#wolf whumper

[clickerflight]

Voltober 18. Come Sweet Death - Sonder story

Author's Note: Another bit from Sonder Story with @writing-whump Is a very good time! This actually takes place before our writing starts. This is a part of Cody's backstory.

Masterlist - Voltober 17

Content: wolf whumpee, wolf whumper, minor whumpee, fear, 3/4ths of a death wish, execution, eviscerated, kind of sort or hospital whump if you squint at it

@voltober

Bleeding Out | Near Death Experience | Death Wish/Self Sacrifice

Cody sat shivering in a holding cell at the precinct. He rubbed at the terrible bruise forming on his arm where the chemicals in the dart used to subdue him interacted badly with his blood vessels. It reacted badly in all of him, actually. He was exhausted, he couldn’t stop tearing up, and he had thrown up everything he’d tried to eat in the last four hours.

He sat against the cold wall, pulling his knees to his chest and ignoring the chatter coming from the other cell. There were more people in there, all human. Wolves got their own cell, so they didn’t kill anyone if they decided to act up.

The silver bars radiated cold that Cody tried to get as far away from as possible. It was making him feel even sicker on top of the dart that had forcibly crushed his shadow.

He wished he could go back to this morning and warn himself of what he would be going through. To tell him to have a bit more restraint, to just never leave his room in the first place. All he wanted was a bit of sun and fresh air. He slipped out, but the twins noticed and they followed him to the local park, laughing and jeering as they followed him, never catching up to him but never far enough away to ignore.

When he had sighed and turned to face them, they got in his personal space, mocking him and his weak control over his shadow, pushing him around.

Cody wrapped his arms around his knees tighter when the words they said rang in his head. “Awww, are you gonna cry to your family pack? Oh, that’s right! You don’t have one! You’re lucky we agreed to have you here. You know wolves like you get killed just because they can’t control their shadows, right? Bet you’ll be gone within the year. What do you want us to bring to the funeral?”

Cody trembled. It was true. He’d only survived this long because of leaders who rolled his shadow down so the assessors wouldn’t realize how little control he had as a wolf. He had cheated the system to keep living, and it had come back to bite him. He had lost control there in the park, in public. He’d fought the twins and hadn’t been able to calm down until the police got there, called by the terrified humans.

And now he was here, waiting quietly after getting his mugshot and fingerprints taken, hoping the leader of the pack his social worker had placed him in would come to get him. At the same time, he almost hoped Kai would just leave him here forever. He was terrified of what the punishment would be for this. Wolves were only allowed to live with humans in cities based on how well they could control their own people in the packs. Cody losing it in public like that was a strike against wolves as a whole.

What if Kai killed him for it? Cody didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to think that the culmination of his life was just to be lonely, to suffer, and then to die because no wolf spent enough time or energy on him to teach him how to be a wolf himself.

No one would even care if he died. Or, if they did, they would be glad it finally happened.

Cody whimpered, burying his face in his knees, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t take this anymore. Maybe he would be happier if he was dead. Somehow, he couldn’t really believe that.

He looked up as he heard footsteps in the hall, recognizing one of the pairs of steps at Kai’s.

He stood up, staring at the floor as the leader of the pack appeared, two police officers just ahead of him.

One of them unlocked the door and said, “We usually leave this sort of decision up to the packs, but you might want to make some serious decisions about this one. I haven’t seen a pup go so crazy in public like that before. You might want to get him checked for madness.”

“Oh, I will make certain he is handled,” Kai said, his shadow spilling into the cell and hanging threatening around Cody’s feet.

Cody silently stepped forward, trembling. The cops spoke with Kai for a moment before Kai left, his shadow hanging around Cody like an escort.

Cody swallowed hard, trying to keep his breathing soft and careful as tears spilled down his cheeks. He was so scared. He was so scared and he had no idea how to get out of this situation. He just wanted this all to be over, however it ended.

It was dark outside, and rainy.

Kai flipped up his collar against the rain while Cody could only fold his arms as the freezing rain soaked into his t-shirt.

Kai didn’t speak as he walked through the quiet city, the unaffiliated street wolves shying away from his commanding shadow.

Cody could only follow, the rain replacing his tears as a strange sort of numbness descending over him. Emotional exhaustion was familiar to him at this point, and he welcomed it to protect him from whatever came next.

Kai stopped by an alley and gestured for Cody to go down it.

Cody hesitated for a moment too long and Kai grabbed his arm and shoved him down the alley, following him in.

“Do you take me for a fool, pup? We take you in after every other pack in the area kicked you out, and you do this!? Do you know how bad this makes us look!?”

Cody was barely listening, but he nodded anyway.

“It is a wonder that you haven’t been executed before now,” Kai snarled, taking a step forward and backing Cody against the brick wall. “I think it’s about time I do everyone a favor.”

He grabbed Cody by the throat, lifting up against the bricks.

The numbness was gone as quickly as a startled hummingbird. Cody gagged for air, grabbing onto Kai’s wrist and kicking his legs. He was going to die! Kai was going to kill him! Cody tried to beg, but didn’t have enough air to do so.

“What a waste of time an energy on all of our parts,” Kai growled. “Goodbye, pup.”

Kai’s shadow seemed to fill the entirety of the world and pain exploded from Cody’s stomach.

Kai dropped him to the ground, staring down at Cody as the huge gaping wound in his stomach spilled out blood to mix with the rain.

Cody reached his hand out after Kai as the pack leader turned and left him to bleed out.

Cody keened, reaching down to the wound, only to touch things that were never meant to be touched by his own fingers.

He gasped and tried not to gag, afraid that more of his organs would try and come out if he did so.

He realized too late that he wasn’t breathing as stars started around his vision, the edges darkening, and when he tried to get air in, the pain that lanced through his body forced him to shut down.

………………………..

He never expected to wake up, but he did. He woke in a hospital, his stomach sewed up, his organs where they rightly belonged, and wrapped in blankets that only seemed to emphasize how cold he was.

A nurse smiled kindly at him. “Good morning. How are you feeling.”

Cody stared at her before trying to sit up more against the pillows, stopping when his wrists caught on something. He looked down numbly at the straps around his wrists and the nurse tutted. “Sorry dear. Sometimes when wolves wake up it can get kind of scary so we have to be careful. Let me take those off for you.”

She reached over him, careful not to touch him, and undid one cuff, then they other. “I was just checking on you, but I can go get you something if you need. Are you thirsty?”

Cody stared up at her and nodded faintly, folding his hands together.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

The nurse left him alone in the hospital bed, after nearly dying. He turned his head and closed his eyes, lifting a hand to cover his face as he started to cry.

VTB Part 19

@percy-frayer because I know you are curious about Sonder story

[scr-ppup]

Whumper + bear brotherhood terms.

Whumper bear: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a bear; whumper bears.

Whumper wolf: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a wolf; whumper wolf.

Whumper otter: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a otter; whumper otter.

Whumper hunk: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a hunk; whumper hunk.

Whumper Twunk: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a twunk; whumper twunk.

Whumper twink: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a twink; whumper twink.

Whumper pup: a term for someone who identifies as a whumper and a pup; whumper pup.

