About blackrosesandwhump

Facts about me:

What I write:

Masterlist

My writing tag: #blackroseswrites

My prompt tag: #blackrosesprompts

My dreams tag: #blackrosesdreams

My answered asks tag: #blackrosesanswers

Some of my favorite tropes: lab whump, inhuman/half-human/monster whumpees, restraints, experimentation, stabbing, immortality whump, breath whump, coughing up blood, fainting, magical curses, chains

Things I don't write or read or share*: NSFW, noncon/dubcon sexual content, animalization, emeto

*To be clear, these are not triggers, I just don't care for them. So if I follow you and your blog contains one or more of these things, please don't be concerned. :)

And also, if it wasn't already obvious, I’m super glad to be part of the whump community 😁

Whumpril Day 23: Brain Fog

Part 1

CW: magic whump, um...that's about it

Oryn stumbles up from the cellar, squinting as he passes from near pitch-dark into sunlight. Though the witch’s house is dim compared to the brief life he glimpsed at Griffin’s circus, the sudden light hurts his eyes. His mind feels dazed, his senses dulled after the effects of last night’s magic. Oryn had never felt magic before, at least not like that. And certainly not at the hand of a doll girl. Maybe that was a figment of his exhausted, enchanted imagination. The face he saw as he slipped into a dreamless sleep didn’t look real. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe—

And then she’s standing in front of him, poised in the entrance to a room that looks like a kitchen. The same ragged dress. The same expressionless, painted face. The same blank, blue eyes. Oryn stops cold, unsure of his next steps, suddenly afraid.

“Please, come,” says the doll girl. “I made you something to eat.” She turns stiffly and disappears around a corner, not waiting to see if Oryn will obey. Maybe it’s the lingering effects of her spell, but he can’t stop himself from walking forward and following her.

The kitchen is a little darker than the previous room and studded with candles. The doll girl turns from an enormous black iron stove, a steaming pot in her hands. “Sit,” she orders, gesturing at the long wooden table in the center of the room. His mind still fogged, Oryn has only a moment to look around before he finds himself sitting as she asked, waiting as she ladles something that looks like oatmeal into a wooden bowl.

Despite the lurking dread in his stomach, the mixture smells good. Oryn can’t resist taking a bite, even as he watches the doll girl tidy the kitchen with her strange, inhuman movements. Another bite. The warmth releases just a little of Oryn’s tension, and he keeps eating. In the eerie quiet, his gaze wanders, taking in the small details of his new home. Tiny skulls lined up on the windowsill. Glass jars and vials arranged in rows next to shelves of dishes and cups.

And—the sight sends a chill down his spine—a blackened wooden door at one end, secured with locks and bolts that don’t look like anything Oryn has ever seen.

He sets the spoon down, afraid again, and dares to ask a question.

“What’s—what’s your name?”

The doll girl turns her blank stare on him, but somehow, it looks gentle. “My name is—”

Then she freezes, motionless, listening. Oryn’s breath catches in his throat. When she speaks again, the gentleness is gone, and her voice is inhuman again.

“The witch is coming.”

House of Bone and Wing Masterlist

After a very brief stint at Griffin's Circus of Freaks and Anomalies, Oryn Lockhouse is bought by a wealthy witch. But his hopes of being treated well crumble to dust when he realizes what she has in store for him. To survive the torture, he has no choice but to become...someone else.

Part 1 - In which Oryn is enchanted by a stranger

Part 2 - In which he adjusts (kind of) to his new home

What Did I Dream Last Night, Episode...???

Today's episode features vampire roleplay and self-destruction!

(under the cut because of the self-destruction part)

Whumpril Day 22: Stoicism Breaks

A/N: Ren is a character I created for Febuwhump here.

CW: emotional whump, captivity

Human weapons aren’t allowed to have feelings. But as Ren stands in front of Jude’s suspended body, he feels himself breaking. His own body, though now a weapon, is still partly human. And the sight floods him with emotions that threaten to drown him.

Cold, greenish light illuminates Jude’s outstretched arms, his colorless, dead-looking skin, the thick vines wrapped tight around his torso and limbs like a monstrous snake. He hangs in place, limp, unresponsive.

