#amputation whump | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

a rather specific prompt for you :)

whumpee is/ was trained and used a a guard dog. during their time with their master they sustained an injury that causes them to not be able to fulfill their job properly anymore. still wounded, they get thrown out, chained in some allay. whumpee expects to die alone and cold, when caretaker comes along and accidentally stumbles across the abandoned whumpee. they (caretaker) think whumpee is just a regular pet and don’t realize they have a still dangerous guard dog at their feet and decide to rescue them and help them recover. whumpee has never experienced anything like this kindness, especially after becoming so useless, so (after having lost their old master) they immediately bond to caretaker as their new master, and would do anything to protect and please them

tw pet whump, amputation, abandonment, past trauma, broken bones, medical setting, caretaker new master, murder, gore, dehumanisation

"Oh, dear..." Caretaker crouched down by the shivering figure, putting the back of their hand against their forehead. They looked... half-dead, honestly, so the feverish warmth eminating from them was almost a relief. "Who did this to you...?"

The poor thing whined, and they reminded Caretaker of a wounded dog; but maybe that was just from how they were chained up. This was all so horrible.

"Okay, don't be scared. I'm gonna get you out of the alley and to a vet, alright? We'll get you all fixed up."

Another whine, and Caretaker suddenly realised there were other issues apart from the visible sickness. The pet's ankle... it was twisted in a way they'd never seen before. It was swollen, a mix of deep red and purple, bent in a way no healthy foot was supposed to.

"Oh... Oh, this is way worse than I thought, isn't it?" They immediately regretted the comment when the thing looked up at them with those wide, fearful eyes, probably expecting them to just give up now and leave them. "That's okay!" they added hastily. "It's okay. Nothing that can't be fixed! I... I hope... I'll call someone for help."

So they'd been wrong. Some things were in fact beyond saving, and Whumpee's foot turned out to be one of them. Amputation, prosthetics... Whumpee was handling it badly.

"I know," Caretaker soothed. "I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it'll be better later on, I promise, the doctors know what they're doing."

Whumpee let out a soft whimper, a scared one, and Caretaker thought their heart was going to shatter even further. The pet hadn't uttered a single word yet, — maybe they couldn't? — but their face was expressive enough to make Caretaker tear up.

"I'll be here," they said gently. "Every step of the way, yeah? I'll be here for you. I'll help. We'll figure it out."

How? Caretaker didn't know. They weren't planning on adopting a pet, but... they couldn't just leave Whumpee alone after all this. They had an obligation, a responsibility.

If anything, Whumpee's awe-filled eyes just made them more determined.

"One foot in front of the other. Slowly. There you go."

Physical therapy was a lot, but Whumpee seemed dead set on achieving every goal weeks earlier than planned. The staff had said it would take four to eight weeks for Whumpee to be able to walk again... and many more before they fully got used to their artificial foot. They were out and about within two weeks, much to the dismay of said staff.

"They'll hurt themself," they'd said. "They should be resting."

"They're very eager to come home, I guess," Caretaker had replied awkwardly, but Whumpee had nodded along, completely serious.

So now they were walking along the corridors, Caretaker supporting Whumpee's weight less and less as they learned the ways and limits of their new life.

"I know it's not super fancy..." Caretaker opened the door and stood aside, motioning Whumpee inside. "But I guess it's... homey."

The pet surveyed their surroundings curiously, then turned back towards Caretaker with a bright smile. If they'd had a tail, Caretaker wagered they would've been wagging it.

It made them smile, too. "You like it?"

Whumpee nodded enthusiastically, walking over to the new pet bed Caretaker had bought just a week prior. They carefully set their belongings down next to it, — a shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of socks, and a collar — then made themself comfortable. Testing it out.

"I think we'll get along nicely," Caretaker commented absently. "I mean, I like you a lot. And you seem to like me. I don't see how this could go wrong."

Caretaker couldn't believe their eyes.

This couldn't be real.

Was that blood? Was that blood on Whumpee's clothes, and hands, and... face?

When the pet spotted them they immediately fell to their knees, whimpering in terror. They tried to wipe their hands on their victim's shirt, to no avail.

"Whumpee, what– what's– what's going on...?"

Whumpee was crying now, getting more and more desperate about ridding themself of the blood, as though that was the only evidence as to what they'd done. As though they could erase it all, if only they managed to erase the stains.

Caretaker walked closer, eyes wide with shock and horror. So much blood. So much gore.

Their sweet pet had done this?

"Why...?"

Whumpee scrambled to pick up some sort of equipment, struggling to hold it between bloody fingers. A lockpick, Caretaker noted distantly. They put it down on the floor in front of their feet, then quickly grabbed something else: a knife, this time. They put it next to the lockpick. Then they crawled back, flattening themself against the floor like a dog who knew it'd done something bad, whining as they waited for the verdict.

The stranger had been a burglar. Was it... self-defence? No, this had been a brutal murder.

"You're– you're a guard dog," Caretaker said softly, because they didn't think their voice could handle anything more. They got but a whimper in response. "This... Oh, dear. This is not... This is not good."

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty

#whump #whump drabble #pet whump #abandonment #past trauma #broken bones #medical setting #caretaker new master #murder #gore #dehumanisation #asks #recovery fic #amputation whump

204 notes · View notes

sapphicccici · 16 days

Text

I drew Detali losing her arm because I'm a slut for amputation whump. Enjoy

(if literally one person likes this I'll write about how she lost it)

#whump #whump community #oc #oc whump #whumpblr #original character #female whumpee #amputation whump #Detali Gamble

28 notes · View notes

whumpcloud · 1 year

Text

faerie whumpee where whumper always threatened to cut off their wings but instead damaged them so badly that whumpee begs caretaker to cut them off to stop the constant pain

#polly's postings #whump #fairy whumpee #amputation whump #i guess?

124 notes · View notes

whumpbees · 9 months

Text

Taking a whumpees mobility to make them dependent on whumper <3

#honey posts #whump #whump prompt #whumpee #amputation whump

60 notes · View notes

kabie-whump · 3 months

Text

Badly Summarized WIP Poll!

Thank you @whumperofworlds for the tag this is my first time getting tagged in something like this teehee

Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they’d be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.