Supposed to be taken as Whumpous terms; can be used in multiple ways like alterhumanity, presentation, gender, simply alters and such, etc.

Coined 25.4.2025. // Feel free to ignore/ask to be untagged from future posts + this through comments or asks!

Taglist # @radiomogai @obscurian @rwuffles @smilepilled @catonliine

— By the graveyard's keeps; Stray.

archive.today link

Userbox transcript: Remember to check and respect coiners boundaries! Don't repost our terms in public sites such as wikies, Pinterest, etc!/end Transcript. (Userboxes made by headmate, also posted on hampaanirvi.)

[silly-scroimblo-whump]

Could we maybe see some writing from Lucille’s other subjects? There was a reblog that you tagged as Wolf, if I’m correct and that’s an oc could we see some of them? :D

of course! :3

Romulus

masterlist!

cw: magical drugging, kidnapping, violence, brainwashing, magical whumpee, dehumanisation, uh.. oh yeah fighting☝️

--

"Hh-- hey! Let it go!" Renée cries out, grabbing her skateboard and frantically trying to pull it away from the daintily-dressed girl in front of her like an odd game of tug-of-war. She yelps as the girl simply lets go of the board, letting Renée tumble to the floor.

Renée stares up in disdain, rubbing the back of her head. God, she never should've come to the skatepark this late. Her phone was near-dead from playing some stupid puzzle game on the bus ride here, and the rest of the battery has since drained from.. like.. an hour of blaring music?

"The fuck is your problem? I'm not gonna buy anything from you, if that's what you want. I'm broke," She scoffs, turning her pockets inside out as her keys and a couple of coins fall to the ground. Renée watches in annoyance as they roll down a ramp, trying to stand--

A gloved hand falls atop Renée's head. The strange girl coos into her ear, slamming her helmeted head to the ground as she lets out a raspy scream, squirming and blindly swinging fists and kicks towards the girl. A wave of relief washes over her when the hits land on the odd girl's face.

It does nothing. The girl smiles politely, wiping the dirt from her cheek as she firmly cups Renée's mouth with her hand, and--

And..

Renée tries to bite, scream, anything. Not a sound escapes. Instead, a toasty warmth washes over her, like climbing back into bed in the middle of a windy, thundering night. Even as she tries to hold her breath, the girl simply traces a finger down the back of her neck as she slumps forward.

"Shh.. you're okay, my dear." The gentle, chiming voice purrs into her ear, almost intoxicatingly so.

"Who, umm.. what..?" Renée stammers, wide eyes slowly drooping closed as she tilts her head to look up.

"My name is Lucille, but you can call me Lulu, mm? Might be easier for your sleepy little head." The girl -- no, Lucille -- whispers, and Renée's head begins to spin faster and faster, muffled rage bubbling in her throat.

"Your name, mm.. I'll have to think about it." Lucille hooks a collar around Renée's neck, her gentle touch scattering every thought in her new friend's mind.

"Let.. let me go. Please..?" As Lucille removes her hand from Renée's lips, she promptly goes to scratching her scalp with virtually no resistance.

"Mm, I don't think I will. You're a good pet, mm?"

"What... the fuck?" She tries to harden her resolve, spit venomous words in her kidnapper's face, but she can't do more than blink slowly, resting her head in Lulu's hands.

Renée feels something clip to the collar around her neck, a curious hum slipping from her lips as she looks up toward Lulu. As the girl smiles and gently tugs at the leash, Renée's qualms against following fade into the deafening static in her mind.

She staggers after Lulu, glassy eyes shining in the glimmering moonlight.

--

taglist! @gumblegoober @loonybun @whumpsoda @watsonbee (hope u don't mind the @!! ^_^)

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Josh Wolfe, Jericho's primary antagonist and the CEO of Glyph, a mega-corporation that has its fingers in everything from breakfast cereal to car parts to antibiotics.

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 21

“Take me with you”

Failed escape | Stumbling | Too weak to move

The Bee's Whumptember Masterlist

~1080 words

CW: (implied) inhuman whumper, knife to throat, brief passing out, claws, blood, death threat

------------

Whumpee felt the cool steel of a blade pressing into their throat, not quite enough to draw blood, but more than enough to keep their rigid back pinned to Whumper’s chest as the beast’s other arm snaked under their armpit, clawing into their chest with unbelievably sharp nails and barely restrained strength. Whumpee held their arms out shakily to the sides in a show of surrender, stock still so not to agitate the various sharps threatening their bite.

“Seems we’re at a crossroads, then, doesn’t it Leader?” Whumper drawled, eyes flashing. Scientist cowered behind Leader until only their eyes were visible, trembling, staring straight at Whumpee. 

Leader crinkled their nose at Whumper, putting a hand out protectively to shield Scientist while the other leveled at Whumper, blue sparkles and lightning bolts dancing threateningly across their fingers.

“We aren’t here for Whumpee. We’re here for Scientist.” they said through clenched teeth.

All the air left Whumpee’s lungs. “W-wait, wait… Leader, you’re not… You…”

Whumper tilted the blade of the knife upward, and Whumpee’s chin was forced to follow suit. Whumpee felt Whumper’s own chin tilt up in regard to Leader, snarling, teeth bared.

“You would trade the life of one team member for the intellect of another?”

Whumper’s hold momentarily relaxed on Whumpee, but they were too busy fighting off the throbbing in their ears and sudden encroaching darkness at the edges of their vision to take advantage of it.

“Yes.”

The knife hit the ground with a deafening clatter. A quiet growl sounded from Whumper's throat, primal and all-consuming as it rumbled through Whumpee, straight through their bones and into the core of their being. Their claws bore into the soft flesh of Whumpee’s chest, and Whumpee cried out, arms flying up to clutch at the huge arm now squeezing their sternum so hard their ribs may as well just shatter.

“Leader! Leader please!” they screamed, broken out of the stupor that had previously enchanted them, tears mixing into the blood now streaming down their. “Don’t leave me here! I can’t–”

Whumper’s arm tore out and toppled Whumpee to the ground, somehow landing them on their hands and knees at Whumper’s feet. Whumper grabbed their jaw before they could even hope to recover and forced their gaze into their own.

“If you’re going to beg,” they growled, eyes filled with what could have been actual fire. “Do it right. On your knees. Get me my scientist.”

They shoved Whumpee’s face away and Whumpee swiveled around on their knees to face Leader. Leader just stared at them, eyes as steely as if they were still glaring at Whumper, save the slight wince when Whumpee let out a whine. The sparkling magic at their fingertips had turned a dangerous dark purple, still aimed right at Whumper above them. Why hadn’t Leader just left yet?

They strained to face Whumper again, which earned them a kick in the side that made them double over themself, a new wave of dizziness blanketing their consciousness.

“Beg.”

Whumpee forced their gaze back up to Leader, not even bothering to uncurl from their ball of misery.

“Leader,” they wheezed, shuddering. “Y-you can’t just–”

“You knew the risks when you came on this mission, Whumpee. This was always a possibility.”

“I didn’t know, I didn’t know…” Tears dripped off their chin and soaked the floor under them.

