#dhampir whumpee

[quietly-by-myself]

Fearless - Chapter 9

Masterlist

CW: fantasy whump, nonhuman whumpee, dhampir/vampire whumpee, human whumpee, mutual caretaking, emotional whump, recovery whump, aftermath whump, aftermath of trauma, denial, angst, depressed whumpee, PTSD

===

There were few secluded places on the island, especially for two young adults escaping the Dragon King. The only places that remained uninhabited were those where landmines laced the forest grounds from wars long past. 

It would seem like a madman’s feat to build a house where landmines threatened to blow the foot off of anyone who dared to walk the land. However, with Kaloyan’s magic, Nikolay and Kaloyan were able to safely traverse the forest to a field with a beautiful pond. 

Nikolay could only imagine that the field had once been home to barracks. Weeds grew where cattails had been cut down. Thistles stung their unclothed feet, but neither of them cared. Calluses protected them from the worst of the damage. Had life been good for the soldiers who’d lived in this scenic little piece of land?

For a moment, Nikolay could forget that war raged around them. That the land he was to inhabit was only abandoned because not even the Dragon King was daring enough to fight there.

The construction of the house was easy enough with Nikolay’s magic. Kaloyan would use his magic to cut down trees and Nikolay’s magic would refine them into planks, then planks into walls and floors. It was their peace of paradise, even as the two slept under the stars while the house went up.

A dock, a roof, four walls, a small kitchen with a stove for heat made of refined river stones - this was their home. The final day of construction was a joyous occasion. Kaloyan went out hunting while Nikolay put the door on the house. 

When Kaloyan returned, Nikolay smiled at him.

“Want to come in?”

Kaloyan smiled in return. “More ready than I’ve ever been.”

Kaloyan was the one who turned the knob. Though they’d entered the house during construction, it was different now. There was a magic to it. The house was theirs. It would be their home, in the middle of a forest of landmines, where they could live in peace. As boys turned to men by war, it was all they could’ve hoped for.

The stove soon burned with fire from Kaloyan’s magic. Though it was empty of any furniture, the forest not having had anything to help them make any, it was more home than either of the two men had ever felt before. 

Kaloyan approached Nikolay and, for the first time, pulled Nikolay into a hug. 

“I’m so glad I picked you to be my bonded mage.”

Nikolay didn’t say anything in return, though he certainly felt the same. Instead, he relaxed into the dhampir’s arms, relaxing for the first time in what felt like a century.

—

A broken door, smashed dishes, and blood on the floor marred Nikolay and Kaloyan’s perfect home. Nikolay hardly remembered how any of the damage had happened. Had he been cooking? There was food on the floor, near the broken dishes.

Looking around, Nikolay realized he needed to get Kaloyan to a bed. Gently, Nikolay shook Kaloyan. Kaloyan let out a heartbreaking whimper at the gentle shake.

“Don’t hurt me.”

Nikolay pulled his hand back immediately, shocked. “Kaloyan, it’s just me. I want you to get to your bed.”

Their beds had been left untouched when Dimitar and his group had raided the place. It was a kindness that Nikolay hadn’t expected from someone like Dimitar. At that moment, though, all it meant was that Kaloyan could lie down for now.

Once Kaloyan was in bed, Nikolay went to the kitchen. He was starving, but knew not to feed himself too quickly after the starvation. With a little bit of magic, the frozen meat that they’d stored was quickly cooked over the stove that was all too easy to light.

As Nikolay took a seat at their table that only had one chair that wasn’t broken to eat, he heard crying. It was Kaloyan. 

The sound struck all the words out of Nikolay. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to react? Kaloyan thought that Nikolay hated him. Of course, too affected by what they’d gone through, Kaloyan couldn’t look through their bond to see that Nikolay didn’t hate him. In fact, Nikolay loved Kaloyan more than ever.

Sure, hearing Kaloyan say that he hated Nikolay had affected Nikolay. How could it not? Nikolay, though, hadn’t been hurt by it. Rather, it had infuriated him. It had hurt him to see his best friend say that - only because Kaloyan had been abused so badly. Nikolay was tormented by seeing his friend so severely mutilated, mentally and physically.

Kaloyan had gotten it worse than him. Nikolay was sure of it. As much as Nikolay hated to admit it, Kaloyan was just more sensitive than him, too. Everything affected Kaloyan more than Nikolay.

How the hell was Nikolay supposed to help Kaloyan? The words of the mage came back to him, but Nikolay hadn’t been traumatized. He’d fought back. He’d escaped and rescued Kaloyan. To say he was traumatized would be a lie. Kaloyan was the one who was traumatized.

So why then did they need to follow the path of healing together, if Nikolay wasn’t traumatized?

Fuck.

Never before had Nikolay felt so helpless. Not with the Dragon King. Not with his father’s death. Not with anything. Why? Why had Kaloyan been hurt? Why the innocent one?

Why are you guilty if Kaloyan is innocent?

That question planted in his head by that ancient mage echoed in Nikolay’s head. Nikolay had no good answer to it. What was wrong with him? He was the strong one. Why couldn’t he be stronger?

The days passed slowly. Kaloyan showed a smile to Nikolay, but Nikolay knew the truth - Kaloyan was getting worse. Between the crying and the nightmares that woke them both up, Nikolay knew Kaloyan was slipping away. Kaloyan was a shell of the person who was his best friend. Nikolay didn’t know what to do.

In his head, Nikolay cried to some higher power, the goddess he’d worshiped for years but who’d forsaken Nikolay, for help. He needed help. Kaloyan was hurt. Kaloyan was hurt. Nikolay-

Nikolay was hurt, too.

Just admitting that made the helplessness fifty times worse. How was he supposed to help Kaloyan when he himself was hurt?

His hands weren’t the same. When he tried to fix the legs of the chairs Dimitar’s followers had broken, his hands couldn’t wrap entirely around the chair legs. 

Nikolay was weak. Why had he fought so stupidly? Why couldn’t he have been smarter? Why? Why was life like this? Why had his goddess forsaken him? Why had his father died? Why had he fallen for the Dragon King’s lies?

Drowning was the only word Nikolay could put to his emotions. He was running out of oxygen, sinking, confused, and unable to find his way to the surface. The tight feeling in his shoulders and chest never went away.

Wheezing. Gasping. Heaving. What was he supposed to do?

Nikolay did the only thing he knew how to - throw himself into work. Kaloyan spent most of his time in bed and was refusing to eat. Nikolay didn’t blame him. However, Nikolay needed to work. He knew it was dangerous to feel so helpless and work was the only way he could stop feeling.

Working on the house was no easy task. Besides the door that had been broken in, all the windows needed repairs. The roof had been in a state of disrepair for a while - Nikolay needed to fix that. He needed to check the integrity of the foundation. He needed to help Kaloyan.

Fixing the house was helping Kaloyan. How could Kaloyan feel safe in a house that bore the damage of his tormentor?

So, Nikolay fixed the house. The door came first, then the windows. However, as Nikolay got to the roof, he noticed something. When he’d try to manipulate the logs into planks, they wouldn’t become smooth. They wouldn’t feel weatherproof as Nikolay had intended.

Yes, helplessness was indeed dangerous for someone of his magic. He was losing his magic. He was becoming Tainted. 

However, helplessness fed into helplessness. How was Nikolay supposed to break the cycle? Sure, he’d broken the cycle of violence, but violence had replaced itself with helplessness. After all, if he couldn’t fight it, how was Nikolay supposed to fix it?

Sitting by one of the walls where a bullet hole pierced pristine wood, Nikolay found his heart full of ire. Why couldn’t he just be stronger? Kaloyan needed him to be strong. Yet, somehow, Nikolay couldn’t be strong.

As he tried to fix the hole, manipulate the wood around him to repair it, his magic fizzled.

Damn it all.

Resigned for the first time in a long time, Nikolay buried his face in his hands and cried, trying to keep the noise down so as to not alert Kaloyan.

Nikolay was going to become Tainted. He was going to become like the beast that had hurt Kaloyan. The beast that had hurt him. He was traumatized by that beast. That trauma was going to be his downfall.

Tears rolled down his face as he realized that Kaloyan would truly hate him. Not words that Dimitar would force out of his mouth, but true, unadulterated hatred for a beast.

Nikolay wanted to stop it. Nikolay wanted to change himself. He wanted to be strong. As he sat there, sobbing quietly, though, Nikolay realized that he never would be again. He would become Tainted and Kaloyan would hate him, if Kaloyan didn’t die in the process.

===

Tags: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpworld, @darkthingshappen, @pigeonwhumps, @rabass, @whither-wander-whump, @whumpshaped, @espresso-depresso-system, @oddsconvert

[whumpy-writings]

Obedience

Febuwhump 2024 Day 4

The Dhampir Files Masterlist

CW: Abusive parents (whumpees are adults), referenced lab whump, whipping, carewhumper, lady whumper, conditioned whumpee

Cal sat on the ground, Renn resting his head on his lap as he slept. It had been a couple weeks since the sun experiment. They had been allowed to heal, but Cal was under no illusions that that was the last experiment their parents would conduct.

The waiting was the worst part. He didn't know what the next horror would be, or when it would happen. All he and Renn could do was wait. Renn whimpered in his sleep.

"You're okay, I've got you," Cal whispered as he stroked his brother's hair. Renn hadn't had nightmares in years. But now it seemed like he had them every time he closed his eyes.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open and Cal tensed. But the footsteps down the stairs sounded different. Uneven. A man appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He had brown hair and was dressed in simple clothes. He crossed the room with a pronounced limp. This was the first person Cal had seen besides Renn and their parents since he was thrown into this hell-hole.

The man moved to the tables and shuffled things around, like he was looking for something. Cal squinted. It almost looked like. . .

"Miles?" A surge of relief went through Cal as his human half-brother turned to look at him. "Miles! Oh my gods, it's you. Hurry, let us out of here."

Miles flinched. "I can't do that," he said. Cal swallowed down his frustration.

"Why not? They're not here right now. There must be an extra key somewhere."

Miles approached the cage with his eyes on the floor. When he stood outside the door, Cal caught sight of the collar, which sat atop a mess of scars from bites. He hadn't had those before. He hadn't had the limp either.

"I'm sorry," Miles whispered. "I'm not allowed to."

"Miles, please, you can come with us. They're torturing me and Renn, I don't know how much longer we can survive this."

"I can't."

"Why the fuck-"

"Miles! I told you not to talk to them!" Cal whipped his head up to see Mother striding toward them, her face furious. Miles went pale. He spun around and fell to his knees, bowing to the floor with his hands on either side of his head.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I'm sorry, it won't happen again." Miles was shaking. Mother stood in front of him with her arms crossed. She shot Cal a glare.

"He hasn't disobeyed in months," she said. "And now I'll have to punish him. This is your fault, Callum." Renn stirred from Cal's lap.

"What's going on? Miles?" Renn's voice was thick with sleep.

"I was just about to discipline him," Mother said. "He was explicitly told that he was not to speak to you two, and he did anyway."

Miles shoulders hitched and Cal realized he was crying. "Please ma'am, please I'll be good please I don't need a punishment."

"That's not for you to decide, human." Mother grabbed Miles's hair and hauled him to his feet.

"Let him go!" Renn yelled. "Don't hurt him!" He grabbed onto the bars. "Please, don't hurt him."

Mother ignored him. "Take off your shirt, hands against the wall."

Miles sobbed as he undressed. Cal gasped. His back was criss-crossed in scars. There were dozens of them. He definitely hadn't had those when Cal and Renn left.

"How many lashes do you deserve, Miles?"

Mother crossed to a bench and picked up a whip.

"No! Please Mother, don't hurt him, it was my fault." Cal's eyes burned with tears. Fuck, he hadn't wanted to get Miles hurt.

"T-ten ma'am," Miles said. "Ten for my disobedience. His hands were pressed against the wall, his back bared. Tears rolled down his face and he was shaking.