Tagging ummmmmmmm @sapphicccici and @morning-star-whump (no pressure ofc)

19 notes · View notes

abhainnwhump · 22 days

Text

IMYM Chapter 27:

I Can Fix Him: Ribbon

(Content warnings: Amputation, non-consensual body modification, torture, non-consensual drug use, forced addiction, implied branding, waterboarding (?)

<- Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ->

Ribbon stretched and yawned, flipping through the wedding dress catalog on his vanity. He drew hearts on the ones he liked with a pink gel pen. He loved the ones with the super long trains and lace sleeves. He knew no matter what, Nightmare was going to pick what he wanted him to wear. But it was fun to see all the pretty options, and Nightmare wanted a little input from Ribbon. It was his wedding too and he wanted him happy.

Mrrow?

Ribbon looked up as he heard the strange noise. Ribbon looked up from his vanity. The sound came from the window in the room. He got up and cautiously walked up to it, was it one of Killer’s pranks again? He liked cats and it seemed like something he would do. Ribbon opened the pink lace curtains and looked outside. He took a double take. Outside was a white cat with thick fluffy fur and big black eyes hanging from blue strings. Ribbon tilted his head and pressed his hands against the glass. As soon as he did, the cat moved and landed on a nearby ledge. He waved his paw and Ribbon tapped his finger against the window. Ribbon narrowed his eyes and the cat lifted in the air, jumping from ledges and running to the garden.

“Wait, come here! What are you?” Ribbon pulled his neck charm, grabbed his parasol, and ran out of his room. He made his way through the castle and into the gardens. He spotted the cat rolling on the ground in a field of tulips. with the strings still attached. He looked around in case anyone would try to attack him. But he knew couldn’t happen because of Nightmare’s magic. Still . . . he felt like he was being watched. The sharp end of his parasol glinted in the light.

Before he knew it, something wrapped around his waist, wrists, and legs. His parasol almost fell out of his hand. More blue strings. Wait, like the strings of-

Ribbon couldn’t finish that thought as he was flung backward and through a portal. Going faster, the doll screamed until he came to a sudden halt. He hung from his wrists. His breathing raced as he looked down. He was at least fifty feet in the air of a . . . oh stars, not more white! He hasn’t been in the Anti-void in forever. How did he remember the name? Ribbon kicked and tried to curl up into a ball, terrified of falling. Would he shatter? His porcelain body was strong, but he didn’t know if it could handle fall damage. He looked around at the blue strings, souls, and puppets around him.

“Gotcha. You can thank me later, Ink.” Error said. He sat on a blue string swing and lowered Ribbon to his level. His fingers were so tight around it that it looked like they would break. Ribbon couldn’t tell if he was angry, happy, or both. Was he angry at him? His grin and glitching eye sockets made Ribbon squirm and cower. Error stared at the cat and threw it through a portal. “Underfell was actually useful for once. I stole Fell’s cat, Doomfanger. Now to the point.” He threw the cat through the portal and brought Ribbon closer. He looked him directly in the eyes. “Look, I’m not standing by and watching as Nightmare breaks everything out of you and by extension, me. I’m going to end this right now. If you fight against me, I’ll hang you. No, scratch that. I’ll hang Nightmare first, then you’re next. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

“Yes, sir!” Ribbon nodded quickly. He noticed Error’s distaste for the word. “I mean, yes Error!” There, that made him happy. Error lowered both of them to the ground and Ribbon took a breath of relief. Error picked up something from behind his bean bag and threw it at Ribbon. Something brown covered his face and he shook it off to see what it was. It was an outfit. A white shirt with a brown shoulder jacket, heavy brown pants, and a brown scarf. They all had very noticeable blue stitches. The outfit looked familiar and Ribbon had to think. Then he remembered it was his old uniform, back before Nightmare fixed him.

“Put that on and then we can get going. I made it for you.” Error said. He turned around so he didn’t watch Ribbon change. Knowing he had no choice here, Ribbon took his dress, beret, and stockings off. He put on the outfit Error gave him instead. It wasn’t as comfy as his dresses and it felt too tight and too big at the same time.

“I’m done . . .” Ribbon whispered when he finished. He rubbed his hands together, looking around in the hope Nightmare would save him. He looked at Error’s multicolored eye lights and had no will to protest.

Error relaxed a bit when he put the outfit on. “There, now you look normal. Almost, it doesn’t fix your proportions. Can you change your eye lights to something that isn’t those creepy pink hearts? Why haven’t they changed at all since I brought you here?”

“I can’t, Nightmare fixed my eyes and gave me pretty mechanical ones! They’re always this pink!” Ribbon blinked his mechanical eyes. He knew they were lilac, but pink was close enough. The white pupils made Error grimace.

“. . . I don’t want to know.” Error sighed. He created a portal out of glitches and dropped them both through.

They fell into the Doodlesphere. Ribbon hasn’t been in the endless yellow void for so long that it felt like new territory. Some of the islands were pitch black from their corruption. Part of him wanted to do something about it, but the louder part was pleased. Nightmare’s plan was working! Error lowered himself with more carefulness than he did with Ribbon. His glitches increased as he got to the ground.

“What do you think of this? I destroyed twenty-eight AUs so far because of the mayhem you and Nightmare pulled. I know you don’t care, but it’s ruining the monsters and the code.” He looked at Ribbon for a response. Ribbon didn’t move a muscle. Error’s mouth held slightly agape. “Seriously? This is your life’s work and you feel nothing?”

“No . . .” Ribbon knew he shouldn’t, but he thought harder. Yeah, he should help here . . . but he also didn’t want to. Nightmare wouldn’t like that. Ribbon pulled at the scarf on his neck. He didn’t like how big this outfit was. He was so used to dresses that not wearing a skirt felt wrong.

Error facepalmed and groaned. He made a hand out of string and smacked Ribbon’s hand away from his scarf. “Don’t take that off. I can’t believe I’m going to try and fix something.” He opened a giant rectangle box beside Ribbon. His eyes went wide at all the white code moving. It was so pretty! Error looked bored. His fingers flashed across the screen, moving stuff around and deleting it. Ribbon’s body jolted each time it did. It reminded him of the shock collar. Was this Error’s way of punishment?

“Huh . . . why isn’t any of your Guardian of Creativity code in here? Almost all of your code is broken, like you.”