“Whumpee,” Leader commanded, as if their very name would convince them that this was the best and only way. They prompted: “The needs of the many…”

Whumpee knew this. Knew this by heart. “... outweigh the needs of the… the few,” they squeaked. Their arms burned. The cold floor bore into their knees. They wanted to go home.

They sobbed to the floor. “Please… Please do-on't leave me. Fight for me. Take me with you”

No answer.

Whumpee looked up. Their breath hitched. The door swung closed softly. They couldn’t tear their gaze away.

Whumper screamed and grabbed them by the scruff, and Whumpee howled out, hands flying up and around to the back of their neck to claw uselessly at the iron grip. Whumper just grabbed their wrists and slammed them face first into the nearest wall, arms pinned above their head while Whumper’s other hand still squeezed into the back of their neck, pulling at their windpipe slightly as Whumpee hunched their shoulders as high as possible to try to accommodate the amount of skin Whumper held within their grasp. Whumpee finally stopped screeching when Whumper pulled them back and slammed their face into the wall once more. They could swear they saw droplets of blood flying through the air as their eyes bulged and they gasped for breath.

“This is all your fault.” Whumper hissed into their ear. “Make this any more difficult for me and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Whumpee nodded as much as they could. Whumper’s hand effectively braced their head from moving much more, squeezing on either side so hard they started to feel lightheaded. 

Whumper let go of Whumpee’s wrists and slammed their head down into the ground. A flash of all colors and a metallic taste shooting silver strings through the top of their mouth, leading straight into the adrenaline fuelled black out filled with nothing but lightning bolts of agony shooting through their body. Their ribs screamed out in agony. And their stomach. And their legs. And everything. They tried to scramble back, but their back hit a wall. The basest of primal urges told them to claw out, to fight back, scratch into whatever was hurting them and don’t stop until it’s dead. But a louder voice screamed at them to just curl up into a ball and take it. Fighting back would only get them killed. Or maybe that was Whumper’s rage-fuelled yelling. Whatever. Whumpee stayed half curled in a catatonic stupor on the floor, and Whumper kept up the assault.

Eventually, the beating must have stopped. Whumpee was pulled to their feet by the back of their shirt. They stumbled and fell back to their knees in a daze as Whumper pushed them forward. Another growl. Intense pressure on the sides of their neck again, pulling them up, pushing them forward. Had their hands always been this red?

“You had better pray to whatever gods your kind believe in that you can fix your enormous botch up.” Whumper snarled in their ear, leading them further into their lair. There was only half a chance Whumpee even heard them.

“Or pray to those gods that you keel over before I’m done with you.”

@whumptember

[chaotic-orphan]

Hi! Can you please write more of The Immortal Hunter? I'm so invested

Hello!!! Yes! Absolutely, I forgot how much I liked this story, I hope you enjoy <3

The Immortal Hunter

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

*~*~*~*~*

They walked in silence except for their shoes crunching off of gravel. That was fine.

Killian had been through enough already today and last night, and Heath didn’t really want him to talk, he just felt like Killian needed to.

Or Killian was going to talk anyways, once he found the right words. There was the taste of anticipation heavy in the air between them, but Heath was fine with basking in the silence for now. Happy to let Killian mull it over as they walked down the archway of trees that lined the driveway to Felix’s estate.

The light was filtering through the tree’s leaves like shattered gem shards of topaz and the birds were chirping in the trees. It was shaping up to be a nice day, and with it, Heath felt a heavy longing for his mortality and let out a soft sigh.

“You…” Killian began, then faltered and stopped when Heath looked at him. “Thank you for everything you did, uh, did for me back there.”

“No problem,” said Heath easily in reply.

Killian spoke again and said: “no. I mean—“ then he sighed and broke off again so Heath stopped walking and turned to face the boy, pulling his little metal cigarette case from his back pocket.

Killian looked at Heath, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheekbones, right above where Wolfe had sliced into his cheek with his claw. Heath focused on the dried blood caked under the wound from the coagulation in his blood as he lit the cigarette between his teeth.

“I feel like “Thank you” isn’t enough for what you did for me.”

“It is enough.”

“No,” Killian protested, meeting Heath’s eyes with his blue ones and then looking away sheepishly, a hand going to the nape of his neck and rubbing it. “It isn’t. You said you would protect my s— my family no matter what happened…”

Heath nodded, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “It’s what I would have wanted someone to do for me.”

“But you meant it…” Killian said, like it was a challenge and a gift much too sentimental and overwhelming for knowing someone for such a short time. “You said you would protect her— even after I didn’t tell you my first name or—“

“Hey, kid. It’s okay,” said Heath, voice gentle as he extended his hand to Killian. Killian looked up at Heath’s face then down at his hand and took it in his. The warmth of Killian’s palm was almost addictive, Heath longed for that comfort. He doubted Killian even valued how much his body worked to make sure it was heated at all times, not too hot, not too cold just perfect human temperature. Heath knew he never appreciated it, not until it was too late.

Something settled over Killian’s features, resolute and accepting as he gave Heath’s cold dead hand a good, firm shake.

Heath smiled softly, a little sadly, then dropped Killian’s hand.

“I was in the same position as you,” Heath continued, turning to walk further away from Felix’s mansion and prying ears. Killian easily fell into step beside him.

“In debt to Felix for family reasons that don’t matter anymore because my family is dead. Felix tried to tell me that before I signed my soul to him, but I refused to listen,�� Heath said, voice turning wry towards the end of the sentence. He shot a smile over to Killian who’s eyebrows were knitted together in sympathy. “Who knew, right?”

Heath took another long inhale of smoke into his lungs, filling his dead tissue husk with the burnt remnants of tobacco. Somehow the two dead things twisted and combining together warmed him and made him feel as close to alive as he was ever going to get.

Except for maybe blood… blood sang to every nerve and muscle and organ in his body, craved it, clung to it and was never satisfied no matter how much or little he drank. The point of satiation would be producing his own blood in his body, like back when he was, y’know— alive, and that wasn’t ever going to happen so yes.

Blood and, a close second, smoking cigarettes, made him feel alive.

Or as alive as he could feel.

He remembered last night. His old knife in his hand, his blood lighting up the runes of the Hunters’ blade. Remembered his heart beating and the blood rushing through his ears like phantom limbs. Remembered the rush of breathlessness as he sunk the blade into Wolfe’s strong body and watched him crumble around it.

Remembered zoning out during the Hunter’s high and crashing back into his body with a wave of nausea and exhaustion hitting him like a truck.

Heath knew he was made to kill vampires, as all Hunters are. As the Immortal Hunter he knew he would spend eternity fighting and killing every last bloodsucker on the planet, protecting humans as best as he could, and when all the vampires would dead, so too could Heath rest in peace eternally.

That was his purpose.

His sole mission.

When Felix killed him he thought that was the end. That he failed and he doomed humanity to endure the vile, ruthless creatures in the night with no protector.

Wolfe yesterday seemed like a test, like the world was trying to figure out if he really wasn’t the immortal Hunter anymore, or if he was.

Heath nearly scoffed at his own thoughts. “Like the world was trying to figure out…” if the world was currently sitting at his dining table enjoying breakfast with Celeste and went by the name of Victor, then yes, as he would like to think of himself it, the world really wanted to answer that burning question, and answer it he did.

