third.”

Fitz was just beginning to regain consciousness, but Riana was much too focused on the Maestro to care. This was her big night. Her debut as a vampire. This was the night she finally proved to the Maestro that she could be more than just a puppet, that she could be what Alexander and Lily weren’t, that she could aid him in whatever way he needed, whenever he needed.

She felt that same electric excitement as the first time she’d played for him on the piano. His methods for teaching might have been brutal, but there was hundreds of years of expertise behind them, a refinement no human would have been able to give her. Their spirits were aligned then, and they were aligned now. She knew what he expected before he said it, and she wanted the very same thing.

She wanted to spill blood.

“Where… What—” Fitz was starting to squirm in her hold, and Riana wasted no time throwing him on the floor and grabbing a length of rope. “No— No, no, wait, wait! He’s controlling you, isn’t he? You have to fight it—”

“Silence,” she said with enough authority in her voice to really shock him into being quiet, if only for a moment. It was enough for her to loop the rope around his wrists and pull it tight before he really regained control of his body.

“What’s going on? Why are you with him? Who are you even?” He tried to kick her and she grabbed him by the ankle, squeezing until she felt the bone shatter under her fingers. The scream he let out was invigorating.

Was she really allowed to do as she pleased? She turned around for a moment while Fitz was sobbing, looking for the Maestro’s approval like a child. The amused look on his face was enough to light an even bigger fire inside her.

She was being allowed free reign. She could do whatever she wanted with him.

Riana turned back towards her victim and stomped on his broken ankle, wringing another cry from him. She ground her heel into the bone, making sure to squeeze every last drop of suffering from it that she could, and Fitz’s look of absolute agony was proof it was paying off.

“Don’t do this—” he tried again, and Riana backhanded him across the face just as she’d been backhanded hundreds of times before. She wasn’t a weak damsel in distress anymore. She was so much more now.

She grabbed Fitz by the shirt collar and pulled him close, relishing the tears she saw pouring down his face. “I’m not being controlled,” she said calmly, before the full weight of that statement hit her. She wasn’t being controlled. The Maestro trusted her. “I’m not being controlled,” she repeated, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

Fitz’s eyes widened in terror, and Riana wanted to have that expression framed and hung on the wall of her bedroom. It was beautiful, and it was all her, he was terrified because of her, because she could do whatever she wanted to him.

“Why are you doing this?” he stammered, his teary eyes darting between her and the Maestro. “Why? Why, if he’s not making you?”

“Because I can. I can! I’m stronger, I’m faster, I can do whatever I want!” She slapped him again, drinking in the sight of his head snapping from one side to the other with the force of it. She slapped him again, and again, and again, and it was so easy, and so satisfying, and the way the red imprint of her hand appeared on his pale cheeks was just gorgeous.

“Stop!” he cried, and she grabbed him by the throat with both hands, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Shut up,” she hissed. “You keep talking, and I don’t care. I don’t care about your little excuses. You’re not on a stage, Fitz. Nobody cares.”

Riana let go and kicked him in the chest, sending him rolling across the basement floor and crashing into the wall. She grabbed another length of rope from the shelves and walked over to him, this time wrapping it around his throat. As a vampire, he didn’t need to breathe. He didn’t need to waste the precious air in the manor just to put on a show. All he needed to do was stay nice and still for her, and for that, he was perfectly fine to stay quiet.

She pulled the rope taut and listened to the sounds of Fitz choking, thinking she would’ve been so much more graceful in handling something like this. It was really a shame that not all vampires could be trained specifically by the Maestro — or that not all of them succeeded in taking it all in.

“You’re so useless,” she spat, tugging on the rope again, making sure it chafed. “I don’t know what Alexander sees in you, or what you see in him, but you two are quite the perfect match.”

She tied the rope to the one between his wrists, then pushed turned him over from his stomach to his back, staring into those big, dumb, doe eyes of his until she figured out what she wanted to do next. Her tortured mind supplied her with things that were familiar, like the riding crop; graceful methods of inflicting precise pain.

She didn’t want that. She wouldn’t be able to do that. There was a thirst in her that needed to be quenched immediately and violently, and in the end she just dropped to her knees, still straddling Fitz, and started punching him.

It had been so long since she was allowed to let loose. So long since she’d been able to let off steam, or show any sort of anger at all. All those pent-up emotions were now bubbling to the surface, manifesting in one, two, three punches, four, five, six, seven—

Before long, Fitz’s face was a bloody, broken mess. Aw, was that the face Alexander loved so much? Riana had to laugh at the thought, and for the first time in forever, she didn’t try to suppress it. She was cackling like a maniac, and nobody was stopping her or hitting her for it.

Was this what freedom felt like? Was freedom bright red blood smeared across a mostly innocent man’s face and smeared across her knuckles? Was it the way his eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness again? Or was it the way she shook him back into the world, slapped him until his swollen eyes focused on him again, only to lean down and rip into his throat?

Her jaw closed on his trachea way too easily, pointed teeth sinking into the flesh like a knife in butter. She pulled back and watched as the blood spurted from the wound like a sick fountain, painting the basement red.

It was beautiful.

It was perfect.

tags: @whumpsday @softvampirewhump

#i uh-- woah. oh my. oh that's-- that's g o o d. riana's excessive holy shit. fucking terrifing in the best way possible.#i think I would already just be accepting my death as soon as she's within my presence. she just enters the room and #I'd just be like 'welp. guess I'll die.'#also-- I think if I had filmed my reaction you would've found it entertaining. I didn't know my voice could go that high #while also being that quiet. I became a squeaky lil mouse for this shit that's how good it is.#loved it. immaculate. excellent.#good soup #epic soup #delicious soup #ultimate soup #bloody soup

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