Ribbon thought about it. He tried to pretend breaking that sphere didn’t happen, but it was a hard thing to forget. “Um, I don’t know. A few months ago, I was on a mission with Dust, Killer, and Horror, and I wandered into this strange place. There was a big sphere in the middle of the room and . . . I kinda broke it . . . please don't be angry! I just said it because I felt weird since then!"

“The creativity sphere you told me about? You shattered your magic?” Error muttered in disbelief to himself. His eye sockets went blind with glitches. “Oh . . . that's why Fresh replaced you so easily. How could have you been that stupid? Whatever, it's not important. This isn't working either. Crap, Nightmare is going to be here . . ."

The rectangle disappeared and Ribbon took a deep breath. It felt good on his plastic lungs. Error snapped his fingers again and they fell through a portal. They crashed back into the Anti-void. Ribbon barely saw what he was doing as he landed flat on his face. Ribbon lay there for a moment, contemplating his life, then he heard Error drop a set of papers down.

Error spread a set of drawings on the ground. Someone with a lot of talent must have made them. One of them had someone who looked like Ribbon, sort of. He wore the same outfit he did now, but his face and body were wrong.

Error kept his arms crossed and stared down at him. “Hurry up, do you recognize any of these? You made that one for my birthday. It looks stupid.” He tapped his foot on the drawing of a chibi Error with a massive chocolate bar. He kissed and cuddled it.

The drawing was silly and he laughed a little, but Ribbon didn’t recognize it. He shook his head. Error huffed and tapped another drawing. “This one? It was a consolation prize you made me when I got stuck in your trap for five hours.”

He didn't recognize that one either. He had a tiny glimpse of something, but that could easily be his imagination. “I- I don’t even draw that much anymore. I usually sew. I’m not this talented either . . .” Ribbon crawled backward. He looked around for Nightmare again. He had to notice he was missing by now, right? Sure he was at a business meeting, but he had to find him!

Error gathered the drawings with his strings and sent them into the air. “I have one more idea. After this, I’m sending you to Dream and the Stars and letting them deal with you.”

Ribbon shook his head. He didn’t want to go back to his kidnappers! They were going to punish him for getting away. “I’ll behave, I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll do my best! What is it?”

“Fight me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Error snapped his fingers and teleported them back to the Doodlesphere. He chose the islands floating around, not any real AUs. The other islands came from AU pieces breaking off and debris from the Creators and Error. The destroyer landed on the ground. He picked up a big stick and threw it at Ribbon. “Pretend that’s Broomie since Nightmare destroyed it.”

Ribbon looked at the stick. Error gave him digital artist gloves with his outfit and it made the stick feel slippery. Or he was just weak, he had almost no muscle after his surgeries. His parasol was lighter and easier to use. Ribbon swung it and fell over on the ground. Error wrapped his strings around him and made him stand up.

Error stood in front of Ribbon and sighed. "Hit me with the stick." I'm standing right here and I'm not even defending myself. This isn't hard, even a baby Asriel could do it."

Ribbon tried to hold it better, but then he panicked. He remembered his training and how Nightmare didn't like it when he landed a hit on him. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to use this, it's too heavy. Can I have my parasol back? Please please?"

"It's the same size as Broomie! How are you . . ." Error rubbed his hand on his face. His tight voice made Ribbon worry he was in trouble. “Okay squid, I need you to listen to me very carefully. First, take the stick and hold it like a weapon. Now, I’m going to destroy this AU and you need to stop me by any means possible. You need to save the world and the people inside before I kill them all. Don’t beg, don’t argue, don’t stammer, don’t cower, and don’t be a crybaby. Just don’t . . . whatever Nightmare told you to do, do the opposite. There, that’s the easiest way I can explain it.”

Ribbon took a moment to absorb the new information and nodded. Opposite? Nightmare liked obedience, silence, trained helplessness, and sweetness. So Error must want defiance, noisiness, independence, and . . . him to act like an asshole? Rude was the opposite of sweet. The thought of acting like that was scary, but he could try if it meant he wouldn't get hurt. It’s like playing make-believe! "Um, Error? When I’m done, can you please send me back home?”

Error laughed without humor. “No! You’re not going back to him! That man is crazy."

Ribbon switched his mannerisms. He narrowed his eyes and changed his stance to one hand on his hip. “Or what? You’re going to use your puppet strings on me? You're too slow to catch me, I'm- I'm better! Faster?" Ribbon wasn't sure what to say.

Error’s mouth froze open before turning into a grin. “There’s the Ink I know and hate! We’re trying this again.”

Ribbon faced him with more of a strut than usual. It felt so wrong, but also natural in a weird way. It’s like he was a confident person.

No, what was he thinking? This was bad, bad, bad! Confidence was a person feeling and Nightmare warned him not to think like a person. When Error wasn’t looking, Ribbon switched back to the way he always stood. Prim and proper. He hit himself for misbehavior.

Error noticed but said nothing, throwing more bone attacks. Ribbon bounced around. "Missed me! Missed me! You call yourself a destroyer? Your aim is awful!” The doll dodged all of his attacks. Being confident, even as an act, was actually . . . fun? A little bit fun, he never played this rough.

Error smirked and doubled down on his Gaster Blasters. Ribbon leaped in the air and ran to go hit him with the stick. He almost laughed, but then Nightmare’s disappointed face flashed before his eyes. Ribbon lost his smile. He would be so mad right now.

Error threw his string of bones at him. Ribbon wasn’t paying attention and was hit in three spots, both shoulders in chest. He flew and slammed against the wall, tangled in bones and string. His shoulders popped and throbbed with pain.

“Nighty . . .” Ribbon moaned, falling flat onto the ground.

The destroyer teleported in front of him and scowled. “Come on, Ink! You were so close that time! Why did you have to screw it up?" He paused and his glitches increased. "He really did reduce you to a damsel in distress who can’t even fight for himself. Can you do anything without him?”

Ribbon curled up in a ball, feeling guilty and embarrassed. “N-no. I can’t. I need him. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . ."

“You’re not a doll, Ink! I want you back to normal!” Was that worry in his voice? Ribbon couldn’t tell. Error's glitches covered his eyes. He grabbed Ribbon’s collar with his strings and brought him closer. “Snap out of it! I- oh screw it, I miss you! I miss fighting and hanging out with you! You annoyed the hell out of me, but I would take that a million times over whatever this is!"