It gave Heath something he forgot he ever had.

Hope.

Hope that one day, someday soon, he could repay Felix the favour of death and be able to continue this life without having to suffer sadistic vampire.

Heath paused in his steps, eyes staring at the gravel road in front of him. Killian stopped too, looking over his shoulder at Heath. Heath realised he looked a bit crazy then, so he tapped his cigarette and watched the ashes flutter to the ground, mixing with the wide ranging palette of small grey stones.

The worst part was that Heath remembered. He remembered gripping the knife as Killian helped him to his feet, remembered holding onto it like a lifeline. He pushed Killian away and then tried to take a step and collapsed, and the knife…

“Heath? You okay?”

“Mmm,” Heath grumbled in reply. Maroon eyes finding inquisitive human ones peering back at him.

“The dagger that I killed Wolfe with,” Heath said, tilting his head, “did you see what I did with it?”

Killian turned to face Heath, folding his arms across his chest. “You— well, Felix told me it was part of some ritual you needed to complete.”

Heath let out a huff of breath from his nostrils, shaking his head. “I must have dropped it when I collapsed,” Heath said, taking in a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you hear it clatter?”

“What’s so important about it?”

“It’s — uh, it’s like an extension of the Hunter’s arm. Very sacred, the dagger and the blood of a Hunter are what—“ Heath looked at Killian and smiled, not wanting to get into it in detail. “Sorry. Long story short, it kills vampires.”

Killian frowned. “And Felix had it?”

“Yes,” Heath said with an exhale of smoke, slipping the cigarette between his teeth. “He did. But if you didn’t hear it clatter to the ground then Felix must have it again…”

“I doubt he’s the type to just leave it lying around, even if you did drop it.”

“You’d be right,” Heath said, stretching his hands to sky and cracking his back, letting out a loud satisfied sigh as his wound up muscles loosened and cartilage cracked. “Ah, problem for another day. We can worry about that later.”

Heath started walking down the tree lined drive again with Killian following and falling into step beside him. “How can you be so nonchalant about that? Can’t that knife kill you?”

Heath shrugged. “A lot of things can kill me. That knife is not one of them. It’s the whole point of Hunter’s blood being needed for the dagger to work. Otherwise it’s just a normal knife. If it killed Hunters, it wouldn’t be that useful.”

“But you’re a vampire now,” Killian said, and Heath’s dead heart stuttered at the blatant truth so easily flowing from Killian’s lips. “From what Felix was saying today you, well, it seemed like you should still be human.”

“Mmm, first of my kind. I’m truly unique.”

“Does it not scare you?”

“Death?” Heath asked with a breath of laughter. He stopped waking, took the last pull of his cigarette, down to the butt, close enough for his fingers to feel the burn before dropping it and extinguishing it beneath his shoe. “That’s a bit too philosophical of a topic for a Thursday morning, Killian.”

“No, I mean—“ Heath smiled and put a hand on Killian’s shoulder silencing him.

“I know what you mean, but trust me when I say that there are things worse than death when it comes to Victor Felix. You almost experienced it first hand last night.”

“I… Wolfe attacked me last night, he was the one who took me and tied me up in the basement. He was the one who hurt me and—“

“Felix was the one willing to let Wolfe turn you or torture you to prove a point to me.”

The corner of Killian’s lips turned down into a scowl. “I’m not a pawn to be played in your and Felix’s game.”

“No, you’re not,” said Heath straightening up and taking his hand from Killian’s shoulder, to run it through his hair. “I’m just saying you should be more careful about what jobs you take for Felix.”

Killian went silent after that and Heath didn’t press him further on it as they walked out of the imposing wrought iron gates that sealed the estate away from the local town.

The gates that made it such a formidable foe when Heath was running, trying to escape Felix in the night. Worn and tired, human lungs gasping for air and heart pounding blood and adrenaline to fuel his body. He remembered coming up to see the always open gates shut and padlocked tight with chains.

He remembers shaking the gate and cursing under his breath and then throwing caution to the wind, gripping the iron bars and pulling himself up. He had only got a foot off the ground when a hand tightened in the back of his shirt, clenching the fabric into bunched up cold fist.

Heath froze.

He remembers hearing the low tsk of Felix and the smile in his voice. Felix didn’t do anything else. That small contact was enough to humiliate Heath, show him how powerless he really was.

“You can come back willingly and I promise I’ll only bleed you a little,” Felix purred, voice as deadly as Heath’s vampire slaying blade. He remembers tightening his grip on the bars until his knuckles turned white. Heath pressed his forehead against the cold bars, lamenting his freedom which was right there in front of him. He could’ve reached out and grabbed it.

If he was fast enough.

If he was strong enough.

If he was better.

Heath shuddered out a shaky exhale, feeling less of Felix’s cold dead hands on him. Unnatural hands.

“Or you can do this in your own special way, Heath,” Felix continued, voice almost fond. “In your penchant for raising Cain and really make me work up an appetite…”

Heath let out a pathetic cry of frustration into the night, rattling the gates along with his scream at the gates that were closed to him by Felix, for Felix’s own amusement. He liked his prey to run, he had told Heath that much after he tried to run so many times, told him he liked the high that adrenaline gives to the blood. Makes it sweeter, almost frenzied.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop feeding on you after you pass out if that’s the route you want to take, and you know, I would have to punish you for running away again once you wake up. You’ve been so good for me lately, Heath…” Felix’s fingers walked up Heath’s spine as far as they could and yanked Heath off the gate as if he wasn’t holding on at all.

Heath’s feet had barely hit the ground when in a flash he was pressed against the gate, his cheekbone digging into the metal as Felix rested his now clawed fingers on the nape of Heath’s neck. Heath pushed with all his might and struggled to get Felix off him but Felix didn’t falter. It was as if Heath wasn’t struggling at all.

Felix leaned in and sniffed Heath’s neck, smiling against the thin skin between his major veins and arteries, pumping the blood, the terror, the adrenaline, the life through his veins.

“Hard way it is,” he hummed, yanking Heath off the gates and dragging him away from them, kicking and fighting and screaming. “Dear boy, a chase and a fight and a feast. You’re really spoiling me tonight.”

Heath remembered it like it was yesterday. It feels like it was yesterday. Or maybe it was the fact that even after Felix took his humanity and turned him into an unnatural immortal thing, last night when it came down to it, when it came to Heath being able to protect Killian from Wolfe and Felix’s schemes, he couldn’t do a thing to stop them.

The moment Felix threw a casual arm over his shoulder and wrapped it tight around his torso he knew he couldn’t fight him off, let alone Wolfe.

His humanity, his dignity and his family— all traded for eternity as a leech, and still he was too weak to fight off the sadistic fucker who took everything he loved from him and left him with nothing except misery.

Heath looked at Killian walking beside him and he hated himself because he knew even now that the only reason Killian was walking with him back home, and not still tied up in Felix’s basement, is so Felix could dangle another good thing in Heath’s life to rip away. To leverage against him, to torture him with, to keep him in check and make sure he behaves.

Or else, went unsaid.

Behave or else Killian dies, or gets turned, or something worse that Felix could conjure up in his twisted mind. Heath just knew whatever it was would involve suffering.