"Only ten?" Mother said. She cracked the whip and Miles jumped. "You disobeyed a direct order. You'll get twenty-five lashes. And then you will clean up whatever blood gets on the floor. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Miles whispered.

"Good."

She got behind him with the whip. Renn buried his face in Cal's shoulder. Cal wrapped his arm around him. The whip cracked through the air and Miles cried out. Cal hugged Renn even tighter and put his hands over his brother's ears to try to dampen the sound.

The lashes were hard and fast and soon enough Miles's knees gave out. He knelt on the ground, sobbing as lash after lash bit through his ruined back. It seemed to go on forever.

Finally, the lashes stopped. Miles collapsed to the ground with a sob. "I'm sorry ma'am, I'm sorry, thank you for teaching me to be good." Disgust rose in Cal's throat. Miles was thanking her for torture.

Mother knelt down next to Miles and smoothed his sweaty hair back from his forehead. "There's my good boy. You won't make the same mistake again, will you?" Miles shook his head.

"No, never."

"Good."

Mother met eyes with Cal. "I hope this was a lesson for you too. You are not to talk to him. I would hate for him to be tempted and have to be punished again." Miles whimpered. "He's just a human, after all. His body isn't as strong as mine or yours." She turned back to Miles. "Now clean up this mess. Once you're finished I'll bandage the wounds."

"Yes ma'am." Miles scrambled to his feet and set about cleaning up the blood that splattered the floor. Mother pulled out a chair and sat down just outside the cage.

"Miles is a good boy, usually. Of course, at the beginning he was very disobedient. He tried to escape too, you know. Right after you two left. Isn't that right, Miles?"

"Yes ma'am," Miles said from where he scrubbed at the floor. "It was very stupid of me."

"That's right, it was very stupid, wasn't it?" She smiled icily as she looked at Cal and Renn. "You know he can't see very well, so he didn't get far. We broke his leg when we caught him. We couldn't risk him running again, you see. Then it was just a matter of training. He became the perfect human within six months."

"You tortured him," Cal said flatly.

"No," Mother corrected. "We trained him. There is a difference. He needed to learn which behaviors were acceptable and which were not. We used a combination of negative and positive feedback to help him learn his place. And he's happy now that he understands that we're in charge. Isn't that right, Miles?" Miles knelt down next to her, the floor spotless behind him.

"Yes ma'am, I'm very happy now. I live to serve you."

"You're so sweet," Mother said with a smile. She placed her hand on Miles's head, like he was a favored dog. Cal felt ill. They had broken Miles. His spirit, his personality, was gone. He was a shell of the person he used to be. Obedient because that was the only choice he had. They were going to do the same thing to him and Renn. It might take longer, but one day he would be the one kneeling next to Mother in submission. Cal shuddered.

Taglist: @dragonqueenslayer6 @whumpsday

[captain-bo-bob-bobby]

I see a lot of great fantasy whumpees- vampire whumpees/ers, mer whumpees, heck- there's even an amazing lilch whumper character out there. There's a few I would like to see more of though;

Werewolves. Does anyone know of any good ones out there on whumpblr? I haven't really gotten any recommended to me on my home page, so I'd love some recs.

Dhampirs/Dhamvirs(?). Not totally sure on how to spell this term, but it would be amazing to find writing with a half-human, half-vampire character. Especially with inter-species racism fitted for that fantasy world.

Zombies. There's SO MUCH POTENTIAL- I already imagined a world where zombies are a result of underground experimentation with humans and some illegal activity, and now zombies are being advertised as a "non-sentient helper" or something, when really they're partly human and still feel pain, especially as whumpees. This can include whumpee slavery, medical whump, etc etc. [I might write something on this, but it really depends on my writer's block... so if anyone see this and wants to write it, PLEASE. Just like, tag me and tag "zombie trope" or something so that multiple people can write it or something off of it if they feel like it. It would be like Christmas coming early or something.]

[whumpwillow]

Types of whumpees, a comprehensive list

this is really more for my own personal reference since I need to write everything down because my brain is made of smashed banana and cannot remember anything ever. 🍌

species / role:

mortal whumpee, the average human being

immortal whumpee

vampire whumpee

demon whumpee

angel whumpee

phoenix whumpee

elf whumpee

faery whumpee

tiny whumpee

giant whumpee

android whumpee

cyborg whumpee

robot whumpee

draconic whumpee

mer whumpee

dryad / plant-person whumpee

mage whumpee

royal whumpee

bodyguard whumpee

knight whumpee

naga whumpee

werewolf whumpee

dhampir whumpee

genie / djinn whumpee

ghost whumpee

zombie whumpee

undead whumpee

selkie whumpee

pet / box boy whumpee

guard dog whumpee

living weapon whumpee

assassin whumpee

spy whumpee

rebel whumpee

deity whumpee

slave whumpee

mafia boss whumpee

CEO whumpee

whumper-turned-whumpee

caretaker-turned-whumpee

villain whumpee

superhero whumpee

sidekick whumpee

civilian whumpee

famous whumpee

known whumpee

returner / regressor whumpee

monster hunter whumpee

behavior:

defiant whumpee

stoic whumpee

weak whumpee

cowardly whumpee

pathetic whumpee

obedient whumpee

prideful whumpee

detached whumpee

enduring whumpee

feral whumpee

vicious whumpee

powerful whumpee

bargaining whumpee

disbelieving whumpee

hopeful whumpee

hopeless whumpee

self-loathing whumpee

regretful whumpee

conditioned whumpee

Feel free to add on to this post if you think of any more!

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Bait

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Priya runs afoul of some Hunters.

