#blood theft

[whumpsmith-participates]

Medwhump May 2024

Day 19 - Blood loss

TW: blood, exsanguination, background character death

@medwhumpmay

Fetch loved blood. He'd always had a fascination with it; from the arteries and vessels that acted as a superhighway, to the roles of individual blood cells. The information you could get from a person's blood, ranging from whether they ate enough vegetables or got enough sun, down to the deepest details of their DNA...if you had the right equipment.

His admiration for one of the most important structures in any living being wasn't too strange on its own, but people did begin seeing red flags when they learned he was also enamoured with the feeling of blood; texture, temperature and consistency.

Erick was used to it by now. Sometimes after drawing blood, Fetch would simply stop and just take a second to feel his victim's blood rub between his fingers. If he didn't expect for them to survive, he might even take his gloves off to really feel it, hold his hand up to the light to take a good look, bring his hand closer to his face to smell it... Sometimes it even seemed like he wanted to taste it, but he never did. That would be unsanitary. The amount of diseases that could transfer that way were almost fascinating on their own, and definitely something he wanted to avoid.

While organ theft was the most profitable, and Fetch got to be a surgeon again, they weren't at the top of his favourite jobs list. No, the number one favourite was reserved for any jobs or assignments involving exsanguination, where he didn't have to worry about his victim's survival, because they weren't supposed to live through it.

When he had no deadline, he liked to take his sweet time too. A person can bleed out entirely in as short as five minutes — But not when Fetch is involved. No, he could stretch the process for weeks or even months if he got the chance. Taking little bits of blood at a time, selling units on the black market to turn a larger profit than the job paid in the first place.

Erick had come to learn that he hated these kinds of jobs in particular. He could barely stand to look at the victim, knowing very well that it could've been him tied to that chair with a needle in his arm. Not getting to see daylight for weeks on end, forced to eat iron-rich foods to help replenish what they'd lost. Being told that they would live so long as their blood was worth something, while also knowing they were just prolonging the inevitable.

Frankly, Erick was a little bit surprised Fetch hadn't gotten bored with the poor man yet, even when he left the majority of the care to Erick, leaving the teen to feed, water, and even bathe the poor man. He didn't have the strength to move around too much anymore, so they'd gotten to the point of using catheters and sponge baths.

Erick tried his best to let the man maintain some dignity, procrastinating on the baths until after Fetch had left, and making sure to dry him off properly so he wouldn't get cold, and finishing it off by making sure he was properly covered again once he was done, before getting started on an even worse task; giving him food and water.

He begged, he always begged. First to be let go, promising not to tell anyone. He tried to bargain, offering money and whatever else they could ask for. And finally, he began begging for death, to just end his suffering. Erick considered it sometimes, but in the end he was more scared of how Fetch would react than the morality of taking someone's life. So he just explained that it wasn't up to him, and then coerced him to eat by explaining he would get in trouble too if he couldn't finish his chores.

It worked for a while, and the man's good behaviour was eventually rewarded when his wish was finally granted. One morning, while Fetch was setting up to collect blood again, he realised something was off.

"Erick, hand me the thermometer," he ordered.

Erick looked through Fetch's things before finally finding the thermometer and bringing it over. It was the in-ear kind, giving him results fast. Fetch sighed as he looked at the display.

"He's spiked a fever."

"And that means?" Erick slowly asked.

"Fever suggests infection, infection means the blood is no good," Fetch explained, "most of the blood I've taken from this guy has been going straight into recipients. It's not safe to keep selling."

"So...what are you going to do?" Erick asked.

"I guess it's time to clean up," Fetch said with a shrug, "though, I gotta make a mess first."

Erick's stomach churned uncomfortably as he glanced at the terrified-looking captive.

"Can you make it quick, sir?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Fetch just said, "come give me a hand."

Erick hesitated with a slight groan, not exactly feeling very enthusiastic about helping Fetch murder someone slowly and probably also painfully. Fetch didn't seem impressed with his lack of enthusiasm either, gesturing for the boy to come closer. Erick reluctantly did so, expecting to be in trouble already. And sure enough, once he got close enough, Fetch grabbed a tight hold on his jaw, forcing him to look at the victim.

"You wanna take his place, kid?" Fetch hissed.

Erick tried to shake his head, but Fetch just yanked his head and forced him to look back at him.

"Well?"

"N-no, sir," Erick quickly said.

"Then just fucking do as I say," Fetch grumbled, letting him go with a shove.