Blue magic wrapped around Ribbon’s body and he was ripped away from Error. He floated away until he fell into Horror’s arms. He looked up and grinned, snuggling up to the bigger skeleton. Horror looked confused, but he gave him a nice head scratch. If Horror was here, that must have meant-

Error couldn’t watch for long as a tendril pulled him to the ground. Error fired a Gaster Blaster at it. Nightmare pulled his top tendril away. He used the bottom two to stand. Error readied his strings and Gaster Blasters. Nightmare prepared his tendrils.

“Nightmare? How did you know where we were?”

Nightmare stood on his tendrils. “I can find Ribbon anywhere in the Doodlesphere, I've been around his aura long enough to recognize it. And we used to fight near the same planes and areas, I remembered this one."

“Should've known," Error grumbled.

“Starlight!” Ribbon struggled in Horror's arms to get to Nightmare. Nightmare held up his hand and while it usually meant to be quiet, he assumed he wanted him to stop.

"Hold still . . . they got this. Nightmare . . . says he wants you . . . with me." Horror said. Ribbon did feel safe with him, so he relaxed. Right, they could handle this. He had to stay safe and then cuddle Nightmare when this was over.

Sneaking from behind, Killer and Dust jumped Error. Killer stabbed his shoulder. Error rolled over and jammed his elbow into his chest, kicking Dust away. He wrapped his strings around their souls and threw them to the other islands. Error fired his Gaster Blasters at the three of them. Horror tightened his grip on Ribbon and hid behind a portal. He still squeezed him as they watched the four of them fight.

Dust teleported around and fired his pistols in the air to confuse Error. Killer ran around and threw knives and bones. Nightmare waited patiently for the perfect time to strike. Dirt and dust blew into the air and made Ribbon cough. Error levitated out of the heavy cloud and targeted Killer. Error turned around and Nightmare struck him from behind. He wrapped his tendrils around Error and pulled him out of the sky. He grabbed him by the skull, making him glitch and kick, then he summoned his sleeping magic. Error screamed and worked to fight it off, but he couldn't. His eye sockets went heavy and he fell asleep. Nightmare's magic always felt good, so he didn't worry about Error.

"Well now I'm not the only one with a concussion." Killer spat at Error's feet. "Dang, I kinda liked you before all this."

Nightmare watched as Killer and Dust tied Error up with his own strings. Then he looked over at Ribbon and Horror. Ribbon reached out for him. Nightmare only noticed his outfit now and Ribbon couldn't read his expression. Anger? Shock? He didn't know, but he didn't think he was in trouble. Nightmare kissed Ribbon's head and looked up at Horror. He nodded at him. "Good work, you may carry him back to the castle and we will deal with this. I need your help."

==============================================================================

“Come on, Error! Wake up! Wake up!"

Error groaned and stretched. “Ugh, my head . . . wait. Where am I?” He looked around and found himself shirtless and shackled in a dark dungeon. He tried to summon his strings, but the Anti-Magic cuffs He shot toward the bars and shook them. “Ribbon, what did you do to me? You bastard!”

Ribbon smiled and tilted his head. He struggled to contain his excitement, not only because Nightmare refilled his paints. Nightmare promised he would punish Error for everything he did to him. He and Horror were out of the room gathering supplies. Ribbon even got to help! His creative mind already had ideas, like he was the one who got to hold him down.

“Nightmare said he might be able to help you! He's mad at you for taking me, hurting me, putting me in those clothes." Ribbon patted the skirt of his dress, the one he had before Error made him take it off. Killer found it.

"Help me? What is that supposed to mean?"

“I . . . I don't know yet. All he said was that you would never hurt me or anyone else again. If I had to guess . . . I bet he's going to do the same thing he did when I misbehaved. Punish you.” Ribbon looked down at the moon brand on his chest. “I'm not allowed to make the big decisions on what happens to prisoners, Nightmare does all of that. I only help do the little things like tie them up and bring food or water."

Error looked horrified instead of happy, which surprised Ribbon. Why wouldn’t anyone want this life? “Why . . . what are you allowed to do? It sounds like Nightmare doesn't let you do anything,” he asked.

Ribbon had to think about that question. He counted on his fingers and pulled his string. “No talking to strangers, no wearing boy clothes, no leaving the castle, no spending money." He took a deep breath. "No speaking without permission, no alcohol, no drugs, no sweets unless on special occasions, and no friends. Oh, never talk back, never disobey, never complain, act sweet and smile, remember my place . . ."

"I would need drugs to put up with this." Error leaned against the cage, looking nauseous.

“I think that's all the things I'm not allowed to do. It might sound bad, but it's actually a good thing! Having all those things made me act out and disobey. I need strict rules to follow! I got used to them, and Nightmare became much nicer once I stopped thinking for myself. Maybe you'll be happy here if Nightmare decides to train you like he did with me! I can teach you to avoid the same mistakes I made. We can even be friends if he says it's okay!”

That was the part Ribbon was most enthusiastic about. He could have his very first real friend. Could. He felt safer knowing Error was behind bars and he couldn't hurt him. He could watch someone else go through his training. He could shape him into the perfect BFF. He wanted to play with him so badly.

Error took in a long breath. “Oh for the love of the Creators, Ink! Open your eyes! I don’t believe for one minute you’re happy like this. I haven’t seen you this pathetic since you tried drinking your blue and red vials at the same time. You’re fifty times worse now. You’re jumpy, you’re scared, you’re confused, you always look like you’re about to cry, and Nightmare treats you like an object! You just listed a bunch of normal things you're not allowed to do! Admit it, you’re miserable! What happened to the annoying Ink who used to cause mischief and never let others boss him around? Oh wait, I know! NIGHTMARE BEAT HIM INTO HIDING!”

Ribbon’s enthusiasm faded and his left eye twitched. He didn’t care that he said bad things about him, he got that a lot, but he wouldn’t let bad things about his fiance slide. “Hey! You don’t know anything! Nightmare doesn’t beat me, it was only when I was bad, and that was months ago!” He wasn’t allowed to use the word Error says. He remembered what Error said “He’s the one person who’s ever loved me! Once I become his wife and queen, he’ll love me even more!”

“Bullshit! Nightmare doesn’t care about you, he’s just crazy! He cares about your powers and how easy you are to control. If he loves you as much as you say he does, then why does he treat you like some puppy? Why does he make you feel like you’re nothing compared to him? I’ve never been in a relationship, but I don’t need to be to know that is a major red flag.”