Contains: Dhampir whumpee, kidnapping, mentioned drugging, restraint, used as bait, beating, broken bones, some gore and violence, blood drinking, parental whumper, minor character death

~~~

Priya awoke to the sound of unfamiliar voices.

She didn’t shift or groan as she returned to consciousness; she knew better than that. She remained just as still as she had been before as she slowly regained her bearings. Her body was upright, her neck lolling, and her hands were restrained behind her back. There was a lingering taste in her mouth— she had been drugged. A faint breeze told her she was outside, though she didn’t feel the sun’s warmth— nighttime, probably, especially given the crackling of a nearby fire. And there were voices around her— three, by the sounds of it— seemingly arguing about what to do with her.

“—just kill her now, while we have the chance.”

“There’s no need to be so hasty. She’s only a dhampir. And that means she’s got a Sire backing her up.”

With luck, their attention wouldn’t be on her. The bindings holding her were tight, but not too tight, and from what she could tell they were only rope. If she could just move her wrists the right way, she might be able to slip them…

“What, are you worried about drawing her Sire’s attention? I’m sure we could handle it.”

“Exactly.”

“What do you—”

The first voice cut them off. “You want to use her as bait? Draw her Sire out?”

That would be bad. Matthias couldn’t find out she had allowed herself to be captured like this. She started moving with a bit more urgency, but she couldn’t seem to make any headway. Everything Matthias had forced her to learn, and she couldn’t put it to use when she actually needed it.

“It’s a solid plan, no? Kill two bats with one stone, as it were?”

“I thought vampires turning into bats was a myth—”

Again they were cut off; Priya was sensing some discord among this group of apparent Hunters. If she couldn’t get free (and it was starting to look like maybe she couldn’t) then maybe she could use that to her advantage. “I’ve even heard a rumor that a Sire can sense if one of their dhampirs is in trouble. Something about the magic that connects them. She would be excellent bait if we wanted to set up a trap.” There was a faint crunch of footsteps against dirt, and she felt a presence loom over her, making her go still again. “Even better if we raise the stakes a little.”

A beleaguered sigh. “Would you stop—”

Before anything else could be said, a sharp blow landed right between Priya’s ribs. She couldn’t suppress the sound of surprised alarm she made, or stop herself from doubling over slightly from the pain.

“Oh look. She’s awake.” Priya finally opened her eyes and looked up; the Hunter was giving her a wicked grin. They had a young face, relatively free of scars, but what they lacked in signs of experience they more than made up for in visible malice. “Perfect. That’ll make things easier.”

Even if she had wanted to visibly react, she wouldn’t have had the chance before the Hunter struck her across the face, sending her to the ground. With her arms behind her back, she wasn’t able to catch herself, and she grunted from the rough impact. The blow stung, and she was certain her cheek would bruise later. The punch was followed by a swift kick to her stomach, making her sputter and curl in on herself. It hurt, but it was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. She would be fine. She had to be.

One of the other Hunters fell in beside the one standing over her. The staff they were carrying gave off a dangerous, silver glint in the firelight. “We should make sure she can’t get away. Just in case.”

“Excellent idea.” A boot landed on her shoulder, pressing her into the dirt and keeping her pinned. She grit her teeth, but didn’t give them the satisfaction of letting them see her afraid. “By all means.”

The Hunter swung the staff in an overhead arc, bringing it down directly on Priya’s ankle. The joint buckled with a sickening crack, and she cried out as pain exploded at the point of impact. She had to close her eyes for a moment to adjust to the fire that had taken up residence in her leg. At least the silver didn’t burn her like it would a true vampire, but the broken bone was pain enough. Worse, it was going to make it that much harder to escape.

“There.” Even through the pain, Priya’s senses were keen, and she knew to keep them trained on the enemy. She heard the glee in their voice, and opened her eyes to see them raise their staff back over their shoulder. “She won’t be getting far on that leg now.”

“Good work. “You think that’s enough to get her Sire over here?”

A grin spread out across the Hunter’s face. “I think she needs a bit more.”

The one pinning her put even more pressure on her shoulder, matching their companion’s grin. “I think you’re right.”

The staff landed right across her ribs. A kick impacted in her side. She was lifted by the hair so her head could be slammed into the ground. The blows kept coming, and Priya was helpless to stop them, no matter how much she tugged at the restraints holding her.

The third Hunter never joined in. They were watching their surroundings keenly; they were likely just keeping watch, though there was a chance they just didn’t have the stomach for the brutality their companions were inflicting.

Matthias had taught her how to weather interrogations. But these people just wanted to hurt her for the sake of hurting her. It was a little chilling, knowing that the only way they would stop was if Matthias came for her, something she couldn’t decide if she wanted or not. What was worse, having to weather their blows and wait for an opening that might not come, or the anticipation of her Sire’s inevitable anger and disappointment?

At the very least, Priya knew how to set her jaw and endure. Matthias had been very effective at instilling that crucial skill into her.

---

Priya awoke to the sound of screaming.

The din was accompanied by the scent of blood, a siren song that immediately got her attention and had her eyes fluttering open, despite the ache in every part of her body. It took a moment for her vision to focus, and what she saw had both her heart soaring and dread pooling in her gut.

One of the Hunters was on the ground, eyes open but unseeing, blood still pouring from their mangled throat. Another was impaled on their own staff, pinned to a nearby tree, their screams turning to gurgles as their death throes set in. And the third was being held aloft by Matthias, his desperate pleas met by cold, stone-faced indifference.

Matthias glanced at her. “Priya. You’re awake.” He threw the Hunter down to the ground in front of her. The Hunter let out a soft cry of pain and landed in a heap. “Drink. The blood will help you heal.”

Priya pushed herself upright as best she could and looked at them. This was the one that had been keeping watch, the one that hadn’t taken part in hurting her, though they had let it happen. Both their arms were broken, as was their nose. She could hear their heartbeat, frantic and enticing. They looked up at her, desperation written across their face. “Please— I’m sorry, please don’t kill me—”

A tiny part of Priya’s soul felt bad. But the thrum of the Hunter’s heart was too strong a call. And she knew better than to disobey her Sire. She crawled forward, arms still bound; they crawled back, equally clumsy with their broken arms. Matthias met them with a boot against their back, stopping their retreat.

Her fangs slid into their throat easily. Their blood tasted all the sweeter with how it was laced with fear and adrenaline. She drank until their pleas petered out and their body went limp.

“Good.” As soon as she heard Matthias speak, Priya let go of the Hunter, letting their corpse fall back to the ground. He knelt down, and within a few moments her hands were free. “Are you feeling better?”

She paused to take stock of her injuries. The blood definitely helped; most of the pain in her body had faded to a dull ache. She was sure she would have bruises later, but she could deal with those. The problem was her ankle, which didn’t hurt as much, but was definitely still broken.

“I am. My ankle isn’t fully healed, but I might still be able to walk on it.” Matthias liked honesty, but he liked her to show that she was willing to push herself to please him even more.

“No need,” Matthias said. He held out his hand; she took it, and he helped her to her feet. When she tried putting weight on her ankle, pain blossomed up and down her leg, and she lifted it back up, though she didn’t show her pain on her face or make a sound. “I thought so. Let me help you walk home. You can take it easy until it heals.”

It was generous. Almost too generous. But she wasn’t going to question it and risk him changing his mind, or punishing her for expressing doubt. “Thank you, Father.”

His only response was a hum of acknowledgement before he started walking, an arm braced around hers to keep her stable.

After they left the camp and the smell of blood behind, Priya tentatively spoke up again, voice quiet. “…I thought you would leave me to handle this by myself.”

“I’m sure you could have,” Matthias said impassively. “But what kind of father would I be if I didn’t help my daughter when she needed me?”

Loathing and love spread through her in equal measure. She wished she could say which one was stronger. “Of course.”

Matthias gave her the barest hint of a smile. It meant the world to her, because she still had his approval.

The rest of the long trek home was silent. Priya preferred it that way.

[whumpypepsigal]

Happy Whumpmas (•∇•。) 🎅🎄🎁🦌 🍪 🥛!!! You have just been snowballed by a secret whumper. Help to keep the snowball fight going by anonymously sending this to five other whumpers with a whump-related question of your choice: Who are your top three new whumpees/blorbos you have found this year?

oh dear anon, this is hard to choose 😭 haha! okay, my top three new whumpees/blorbos are *drum rolls*…

Adrian Chase/Vigilante: he is a (sweet) psychopath but he is my baby and must be protected.

Dimitri Belikov: the stoic yet vulnerable dhampir (they better give us s02 because i need of him in my life and i really wanna see the whump aftermath when he gets turned into a strigoi)

Halbrand/Sauron: the man who wanted to be done with his righteous evil-doing past and live his life in peace, only to get enamored with galadriel, join in her quest to defeat the “evil”, falling in love with her and then attempting to propose to her to be his queen + getting the confidence to get back to his evil doing life asdfghkhkl ahhhhh where is s02 already?

honorable mentions:

Aemond Targaryen in HOTD, Marc/Steven in Moon Knight and (my baby) Eddie Munson in Stranger Things s04

[blackrosesandwhump]

Sword of the Half-Human, Part 4

BTHB: Bloodstained Clothes

Fandom: Original work

Credit to @captain-bo-bob-bobby for the inspiration for the dhampir :)

Synopsis: Gathin hunts down a monster at a masquerade ball and finds much more than he bargained for.

CW: blood, creature attack, inhuman whumpee/whumper, vampire whump

Master, there is something you must know.

The words didn’t come from her lips but sounded right in my head as usual. They startled me. I had been lost in her face, in the elegant, gentle swish of her silver dress as we danced. The sword, in human, womanly, form. The thought stole my speech even as my gaze stayed fixed on her.

Master. Please listen to me.

We danced another few steps, toward the edge of the ballroom.

“I’m listening,” I whispered. Only half a lie.

A monster is hiding among us.

I stumbled over open space but quickly regained my balance, chuckling to hide my spike of alarm.  “Someone other than me, I assume.”

You are not a monster.

“That was meant to be a joke.”

She didn’t reply. I refocused my senses, assessing the partygoers carefully as we continued to dance. A cluster of guests in the corner, all clad in black with feathered masks like crows. Suspicious. But not dangerous enough for me to pursue. What about that tall, gaunt figure dancing with the tiny, bird-like woman? My senses tingled slightly. Not a monster. At least, not one worth my time.

I scanned the ballroom with a growing sense of desperation. My steps faltered and I pulled the silver manifestation to the side, my hand tight around hers. Where? Where was this monster? The sword wouldn’t lie; I certainly believed her, but as the seconds ticked by and I found nothing, my impression of peril grew.

“Do you know who it is? Where it is?” I breathed in the sword’s ear.

I am sorry, master, she said in my head. But I cannot find—

“Wait.”

Yes. There. A man of surprisingly average size, his angelic mask standing out white in the shadow of the far corner of the room. How had I missed him? As my gaze lingered, I felt him look at me, felt a surge of anger emanate from him. Not him, it. It could not be human, not with that kind of hideous aura.

You found the monster?

“I found him. We have to kill him. Let’s go.”

My thoughts carouseled around each other as we struggled across the crowded ballroom. The sword, her silver dress ethereal and impossible. The monster, close by, its identity unknown, also masquerading as a human. Two imposters, two manifestations, one in service to me, the other my newly-sworn enemy. The sword was well-seasoned by now, triumphant in many fights and my ultimate companion in the face of death. But the monster—what kind of monster would I be fighting tonight?

We reached the edge of the room. The angelic impostor had disappeared. I swore under my breath. “What now?”

We find him.

The bare moon, bright and startling after hours behind clouds, illuminated the garden and made the chilly air feel even icier. At the top of the stone steps, she transformed. The silver dress melted and hardened, the graceful body condensed down into the sleek-edged weapon I knew so well. My fingers closed around the familiar hilt and the comforting weight of the blade.

Do you see him?

“No, there’s no one…nothing…” As in the ballroom, but now with the noise muffled and given way to the quiet atmosphere of night, I scanned our surroundings, squinting into the darkness for a glimpse of a white-feathered mask. “It’s not here.”

That monster is quick. Beware, master.

I shivered, pulling my cloak more tightly around me with one hand. “I’ve cheated death before, remember,” I said, as much to myself as to her. “One beast is no match for us.”

For the second time that evening, she was silent.

I took the steps down two at a time. Still nothing. Darkness, patches of moonlight, the tree line where the ground gave way to dense forest.