Erick stumbled a bit, but managed to stay on his feet and proceeded to quietly help Fetch. They freed their captive from his chair, only to tie his feet next and suspend him from the ceiling. Erick taped his hands behind his back, wincing a bit at how uncomfortable he looked, but his suffering would be over soon...hopefully.

"This is how they drain animals too," Fetch said, readying a large knife.

"D-do I have to stay for this?" Erick asked.

"Yeah, I need you to clean up while I take the trash out," Fetch said, "now stop whining, or I'll force you to make the cut."

"Y-yes, sir," Erick said, though he at least looked away when Fetch made the cut.

The victim's muffled screaming was abruptly cut off as his throat was slit open, the eerie silence soon filled with a distinctive dripping sound.

"You're probably gonna need a mop," Fetch said.

"...I want a raise."

"I don't pay you."

"Maybe you should."

"Or maybe I should rub your face in that blood."

"I'm getting the mop," Erick said with a sigh.

"That's what I thought," Fetch said, glaring after the teen.

RIP background character, you were a means to an end. Also RIP Erick's attempt to negotiate fair compensation.

Masterlist Main account

Taglist for the dynamic duo: @lavndvrr

[repulsedrook]

blood theft has occurred, hopefully the blood gets approved this time

[katabay]

PERCEVAL THE UNHAPPY, THE MISERABLE, THE UNFORTUNATE, THE FISHER KING!

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

ALRIGHT alright. so previously I did an illustration that explained the premise of all this, that it's inspired by the narrative choices that Bresson made in his film Lancelot du Lac etc

to dive in more into it (because this is something like derivative fiction. I'm putting concepts into a blender and seeing what comes out of it): the setting is haunted by the previously existing narratives that started cannibalizing each other until it regurgitates itself into the more well known narrative beats, and something else about the invasive rot of christianity and empire mythmaking into settings. it's an intertextual haunting, if you will! and this scene takes place during the grail quest narrative, but the temptation of Perceval plays out differently.

in both Chretien (and Wolfram's) Perceval narratives, what 'wakes' Perceval up (in more ways than one. desire and self actualization in one go!) is seeing knights, something his mother tried hard to keep him from. so instead of the temptation of lust & etc in the Morte narrative taking the form of a lady, it takes the form of a knight. the temptation to renounce one's faith to serve something else remains.

so Perceval still stabs himself, but instead of continuing on the grail quest in the shadow of Galahad, he becomes the narrative's Fisher King because his earlier state of being as a the grail quest hero is creeping back into his marrow. it was waiting for an opening, and stabbing yourself in the thigh is one hell of a parallel!!!

that wound isn't going to heal buddy, and the state of the setting will now be reflected on your body. sure hope that Arthur hasn't like. corrupted the justice of the land or anything. that sure would suck for your overall health.

all the red in this sequence is because in de Troyes' Perceval, Perceval takes the armor of the Red Knight and becomes known as the Knight in Red.

and now for the citations, which I will try to order in a way that makes sense!

Seeing Knights For The First Time

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

The Temptation of Perceval

Le Morte Darthur, Mallory (modernized by Baines)

The Fisher King, and Perceval The Unfortunate

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

On Perceval and Gender, etc.

Clothes Make The Man: Parzival Dressed and Undressed, Michael D. Amey

On Wounds

Wounded Masculinity: Injury and Gender in Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte Darthur, Kenneth Hodges

The Red Knight

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

On Arthur and the Corruption of Justice

The Failure of Justice, the Failure of Arthur, L.K. Bedwell

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Noahfinnce joined my school’s show choir. We caught a girl who was illegally stealing people’s blood Scooby-Doo style. I woke up and cried.

[tapeworrmart]

Headache

[herasoufleeart]

Mini Trevor 💖 Alt colours :

[daekiyu]

trikey doodle dump……🤓

[yank-a-ton]

Comissioned @avockado !!!! So damn happy with the result. My favorite bloodied up bank robbin' movie producer

[fearmeeeee]

the need to only post finished art im 100% proud off and fits the aesthetic of my account vs the fact I have no time or energy to finish anything and I scribble 793834293748349734 ideas that just never see the light of day and I'd like to share actually

[bengallemon]

BLOOD WARNING

(probably click for better quality)

(kofi in bio)

part 2 of feral criminal siffrin! All the blood in this piece is oxygenated because of their scarlet colour btw :)

some ideas for the au is. aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.... murder..... incredibly graphic acts of violence.... kissing boys..........