“I am less than a person! I explained this a few minutes ago! I am a doll. I was supposed to be a doll all along, being a person only made me worse! I think that- that will help you too! You'll be better once Nightmare is done with you! Listen to me! This is why NO ONE LOVES YOU!" Ribbon's mind started to spiral and he took a breath.

Error’s scowl tightened. He growled and lashed out, but then changed his mind, sinking back down. “You’re a liar, Ink. I choose not to care about others and vice versa."

Ribbon cocked his head in confusion. “Why does everyone keep calling me Ink? I’m not Ink anymore!”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sure as hell not talking to him and it was a mistake to try and save you. Until he comes back to his senses, I’m not saying a word to you.” Error turned around and slumped against the cage wall.

“Wait, Error! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean what I said.” Ribbon pleaded, but Error didn’t budge. His scowl increased. The doll sniffed. “I’m sorry, I just want to be friends! I can be better! I swear I can fix it!"

He kept apologizing and trying to get Error to talk to him until his pull-string retracted. Nothing worked. He did want Error to be happy. He was sure he would be happy and make a good doll. But Ribbon failed to be a good friend first. Another thing he’s worthless at. Maybe he had to use a different persuasion method to prove being a toy was better than being a person. A direct comparison. What would Nightmare do in this situation? Probably turn to violence . . .

The door to the dungeon opened. Ribbon looked up to Nightmare walking down the steps. He had his arms behind his back and looked as handsome as ever, even in the creepy dungeon light.

“Well, well, well, this is interesting. Ribbon, how are you-” Nightmare noticed the tears on his cheekbones. “Did Error make you cry?”

Ribbon nodded, wiping his eye. Nightmare frowned and picked him up, rubbing his skull and shushing him. Ribbon clung to him, trying to ignore what Error said. Nightmare hummed and kept rubbing his head.

“Shh, tell me what happened.” His voice was quiet and gentle, calming Ribbon down almost instantly. He snuggled onto his lap and whispered the entire conversation. Error’s face scrunched from disgust.

“Can you stop cuddling him in front of me? It's gross!" Error shouted, grabbing the bars and trying to shake them. “Let me go!”

Nightmare glared at Error as he set Ribbon back down. “My little doll, could you do me a favor? Go into the storage room and bring the blindfold and bandages. I have a plan.”

“Yes Nighty,” Ribbon said. He slipped off his lap and skipped through the dungeon. He looked around a big room filled with weapons, restraints, spikes, and a few medical supplies. It was like his training room, but bigger. Ribbon picked out a black blindfold from a drawer and picked up a roll of bandages.

Ribbon carried both items through the dungeon, which wasn’t as scary as it once had been. Probably because Nightmare hasn’t sent him to the white room in that time. He hoped to never go in there again.

Ribbon slowed down when he heard them arguing. More screaming, mostly from Error. He peeked from around the corner at them. It looked the same as before, but Horror showed up this time. It was only for a moment, then he disappeared into the dark. Not even his red eye glowed.

“-you’re the one who decided to ruin my plan. I gave you a warning in advance, yet you ignored me. I don’t want to hurt him." Nightmare looked up and smiled when Ribbon arrived. "There he is. Oh, you chose an excellent blindfold. Good work." Nightmare picked up the rough fabric and pet Ribbon's head, making him purr.

Error pulled his head back and screamed. Nightmare brushed his fingers along his cheekbone and held back a laugh. “My, my, the great destroyer being brought to his knees over a single touch. This is going to be interesting. Ribbon, would you like to do the honor of preparing him for torture?"

“Don’t do it, Ink! If you want me to be your friend so bad, you’ll get me out of here!”

Nightmare kissed him on the head, then on both cheeks. “Go on, do it for me?"

Ribbon didn't even need to think. Nightmare's kisses made it so he didn't have to think about who to help. It did make him feel ashamed for having those thoughts about friends. Nightmare was right, again. He had to put his loneliness aside and focus on the team, friendship did nothing good. Or he could give all of his stuffed animals names and stories and treat them as friends, more than he already is. He liked that idea more. Ribbon tied the blindfold around Error, nearly getting bit by him. Nightmare pulled Ribbon out of the way with his tendril and set him by his side. Nightmare made a hand gesture.

Horror stepped out of the shadows, holding a massive chainsaw. He pulled the cord and revved it up. Error's mouth went agape at the sound and he shuffled back, fighting his Anti-Magic bonds. "Why the hell do you have a chainsaw?"

Nightmare's mouth curved up as he stared down at Error. "To teach you a lesson. Ribbon told me what happened. You forced him to fight you and you put your hands on him. I don't want to cut both of your hands off in case I need you later, but I have another idea. Horror, go ahead."

Nightmare covered Ribbon's eyes with his tendrils and held him, but he listened. It was a mix of screaming, glitching, chainsaw sounds, and bones breaking. He thought it would only be a few seconds, but it seemed to last way longer than that. Horror took his time. Error's screaming stopped and Ribbon worried. Did Nightmare and Horror go further than his arm? Something heavy clattered on the ground.

"Close your eyes if you can't handle it." Nightmare removed the tendril after a moment and let Ribbon see. Oh, that's why he went quiet. Error crashed in the middle of getting his arm chopped off. A loading bar hovered above his head and his arm lay on the ground. Yellowish-blue blood leaked from his shoulder. His arm glitched on the ground, almost dusting.

Nightmare wrapped his strings around Error's soul and snapped him out of his crash. Ribbon's heart fluttered over Nightmare showing off his power like that. There wasn't a single thing that could hurt him when Nightmare was around. The dark king summoned malice in his hand, forcing it into Error's soul. Well, half of it went into his soul. The other half went down his throat as Nightmare shoved his hand inside. The move woke Error up all the way. Error gagged and curled up into himself. He stared at his bleeding arm turning into dust and glitches. "Nightmare, stop!"

“Oh I’m sorry, I thought you said you needed drugs to put up with this?” Nightmare chuckled under his breath, then he forced the malice down his throat again. Error sputtered and tried to cough it out. Glitches burst around his body. The liquid leaked out of his eyes and mouth. "Were you bluffing? Oh well."

Nightmare smiled at his doll. “Ribbon, sweetheart, bring me my branding iron, it's in the living room by the fireplace. This is going to be a long night.”