And then I saw it: a figure fleeing into the trees, almost bounding, its white costume highlighted by the radiant moon.

The ground changed from grass to undergrowth under my flying feet. My pulse raced. Closer, closer, so close now I could feel that wrathful aura, smell the scent of blood—

Blood?

In a flash it was on me, fangs tearing at my clothes, claws raking my flesh. I struck out with the sword. It connected—the creature snarled and leapt backward—I fell back, panting, sword at the ready for another attack, my clothes stained with fresh blood. The scent was overpowering now: my own, and the horrifying perfume that surrounded the creature.

“Quite the disguise,” I said, my voice uncomfortably loud in my own ears. “A demon, dressed as an angel. Ingenious.”

Another snarl. And a deep, inhuman voice that grated with hidden pain: “I need—I need your blood…give me your blood…”

I took another step back, holding my blade higher. Moonlight glinted off its length. “No, you don’t want my blood. It tastes disgusting, Or so I’ve heard.” I gave a little bow.

The creature advanced toward me, still clad in its angelic guise, still wearing the white feathered mask. “But I—you don’t understand, I must—I have to—”

Master. Something is not right here. Be careful. The sword trembled once in my hand. I hesitated, my mind racing. The strong smell of blood…the creature’s pain…its desperation…

“Take off your mask.”

Nothing except the icy wind and a faint hiss that morphed into a whimper.

“Take it off, before I kill you.”

The mask dropped to the ground, feathers fluttering limply.

I saw its face.

A dhampir. A hybrid, half human, just as I was. More vampire than human now, and clearly driven to attack out of necessity rather than choice.

Then it threw itself at me, tears glinting in the corners of its pitch-black eyes.

@forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumping-to-conclusions @whumping-out-of-time

[whump-cravings]

Enthralled - 4

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1,391 words | Original work

Content: partial nudity (non sexual), pain, imprisonment, fear, vomiting (brief), drinking blood (vampire), profanity, worrying about transphobia and fantasy racism

Tseth breathed in. He... hurt. Dry mouth carefully parted, he breathed out. He was blearily aware of sheets, a bed, blankets, beneath and atop his still form. He smelled like venom.

Several minutes passed before he could force his laden eyes open. A white wall greeted him. He closed his eyes, the movement pressing tears free to sting down a cheek and off his nose.

The scent of blood kept him from slipping back into a haze. Slowly, every movement a battle, the dhampire pulled blankets aside. He laid there on his side for a minute more before working up the will to roll onto his other side and confront his situation.

The room was small and unadorned. A small nightstand was next to the bed, with two red plastic cups resting on top. As he pushed himself upright on a trembling arm, he saw soup in one and a few ounces of blood in the other. Getting settled, he picked up the broth and smelled it. Chicken. Probably unadulterated. He took a careful sip.

It was cold and hit unpleasantly, making Tseth's stomach growl angrily and cramp. He shut his eyes, holding down nausea. Once the wave had passed, he set the cup down, rubbing his eyes.

Looking around again, he saw a small adjoining room with no door. A half bathroom laid beyond. It was a good thing he didn't need to use the toilet, because he wasn't sure he could make it there. He glanced up, noticing two cameras watched him from different corners of the room, recessed into the walls.

He shook his head, returning his attention to the cups. Maybe if he could eat something more, he would feel better. He just had to get it down. Bracing himself on the counter, he poured some of the broth into the blood to make a 3:1 ratio. Then, after working up a little bit of strength, he tossed the mixture back.

He set the empty cup down. Only a few seconds later, he stumbled off the bed, knees hitting a wooden floor as his legs buckled. Everything came back up, burning on the way. Ow, fuck. Tears dripped from his nose onto the ground as he heaved a few times before he could crawl away.

He was only able to get a few feet away before his strength gave out and he collapsed. The taste of bile lingered, and he shook as if he was freezing but his entire body was flush with heat and sweat.

Soon, a lock clicked and the door opened. Tseth's eyes snapped open and he tried pushing himself upright.

It was the vampire in the doorway. Fangs, that was the name he'd given Tseth. Ridiculous—as if anybody would ever name their vampire kid "Fangs."

"Don't move," he said, dark eyes impassive.

Not like Tseth was having much success, anyways. He fell back down, warily watching.

Satisfied, Fangs moved inwards. He held a bucket in one hand. Going down on a knee near the mess, he methodically took cleaning supplies out of the bucket before lining it with a plastic bag. He snapped on some gloves.

"You can't just chuck back when you haven't eaten in days," the vampire chastised while mopping up with paper towels.

Tseth bit back a hot retort, instead electing to not respond, tucking his head down.

The vampire peeled off the gloves and tied the bag shut when he was finished. He dropped it off to the side before reloading the bucket. Then he looked up at Tseth and stood, taking a step closer.

Alarm jolted up Tseth's spine. He pushed himself back while hissing wordlessly, spine hitting the nightstand.

Fangs stopped, hands up and open. "You look like you need help getting to the shower." The vampire seemed genuine, and that he didn't immediately forced Tseth into being manhandled was a point in his favor.

Tseth wavered with indecision. Had he been given any kind of bath while he was out? He didn't know. All he could smell was the venom in his sweat. It would be so nice to shower. But it would also mean getting naked, wouldn't it? Or at least being wet and not having anything dry to change into. He had boxers on—his own boxers, even. Had they been on when he was strapped to the table? Had they seen him naked? Did they know? Did they understand what the scars on his chest meant? Would they care? But he couldn't take the risk that it would make the situation worse, could he?

He shook his head, trying to get upright again. With the help of the nightstand, he was able to sit up. Swallowing, trying to erase the burning in his throat, he said, "What did my grandparents say?" His brow was creased with effort it took to form the words.

Fang's mask slipped momentarily, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "Grandparents?" He fetched something out of his pocket, tossing it into Tseth's lap.

The dhampire flinched, too slow to move before the thing had already settled. Hands weak and shaking, he found the oral anesthetic. It took him only a moment to decide to get some on his finger and onto his gums. The action gave him time to think, and fortunately it helped clear away the taste of sickness.

His grandparents were the ones with money. That had to be the reason he was kidnapped, right? They found out somehow... Vlad overheard something while he was talking to them? Somehow connected him.

Grandma was right, he reflected miserably. I shouldn't have left home.

"The ransom demand," he said, feeling the numbing agent immediately start its work. Some tension eased from his shoulders, agonizing pain fractionally reduced. "Have they responded? How much did you ask for?" He didn't actually know how much his grandparents had, but it was like a lot. Not billionaire a lot, but a lot.

"I can't tell you that," Fangs said, face clear again. "Do Tylenol or ibuprofen work for you?"

Frustration built at the man's answer and change of subject. But he wouldn't turn down the opportunity for non-venom painkillers. Pulling his legs to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them. "A dose and a half of Ibuprofen. Please."

"And do you like chicken or beef more?"

Also not a question that hurt to answer. Eating was important. "Beef, and I eat green smoothies for other nutrient requirements. No milk." As Fangs nodded, Tseth pressed his luck. "Please, can't you tell me anything? Who's your boss?"

Fangs bent to pick up the bucket and trash bag. "Be back in a few." He left, lock clicking behind him.

Tseth leaned his head back in frustration. He couldn't get a read on the man. The other one had seemed more than willing to hurt Tseth into compliance, but Fangs... Were they doing good cop bad cop, maybe?

Worry scratched at the back of his mind. Was it standard to maim a ransom victim right off the bat? You only did that when you sent the body parts to horrify people into paying, right? I've got to stop getting my criminal knowledge from action movies.

His grandparents would pay for him in a heartbeat if they could afford it, he had no doubt. Or send a private rescue team or some shit, but either way, they would get him out.

But Fangs had seemed confused. Was it possible he wasn't here because of money?

He wiped his forehead, nervous. Only one other thing set him apart from the general populace.

Half-breed. His hands tightened on his legs. Was that a slur when he was the only one he knew about? Vlad had certainly said it that way. Betrayal ached in his chest. His roommate had never been particularly chummy, but never in a million years would he have imagined...

He swallowed, tears in his eyes again. You knew a vampire called Vlad was sketchy, moron. It was just so hard to find people chill about a vampire roommate.

If he was here because he was half-vampire half-human—

It's got to be because of money, he told himself, running a hand through his hair. Please let it be about money.

He didn't think about the fact that he'd already seen the face of one of his captors.

taglist: @lettuceknighted

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[quietly-by-myself]

Fearless - Chapter 8

Masterlist

Thank you to @darkthingshappen for the beta and everyone who's supported me in writing this!

Let me know if you were never added to the taglist! I haven't updated this story since May so things have fallen through the cracks.

CW: nonhuman whumper, nonhuman whumpee, dhampir whumpee, multiple whumpees, intimate whumper, major character death (whumper), human whumpee, minor character death (unnamed soldiers), racism, murder

===

“Kaloyan,” Nikolay started, gathering his courage. It was harder these days, with the Dragon King treating him as lesser. “I know you told me who your father was, but,” Nikolay sighed, “but I don’t know much else about your life… before you met me.”

The truth was that it wasn’t curiosity driving Nikolay. Ever since the first war room meeting, Kaloyan had had something on his mind. Nikolay wasn’t the best listener and he knew it. He just wasn’t good with people. However, Kaloyan needed someone. That much Nikolay could tell. If he could tell, it was a dire situation.

Kaloyan looked at Nikolay, a little startled. It was always strange seeing a dhampir startled by him. Even if Kaloyan and him were bonded for life, Nikolay knew that Kaloyan was far more powerful than him, even if he held something of a key.

Ultimate Eastern-bound mage. 

“Well, I,” Kaloyan hesitated. That sensitive dhampir who was Nikolay’s closest friend was hesitating, caught off guard by Nikolay’s questions. “I was raised by a servant. My mother’s pregnancy was a secret - my father and her were both cheaters. My father’s wife was infertile. That’s the reason I inherited my father’s position, despite being a bastard.”

Kaloyan took another breath, trying to calm himself. “That servant raised me in a way that my father never approved of. She taught me kindness and the value of peace. She was a former prisoner of war herself. I don’t know why my father chose her, but he killed her in front of me. 

“He told me I was soft, I was weak, I was useless to him. Once she was dead, everyone, all my servant friends, turned their backs on me, afraid the same would happen to them.”

Tears formed in Kaloyan’s eyes and he bit his lip a little. 

“You’re the only person who hasn’t abandoned me, Nikolay. Everyone in my life abandoned me and I ran away. Even my runaway friends left me. I know eventually, this will all come to a close and you’ll leave me, too.”

Soon, Kaloyan was sobbing. Nikolay didn’t know whether to comfort the dhampir or listen more. He thought maybe listen more, but Kaloyan kept his silence. 

“Kaloyan,” Nikolay took a deep breath, finding conviction in his chest. “My village had a complicated relationship with me. They gave me the bare necessities because I’m the product of a foreign woman and a dead soldier.”

Kaloyan looked up in surprise at Nikolay, but stayed silent, allowing Nikolay to continue.

“I… I don’t look like the people in my village. I don’t look like the people where my mother is from. She had me and ran off. My father died when I was six. I loved him, but after that, my life was hell. Meeting you, Kaloyan, was the best thing that ever happened to me. Meeting you gave me a break from all that. You didn’t care what I looked like. You never treated me as less.”

Nikolay desperately tried to organize his thoughts. 

“I will never abandon you, Kaloyan, if you promise the same.”

Kaloyan took Nikolay’s hand, squeezing it a little.

“Never.”

—

Nobody stood in Nikolay’s path. Rather, nobody could. Every single creature that tried to stop him fell to the ground with frozen blood. Nikolay couldn’t find it in himself to care for their lives. They were scum, stopping him from reaching the only creature that had ever truly cared for him.

Kaloyan. I have to find Kaloyan.

Kaloyan, I’m coming for you. 

Nikolay could feel himself weakening with each creature he killed. The chains that Dimitar had used certainly did something to his magic, even if he’d managed to break free. 

If only Kaloyan could believe in himself. If only Kaloyan understood his own power, his own strength. 

Nikolay had a sort of platonic love for his dhampir, but he found himself hurting for Kaloyan beyond the pain he felt radiating off of the dhampir. Kaloyan didn’t have any confidence after their time with the Dragon King. Nikolay could think to himself all day about how brave Kaloyan was or how resilient he’d been to survive through such a difficult life - like Nikolay had. He saw so much of himself in Kaloyan. Perhaps that was why they made such great friends.

As Nikolay busted down the cell door, he saw Kaloyan lying there, shivering. He didn’t even have the strength to look up at Nikolay.

“Kaloyan!”