I'll be back with silly sketches. And writing.

[trisshawkeye]

Brother Guan, you take the role of the hero. I'll play the lesser man.

[latexwife]

THERE IS SOMETHING IN THE FORESTS OF SAN ANDREAS.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Fucked Up Soul

🩸 Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, boys panicking, mentions of biting, blood, cursing, weaponry, allusions to past abuse, allusions to lots of past trauma, omega Tom bff, underwear theft, sneaky texts, Tom being a saint, boys in denial, enemies to lovers, pouty boys, mentions of masterbation, unhelpful blockers, both boys being cum goblins 💣 Rating: mature

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

Dom was still trembling by the time he reached his flat. Once or twice he thought about finding a stray asshole Alpha and working his urges out but somehow even though he'd been near to breaking before he met the man, his need for release wasn't as strong. If he went too long between kills it started to effect him deeply. His chest would tighten, his vision would tint red, his mood would edge to uncontrollable anger, and he found it almost impossible to control his outburst. Normally having his night interrupted would destroy his so small fuse but after what he'd done he felt his desperation calmed. Even with the confusion and self hatred burning in his veins and through his thoughts. He'd always heard how helpful a sexual release was but he'd never believed it. Not before that damn omega.

He was still wound up, he couldn't help it. Everything he'd fought against for so long was now in question. All the things he prided himself on were tossed out the bloody window and he'd never expected that. He'd popped a fucking knot and tried to scent an omega. He'd licked his face as if it were a claim. He spied on the guy, though he couldn't be completely upset at himself for that. Stalking and voyeurism was part of the job. But this felt… filthy because it felt so fucking good.

His hand shook as he unlocked his front door and the moment he was inside he slammed it closed before resting against the wood to try to calm his racing heart and mind. His wrist throbbed though the wound had already closed but something felt off as he stood there. His home was his safe place- as safe as a sociopathic Alpha could find, and while he was used to spying on others he wasn't accustomed to feeling… watched. Not alone. He couldn't shake it.

“Are those yours? Interesting update to your wardrobe.” A voice sounded from further inside the flat, making Dom jump. He scanned the room and his predator level vision saw through the darkness well enough to find the lump of blankets on the sofa that was his omega roommate and best friend. Bollocks. He'd planned to give the man a verbal lashing but it appeared the photographer wasn't feeling well.

It took his ADHD riddled brain a moment to circle and catch up before he remembered the boxer briefs tucked in his pocket. Oh. “Not mine.” His own voice was still a growl but he couldn't help it. He just sighed and pushed himself off the door to join his friend in their living room. He started to sit before realizing he had far too much energy buzzing through him and instead he paced in front of the prone man.

After a moment Tom pushed the blankets off and sat up, revealing he'd been working on his tablet under the covers. He was rarely without some kind of electronic. Those normally comforting silver eyes went wide before his nose wrinkled and his sharp brow arched high enough Dom wondered if he was in trouble. “What did you do? You smell like-” His voice cut off and he cleared his throat, his gaze searching the Alpha in front of him. He was so close that the scent of him was overpowering but while the killer smelled of blood it wasn't enough to say Dom’s night was normal. Well... His normal.

A small scoff escaped Dom but he tried to control himself. “Wha’? An omega? Do I smell like a bloody omega Tom?”

“Don't take that tone with me. If you yell at me I won't hesitate to kick your arse out. I am not in the mood for your shite.”

Dom glared down at his best friend and his fists clenched at his sides, making the omega drop his gaze. Tom gave him a good once over before his lips parted in surprise, whatever he thought he saw made him sit up straighter. “Tha’ mark you investigated so well? Tha’ Alpha you sent me to take out? Tha’ job you said you did so much research on? A fucking omega.” Dom paused and took a breath before he went off all over again and his feet started moving under him to pace the floor. “A bloody fucking omega on blockers! A mob boss omega! A feral fucking arsehole, gun toting, wet, pretty, drug using, twat! Tha’ weren't in ya bloody files?”

Tom pursed his lips to fight a smile as he shook his head. He wanted to make a joke but he knew better. The hitman would die before hurting him but he never wanted to add to his stress. Dom was his hero and his dumbarse best friend. He just never thought he'd see him like that. “That wasn't in my research. If Colson Baker is an omega then no one knows. He's deep in hiding but I'm not sure how if he's walking around smelling like you do right now. You know I check everything. I would never send you after one knowingly. I take it you got along?”