And the worst part was that as far as Felix was dangling another good thing in front of him, Heath was too stubborn or too stupid to not take the bait and get in too deep.

Maybe their sick little game was doomed to continue for eternity, with new calamity as collateral with every new generation of humans.

“My home is just…” Killian began, tearing Heath from his thoughts. Killian stopped himself short, glancing over his shoulder at Heath. Heath nodded encouragingly, waiting for the answer for a beat too long before he realised and a smile spread across his face.

Heath nodded again, tilting his head at Killian. “You don’t want to tell me.”

“No,” said Killian after careful thought. “I don’t.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“It is. Can you promise me you’ll get home safe?”

“Yes.”

“Can you promise Felix won’t come after you?”

Killian hesitated. Heath nodded and said, “then I’m coming, kid. Trust me it’s safer for us both.”

“How is it safer for me?” Killian demanded, nostrils flaring stepping closer to Heath, squaring up slightly. Heath grinned showing his fangs and took a small bit of sick pleasure at the slight falter on Killian’s face.

Heath stepped forward, closing the gap, exposing Heath’s clear height advantage and stared down at Killian waiting for him to back down.

Killian didn’t.

Despite it all.

He didn’t back down and Heath couldn’t help let out a soft happy laughter.

Killian frowned. “What?”

“I’m just impressed is all.”

“Thank you?” Killian asked.

Heath shook his head. “Never impress a vampire, Killian. If you listen to anything I say, listen to that. They’re obsessive things. Possessive things. They’ll steal your life to keep you because you’re entertaining.”

“You’re barely a vampire. You’re basically human.”

Heath sighed. “I was never human. I was a hunter, and then I was a vampire. Such is life. Now, you can either agree to show me where you live or I can wait — trust me, immortality gives you great patience — and I will follow you home when you eventually relent to check on your family —“

“Okay!” Killian huffed, throwing his hands up helplessly. “Fine! Why do you want to know so badly anyways?!”

Heath felt his face grow solemn, eyes turning poignant and lips almost pouting.

“I want to make sure Wolfe is dead and not coming for revenge, and I want to make sure Felix doesn’t come and take you away in the night. I don’t even need to go inside, just… let me watch over you tonight, and your family. Keep you safe.”

“I have work in the morning,” Killian said.

Heath shrugged, “then I’ll walk you to work.”

“You can’t protect me every minute of everyday,” Killian reasoned and Heath just shrugged again.

“I can try.”

Killian huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is this another Hunter ritual thing?”

Heath smiled, a small genuine smile. “Yeah, something like that…”

Killian nodded, then turned and started walking. He gestured over his shoulder for Heath to follow and Heath did so in a comfortable silence, listening to the boy as he rambled on about how annoying the walk to work is in the morning, or when it’s raining.

Heath smiled as he spoke, unaware of the figure that was watching the pair between the trees.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[blooming-bruises]

"How much damage have you been authorized to inflict?" Aiden's eyes opened into the barest slits as he heard the man passing him again, anger burning in his chest. He could barely see anything with the degree to which he was squinting, but he could make out the man's vague outline as well as three burning splotches of light.

James paused as he lifted the last lantern to turn it on. He looked over his shoulder at the agent and snorted in amusement.

"There are no limits to what I could do to you, Aiden."

A little preview of the first scene in Daybreak. @waxwings-burning should be posting the full thing soon from Aiden's perspective.

[lovelizards]

thinking about a 'whumpee who cried wolf' who thinks they see whumper in every busy street and crowded bus.

eventually caretaker starts to get frustrated by it, accidentally gaslighting whumpee and insisting that they're projecting their fears because of anxiety. because 'there's no way its actually whumper, he's gone/dead/locked up/etc.'

they don't know how easy it is to stalk someone, to hide in plain sight. no one asks questions about the unfamiliar man in a hi-vis jacket and hoodie lingering near a construction site, or wandering around a busy hospital in scrubs and a face mask.

even so, caretaker refuses to take whumpee's concerns seriously, maybe tensions run high, and they argue. whumpee desperately tries to get caretaker to understand but they won't.

until one day, whumpee doesn't come home.

their phone goes directly to voicemail. they aren't at friends houses, or even any local hospitals.

they've just disappeared, and caretaker realises its all their fault.

[madmarsii]

Wolf and Little Goat

June of Doom 2025 | 9. Hammer

---

“You heard the story, right?” Whumper circled around Whumpee, swinging the hammer playfully. “About the baby goats?”

Whumpee sank deeper into the corner. He didn’t dare to breathe. Didn’t dare to look up.”

“Mother told them not to open the door to strangers. But they didn’t listen. Do you know who was waiting outside?”

Whumpee whimpered, curling in on himself, shoulders hunched like he could somehow disappear into his own body. Every beat of his heart slammed against his ribs, frantic, deafening—a terrified drumroll building toward a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. His breath caught in his throat as Whumper strode closer, his heart hammered faster and faster, so much so Whumpee hoped it might stop and spare him of what was about to come

“A wolf.”

Whumper smiled, his mouth full of sharp teeth. He moved closer to Whumpee, grabbed his wrist and yanked him to the middle of the shed.

Then came the blow, sudden and brutal. Whumpee didn’t even register the swing before agony exploded in his ankle. A white-hot burst of anguish shot through him, short-circuiting his senses. His vision blacked out, then flashed blindingly white as he screamed.

Pain.

This much pain will surely kill him.

“I told you not to run.”

Whumper’s words were in haze.

“I told you there would be consequences—but you had to be just like another baby goat, right?”

Whumpee couldn’t breathe. The pain was overwhelming. Monstrous.

“But we can play this game. Look,” Whumper grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head to the side. “Do you see that box? There’s wolf waiting inside.”

“Please,” Whumpee choked. “No.”

Whumper smiled again, his beastly teeth catching what little light there was . “You should run, little goat.”

---

I only took a little part of the prompt, but the story wanted it that way. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless <3

@juneofdoom

[scrapyard-mutt]

Hybrid whump

[Cw, Animal cruelty references/analogies I think]

• Animal hybrid whumpee having their features removed or "ruined", wings clipped or broken or even removed at the base, horns cracked or cut down to nothing, hooves shattered or shaven nearly off, ears tagged like a dairy cow, beak or claws clipped like a chick in poultry factories

• Hybrid whumpees being rare and sought after, treated like show dogs with docked tails and ears or inhumane conditions, starved, or overworked for an "ideal" appearance and otherwise disregarded and simply put down or the lucky ones auctioned off once they age out of the contest and pageants.

• Hybrids put in contest of physical strength or abilities like race horses or Grey hounds, knowing that once the season or race is over, or even if they just fall to far behind and aren't worth being bet on, they will be killed.

• predator whumper to prey whumpee, a wolf to a rabbit, a lion to a gazelle, a dog to a cat to a mouse. a whumper who doesn't even have to keep whumpee captive, just catches them on the street from time to time, no one takes whumpee seriously because they shouldn't have gone out alone, a predator can't help its instincts, and whumpee could've gotten away.

• hybrids captured and forced cross breeding to create an ideal creature + weapon/shield whumpee

• and of course the usual whump, shock collars, muzzles, declawing, debarking, bad food, small cages, typical animal treatment [sometimes even bleeding into regular day to day life]

I just think you could go a lot of cool directions with it [feel free to add on]

[Also I know show dogs and such typically aren't abused, but I made it less humane for whump]

[whumplump]

Painful Sparks

CW: conditioned whumpee

Whumpee got new flowers the night before. When he opened his eyes the next day, they were already dead. Whumper got rid of them by cutting the stems in half. Beautiful decapitated flowers.

"At least they can still grow back," Whumpee muttered to himself.

He looked down at the paper on the table and went back to drawing. He knew it was forbidden, but it was a hobby he had when Whumper gave him a break, and if he convinced her to draw together, maybe he wouldn't be reprimanded.

Whumper entered the dark, dusty room and headed towards Whumpee. He immediately tried to hide the drawing, but she had already seen it. She sat next to him calmly.

“What is that?" she asked.

"I was just... I was drawing..."

She snatched the paper from his hands and looked at it. It was a cute little drawing of three little sheep in a row. She stood still for a long moment, staring at the small figures. She chuckled. She took the pen from Whumpee's hands and drew a wolf running after the sheep. Below it, she drew two more; the third had turned into a glass of milk.

“Sheepy, sheepy…” she muttered under her breath as she drawed and chuckled again.

Whumpee chuckled back nervously. Whumper stopped and turned her head towards him, now expressionless.

“To the corner," she ordered.

He obeyed. He went to the corner of the room and knelt on the floor, facing the wall. Whumper came up behind him to speak in his ear.

"Don't you ever do that again without my permission," she said and carelessly tossed the paper with the drawing to him. “I'm too tired to whip you. Stay right there and think about what you did."

“Yes, Master…”

And she left.

[spinelesswhump]

Origin story (aka whump intro)

Hello hello y’all I’m Orion (they/them)

Very excited to introduce myself to the whump community! After reading whump for years, I finally wanted to take a stab (hehe) at writing some of my own. You can expect to find OC whump here soon, but soon is ~relative~ because things need editing first. I might be slow to interact while I’m learning how to navigate tumblr. Feel free to recommend whump, ask questions, etc, or just say hi. I don’t bite I swear :D

Some blogs I’m currently obsessed with:

@friendlylocalwhumper's The Cycle series - I'm so invested in this it's a problem, I've re-read other fics many times also

@thewhumperinwhite's The Winter King's Ward - Fantasy, royalty whump, I was so excited to see it got recently updated

@whumpacabra's Freelancers (esp Dogs of War AU and The Wolf and the Hare AU) - Military setting, escape, the tension is great

@chaotic-orphan's Intoxicating Fear - Lovely mind control in hero/villain setting

@hcnnibal's A1/A2 - Amazing art and fascinating characters

Tropes I lean toward (reading + writing): vampire whump, villain whump, captured royalty, bbu, eldritch monsters, carewhumpers, whumper turned caretaker, recovery, muzzled

[inhurtandincomfort]

WHUMPER REVIEW! Let's begin, in order of relevance

"I might make a post going into more detail on each of Eldwins whumpers. Bc idk how much you guys know but I just make a lot of shit up as I go along lmao, but now I'm doing the full story I want to really solidify the facts and settle on who they are."

CLYDE FAREWELL is Eldwin's owner, the one who bought Eldwin over eight years prior to Forsaken. Although strictly speaking Eldwin should be turned in and executed, it's technically not illegal to keep him as a pet or a slave, and with Clyde being the heir to an incredibly wealthy and influential noble family, who run the Black Syndicate to boot, he has more than enough power and political sway to pull the relevant strings and claim legal ownership. (In the same vein, slavery in general is supposed to be illegal in Aenora, but... it happens and everyone turns a blind eye, especially with so many other issues to worry about.)

From the moment he made the pact, Eldwin had no legal standing, no human rights, he gave up everything. He is an outlaw:

"An outlaw, in its original and legal meaning, is a person declared as outside the protection of the law. In pre-modern societies, all legal protection was withdrawn from the criminal, so anyone was legally empowered to persecute or kill them. Outlawry was thus one of the harshest penalties in the legal system. In early Germanic law, the death penalty is conspicuously absent, and outlawing is the most extreme punishment, presumably amounting to a death sentence in practice. "

"In the common law of England, a "writ of outlawry" made the pronouncement Caput lupinum ("[Let his be] a wolf's head"), equating that person with a wolf in the eyes of the law. Not only was the subject deprived of all legal rights, being outside the "law", but others could kill him on sight as if he were a wolf or other wild animal.[citation needed] Women were declared "waived" rather than outlawed, but it was effectively the same punishment.[1]"

In Forsaken, Clyde is Eldwin's owner, or "guardian" and thus holds all legal rights over him. Eldwin doesn't get a say in anything, and neither does anyone of importance bat an eye at Clyde's treatment of him. There is one caveat; if it's decided Clyde can't maintain adequate control over the dangerous warlock, or is being too nice to it, Eldwin may be removed from his hands. Normally, this would mean death. In Eldwin's particular case, this would mean being rendered full-time to a government lab as a secret weapon and aether source.

However, this doesn't mean Clyde is awful because he has to be. Indeed, he enjoys tormenting Eldwin and the feeling of having control over him, particularly as Eldwin should be powerful in his own right. It is a combination of stress-relief from feeling trapped in his life, and even jealousy. Clyde was born aetherless:

Some people are born without aether. While the effects are not as severe as they would be in someone who ran out, being born without aether will still affect your quality of life. Such people experience higher rates of depression, have weaker immune systems, and are more likely to develop a chronic illness. Aether is in itself a sort of lifeforce; you can survive without it, but you'll always feel as though something is missing.

Magic in Aenora, whilst not legally reserved for the wealthy, the required schooling is so expensive that in practice, nearly every mage comes from wealth. The fact that Eldwin, who comes from nothing, naturally has so much aether and Clyde, from a noble family, suffers a lesser quality of life because he was born without, subconsciously makes him furious. By right of birth, Clyde should have everything; but this, money cannot buy.

It's not that Clyde ever wanted to practice magic; it's that he always feels something is missing, and that he looks down on Eldwin, from a "low-born family" has a gift he couldn't even afford to legally use.

Having power over Eldwin gives Clyde a feeling of control he lacks elsewhere in his life. And with legal ownership, he has every right to treat him the way he does - it may even be encouraged.

Eldwin loathes Clyde, but also sees him as a protector from the world at large. Clyde likes to hurt him, and lets other people hurt him, but Eldwin believes that despite that, what he has going on with Clyde is better than what he would have elsewhere. For all his suffering, he is grateful to Clyde for saving him from what he deems a worse fate.

NELS BARBARY is Eldwin's Handler, the one who has charge of him when Clyde isn't around and the one in charge of his non-magical training. Is loyal to Clyde and will do what he asks, even if he doesn't always agree. He is a firm believer in the power of pain and fear as a teacher. His training is harsh and his punishments cruel, but he never punishes just for the sake of it. He doesn't enjoy his work, but isn't upset by it either - except maybe once or twice.