12 notes · View notes

galaxywhump · 6 months

Text

I've been playing Skyrim again and one quest in particular has a very whumpy path so enjoy: (Orthorn is the elf, and the one speaking in the first screenshot. The Caller is the person you negotiate with.)

Bonus Fallout:

#playing skyrim as a way of coping with life in general #and i've been feeling lab whump recently so this was a lovely find #if you leave him behind he'll go back to the cage #and when you try to talk to him his only line is 'how could you just leave me here?'#there are also vampires being experimented on!#skyrim #whump #lab whump #fallout #amputation whump #marti talks #thank you uesp and fallout wiki for sponsoring this whump

23 notes · View notes

otterfrost · 8 days

Text

Prompt by whump-mania

“Ah, you remember this scar, don’t you? The day we met…god, what I’d give to break you like that again.”

TW amputation, torture, implied conditioning

Whumpee looked up at Whumper and took the order. They started kicking and screaming in reply. Whumper laughed and drew the since-unused knife that had given Whumpee that first scar. Whumpee didn't stop fighting. They'd never stop fighting until Whumper gave them the order.

Whumper eventually got frustrated and leaned in close, then hissed, "You'll regret this,"

Whumper raised the knife and slowly cut off their pinkie. Then ring finger.

"Stop fighting," Whumper ordered.

Whumpee obeyed, and Whumper hissed, "Good. Did you enjoy that? We should do this more often!"

Whumpee swallowed and nodded, and Whumper finally let them rest.

#whump #tw amputation whump #amputation whump #implied condition #creepy/intimate whumper #whump torture

4 notes · View notes

ronanziriano · 2 months

Text

#10 by umepai

Find her on: Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

#umepai #whump #blood #gore #injured whumpee #amputation whump

7 notes · View notes

whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

OH I love the guard dog drabble!!! can I request a continuation or something from the whumpee‘s pov? I wanna see their conditioned thought process :)

tw pet whump, conditioned whumpee, left for dead, caretaker new master, amputation, abandonment, self-deprecation, self-blame, ableist language directed at self, murder, dehumanisation

Whumpee tried to breathe evenly. There was no one to chastise it for panting anymore, but it still believed that if it held itself to the rules of its former master, said master might come to rescue it. Maybe they'd have a change of heart. Maybe they'd decide Whumpee didn't deserve to die shivering and in pain, abandoned in a dirty alley.

When the stranger appeared, it found it had no strength left to pull itself into the shadows to avoid being noticed. All it could do was lie there obediently and occasionally whine as the person touched it and muttered concerned-sounding questions.

It didn't know how to react. Its master wasn't here anymore to tell it whether to bite or nuzzle, and Whumpee didn't have the capability to decide on it itself.

Maybe this was good? The mention of a vet was promising, but could this stranger really be telling the truth? Even if they were... was it allowed to accept help? Its master left it for dead; every breath it'd drawn since was an act of rebellion, further marking it as a failed dog who couldn't even die when it was told to.

But then the mysterious person noticed its ankle, and Whumpee realised it wouldn't have to make the choice. Now that they knew it was faulty, it was only a matter of time before they turned on their heel and decided to forget about the encounter.

At least that was what it thought, before its saviour quickly reassured it.

Help... It would get help. It would be fixed for a new master to take home and make use of.

Would its old master resent it if it went along with this? It wasn't its duty to ponder that. Dogs were to follow the orders of their masters, and Whumpee didn't have an owner anymore. Up until this moment.

Whumpee tried very hard to be good for its new master. But when Caretaker brought it to a clinic, one of the first assassments the doctors had made were that its leg was unsalvageable.

It would have to be cut off.

It couldn't keep the panic at bay, it snarled and growled and made a huge fuss. It only managed to settle down when Caretaker firmly told it to, when they guided it back to the comfortable hospital bed and ordered it to let the professionals help.

Surgery was a blur, a blank spot, and more of a blur after, and Whumpee thought everybody had changed their minds with the way its ankle still hurt when the first round of painkillers wore off. Phantom pains, its owner had called it.

Caretaker was still kind after the surgery, softly reassuring it over and over that they wouldn't leave it. They should've, by all accounts. It was weak for a guard dog, ugly for a lapdog, useless for any sort of companion Caretaker might've wanted out of it.

And yet, they stayed. Whumpee couldn't talk, but its silent resolve and pledge of loyalty was as strong as any made with words.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

There was nothing but pain and exhaustion in Whumpee's world as it pushed its body to its limits, deciding that a simple setback — such as a missing foot — could never be an excuse for giving up and disappointing its owner. Caretaker took pity on a faulty guard dog, and Whumpee would pay them back by becoming the best among the faulty guard dogs.

It didn't need its foot to be strong. It didn't need its foot to stay alert and obedient.

It didn't care about the instructions of anybody but Caretaker. And when Caretaker wasn't there to supervise its training and rest, it didn't listen to a single nurse who dared assume it would simply accept a new reality in which it was of no use to such a kind, benevolent master.

There were no words to describe the joy Whumpee felt when Caretaker allowed it into their home. It was overwhelming, it made it want to cry and laugh at the same time.

It had a home again! It had a home, and a master, and a duty. Caretaker wasn't super clear on what that duty would be yet, but for now, it was just happy to be wanted.

Its new pet bed was an unimaginable step up from the hardwood floor of its former master's bedroom, as well as the wet ground of the alleyway. It was a place to curl up and sleep comfortably, a luxury it'd thought only a prized show dog would ever receive.

And Caretaker still spoke so softly to it. Even though it was recovered now, able to walk and do whatever was needed of it, they still saw it fit to show it kindness. It was abundantly clear that Whumpee would never ever be able to pay it all back, but all it could do was try its best.

It jolted awake at the sound of someone rattling the doorknob. Master wasn't home — which meant the duty of defending the home rested upon its shoulders. It growled instinctively, getting into a position from which it could attack with ease, if the intruder were to proceed.

And they did, pushing the door open a mere ten seconds later. Whumpee didn't hesitate.

It tackled the attacker to the floor, holding them down as it tore their throat out. They never got to use the knife they'd clearly brought in case of a potential confrontation, all they could do was grasp it for a few twitchy moments before they dropped it again in favour of clasping both hands over their ruined trachea.

Whumpee stood up and stomped down on their stomach, once, twice, as many times as it took for its foot to break the soft flesh of their abdomen. And then some more. It was so absorbed in its mission that it didn't hear Master entering the apartment, only when they addressed it with clear horror in their voice.

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, nononono–

Had it done something wrong? It dropped to its knees, whining like it had been wounded again, and sobbing like it had any right to do so. If it had made a mistake trying to defend Master's home, then it didn't have any sort of right to pity itself, it had to be punished.

It didn't want to be punished.

Master didn't understand. Whumpee quickly brought out evidence: the lockpick, the knife... Master had to know that Whumpee hadn't gotten violent for no reason. They had to understand.

Please, please understand. I'm a guard dog. This is the only thing I know how to do. I bring death and destruction, but only when Master's safety is threatened, only when it's just, only when it's necessary.

All I wanted was to protect Master.

"You're– you're a guard dog," Master said softly, and Whumpee's relief at being understood mixed with the fear of being abandoned for it. "This... Oh, dear. This is not... This is not good."

It stopped breathing for a moment.

It was happening all over again.

#whump #whump drabble #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #caretaker new master #amputation whump #abandonment #self-deprecation #self-blame #recovery fic #murder #dehumanisation #left for dead

121 notes · View notes

sapphicccici · 1 month

Text

My First Whump Post

This is canon backstory for my OC Detali Gamble, who is a beserker barbarian. She and Makkel Dextri (caretaker) are prisoners who are forced to be gladiators. She lost her arm in a gladiator fight, and has to deal with the repercussions :)

Tags: Female Whumpee, Mute Caretaker, Post Amputation Whump, Defiant Whumpee, Institutional Whump, (lowkey) Suicidal Whumpee

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Detali stared at the juice. The cap was screwed on tightly, which would’ve been no problem for her just hours ago. Dr. White had told her she should be grateful at how quickly technology was able to heal her. She had told him to fuck off.

She raised the cap to her mouth and bit down hard, and tried to unscrew it. She struggled for several minutes, before slamming the juice onto the table.

Makkel looked over the counter, concern written clearly on his face.

“Sorry.” She grumbled. “I didn’t mean to be loud.”

She tried again to tackle the juice, this time tucking it under the nub of what used to be her right arm to hold it steady while unscrewing the cap with her left hand. She struggled for a minute, grunting with the effort.

Makkel slowly approached her and reached out his hand for her to hand it over to him.

“No,” Detali huffed. “I want to do it myself.”

He nodded, and stepped back.

She squeezed the bottle harder into her armpit, and finally twisted the bottle enough to hear the click sound of the cap releasing. Then the bottle emptied itself into her lap.

She finally snapped. Rage swarmed her body, white hot and loud.

She growled, standing and chucking the bottle as hard as she could at the wall. She screamed and kicked her chair, toppling it over. She shoved the table with so much force that it screeched against the ground. She didn’t care. She screamed as she started picking up things off of the table, flinging them at the walls.

“I fucking hate it here!” She spat. Tears streamed down her face. “I should’ve just died! Why can’t you fuckers just let me die!”

She screamed again and shoved the table harder, toppling it over and shattering the glass tabletop.

A guard approached her, his taser raised. “Ms. Gamble that is enough. Stand down.”

Detali followed as much force as she could muster through her body, until her fist connected with his face.

The guard fell back onto the floor, wiping blood from his nose before standing and running away.

Suddenly, she felt large arms surrounding her.

“No! Let me go!” She punctuated every word with a punch into the arms that were holding her.

The arms turned her around, tucking her head into their chest. With surprise she looked up to see Makkel holding her.

“Makkel let me go, please.” She sobbed. “I don’t want to be here, Makkel, please.”

A tear streamed down Makkel's cheek as he dropped to his knees, pulling her down into his lap.

She sobbed intelligibly into his chest as he stroked her hair. The fight drained from her body with each stroke.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway, crunching on glass as they entered the room. Detali looked up to see six guards standing with tasers ready, surrounding her and Makkel.

Makkel held up a hand and lifted his other hand to hold her tighter, shielding her face from the guards.

“Dextri’s got her.” The guard with the bleeding nose announced to the group. “She shouldn’t be any more trouble to us.”

They stepped back, and turned to walk away. One guard looked back, making eye contact with Makkel. He nodded, and she turned and left the two of them sitting on the floor.

#oc whump #whump community #female whumpee #defiant whumpee #mute character #mute caretaker #amputation whump #institutional whump #my oc #whump #whump writing #whumpee #whumpblr

12 notes · View notes

hurt-and-comfort-me-please · 1 month

Text

Battlefield Casualties (Civil War Era Accurate) TW Amputation, No Anesthesia

"This will only hurt for a moment," The doctor said, he was a liar, if it was only going to be a moment they wouldn't have to have 5 nurses holding the soldier down to the table.

"The more you struggle the more you will bleed!"

"Get that thing away from me!" Joseph screams, struggling hard against his

It was the thing that all soldiers dreaded, a tourniquet wrenched around his calf, cutting off all sensation and blood. Medicine had run out days ago, leaving Joseph and his comrades to feel the procedure in full. The surgeon loomed over him, bone saw at the ready.

His mind races through everything that led to this point, but that only makes it worse. Joseph steadied his gaze to the candle-lit wooden chandelier above them, focusing on the warm glow of the lights on the arched wooden ceiling of the church the doctors had set up shop in. The only thing they bothered to put up was the Union flag.

He choked back tears as the tourniquet was pulled tighter and tighter until it felt like his leg was about to fall off.

"Keep him still!" The surgeon ordered, the nurses tightening their grip on Joseph's leg to keep it steady. One of the nurses slipped a piece of gauze between Joseph's teeth, giving a quick explanation about how he doesn't want to break his teeth.

The nurse pulled Joseph's head back down to the table, wordlessly imploring him not to watch, and Joseph knew what was right about to happen.

White hot agony ripped through his body as the bone saw was plunged into his leg. The already mangled flesh of Joseph's leg almost instantly lost feeling, replacing the pain with the guttural ripping and tearing of nerves and tendons. The surgeon was methodical, one quick radial slice of the soft flesh, tendons, and arteries, then 3 hard saws through the bone. Within 15 seconds, Joseph had lost his leg at the calf.

The lost limb fell to the floor with a sickening thud, not that it could be heard on account of Joseph's screams. He nearly choked on the gauze in his mouth, struggling to breathe through it.