Dom couldn't stop himself from growling. He knew the signs of their fight was visible all over himself. Blood and sweat and… oh. Oh no. He was covered in cum and a pair of slick wet underwear was tucked in his pocket. Well it was a damn good thing he didn't feel shame. A shock of annoyance rushed through him instead and he pulled the boxers out of his pocket to wave in front of the omega. “Wha's it mean?” His voice went high and the corner of Tom's lips twitched. If he laughed Dom thought he might scream.

Tom covered his nose and leaned back further on the couch. He was going through his own cycle and the stench of omega and spent Alpha so close was just too much. “I think it means you made a friend. Congrats. Did you leave him alive?” He already knew the answer.

All the fight went out of Dom at the query and he dropped his arms, sighing as he stared down at the other man. “Course. Can't kill a ‘mega. Twat bit me and ‘en ‘ad a wank in ‘is shower.”

“Which you know because…?”

Dom's eyes went wide and if Tom didn't know better he'd think he was blushing. “I…”

“You?”

“Well I um-”

“Yes?”

“Fuck. Tom wha’ did I do?” Dom’s voice was almost a whine and his legs felt weak. Everything felt off inside him. For once he felt like the little boy he hadn't really gotten to be. His knotheaded father had raised him to be an Alpha's Alpha and when he wasn't up to standard… Well he took care of that. Dom felt suddenly heavy and he let himself sit next to his friend. What had happened to him?

Tom had never seen the man so shaken and he'd known him for a good few years. Dom was always sure of himself and a little broken but he was never scared. Not the night he rescued Tom in a dark alley, and not one moment since. It hurt his heart to see his friend so lost. He couldn't completely smother his worry for the fellow omega though, or his enjoyment of the situation. “You just found someone. You don't have to have a crisis over it. You're a good man Dom.” How could he tell the scared Alpha what he could tell was happening without sending him into a spiral? The bottom line was he couldn't. He couldn't warn him about the heat scent. He couldn't explain he knew what the mob boss was about to go through. He couldn't give Dom a reassurance that he could handle a mate because he wasn't completely sure he could. He loved Dom but the Alpha wasn't exactly sane.

Tom himself hadn't ever used blockers. He never believed he needed them even though it could get him into trouble. He'd met Dom on a night he was too close to his cycle and an Alpha had tried to follow him home. The killer had saved him from something terrible so he knew the man would treat the mob boss as well as he could. He wasn't scared of that. No. He knew if the world believed Colson was an Alpha the omega had obviously been on the medication for so long. If they stopped working because the pair met? That meant something drastic. Intense. His best friend was intense but he didn't always handle it well. The photographer's stomach turned at the thought of the hell the Machine Gun was about to go through. His own cycles were bad and they were natural. Fuck. Looking over at the boy- because Dom really was that, he knew the Alpha might take it rough. He couldn't tell him. Dom would blame himself without realizing all it meant for himself. They'd have to figure it out as they went. He could at least help though.

Instead of answering any better he pat his lap and drew the younger man to rest on his thighs. He knew his own scent wouldn't bother him, Dom never even seemed to notice though he was always kind. As the Alpha got comfortable and curled up against him he pet through his wild dark hair. “I'll deny the job request. You just rest.” He sighed.

“No. I don't want ‘em sending someone else. Jus’ leave it. By the time ‘ey realize I'll be watching Cols.” Dom didn't even realize he'd given the bastard a nickname. He wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

“Alright.” He whispered back but he still opened his tablet and a special messenger app. He rolled his lip between his teeth as he tried to think of what to say. He couldn't explain to Colson that he knew he was about to be in heat triggered by a serial killing Alpha. He couldn't say he thought they'd found their mates. Instead he just typed something simple. ‘In case of emergency I promise he'll come when you call.’, and under that he added Dom’s phone number before he set it aside and sat back. Even he was apprehensive of the situation. He didn't know what would happen next.

🩸☠️🩸

Colson was pacing his living room when two things happend simultaneously. His elevator opened and his phone alerted him to a new message. He ignored the latter to race for his visitor. With everything happening he could only think of one person to call for help. The only person he trusted since his father figure died. He was desperately hoping she could tell him it would all be okay.

“Col? Baby, what's wrong?” His mother's voice instantly calmed some of his fears as she entered his home and pulled him into a hug. He hadn't even realized he was shaking until her steady form touched him.