Nels does sometimes feel some sympathy for Eldwin, whether that's because of his own history as a child soldier or because he thinks of his own kids. Still, he never lets it interfere with his job, separating his work life from his personal life. Being raised for the military, he is disciplined, strict, stoic and expects the best from Eldwin at all times. Any failure, any sign of weakness, is not taken lightly.

He is Eldwin's favourite. Eldwin looks up to him! He respects him as a figure of fairness, and fears his disappointment far more than he fears any actual punishment.

JOWAN BELL is the doctor and scientist with full authority over Eldwin's health, and authority to perform unethical experiments to further their goals. He may not actually have a reason for everything he does other than the eternal question of "what if?" But, he is careful with Eldwin, knowing the limits of healing and resurrection. Jowan is the first to successfully harvest aether from a living being - while keeping them alive - and successfully recreated Azura.

Jowan always wears a mask of cheer and friendliness, sometimes overbearing in his attempt to compensate for the emptiness he truly feels. He does genuinely want to help people, but lacks morality in his pursuit of knowledge, and in indulging his curiosities. He believes sacrifices must be made for the good of the world.

He is hardly intimidating with his small stature and (attempted) pleasant façade, but despite that Eldwin would freely admit Jowan scares him, believing there are no lines he wouldn't cross in the name of "science" or self-indulgence. Still, he acknowledges Jowan's competence - and believes him to be easy to manipulate, to an extent.

VOR'GOL is the Infernal being Eldwin made a pact with. He likes to toy with Eldwin and torment him, although after so long it's gotten a little boring. A daemon lord has better things to do, you know...

His true abilities and intentions largely remain a mystery. Though terrified at first, over the years Eldwin has grown complacent, and thinks of Vor'gol more as an annoyance than a serious threat. Still, it would do him well keep up his guard.

MORDWEN is Eldwin's magic tutor. A powerful sorceress specialising in forbidden magic, she is a necromancer and a healer, of a sort; she "heals" by rewinding time in a small area. This process is about as painful as the actual injury, with the added discomfort of it being reversed.

She is generally apathetic, lazy and eternally bored. She is a strict teacher, and doesn't care for Eldwin in the slightest. It is very clear that she's just here for a job, nothing more, nothing less. Surprisingly, she seems to get along with Jowan.

Despite her having as little involvement as she can get away with, Eldwin fears her more than anyone, knowing he is no match for her. She doesn't care.

ALISTAIR FAREWELL is the leader of the Black Syndicate, and Clyde's father. The two do not particularly get along. In regards to Eldwin, Alistair usually only gets involved when neither Clyde nor Nels are around. He takes a different approach. He doesn't need to be overly violent, although he certainly isn't above it; rather, he views Eldwin as someone lonely, desperate for any sort of praise and affection - someone easy to manipulate. When everyone around him is so cruel, it's easy to gain his favour with just a few nice words.

Clyde is convinced Alistair is trying to steal Eldwin from him to spite him. In truth, Alistair just views Eldwin as a valuable asset, and likes to keep his options open, hold the cards. It's not like it requires any real effort on his part to get him on side.

Eldwin doesn't wholly trust Alistair - you don't get to his position by being nice. And it's unnerving how he just seems to know everything, like he sees right through you. Still, Eldwin can't deny he likes hearing his praise.

BONUS: AMELIA DOVEMORE

Amelia, known to Eldwin only as Lady Dovemore, is a noble woman who kidnapped and sold Eldwin when he was fourteen years old. He wasn't the only one; she runs a whole trafficking ring from which many powerful people buy from her - mostly children, but not all. This, in turn, means she has a lot of powerful people in her pocket who don't want the public to know what they get up to.

As far as the public are concerned, she is a kind and generous woman who does a lot for charity and helping those less fortunate.

Despite not having seen her since he was sold, Eldwin still hates her more than anyone, and vows to burn down - literally and metaphorically - her entire estate, her name, everything she's built.

[sacredwrath]

P17. A Crack In The Mask

Finally! Sorry this took so long heh

Past torture discussed, beating, ptsd flashback, unreality, thinking caretaker is whumper

For a second Jesse doesn't recognize him.

Their stomach flips, did Logan bring back the wrong man?

He's half naked, chained to the wall, with a brutal tapestry of wounds covering his body. They can't look at it.

They didn't think this through. Didn't think it would be this bad- how had Logan-

But then he looks up at them, greasy hair falling away from his face, and he grins. Definitely the right man

“Jesse!” There's a new rasp to his too cheerful voice but it still makes their blood run cold and their muscles sieze in fear.

This was a mistake

“Come on in. Don't worry,” he gives his chains a vicious tug “I can't hurt you anymore. Not like this.” he grins like a wolf over a fresh kill. As if he needs his hands to do damage

Jesse tries to swallow but their mouth is too dry. They're sure he can hear the painful click of their throat. They lick their lips instead and try again

“Morgan.” Their voice is little more than a whisper but at least it's steady.

“Jesse.” He repeats not quite mocking

They stare at him. How can this be the same man? His eyes are black and swollen, lips bleeding. Dark bruises and what looks like scratches circle his neck and are scattered across his torso, ribs, and thighs. His lower legs are bandaged from ankles to knees but blood seeps through in places. He's covered in blood, dirty with it. Most has dried into brownish smears but some still glistens red and wet.

They'd wanted to see him like this. Hoped seeing him helpless and afraid would make them feel safe again, but even beaten bloody and chained to the wall he doesn't look afraid.

They still feel afraid

“So…” he says, too casually. “What brings you here? I've been asking about you, but your friends have been… evasive.”

“I wanted to see you.” good. Steady and calm, still quiet, but they sound more in control than they feel. They can't show him weakness

“I told them you would. The idiot blonde, what's his name?”

They scoff “you think I'd resist telling you all those months just to give up and start giving out names now?”

He shrugs, “things change.” He rattles the chains again. “If you don't want it getting back to my bosses you can just kill me.”

“Don't think I won't.”

“Oh I know you would. And if not you, the idiot blonde definitely will. Is that why you're here? Alone? Don't want the idiot to claim your kill?”

“No- I-” why are they here? They wanted to see him, yes, but alone? In secret? It's not wrong to want to see him. Is it? Standing here now the whole endeavor seems insanely stupid. Why would they come down here without backup? They should have just been firm with Logan and Isa. Should have told them they were coming down here like it or not, but they were afraid they'd stop them. Stupid! They aren't ready for this. They want to leave him hanging. Walk right out the door and never hear his fucking voice or see his wolfs grin again. But now that they're here it's like their legs are made of lead. Anchored to the spot, too heavy and weak to carry them from the room.

“You came down here to rough me up a little didn't you?”

They recoil at the suggestion. “What! No!”

He raises an eyebrow “Don't be embarrassed. It's only natural.”

Natural? They'd thought it'd be cathartic at least, to see him like this, but then why do they feel so nauseous?

“You fucking heros I swear to god!” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Every time the idiot beats me he looks sicker than I do. It's honestly pathetic. You'd think after years of sending us to those damn prisons you'd all be used to getting a little blood on your hands.”

They don't know what to say

His expression darkens, carefree grin turning to a sneer “You really don't want to? After everything I did to you?” He hesitates “You didn't forget, did you? You do remember what I did to you?”