Eventually, Kaloyan did look up at him. Nikolay ran to his side, shaking him. 

“Come on, we need to get up and leave this place. I-I killed Dimitar. There are still a lot of guards, but we can do this! Come on, Kaloyan.”

Teary-eyed, Kaloyan asked, “Don’t you hate me?”

The question caught Nikolay completely off-guard, but it shouldn’t have. “No, of course not! Kaloyan, we can talk about this later.” Nikolay couldn’t help the impatience in his voice. “We need to get out of here!”

Kaloyan opened his mouth, hesitating. Nikolay looked out the door anxiously. There were footsteps. Nikolay didn’t know how much more he had in him to fight.

“Come on!”

Kaloyan stood, weakly. Nikolay, as short as he was compared to the superhumanly tall Kaloyan, helped the dhampir up and started running, never looking back except to check that Kaloyan was still by his side.

They ran for what felt like hours, but, in reality, was likely only thirty minutes. They soon weakened. However much they wished to carry on - perhaps Nikolay more than Kaloyan - they could not. Yet, they had stumbled upon treasure in their rabid run from danger.

In front of the two was a cabin. The boards of the roof were full of holes from snow and the windows shattered. Surely, there would be somewhere inside that the two could hide, Nikolay thought. The moment they entered the cabin, the two of them fell to the ground, unable to go any farther.

Even though the cabin was an obvious hiding spot, Nikolay had the feeling that they would not be found there.

—

When Nikolay awoke, he immediately went to check for Kaloyan. Kaloyan was by his side, but the two of them laid on dirt, not wood.

Nikolay, wincing, stood and looked around. A fig grove? Dates? Peaches? Apricots? Where the hell were they?

“What’s going on?”

Kaloyan looked up at Nikolay, but immediately looked away once Nikolay looked back at him. 

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

A new voice that had a certain draconic hiss filled the forest. “You’re in my domain, wanderers.”

Nikolay jumped, standing in front of Kaloyan. He was in horrific pain, but Kaloyan couldn’t defend himself, not after so much exposure to iron and silver. 

Rustling leaves revealed a short human with a long braid, glasses, and a sweater. On his shoulder was an armored lizard, one that Nikolay had never seen before. The human didn’t appear very human, though. White horns peaked from his head and his eyes had a reptilian gaze. The human was a mage, an old one at that. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Nikolay growled.

The mage considered them for a moment. “I am not going to hurt you. I’m not sure that my magic can.”

As the mage took a step forward, Nikolay backed up, standing closer to Kaloyan. “How can I know that for sure?”

The mage reached out a hand, offering it, palm up. “My name is Malik. As I said before, you’re in my domain. I’m not sure how you found it, but I am sincerely glad that you did.” He pushed his hand forward, Nikolay flinching back in response. “You’re wounded. Let me prove that I come in peace.”

Nikolay thought for a moment. This mage was ancient, old enough to have the power to make his own domain. There would be no way out unless Nikolay or Kaloyan could recover their magic enough to escape. For now, tempting fate and upsetting the mage would not be wise. 

So, Nikolay reached his hand out, giving it to the mage. A glow of green light surrounded Nikolay’s hands and soon enough, the wounds were healed. Nikolay breathed a deep breath, moving his hand. It was scarred and his hand shook. His tendons felt tight. His hands wouldn’t be the same, but the pain was gone and the wounds no longer festered. 

“Are you sure that you come in peace?”

Malik smiled a little. “I made this domain to protect wanderers who needed the service of a Northwestern-bound mage. Come, I’ll feed you two.”

—

Malik’s home was a warm place that smelled of sugar and bread. His gentle smile somehow put Nikolay at ease. Kaloyan, on the other hand, looked worse than ever. He quietly stared out with a traumatized gaze, unable to comprehend that someone was helping them, that they were safe now.

In the hearth, the golden armadillo lizard found its respite.

“The lizard is my bonded fae. Zafira. She’s a mighty ouroboros in her regular form, but she’s mellowed down a lot, as have I. She prefers this lizard form - a form she took after we traveled.” 

Malik handed Nikolay a warm mug of tea. “Would your bonded like to rest?”

Nikolay looked at Kaloyan, who jumped. “Kaloyan, do you want to go lie down?”

“Is it safe?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Malik didn’t answer, leaving it to Nikolay. Nikolay forced a smile at his traumatized friend. “It’s okay. Go rest if you need to.”

Kaloyan nodded after a moment of consideration. Malik took him to one of the guest rooms, returning shortly after. Taking the cup of tea in front of him in his hands, Malik sighed.

“You two have both been through something grave, have you not?”

Nikolay looked off to the side, warming his scarred hands on the mug. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, Nikolay thinking over what to say.

“Maybe we deserved it.”

Malik perked up. “Why would you deserve it, my good mage?”

“I’m not good. I murdered scores to get out of there. I murdered scores under the Dragon King. I burned the village down-”

Nikolay found tears in his eyes. He was safe, at least as long as the mage in front of him decided he would be. His chest heaved as he sobbed for the first time in an eternity.

“I’m an awful person. I deserved everything that happened to me.”

“Did your bonded?”

“What? No!” Nikolay glared at Malik. “He never deserved any of this.”

“You two did the same things, didn’t you? As children, no? If you deserved the tortures you went through, why doesn’t he?”

Nikolay opened his mouth to answer, but found no words. Malik was right, even if he didn’t know how Malik knew what he did.

“I have seen kingdoms come and go over the years, Nikolay. Kings come to power and die. Mortals live very short lives and they often use them for violence. In my time on this land, Nikolay, I have seen many things, but most striking to me has been violence because it’s always a cycle.”

Nikolay, wiping his tears, looked at Malik.

“How would you know?”

Malik chuckled. “I’m over a thousand years old.”

The two sat in silence before Malik started again. “Violence leads to pain and pain leads to violence. Hurt people starting wars against those that hurt them. Leaders with hurt prides attacking the ones who humiliated them. Nikolay, I’ve seen it all when it comes to violence. You do not have to continue the cycle.”

Malik took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Go, live in peace. Your tormentor is dead, as are those who followed him. Nobody will bother you anymore. Break the cycle of violence the way you’ve always wanted to.”

Tears in his eyes, Nikolay took a breath, looking at Malik. “How am I ever supposed to live a normal life after this? How am I supposed to help Kaloyan recover?”

Malik paused, thinking for a moment. “Nikolay, I cannot help you with that. Trauma is a journey. It’s one you shouldn’t travel alone, but you are not alone. You have Kaloyan. You two will find your way. I’m sure of it. There might not be a normal like what you knew before, but you will find a new one.”

Nikolay looked down at the tea he hadn’t yet touched. “What should I do, then?”

“Go and live in peace. Forge your own way. Find your own happiness with your bonded.”

Nikolay hesitated, but soon the image of Malik faded. On the floor of his old cabin, Nikolay blinked awake, a healed Kaloyan next to him. For a moment, he wondered if it had all been a dream. However, he had his scarred hands.

Those scarred hands grounded him as he cried, Kaloyan deep in sleep beside him.

===

Tags: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpworld, @darkthingshappen, @pigeonwhumps, @rabass, @whither-wander-whump, @whumpshaped, @espresso-depresso-system, @oddsconvert

[quietly-by-myself]

Fearless - Chapter 7

Masterlist

Thank you to @darkthingshappen for your beta job and support <3 and @whump-queen and @whumpsday for their persistent support and love for this story. It means the world.

CW: nonhuman whumper, nonhuman whumpee, dhampir whumpee, multiple whumpees, intimate whumper, major character death (whumper), war and all the nasty things that come with it, manipulation, murder, starvation, isolation

===

Nikolay didn’t understand, back then, why the war room was an ingenious invention. The taste of war was forever bittered in his mouth because of his father’s death on the battlefield. 

However, Nikolay was young - fifteen. War was still glorious, to a degree, in his mind. His father had died an honorable death. It was the only reason that anybody helped him at all - there was sympathy for children who were left parentless by the war.

Something didn’t sit right with him, though. He was working for the enemy now. The people who had killed his father.

Why was he even doing it all? The fae creatures around him treated him with a certain disdain that he hated. None of them seemed to see him as an equal to Kaloyan. Then again, wasn’t that no different than the villagers who hated him because he looked foreign? That he looked more like his mother, from the continent?

It really wasn’t that different. If anything, the difference felt less… arbitrary. In a land where war happened between humans and fae, what difference did it make if a human was from the continent? 

The rift between humans was deep, yes, but the rift between species was undoubtedly deeper. And though the fae creatures treated him with disdain, he lived in luxury, not in squalor. They took better care of him, so Nikolay found himself not caring for people he never related to, never cared about. So though he didn’t know what he was fighting for, he fought to keep his lifestyle.

One day, just before a war room meeting, the Dragon King called Nikolay and Kaloyan into his throne room. 

His whole form was covered by a thick, luxurious cloth. All around him, there was fire sitting in beautiful, ornate goblets. The carpet leading up to the throne was thick, made of wool, that somehow didn’t burn with the fire around it. Both Nikolay and Kaloyan were quick to kneel and bow before the Dragon King.

“Nikolay, Kaloyan,” the Dragon King started. Nikolay almost stood up when the Dragon King addressed him first. “You’ve never had the opportunity to see the glory of our war, have you?”

Kaloyan and Nikolay exchanged a glance. Nikolay eventually decided to answer, because the Dragon King addressed him first. “No, Your Greatness.”

The Dragon King chuckled. “Would you like to, Nikolay?”

Nikolay couldn’t help but feel unsettled.  The Dragon King never spoke to him. He didn’t want to see war. He didn’t want to be on the battlefield. However, he had the feeling that he couldn’t say no. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Then you shall.”

The next day, Nikolay and Kaloyan found themselves on a carriage, off to see a village captured by the Dragon King’s forces. They were there, as members of the war room, to ensure that the regent was doing his job. What that meant, Nikolay and Kaloyan weren’t quite sure, but the advisor sent with them would guide them in their work. At least, that’s what the Dragon King had said.

What Nikolay saw when he got to the village made his heart sink. Buildings burnt to the ground. People sleeping in the rubble. Children crying without their parents. Nikolay didn’t know how to react. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t about war. It was about a village. An innocent village. An innocent village the Dragon King had brought ruination upon.

Those children, that child that came up to him and immediately recognized him as human, only to be told to get away, that Nikolay was with the Dragon King, weren’t all that different than he was all those years ago.

It wasn’t the child who’d said the words that stuck with Nikolay the most that day, though. It was a mother. A mother still holding the dead body of her child in her arms.

“You’re a traitor to your kind! How could you have betrayed us for them?”

And she was right.

He was a traitor.

He’d betrayed his father’s sacrifice and for what?

Nothing.

—

“I hate you.”

The words coming out of Kaloyan’s mouth sent chills down Nikolay’s spine. He could feel Kaloyan’s despair, the loss of any will to fight. It was like a light going out, a sink being drained. There was nothing left, none of the spirit that warmed his mind. It was like a piece of Kaloyan was gone. There was something missing, now, and Nikolay found it disturbing.

More than anything, he felt a deep hatred. How dare Dimitar do that to Kaloyan? 

He wanted to get up and beat Dimitar. He wanted to rip that monster’s throat out. He wanted to gouge his eyes, cut off his head, and stick it on a spear, parading it around for the world to see.

But then, he remembered - that was exactly what Dimitar wanted.

Or was it?

Dimitar wanted to break him, to swallow any fight he had left and leave nothing behind. It was his sick way of getting revenge. Revenge that frankly, Nikolay didn’t think he had the right to seek. Yes, Nikolay and Kaloyan had hurt people. Yes, they weren’t always good. However, nobody on the planet would ever hate Nikolay for it as much as Nikolay hated himself.

Maybe it was time to give into that self-hatred. For Kaloyan’s sake. 

Dimitar had put on a show to do something to him. Hurting Kaloyan to beat him into submission, maybe? 

“Now, Nikolay, I know that you haven’t been listening to me, no matter what I’ve done to you.” Dimitar walked over to Nikolay, placing a kick to Kaloyan’s side and knocking him over. “And now I don’t need to hurt Kaloyan to get him to listen. So, I want you to understand something.”

Dimitar grabbed Nikolay’s hair, wrenching his head up. “I will hurt Kaloyan instead of you every time you misbehave. If I can’t break you, seeing your bonded’s pain will.”

By some miracle, he felt that presence that Nikolay had identified long ago as his magic, just a little, like a spark in a dark cave. 

He latched onto the feeling immediately, working his magic into the very cells of his eyes and throat, forcing them to change to his will.

“I’m sorry, Dimitar.”

Tears flowed through his eyes. His voice sounded hoarse.

The way that Dimitar’s eyebrows cocked, the way his brow furrowed, told Nikolay that it was working.

“Just stop. Stop this madness. Stop hurting Kaloyan. Please.”

Dimitar looked at Nikolay, his eyes narrowing.