And it’s all Ren’s fault. Ren’s fault that Jude was captured in the first place. Ren’s fault that he didn’t arrive in time to save his teammate. No, his friend. Human weapons aren’t allowed to have friends either, but as Ren sinks to his knees, shattered, the truth presses in on him as if he too were being strangled by those unearthly vines.

For some reason, he has friends. And his existence could get them all killed.

Whumpril Day 21: Just Hold On

Also Whump Prompt 104

CW: bleeding out, sidekick whumpee, dying, emotional whump

With each passing, excruciating second, sidekick looks a little bit worse. As the pool of blood under his shoulder slowly expands, his face turns greyer, his frantic eyes more empty, and his skin colder. Hero presses his bloodstained hands over the wound, holding back a scream. A scream of frustration. A scream of pain that no matter what he does, no matter how much power he wills into his hands, nothing is working. Sidekick is bleeding out.

“Hold on,” hero begs, tears pricking at his eyes, “just hold on…I won’t let you die…”

Sidekick’s eyelids flutter open and closed. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a trickle of blood down the side of his mouth.

“Just hold on…” hero repeats. The lie tastes like metal on his tongue. At this rate, sidekick is going to die right here in the street.

“It’s really too bad, isn’t it?” comes a cool voice close by. Supervillain. Hero wants to turn and scream at him too. “If only you could heal him. But you can’t, can you?”

Horror turns hero’s blood to ice. The truth dawns on him like the sun on the end of the world.

“You did this. You cursed the wound so it can’t heal.”

“Ding ding ding!” supervillain crows, beaming. “Now you get to watch your precious little buddy die right in front of you. Fitting payback, don’t you think?”

Hero doesn’t have the words to answer. But as sidekick’s breathing gets shallower, he makes a silent vow.

He will destroy supervillain, no matter what it takes.

100 Drabble Challenge: Lab Whump Edition

The challenge: write exactly 100 words about any of the following 60 prompts. Have fun!

Whumpril Day 19: I Need You

CW: poison whump, sickness, fever whump

Your body is wracked with poison. You lie in a darkened room, delirious and sick, unable to lie still as the effects of whumper’s spell take hold and jerk you between shallow nightmares and fevered wakefulness. You can’t sense much beyond the dim light, terrible pain, and caretaker’s presence.

Caretaker bends over you and drapes a cool cloth over your forehead. For a moment, the cool sinks into your skin, and you feel a degree of relief. But whumper’s poison spell is too powerful and the relief is swallowed instantly. A whimper escapes you.

If only it would stop. If only the poison would stop.

And then, caretaker seems to disappear. Weakly, you manage to raise a desperate, shaking hand.

“Please...don’t leave me…I need you.” The words come out raspy. They don’t sound like your voice at all.

Caretaker appears again, smiling despite their furrowed concern. “I won’t leave you. Don’t worry. I’ll be right here as long as you need me.”

You slip back into a dream with caretaker’s reassurance echoing in your mind, and this time, the dream isn’t quite so bad.

What are some good picrews for male characters? I want to make my OCs but am not sure where to start.

Well, I *wanted* to write, but then I got really sad and now I'm too sad to write :(

Whump Prompt 133

Write something inspired by this concept:

A vampire punishes their personal human bloodbag by locking the human in their own coffin for hours at a time with barely any air.

Unfortunately, being locked in a coffin only serves to make the human panic and his blood taste bad. Funny what coffin-time can do to a person.

Whumpril Day 16: Coughing Fit

CW: illness whump

A gentle spring breeze lifts the curtains at Nathaniel’s open window, bringing with it a faint scent of grass. He tries to take a deep breath. Tries and fails. Instead, the movement starts his cough going again. Just when he thought he might be able to get out of bed. At least his fever broke during the night, leaving in its wake a damp pillowcase and tangled sheets.

His eyes watering, he grabs a clean handkerchief off the side table and wipes his face. His chest no longer feels like it’s about to implode, which means whatever strange power fueling the stone has settled down. For now, that is. He can never escape it.

Another cough racks him, stealing the breath from his lungs. As he doubles over in bed, gasping, he makes a vow to himself.

The moment he can leave his bedroom again, he will find a way to lift the curse, no matter what it takes. And he’ll start in the library.