“Stop it” they can't think about it. Not here. Not in front of him. It's taking everything they have not to remember it. To remind themself that now he's the one in chains.

“You remember how many times I beat you? Whipped you? Broke your fingers? Remember when I pulled your fingernails off? When I broke your leg? Remember begging me not to?” He puts on a whiny falsetto “oh please Adrian please don't do it, please stop.”

“Stop” they mimic, quieter, knowing they're giving him exactly what he wants.

“That's it.” He croons.

They're going to cry. They can feel it. A choking hot coal in their throat burning the back of their eyes. Shit. They reach out for the wall trying to steady themself. Remembering to slow their breathing

“That's it.” He purrs again, “slow breaths.” He matches their pace with his own loud breathing. Eyes bore into them, but his voice is still gentle “Remember how it felt when I whipped you. Remember feeling your skin tear open. The pain. Feeling like it's going to rip you apart? Like the shock alone might kill you? Do you remember how it felt begging me to stop and knowing I wouldn't?” They remember. Of course they do. They still feel the phantom pain in their body every time they move or breathe. “And after all that, you really don't want to hurt me? Give me a taste of my own medicine?” He waits for them to say something but they can't focus, burning tears welling in their eyes.

“Tell me the truth!” He barks, voice taking on the exact tone they're used to.

They snap. They aren't in the basement anymore. He isn't the one chained to the wall. He's standing over them as they're huddled on the floor.

He's going to hurt them.

He is hurting them.

They feel the whip against their back, their leg breaking, remembered agony mixing with the real lingering pain.

He's laughing at them. Watching them writhe on the floor soaked in their own blood and tears.

“That's it Jesse. There you are. This is what I made you-”

The cell door slams open

“It must be so exhausting.” his voice rising to a scream “pretending for your little friends. Pretending you're the same person who went away. Pretending you're still a person at all- oof”

Jesse is screaming, or are they? They can't hear themself over the panic in their head. Everything feels like it's happening in slow motion.

The wet thump of fists on a body

Jesse can't remember where they are.

Are they being beaten again?

It hurts

They open their eyes. Across the room Morgan's legs give out. His feet scrabble at the floor desperately trying to regain his footing. Logan's screaming in his face, something unintelligible, far away.

There's blood everywhere, so much blood. They feel it on their skin. On their face, wetness, maybe it's tears. They shrink further into the corner, whimpering in terror, each blow feels like it's landing on them.

Blood flies from Morgan's lips spattering across their face

Like they're in a dream they reach up to touch it. Their fingers come away red

Morgan is staring right at them. Their eyes lock and his face suddenly feels inches from their own.

Something shifts and it's like they're seeing him for the first time

Black swollen eyes, red stained lips contorted into a snarl of pain he's trying desperately to control.

He yelps, a short sharp sound, and they watch the mask crack, revealing a flicker of terror so raw and familiar it feels like their own.

For a second it's like they're seeing into him.

His sneer brittle and sloppily plastered on to cover the lapse. Hollow laughter forced out instead, sharp with broken edges. The mask meticulously crafted to appear care free forced over something worse, something broken.

They've been reading him wrong all this time

This man was never strong. Never the confident powerful figure they'd grown to fear. It's suddenly so obvious they feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Everything about him, the nonchalance, exaggerated to an almost cartoonish level. Of course none of it was real. They couldn't see the mask till they saw it crack but now they can see the creature underneath

Pain, fear, hopelessness, perfectly mirroring back to them every feeling he inflicted. It makes them sick

“STOP IT!!” they scream hands flying up to cover their ears. Its too much, they cant stand it anymore. If he won't scream they'll start.

They shriek it over and over

It's him it's them they can't tell where they start and he ends

Logan looks at them. blood dripping from his fists his face alive with fury. they cower from him. Cringing away every muscle in their body rigid with the terror behind Adrian's eyes. A cornered animal with nowhere to run they wait for the blows, but Logan is frozen.

Their screams turn to panicked sobs and Adrian starts laughing. It grates across their ears, different than before. No longer the alien sound of a mad man but the brittle hollow screech of already shattered glass. No less mad, but this time they feel it. They've been there, they've felt that same madness, trapped, alone, hurting, trying to fight off the pain in the only way they can

They want to be sick but instead try to gather themself and look up to meet his eyes. “I see you Adrian Morgan” their voice empty. As hollowed out as his own.

The smile twists from his face into a snarl of pure hate.

And then Isa is there. Strong arms wrapping around them. Gentle hands combing through their hair. Soft words that Jesse can't hear as they guide them to shakey feet and usher them from the cell

They turn back, giving Adrian a final look. Rage, contempt, pain, longing, disgust, all twisting his face into a mask of itself so false and confused it's impossible to separate from the face beneath.

They look away, letting them themself be pulled from the cell.

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Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them @kiichu @whatwhump @jay--o @starsick1979 @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @syncopein3d @fuckcapitalismasshole @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @mannerofwhump @randomfixation

[serickswrites]

What about vampire! Whumpee and werewolf! Whumpee meet fae! Whumper

[I'm very obssesed with the paranormal again]

I can definitely write this for you. I've definitely written a couple of pieces like this. Please enjoy!

Warnings: pursuit, physical violence, blood, biting

Whumpee cursed as they ran. Why did tonight, of all nights, have to be moonless? Why did they have to run into a vampire tonight? Whumpee would have killed to be able to transform, to call on their wolf and outrun the vampire.

Unfortunately tonight was a new moon and Whumpee was left completely mortal.

Whumper, on the other hand, used the darkness to their advantage. They circled Whumpee, slowly leading Whumpee to exactly where they wanted to strike. It was so easy. So terribly easy. They would feast on werewolf blood tonight and grow even more powerful.

"NO!" Whumpee screamed as Whumper pounced on them, throwing them to the ground. Though Whumpee was in their human form and mortal, they couldn't give up without a fight. They struggled violently in Whumper's grasp.

"Hold still. I'm not trying to kill you," Whumper growled. "I just need a quick sip. Just to be sure."

"UNHAND ME!" Whumpee screamed as they thrashed in Whumper's grasp.

Whumper slapped Whumpee across the face, stunning Whumpee momentarily. Whumper stretched Whumpee's long neck out to the side, their mouth watering at the sight of the unmarred flesh. "So delectable."

Whumper struck, their teeth biting down, releasing the hot blood that lurked beneath Whumpee's skin. Whumpee screamed as blood flowed from the wound. Whumpee's struggles became weaker and weaker as Whumper drank. They hadn't had blood so pure in so long. They had to drink more. Had to become stronger. Had to become the strongest. And this was the best way to do it.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat @sowhumpful

[i-eat-worlds]

The Wolf and His Flock

Behold the fruits of rp-ing with @whumpacabra over the past year or so! It will hopefully be updating fairly regularly. I think we’ve both really enjoyed this, and so we’re exited to share it with all of you!

Content: Living weapon, medical whump, caretaker new whumper, recovery, action/adventure, Angst, implied past rape and abuse

AO3 Link HERE!

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps@rainydaywhump@oc-writing-corner @painful-pooch

@rainbowsandwhumperflies @snaillamp