Without so much as a minute to process, Joseph was pulled off the table and onto a stretcher and whisked out of the room. Everything following that was a blur.

#whump writing #whump #amputation whump #historical whump #soldier whumpee

4 notes · View notes

whump-queen · 2 years

Note

So you mentioned wanting to buy Castys... what exactly would you do with him if he was yours :) asking for personal reasons

So I wrote this in a straight up sadistic frenzy and got very carried away having too much fun as usual. I feel like I got more unhinged as I kept writing, but I figured you of all people appreciate that ;)

So without further ado, here is a list of awful, horrible things I would do to our favorite resident immortal <3

Terrible things I would do to Castys

Content warning: torture, extreme gore, vivisection, electrocution, starvation, amputation, autocannibalism, generally just lots of blood and violence

1. Straight up crucify him.

Nail his limbs to a wooden cross—traditional or St. Andrews, I could go either way— and watch his head hang down as I leave him up there like a garden decoration. I’d probably have to gag him after a while cuz he wouldn’t stop running his mouth and being so god damn annoying—but after a few days, when the hunger and dehydration start to take their toll, he’d fall silent and I could undo the gag to watch his pretty face as he hangs there limply, eyes foggy and unfocused, neck and jaw completely slack, mouth open.

2. Stab long knives through his hands, arms, feet, and legs, pinning him to the wall behind him.

Strung up high enough on the wall so he’s forced to hang there by the knives, stab wounds slowly ripping through his flesh with the dead weight. I’d let him hang there until the weight of his body eventually rips through the stab wounds, up through his limbs, until he collapses to the ground. Assuming he hasn’t died from the blood loss by then, I can just pin him right back up by stabbing different holes into him.

3. Pull his eyes out with a melon baller and force him to swallow them.

4. Water torture. I want to watch him panic and repanic every time he resurrects and realizes he still can’t breathe. He’s still drowning.

I’m a huge fan of waterboarding. I could do it basically forever. Imagine him waking up from dying via suffocation and realizing he still can’t breathe.

Locking him in a glass box and filling it with water—once the box is full of water and he eventually drowns, his body goes limp and he sinks to the bottom of the tank, resting there, peacefully, for a while before his eyes jolt open and he’s faced with the realization he’s still in there. He’s going to keep drowning, again, and again, and again, until I get bored of watching. But I love the panicked look on his face, so who knows how long that would take <3

Let’s take that one step further: Castys kept in a vast and beautiful aquarium tank, as a decoration in a luxury penthouse or party venue. The way one might show off one’s wealth and status with a glamorous wall-to-ceiling fish tank, but with a boy who drowns over and over again. A glamorous spectacle for gatherings of the elite—they’d all take bets on how long he’d last this time.

5. Electrocution!

I want to run experiments to see how much the human body can take. Cattle prods, electric chairs, chaining him by his wrists and zapping the metal chains with enough voltage to leave him hanging limply, panting hard, muscles convulsing. And when his heart finally gives out, doing it all over again when he resurrects. Would he keep convulsing once he’s just a corpse?

Shock collar. Turned up to full force all the time. If he’s my slave, I know he’s going to be a real little shit pretty much constantly. How many times do I get to electrocute him to death before he finally starts obeying? Surely he isn’t that stupid.

6. Bleeding out.

I want to watch him pass out from blood loss, only to suffocate and drown in the pool of blood below him.

I could tell him I’m collecting from him. I need as much blood as possible. If i were a vampire, he’d be the infinite blood bag. In fact, I bet I could make a fortune bleeding him dry over and over and packaging his blood to sell to other vampires. I could drain him completely every single day and he’d be there the next—hanging from his chains, heart beating and veins filled with sweet, fresh blood.

7. I’ve been thinking about this one for a while now.

Chain him spread eagle in the middle of a room, each limb chained to the corners of the ceiling and floor. Slowly wind a crank that tightens all the chains at once, putting more and more pressure on his arms and legs, until eventually they pop out of their sockets and he screams and begs for it to stop, but I keep tightening the chains until his limbs rip away from his body in a sickening mess of blood and torn flesh. What’s left of him would collapse to the ground. He wouldn’t be able to move, he could only wait to die from the blood loss and hope that there are new limbs in place of the bloody chasms when he awakens.

Then I get to do it all over again :)

8. Forget forcing his mouth open so wide his jawbone breaks, I want to rip his jaw straight off his face. Would he still be able to scream?

9. Vivisection vivisection!!

I could remove all of his organs!! How many can I make him swallow before he finally dies? He’d just make new ones anyway... Wake up Castys, it’s dinner time :))))

10. Starvation. So he’s weak and dizzy all the time.

Or even crueler—starving him enough to incapacitate him completely, but giving him just enough to not allow him to die. Because if he dies, he gets to heal. And healing is a luxury he definitely has not earned.

Since I’m keeping him alive for the time being, I want to see how many injuries he can sustain at once. He’s so broken and weak I don’t even need to keep him chained while I torture him anymore.

I want him sobbing, begging for death before I finally grant him the smallest bit of grace and decapitate him with a machete. Not because I think he’s worth an ounce of mercy, but because it was getting a little gross and I was getting a little bored. And I wanted a fresh body to puncture.

11. Tie him to a rock in the middle of a desert wasteland and let vultures slowly pick at his bloody form until nothing but bones remain. Then let the vultures do it again.

12. Amputation but I cauterize the wounds and don’t let him die immediately after. He gets to suffer with no limbs until he passes out from the pain or dies of shock :)

13. Stabbing him hundreds of times, he’d be long dead but I keep stabbing. When he wakes, fully healed, soaked in a vast pool of his own blood, I order him to clean the floor with his tongue until every last drop is gone. And If he refuses, I threaten not to let him die after the next torture I have planned.

14. I wanna make him swallow broken glass. How many shards can I make him eat before the internal bleeding kills him and he regenerates? I wonder if he would resurrect with the glass still inside him.

15. Shove the blade of a sword down his throat. Let it slice his esophagus in half and let the blood flow down into his organs until it shines red and blue through his skin. Then slice him open down the throat and chest to see it all exposed and ripped apart.

————

Thanks so much for the ask! Your blog is one of my absolute favorites <3

There will probably be a part 2 to this at some point as I had way too much fun writing this.

And if you’re not @brutal-nemesis and you read this far, I love you <3