“Please, Dimitar. Just stop hurting him. Hurt me instead. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Why doesn’t he deserve it, Nikolay? You two are monsters.”

Nikolay used his magic to force himself to sob. He hated it. He hated that he had to look like this. But, it was for the best. It was all for the best.

“I’m sorry for everything, Dimitar.”

“Master.”

Nikolay had to swallow bile and make it seem like a sob.

“Master.”

Dimitar smiled, then picked up the leash he’d brought Kaloyan in by and forced him up by the collar. The two of them left, Kaloyan a sobbing mess and Dimitar as giddy as ever.

That was the last time Nikolay saw anyone that day. In fact, the guard that normally brought him his food only brought a singular glass of water.

It was everything Nikolay had to remind himself that this was for the best. In fact, in that moment of despair, Nikolay had realized that fighting wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Dimitar, for all his arrogance, was a fool. That much Nikolay had noticed. After all, he thought torturing people who he blamed for what happened to his village would change anything. It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t change what had happened.

Nikolay thought back to the child who’d asked what a human was doing with a dhampir. The child who’d been told to get away, that he was with the Dragon King. He wondered, for a fleeting second, if that child had been Dimitar.

It very well could have been. 

Nikolay drank the water, hoping that it hadn’t been poisoned. 

It wasn’t.

The next day, again, no food. Just three glasses of water.

Then again, the day after, three glasses of water, no food.

Nobody came to see him. 

It was peaceful, in a way. At least, it would’ve been had he not been so hungry. 

He looked at the wounds on his hands. They were finally starting to heal. Gods, had he really been trapped here that long? With no sunlight? With no heat except that of his own body?

The thought made Nikolay feel even more ill. He decided to weave his magic into his stomach, to make the hunger go away. To his amazement, it worked. Each time he used his magic, the feeling was stronger. So next, he wove his magic into his hands and numbed the pain.

Again, the feeling became a little stronger. The spark was now a small flame. 

So, Nikolay practiced his magic, wove it on everything and anything he could. He started by turning the gravel different colors. Then, he made the gravel hot and cold. Eventually, he worked his way up to changing the whole ground around him, making it comfortably warm.

The next day came with no contact, no food, just water. The cups were piling up. Nobody had asked for them back, so Nikolay hadn’t given them back.

That magic that had started off as a spark was now a fire burning in the hearth. He finally felt like his magic was strong again. It wasn’t like the wildfire it once was, but it was enough to feel at least a little bit whole again.

Nikolay focused everything he had into himself. He turned off his view of the outside world. It was a meditation that Kaloyan had taught him for his magic long ago.

After all, Nikolay had found out, all those years ago, that he had the ultimate form of Eastern-bound magic. He didn’t believe Kaloyan at first, until Kaloyan made him change a tree branch to pure gold. That was something that nobody could do. Nobody, except the few like Nikolay.

It was difficult to harness, sometimes, but it was a warmth that Nikolay welcomed. A presence that was always there. When it’d left, Nikolay had felt empty. Now, he would reclaim it.

All at once, Nikolay released his magic, changing, changing, changing, warping, warping, warping, until bam! The flames burst from the hearth and engulfed everything.

It was like welcoming an old friend back after a long coma. He felt an indescribable emotion. Something between nostalgia and grief.

The next day, only a singular glass of water.

Nikolay expected, on the sixth day, that he would be greeted by another glass of water. However, he wasn’t. Instead, when he woke up, Dimitar was waiting for him.

“Will you behave?”

Taken aback by the question, Nikolay immediately answered, “Yes.” He paused. “Master.”

Dimitar smiled and pulled a key out of his pocket. He gently unlocked the cuffs around Nikolay’s wrists. 

“Now, I want you to wear a collar, like Kaloyan. It won’t be as beautiful as his, but it’ll still symbolize what I want it to.”

Nikolay nodded.

“No fighting.”

Dimitar leaned down with an iron ring in his hands, moving towards Nikolay’s neck.

It happened all at once.

Nikolay’s hand shot out and grabbed Dimitar’s throat. Without any hesitation, he found that light inside Dimitar and snuffed it out. 

Then, he dropped the temperature of Dimitar’s body. He forced it down and down. Soon enough, Dimitar’s body was ice under his hand. However, it wasn’t enough for Nikolay. He continued. He continued until Dimitar’s body was too cold for his hand and he was sure he was getting frostbite.

When Nikolay let go, Dimitar toppled over, clanging like ice against the floor, and shattered into a thousand splinters. 

Nikolay didn’t need to think twice as he ran out the door. There was only one thing on his mind: find Kaloyan.

===

Tags: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpworld, @darkthingshappen, @pigeonwhumps, @rabass, @whither-wander-whump, @whumpshaped

[whumpy-writings]

"Bite Down on This"

Febuwhump 2024 Day 3

The Dhampir Files Masterlist

CW: Abusive parents (whumpees are adults), lab whump, restraints, carewhumpers, and really, really bad sunburn

"Good morning, boys!" Cal flinched at father's voice and Renn wrapped his arm around him protectively. They had only been released from solitary confinement yesterday. In total, they had spent seventeen days in those dark cells after their escape attempt. Cal was still sensitive to noises, and he clung to Renn like he was the only thing keeping him safe. "We have a big day planned," Father continued. "But first things first - breakfast."

He opened the door to the cell and set down a tray with toast and two mugs of blood.

They ate slowly, Renn keeping one eye on their parents as they moved about the lab. The experiments were starting today, and Renn was ashamed to admit how scared he was.

"All done?" Mother asked. Renn and Cal both nodded. "Perfect, time to go outside." Renn blinked. He couldn't have heard that right. But Father unlocked the cell motioned for the boys to follow them up the stairs.

Cal stumbled on a step and fell to his knees. "I'm sorry, I haven't regained my strength."

Father sighed. "If you had eaten the food we provided you wouldn't be feeling so weak." He grabbed Cal by the elbow and supported him the rest of the way. As they emerged on the first floor for the first time in weeks, Renn was hit by the urge to run. He was fast, and if he could make it to the forest he could lose them. But there was no way Cal would be able to make it, and he couldn't leave him. Renn's heart sank as his hopes of escape dwindled down to zero.

They led them outside. Renn breathed in deeply. The smell of the grass and flowers filled his lungs. It was just before dawn and the sky to the east was a light gray.

Renn stopped walking when he saw the chains on the lawn. "What?"

Father grabbed his shoulder, his grip like iron. "Keep going." He led him closer to the chains. There were four of them, with one end staked into the ground and a metal shackle on the other end.

"Take your shirt off." Renn shook his head, fear closing up his throat.

"Fine." Father grabbed Renn's shirt and yanked it over his head. With his next breath he forced Renn onto his stomach.

"Let go of me!" Renn yelled. But Father was stronger than him and just snapped the shackles shut around his wrists. "Please!" Renn begged, panic building as his ankles were secured in shackles. They were going to leave them here to see how the sun affected them. Renn struggled against the shackles but it was no use. Cal was restrained the same way. He was shaking.

"The sun will be up within the hour," Mother said. "We will come check on you throughout the day."

"You'll kill us! Mother, Father, please don't do this." Renn sobbed, the panic clawing at his throat.

"Don't worry," Mother said, kneeling down and cradling Renn's cheek in her hand. "We won't let you die. You're too important. We'll check on you every hour. If the burns become too severe we'll end the experiment and bring you inside."

With that, they headed back to the safety of the house. Renn strained against the shackles as the world grew brighter. He had only been in the sun once before, when he was twelve and had fallen asleep on the window seat reading. He had forgotten to close the curtains, and when the sun came up he had awoken to burning pain on his face. A chill went up his spine as he remembered how attentive his parents were to his injury. They had been waiting for this moment.

The first rays of sunlight reached down. Renn gasped at the warmth on his back.

"It's okay Renn," Cal said. Renn looked at him. Cal gave him a tight smile. "We'll get through this. Together, alright?"

Renn nodded. He tried to steady his breathing as his back heated up. It didn't hurt. Not yet.

An hour in, their parents came out to check on them. Renn envied their sun cloaks.

"How do you feel, loves?"

"It stings," Ren said.

"How long ago did it start stinging?" Father asked.

"About ten minutes," Ren said.

"Interesting." Father paused and his pencil scratched across his notebook. "What about you, Callum?"

"I don't feel any pain," he said. "At least not yet."

"Fascinating." Father wrote something else down. "Renn's back is turning a pinkish color while Callum's is the same as it was when we started. I can't wait to see how things progress over the day."

Renn choked on a sob. It was going to get worse.

Their parents left them again. "Do you really not feel anything?" Renn asked.

"I mean, my back is warm, but it's not unpleasant."

"Lucky bastard," Renn muttered.

"I'm sure my turn will come."

Another hour passed. Renn squirmed on the ground. Now it burned. He groaned.

"Oh my." He hadn't even heard mother approach. "Renn, you're almost as red as my roses."

"It-it hurts," he stammered. "It hurts so much." He didn't attempt to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. "Please let me come inside. Please."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that, sweetie. We need to test the limits of what your body's capable of. Cal, how do you feel?"

"It's starting to sting," he said. "I can handle it for now. But please, please let Renn go inside. You have enough data."

"No," father said. "We need to know when the third degree burns start. For vampires, it sets in within the first hour. You two are entering hour number three. It looks like Renn is still experiencing first degree burns, and you have barely started to burn yet."

"Stay strong, boys," mother said.

Then they left them again.

Renn was on fire. He was going to burn to death, here in the sun. It wasn't just his back. It was his arms, the backs of his hands, his neck. Everywhere the sun touched was like fire on his skin.

Renn's forehead rested on the ground and he took in a shaky breath. They would see reason soon, right? They would realize that these were their children that they were torturing, and they would come out and get them.

The hours passed slowly. Renn started screaming at noon. The fire was under his skin. It felt like his muscles were roasting on his bones. He sobbed and pulled at the restraints. He rubbed his skin raw and blood trickled down his wrists and ankles, but it was no use.

Their parents came back. Mother knelt down in front of Renn. "You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you."

Renn sobbed. He hated her. He hated both of them. "Please Mom, please make it stop." His throat was raw from screaming but he managed to croak out the plea.

"I'm sorry my beautiful boy, I can't do that," she said. "But you can bite down on this to help with the pain." She had a wooden spoon. Renn almost refused it. He didn't want a fuckin' spoon. He wanted to be inside, safe from the sun. But that obviously wasn't an option. He opened his mouth and bit down on the offered spoon handle.

Cal was feeling the burn now too. His face was coated in sweat and he whimpered. "It won't last forever," he whispered. Renn didn't know if Cal was talking to him or to himself. "It won't last forever."

Renn felt the skin on his back crack and hot blood bubble to the surface. He bit down as hard as he could and screamed.

The next time they came to check on him Renn was barely conscious. The pain was being replaced with numbness. He had given up trying to escape and just lay there in the grass, forehead on the ground as he burned alive.

They asked him something, but he couldn't hear the words. All he heard was the pounding of his heart, which he was sure would burst soon.

He shrieked when a hand touched his wrist, and tried to jerk away. The sudden movement split his burnt skin open and Renn blacked out for a second. They set some sort of fabric on top of him. He should have felt relief because of the protection from the sun's rays, but instead the fabric scratched his wounds and tore another scream from his throat. He bit down and the spoon cracked in half.

"We're taking you inside," Mother said. "You did so good. We're taking you inside now, love."

Renn shook, feeling both like he was burning and like he was frozen as they carried him inside. Father had an arm under his thighs and another gently supporting his neck so he was leaning over his shoulder. That meant that Renn had a clear view of Mother kneeling next to Cal, taking notes as he burned and begged for mercy that wouldn't come.

Taglist: @dragonqueenslayer6 @whumpsday

[quietly-by-myself]

Day 2 & 3 - Stressed and Warm Food (Fearless)

Masterlist

@comfortember

CW: war setting, nonhuman character (dhampir), parental death, neglectful/abusive parent reference

===

Kaloyan paced back and forth, almost wearing a hole into the floor of their cabin. 

Nikolay wasn’t sure what was on Kaloyan’s mind, but whatever it was, it was certainly stressing him out. The tension in Kaloyan’s muscles, and therefore Nikolay’s, was painful. It had been at least an hour since Kaloyan had started pacing, but Nikolay, even after years with his bonded, didn’t have the courage to ask him what was wrong right away.

In a way, it made Nikolay feel a bit pathetic. He wished that he had such courage to be able to discuss emotions as openly as Kaloyan found himself able to. 

No, Nikolay didn’t have much courage at all, not when it mattered. 

What makes him feel better?