She'd had him so young that her pretty face still seemed fresh and soft. He'd gone so long without her as a boy and found her through a series of the most unfortunate events but now she was the one he came to with anything that had to do with his secret. Only she knew. He took a deep breath of her honeydew scent before he pulled from the hug and crossed his arms. Someone might know what he was but that didn't mean he had to act like it. He was still the man of his family and he could be strong. Before he could even say anything he watched her blonde brows furrow and she wandered off to his bedroom. “What the fuck?” She might look like a flower but she certainly wasn't one. He grumbled to himself and followed suit.

She was standing by his bed, already stripping the bloodied sheets. His mother was the kind of woman to get shit done and worry about feelings later. It kept them both strong and task oriented. She was probably why he'd come so far in his life. “Someone sent Yungblud after me.” He huffed and that made her freeze.

“Do you think it was-” Her voice went soft. She couldn't finish the sentence and he wouldn't do it for her.

“I don't know. Fuck if I know how he'd find us or why the hell he'd care, but if it was? Shit. I'll take his out myself.” Anger bubbled in his chest but he was already so hot it felt like lava in his veins. They couldn't worry about that first. “Mom-”

Her gaze softened as she took in his sweat soaked appearance. He hadn't been able to dress more than another pair of boxers and they were already soaked. “Your blockers… Did you run out?” She asked carefully. Conversationally. She couldn't flat out say what was obviously written all over her son in sweat.

Kells swallowed hard before shaking his head. “Took some this morning. I'm fine. Just sick.”

“And Yungblud-”

“Dom.”

“Dom? He was here and he's an Alpha?” Her voice stayed gentle just in case.

Kells shrugged his shoulders and moved to help her with the sheets. A glint caught his eye and he found the knife Dom had left. It was still covered in red as he picked it up and set it inside his bedside table. He probably shouldn't keep it but he didn't like the idea of throwing it out. It made something feel tight in his chest. “Maybe I'll just get stronger ones. I mean, it's not that but... Ya know. If he could tell it's probably time.”

“I don't think they make anything stronger Colson. You've already overwhelmed your system with Alpha hormones-”

“Well I'll have to find fucking something!” He didn't mean to shout but he couldn't help it. It felt like ants were crawling under his skin the moment Dom left and his core was aching more than it ever had.

“Alright! We'll figure something out. Will you see him again?” She asked softly, taking the pile of sheets to his hamper though he was pretty sure they'd have to be thrown out. He didn't know why that thought disappointed him. When she moved to pick up the messy pillow he rushed forward and took it from her hands, his cheeks pink as he cradled it against his chest. Her question shocked him though. What the fuck would he do that for?

His mother blused at the scent and the sight of her son so frazzled and she watched as he hid the pillow under his bed. That more than anything told her all she needed to know and so much of her was worried for her son. “I think you need to find him.” She said simply. “Just to ask who sent him.” It was a lie but at least it would give the boy an excuse. She knew exactly what was happening and why her son felt ill. He would need the other man, no matter who he was.

“I doubt he'll want to talk to me. I bit the fucker. But he's a fucking psycho! I mean!” He gestured to the mess of his room. “Who the fuck tries to kill someone then jacks off on their pillow? It was expensive!” His mom tried not to laugh at his rage. Honestly it reminded her of when she first met her husband. Not Colson's father, but the love of her life. She couldn't exactly tell him so though. “I think he poisoned me. I swallowed some of his bitch blood and now I'm sick. I should get fucking tested. I'm gonna die. That crazy bastard killed me.” If he pouted like the boy he never got to be for just a moment that was between him and his mother. He could almost admit to himself he was scared. Almost.

As she left the room to find a set of clean sheets he finally picked his phone up to check the message. “In case of emergency? What the fuck?” He didn't recognize the number but deep down he knew who would be on the other side if he sent a text. He couldn't bring himself to yet. He was too confused.

“Let's just get you resting.” His mom's voice was soothing as she touched the back of her hand to his forehead. Maybe just for the night he could ignore his life and let her take care of him. He'd missed so much of that bonding as a boy and he felt like one now. A lost boy.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone else wants tagged let me know 🖤

I'm not using Col's actual mom, just wanted to explain that. More of her details will come out as we go. I hope you all liked this chapter. I love getting to see the soft side of such hard boys. Enjoy 🖤

[scoliosisgoblin]

Jay gta au feat. Bennie

[tapeworrmart]

🔪🦂

[herasoufleeart]

Trikey WIP (again) 💀