The answer came rather quickly to Nikolay - food. Though Kaloyan was a dhampir and didn’t need to eat, Nikolay saw his fae blood in his love for sweets. 

We have flour, right?

Nikolay got up, but Kaloyan didn’t even seem to notice that he’d moved at all. Whatever was on his mind was absorbing him entirely. Nikolay hoped it wasn’t too serious. 

Quietly, Nikolay got out the flour, eggs, and sugar. What could he make quickly? Cookies? Did they have cinnamon? Allspice?

They had allspice, cinnamon, cloves, and molasses. Nikolay decided on allspice cookies. 

He worked with quick and surgical precision to measure everything out. Once the batter was formed and the cookies were ready to bake, Nikolay focused his magic on them. Baking was always easier with his magic - much easier than when he used to bake using an oven and flame. 

A burst of magic lit up the kitchen, then a burst of smell filled in the room. The smell was warm and spicy, yet sweet and comforting. The sound of boots against the floor stopped. Then, they came towards Nikolay and his place in the kitchen. 

“You made cookies?”

Kaloyan was standing in the doorway, his normally pale skin more pale than ever. 

“Yes and I promise that there isn’t any blood in them,” Nikolay teased.

“Good, because those cookies were inedible.” Kaloyan laughed a little, a noise that told Nikolay that despite the stress, his friend, his bonded was going to be okay. 

“Yeah, I um, should have asked you first.” Nikolay smiled, trying to seem reassuring.

Kaloyan grabbed them both plates off of the top shelf and served out the cookies - fresh and hot, but not too hot. Nikolay had cooled them down to the perfect temperature. 

Together, the two of them sat down at their handmade dinner table. Kaloyan hummed happily when he put the sweet, warm, spicy cookies in his mouth. It was always funny to Nikolay how his bonded preferred a sweet, warm, savory cookie to blood. He would’ve always expected a dhampir to prefer that high.

Finally, Nikolay found his courage. “Something’s on your mind.”

Kaloyan put his cookie down on his plate and looked at Nikolay. “Yeah, um…” He paused. “I was thinking about the war. You know, there’s so many people out there dying right now because my father got killed. Sometimes, I feel like it’s my fault for not taking his seat.”

Nikolay looked at Kaloyan with surprise. He didn’t know why he felt surprised at all. It was a conversation they’d had before.

“I don’t think the Dragon King would have accepted you as a replacement. He’s a vengeful dictator looking for any excuse he can get to have a war. Your father’s death was just that - an excuse. Neither of us could have stopped it.”

Kaloyan nodded a little. Nikolay reached out and held his hand. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Nikolay whispered, looking Kaloyan in the eyes.

“I know.”

Nikolay smirked and chuckled. “I don’t think you do.”

Kaloyan chuckled a little. “You’re right. I don’t know.”

===

Tags: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @pigeonwhumps, @darkthingshappen, @whumpworld, @rabass, @whither-wander-whump

[whumpy-writings]

Helpless

Febuwhump 2024 Day 1

The Dhampir Files Masterlist

CW: Non-con drugging, abusive parents (whumpees are adults), carewhumpers, reference to murder of parents

"You're an old man now, ya know that?" Cal leaned against the doorframe, smirking. Renn rolled his eyes.

"You're older than me."

"Exactly. Welcome to the old man club, where our favorite activity is napping and complaining loudly about the weather." Cal crossed the room and ruffled Renn's hair. Renn slapped his hand away playfully.

"But seriously, Renn. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," Renn said. "I honestly can't believe I'm twenty. Part of me didn't think we'd live this long."

Cal sighed. "Wow, way to bring down the mood." He wrapped Renn in a hug. Renn closed his eyes and squeezed his brother back. They were dhampirs, half human and half vampire. They weren't supposed to exist. If the authorities ever discovered them, they would be executed. There had been several close calls over the years, but they had so far evaded detection.

"Boys! Dinner is ready," Silvie called from downstairs. She was the human housekeeper who had taken care of them for the past few years. Ever since things with their vampire parents had gone sour.

The two boys tromped downstairs. Renn breathed in the scent of rosemary roasted chicken. It was his favorite meal.

"It's smells delicious in here." Renn pulled out his chair and settled in, Cal in the chair across from him.

"I would hope so. I've been slaving away at the stove all day. There's mushroom soup, rosemary chicken, mashed potatoes, and a lemon cake for dessert." Silvie put a dish of butter on the table, removed her apron, and sat down.

Renn's mouth watered at the feast. He started to fill his plate. "Thank you, Silvie. Everything looks amazing."

"Anything for you, Renn. Happy birthday."

They talked and laughed as they ate. Renn drank the cup of blood Silvie had provided for him to wash down his dinner.

Silvie brought out the cake and she and Cal fussed over how best to arrange the twenty candles on top.

"Well make a wish," Cal said.

Renn stared at the flickering flames, contemplating. Then he blew out the candles. I wish for twenty more years just like this.

The cake was, of course, heavenly. Renn leaned back in his chair. "I pronounce this birthday feast a success." He got to his feet and started to gather the dirty dishes.

"Hey, I got those," Cal said as he swatted Renn's hand away. Renn let his brother have the dishes. Cal was at the sink when Renn noticed Silvie crying.

"What's wrong?" Renn pulled out a chair next to her, his brow pinched in concern. She looked at her lap and sniffled into a handkerchief.

"Oh, nothing. You boys are just both so grown up." Sylvie looked at him with a sad expression. "It feels like it went by so fast." She stroked his cheek. "I'll miss you."

"What do you mean?" Renn asked. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sylvie's eyes widened. "I mean . . . I'll miss the little boy you used to be."

Renn couldn't suppress his snort. "Really? I think I single-handedly gave you at least three-quarters of your grays."

Sylvie laughed. "You weren't that bad. I only got half from you, the other half came from your brother."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cal called from the sink. "I'm an angel."

"What about that time you brought an entire bucket of frogs into the house?" Renn asked.

Cal spun around. "It was freezing outside! I was trying to save them."

Sylvie chuckled. "I swear my heart almost gave out when I woke up to a frog on my pillow."

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Renn changed into his nightclothes and climbed into bed. It was early spring and he left the window cracked open to get the cool night breeze. The only sounds were the chirping of the crickets and the wind whooshing through the leaves. Renn, Cal, and Sylvie lived in a little house out in the country, far away from prying eyes. It hadn't always been that way. Renn shook off the memory. They were here now, that's what mattered. He was just about to put his candle out when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in."

Sylvie came in, a candle in one hand and a cup in the other.

"I brought you some tea," she said as she set the candle on the table. "I know how much you like the chamomile."

Renn sat up in bed and took the teacup. "Thanks. Does it have-"

"Yes, I put in two dollops of honey."

Renn grinned. "You're the best, Sylvie."

Renn took a sip of the tea. He sighed at the sweetness. Sylvie sat down on the edge of his bed.

"I love you, Renn. Please always remember that."

Renn's forehead creased. "I love you too. Are you alright? You've seemed sad today." He took another sip of his tea. He could feel a headache coming on.

"You've always been such a sweet boy. I asked them for more time, but they said it had to be now."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Renn asked. His vision blurred and his head pounded. He suddenly was so, so tired. Sylvie took the cup from him as he fell back against the pillows.

"I'm sorry," Sylvie said. Renn's eyes widened. She had drugged him. But why? He tried to move away from her but his limbs were as heavy as lead. Sylvie shifted his head into her lap. "Don't fight it. It's no use. Just relax, Renn." Renn's eyes drifted shut. He forced them open. He had to get away. He had to warn Cal. He attempted to yell but all that came out was a strangled sob. He was going to die. He had always thought he would burn to death. That someday the authorities would discover him and Cal and have them burned at the stake for being monstrosities. He had never thought it would be like this. Drugged by the woman who he loved as if she was his own mother.

"It's okay honey, it's okay," Sylvie soothed as she ran a hand through his hair. "You're just going to sleep for a little bit." Renn wanted to pull away from her, but he was completely helpless. The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was the tear sliding down Sylvie's face.

Renn floated in the darkness for what felt like eternity.

"He's more sensitive than Callum," a voice said. "She should have given him a smaller dose."

"She had no way of knowing that," another voice said. "He'll be fine. It'll just take a little longer to get through his system."

Renn whimpered. His head pounded and he had never felt so sore in his life. He blinked his eyes open. The light burned and he snapped them shut again with a groan.

"Ah, you're awake!"

"W-" Renn coughed. His tongue felt thick and a bout of dizziness washed over him. He tried again. "W-where am I?"

"You're home, my beautiful boy. You're finally home." That voice. Renn knew that voice. With enormous effort, he opened his eyes.

"Mother?"

"Yes baby, I'm here." She looked just like he remembered. Long black hair pulled back into a sensible bun, a no-nonsense gray dress, eyes that sparkled with what he had once thought was love. He knew better now.

"You had Sylvie drug me," he said.

His father spoke up. "I'm sorry about that, it must have been unpleasant. But you never would have come home otherwise."

"Of course not!" Renn yelled. His heart pounded and he was hit by the instinct to flee. He had never wanted to see them again. Not after he had seen them murder his human mother and Cal's human father in cold blood. "You killed them. You killed our parents right in front of us."

Father sighed. "For what it's worth, we didn't intend for you and Callum to see that. The only reason we eliminated them was to protect you two."

Renn let out a deep breath. "Why am I here? Where's Cal?" He tested his limbs and found he could barely move a finger.

"Callum's downstairs. We've already spoken with him," Mother said. "As for why you're here, you'll be helping us to push the boundaries of modern science. You and Callum are the first dhampirs to make it to maturity in generations. We know next to nothing on dhampir anatomy and physiology, so we'll be studying you two."

Renn's throat went dry. "You're going to dissect us?"

Father had the audacity to laugh. "Oh no, of course not. We're much more interested in how your bodies work than what they look like on the inside." That wasn't very reassuring.

"You're too special to waste on something as unrefined as dissection," Mother pitched in. Renn closed his eyes as tears burned. "You must be exhausted. Let's take you downstairs."

Renn couldn't fight back as his father picked him up and carried him to his fate.

Taglist: @dragonqueenslayer6 @whumpsday

[quietly-by-myself]

Story Masterlist

Original Fic:

| Mercury, Titanium, and the Balance of Time (Mercury and Time) | Complete |

Louka, a POW turned slave to King William, is freed by Colonel Atticus Dufort, a fast-rising soldier from a country devastated by the war. With King William dead, the war is over. However, something about Louka makes it hard for Colonel Dufort to let go. Together, the two veterans learn to heal from the scars of war. Tropes: war, military whump, POW whump, past noncon, slavery whump, recovery whump, captivity whump Characters: Atticus, Louka

| The Dark Side of the Sun | Complete |

Long ago, Cassius kept Hakon captive, experimenting on him to see if he could turn him into a Tainted. Now a Tainted, Seer of King Myndill, King of the Tainted, Hakon meets Cassius again - this time as King Myndill's captive. Now, Hakon might be the only way that Cassius gets out of King Myndill's captivity alive. Tropes: fantasy whump, whumper-turned-whumpee, whumpee-turned-caretaker, original fantasy universe, torture, captivity whump Characters: Cassius, Hakon, King Myndill

| Smoke, Salt, and Asbestos | Complete |

Briac, a changeling, was kept and tortured by the community he lived in after it was found out that Briac wasn't human. Looking for death, Briac finds himself at the doorstep of what he thought was a church. However, that church turns out to be the Alchemists' Hall, where Silvanus, the Keeper of the Hall takes Briac under his wing. Tropes: fantasy whump, recovery whump, original fantasy universe, nonhuman whumpee, changeling whumpee Characters: Briac, Dubheasa, Silvanus

| Shadow By My Fireplace | Complete | 18+ Content |

One day, while out on his regular trips, Cyril finds a half-dead person outside. That person turns out to have been Shadow, a silent survivor of human trafficking who is in dire need of care. Cyril helps Shadow recover, little by little, in his cabin in the woods. Tropes: slavery/pet whump, past noncon (explicit), recovery whump, silent whumpee, captivity whump Characters: Cyril, Sacha, Emery

| Necropolis of the Dragons | Complete | One Shot |

Jan, the victim of a psychic vampire, is given to Faust, a werecat, to be killed. However, Faust doesn't want to kill Jan, instead bringing him to his old friend Malik for care. Tropes: fantasy whump, vampire whumper Characters: Faust, Malik, Jan

| Fearless | Ongoing |

Nikolay and Kaloyan, a mage and bonded fae creature, once pawns of the Dragon King, are taken by Dimitar, a Tainted who claims to be someone from Nikolay and Kaloyan's past. He's deadset on torturing them, making them bend to their will. Together, the two have to navigate their captivity and torture. Tropes: fantasy whump, torture, captivity whump, war-adjacent, vampire/dhampir whumpee, intimate whumper Characters: Nikolay, Kaloyan, Dimitar

| An Earthly Cosmological Redshift | Ongoing | 18+ Content |

Fearon, an ex-mafioso is captured by the Clan he betrayed. The new Boss, Archimedes, is set on breaking Fearon and making him bow down to his power. Through memories of Fearon's time with his beloved, Jules, and memories of his time with the old Boss, Galileo, Fearon has to find a way to escape - blind. Tropes: mafia whump, blind whumpee, disabled whumpee, vampire whumpee, vampire whumper, whumper-turned-whumpee, lady carewhumper, intimate whumper Characters: Fearon, Archimedes, Galileo, Jules, Hypatia

| Treasure of Ruin | On Hold | Interactive Whump |

You play as the bloodbag whumpee of a mysterious vampire.

| A Wicked Work of Art | Complete | (likely) 18+ content |

Vasiliki, a light mage and doctor, is given a test subject he needs to treat so that the test subject is ready for sale. The subject is in rough shape and is in dire need of medical care. However, the subject is afraid of everything, severely traumatized. Tropes: medical whump, trans whumpee, test subject whumpee, experiment whumpee, fantasy racism, dehumanization, fantasy whump Characters: Vasiliki, Constantine, Akakios

| Across the Silence of the Valley of Dreams | Cancelled | 18+ content |

June, a half-blooded nobleborn witch shapeshifter is arrested for practicing his witchcraft. To escape prison and in hopes of an easier escape, June forms a deal with the royal scientist, Linden, to be his test subject. Linden thinks that June will be the ideal test subject, but June has plans of his own - plans that involve reviving a goddess forgotten to time

Tropes: defiant whumpee, nonhuman whumpee, creepy whumper, carewhumper, shapeshifter whump, lab whump, fantasy whump, medical whump, fictional religion Characters: June, Linden, June's Goddess

Collabs:

| Three Days | Complete | Collab with @darkthingshappen | 18+ content |

An AU of Mercury and Time with an original whumper Finlay, a rich human trafficker, captures Faolan for three days. During this time, Faolan undergoes horrible horrors and things that he will never forget. Tropes: explicit noncon, captivity whump, recapture, slavery whump, intimate whumper Characters: Finlay (belongs to @darkthingshappen), Faolan

| Shattered Shadow | Ongoing | Collab with @oddsconvert |

An AU crossover of Shadow By My Fireplace and Shattered

Vamp!Cyril and Bloodbag!Sacha come to August and Lucas for help after killing Cyril's sire and Sacha's master, Vamp!Emery. August doesn't believe that Cyril has Sacha's best interests in mind. However, once Cyril proves himself, August agrees to help the two recover. Tropes: recovery whump, vampire AU, past noncon, bloodbag whumpee, vampire whumpee, vampire caretaker, multiple caretakers, multiple whumpees Characters: Vamp!Cyril, Bloodbag!Sacha, August (belongs to @oddsconvert), Declan (belongs to @oddsconvert), Lucas (belongs to @oddsconvert)

| The Campfire | Ongoing | Collab with @nyooom |

Lennox is captured by Darius, an enemy solider, after a mission on awry. However, some strange behavior from Lennox rouse Darius' suspicion. As it turns out, Lennox's "special training" wasn't everything that he made it out to be. Tropes: military whump, POW whump, recovery whump, carewhumper Characters: Lennox, Darius, Calahan

Everything bagel people (tagged in all my writing):

i-can-even-burn-salad, whumpsday, pigeonwhumps, oddsconvert

[quietly-by-myself]

March Trope-A-Thon Day 2 - Conditioning + Pet Whump + Creepy Captor

March Trope-A-Thon Masterlist | Story Masterlist

This one is for Fearless. This drabble is non-canon, just a writing exercise. I hope it's still good whump though.

@amonthofwhump

CW: nonhuman whumpee, human whumpee, nonhuman whumper, intimate whumper, vampire/dhampir whumpee, pet whump, training, dehumanization, conditioning, collars, leashes

===

Dimitar stroked Kaloyan’s collar gently, humming to himself. Ever since that day, when he forced Kaloyan to drain a mortal, Kaloyan had been perfect. Too perfect. In fact, Dimitar reckoned he could get Kaloyan to do just about anything.

Unlike Nikolay, who still disobeyed recklessly. No matter how many times Dimitar hurt him, no matter how many times Nikolay sustained dangerous injuries, he still disobeyed.

Dimitar had a feeling that Nikolay was one to break by seeing his fae creature injured.

Thus, Dimitar, petting Kaloyan’s hair, enjoying every moment of Kaloyan’s tense shaking, his fear, created a plan.

“Kaloyan, my dear,” Dimitar hummed, “You’ve been such a good boy. I think I should make you my pet.”

Kaloyan’s shaking stopped. His eyes grew wide.

“Yes, my dear. You won’t be hurt, unless you disobey me. You’ll get to leave this dungeon. It’ll be better, I promise.”

Kaloyan stayed quiet. Dimitar felt a muscle in his eye twitch. This wasn’t the response he wanted.

“Now, you’ll need to prove yourself.”

“M-Master, what about Nikolay?”

Dimitar’s eyes narrowed. “Do not speak of him. He isn’t anything to you anymore.”

That shut Kaloyan right up. Kaloyan whimpered a bit, just like a dog. Perfect.

“Now I want you to kneel.”

Kaloyan did exactly as he was told. He kneeled urgently, sinking lower than he already was. 

“Now, I want you to bow your head.”

Kaloyan bowed his head. Dimitar petted his hair gently. 

“Roll over.”

“What?”

Kaloyan’s voice shook, horrified. He looked up, disobeying Dimitar’s previous order. 

Dimitar grabbed Kaloyan’s hair. “Do you want to be punished again?”

Kaloyan whimpered, closing his crimson eyes. “No, Master.”

“Then, roll over. Kneel with your head bowed once you’re done.” Dimitar threw Kaloyan’s head back and waited patiently. 

After a couple minutes, Kaloyan did as he was told. He tucked his limbs in and rolled, going belly-up before he kneeled again, head bowed.

Dimitar smirked. “Good boy,” he cooed, petting Kaloyan’s hair. 

Kaloyan flinched away at first but Dimitar decided to let it slide. “Now, let’s show Nikolay.”

That got a reaction out of his new-found pet. Kaloyan looked up at Dimitar, before he quickly bowed his head again. He threw no fight as Dimitar put a leash on Kaloyan’s collar and led him to Nikolay’s cell.

“Now, Kaloyan, do you want to show your old friend your new trick?”

Kaloyan stayed still. Nikolay glared from his place on the floor, restrained. “What the fuck did you do to him, you bastard!?”

“You’ll see.” Dimitar leaned into Kaloyan, trying not to be upset with Nikolay. “Roll over.”

Kaloyan kneeled, bowed his head, then tucked his limbs to roll over on his back, before kneeling again. Dimitar could’ve laughed. The dhampir was tall. It was hilarious to watch him obey so perfectly and do what his body wasn’t meant to. 

The look on Nikolay’s face, the horror, the ire, the flaming hot hatred was glorious. Most of all, Dimitar caught something he hadn’t seen in Nikolay’s eyes before - hopelessness. 

Dimitar smirked wickedly. He didn’t need his words as he led Kaloyan back out of the cell, unrestrained, and gave him cooked blood as a treat.

===

Tags: @whumpsday, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpworld, @darkthingshappen, @pigeonwhumps, @rabass, @whither-wander-whump, @whumpshaped

Not otherwise tagged but on everything bagel: @oddsconvert

[quietly-by-myself]

Fearless - Chapter 1 (Pilot)

Remember that fantasy whump teaser I posted a few days ago?

Have a pilot chapter while I work on Shadow By My Fireplace and the final chapter of Smoke, Salt, and Asbestos. I keep my pilot chapters shorter, so I apologize for the short length. I will definitely write more for each chapter in the future.

CW: fantasy whump, vampire (dhampir) whumpee, human whumpee, fae whumper, guns, character gets shot, war, revenge-driven whumper, disproportionate retribution, multiple whumpees, bonded whumpees, creepy whumper

===

Silver-iron bullets whistled through the air behind Nikolay’s head. 

Kaloyan. I have to find Kaloyan.

If his village wanted to be rid of him, Nikolay knew he had no choice. Cold rain pelted his face, thunder storming out the gunshots that came behind him. As Nikolay dodged one of the bullets, his hand touched the ground. Nikolay focused all of his energy into the ground. Beneath him, the ground started to shake. 

“He’s already accepted their witchcraft!” one of the villagers shouted behind him. 

The ground split open beneath him, trapping the villager with the gun in the ground. In some twisted way, as Nikolay ran for his life, the villager with the gun only had a better angle to shoot at him at.

A bullet quickly lodged itself in the back of Nikolay’s knees. Nikolay fell to the ground with a cry of pain.

“Kaloyan! Help me!”

He was nearly at their meeting place. Maybe, just maybe Kaloyan would be there. 

A crash of thunder lit up the sky. Nikolay whimpered as the villagers gained on him. He was bleeding and gods, he was in so much pain.

Blood red eyes met his. Kaloyan.

The ground shook again as green flames erupted from the cracks that formed. Around them.

“It’s the Lord’s bastard son! Everybody, run!”

Kaloyan looked down at Nikolay with a pained look in his eyes. His skin looked more pale than usual against the green fire that blocked the villagers from hurting them any more. 

They were running in fear of the dhampir that was now kneeling next to Nikolay.

“They found out, didn’t they?”

Nikolay nodded, trying to sit up despite the bullet lodged in his leg. “I’m sorry, Kaloyan.”

“It isn’t your fault.” Kaloyan looked sadly at Nikolay. “I wish I could heal you.”

“It really hurts.”

“You can’t walk like that,” Kaloyan said decisively. “You saved my life, Nikolay. It’s only fair that I save yours.”

Nikolay looked at Kaloyan, shock painting his face. However, he could do nothing to stop Kaloyan, now that this mind was made up.

“O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things / That draws oblivions curtains over kings.”

As Kaloyan chanted and the villagers ran and screamed, chains grew from the ground and surrounded Nikolay. At first, Nikolay knew not what was happening, but as his wound started to heal and the bullet disappeared, he suddenly understood.

“Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not / Their names without a Record are forgot.”

Suddenly, Nikolay was filled with a surge of power. Once again, the ground shook. The villagers screamed as the house near them came falling down to the ground. 

“Their parts, their ports, their pomp’s all laid in th’ dust. / Nor wit, nor gold, nor buildings scape times rust.”

Nikolay stood up, the ground shaking everywhere around them but beneath his feet. 

“But he whose name is grav’d in the white stone / Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.”

The chains began to disappear, as did the green fire. Nikolay had never felt so strong as in that moment. Power rushed through every bone in his body.

“Leave!” he bellowed. “Leave us be!”

The few villagers that remained shouted curses at him, but Nikolay was on top of the world with the power surging through him.

He knew what had just happened, though he’d only heard of it in stories.

“Why? Why bond with me Kaloyan? Why make me a mage?”

“There’s no one I’d rather stand by than you, Nikolay.”

Turning his back on his village, Nikolay nodded. “I promise to honor your sacrifice.”

“And I will yours.”

The rain didn’t feel so cold as he walked in the night with his bonded fae, not a bullet to be seen.

—

Nikolay awoke with a start on a cold, hard stone. floor As he looked around frantically, he found that Kaloyan was nowhere to be seen. Chains rattled around his wrists and his neck, wrists, and ankles burned, though he only bore restraints on his wrists, binding them together.

Kaloyan. Kaloyan is in pain.

Who could’ve found us?

Nikolay’s side hurt. Why? What had happened?

The memories flooded back to him. The strange knock on the door. The stranger who claimed to know them. Had he been sent from the forces of the Dragon King? It couldn’t be. Even the Dragon King knew not where he and Kaloyan lived.

The black sclera of the man who walked in the door only served to confuse Nikolay further. 

The person who stood before him was Tainted. The Dragon King banished all Tainted. It wasn’t possible that the Tainted was from the Dragon King, was it?

“I see that you don’t remember me, Nikolay.”

Nikolay stayed quiet, giving the man a sidelong glare as he circled him.

“I sure haven’t forgotten you. I remember that day like it was yesterday. You fucking destroyed my village.”

Nikolay felt a sudden, stabbing pain in his side. He noticed no blood from his own side, but felt like he was bleeding.

“What are you doing to Kaloyan, you bastard!”

“What, you mean that dhampir half-blood bastard?” the man asked with a chuckle. “I’ve waited one hundred years to torture you two.”

“Don’t you dare hurt him! You don’t know the hell he’s been through.”

“And what of the hell you two put me through, Nikolay?”

“I don’t even know you,” Nikolay growled. As he thrashed against his restraints, Nikolay noticed that he felt a certain disconnect from his magic.

Another stabbing pain hit him, this time in the knee.

“I know how you mages are. You’re so very close to your fae creatures. You feel their pain and everything. Each time you piss me off, Kaloyan is going to suffer for it. So, I recommend that you start behaving.” He smirked. “My name is Dimitar. One hundred years ago, you and Kaloyan tore down my village at the order of the Dragon King. I’ve come to exact my revenge.”

Nikolay was beyond angry. He needed to escape. He needed his magic. He needed Kaloyan. 

“Kaloyan and I tore down many villages in our time with the Dragon King. How do I know what village you were from?”

Dimitar scoffed. “Do you seriously think that saying that makes your sins any less heavy?”

Another stabbing pain, this time in the back of his neck.

Nikolay could feel Kaloyan’s anguish. Kaloyan was crying. Kaloyan was begging. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but the feeling was horrible. He was a mage. The two were supposed to protect each other. They were supposed to live in peace, away from the war they escaped, away from the Dragon King, and away from the people they’d hurt.

“Torture me all you want. Just stop hurting Kaloyan.”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that, does it? You two have been bonded, what, for over one hundred years? You practically live in the same body.”

Dimitar laughed as Nikolay fell to the ground, on his face from a sharp stabbing pain in his hip. Kaloyan could survive many stabbings, many more than Nikolay could. However, the pain from all the stab wounds was agonizing. 

“I’ll definitely have fun torturing you both before I kill you.” He smiled. “I think a reunion is in order, no? It’ll be fun.”

Nikolay seemed to have a very different definition of “fun.”

===

Everything bagel tags: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday