#oc whump

[silver-bunnyspell]

Inquisitor Isidore Toller from my fanfiction What You Deserve!! :)

[dying-crying-pining]

whump tropes that make it into every single thing i write because i’m unoriginal:

• trauma reveal by bedridden/weakened/recovering character

• blood-loss related collapse

• somebody gets shot/stabbed/impaled in the chest/gut region

• face holding/checking for injuries

• gentle and/or frantic manhandling (bonus points if hurt character is extra floppy lol)

• fading in and out

• A (who’s usually bleeding out) asks B if they’re ok, cue B trying not to burst into tears or getting pissed off

• A returns to work/regular activities/battle too soon after injury and needs to be scraped off the floor and tucked back into bed by B

[sacredwrath]

P14. Be Very Afraid

I feel like this one deserves an extra warning. Not sure I can "diagnose" exactly what's going on here, but for those with mental health issues related to the content warning list, just be extra cautious <3

Masochistic meltdown, !!!extreme self-harm!!! suicidal thoughts, masochism, self hatred, gore, sadistic fantasies/ feelings, referenced torture, touch aversion, PTSD, disorientation, dissociation, sensory issues, nausea, unhinged raving

!!!disturbing imagery/ hallucinations: needles, hands, screaming!!!

Adrian paces.

He tries to count his steps, but keeps losing track as he fumes.

He can still feel her phantom touch on him, fingers light against his neck. On his skin. Exposed. Her fingers grazing the back of his neck. On his neck. exposed- He slaps the spot, hard. Not enough

Rage

He needs to hurt someone. Needs to make them bleed.

She cowers on the floor, clear in his minds eye- no! She cowers from him- no- Not her, not enough. He barely touched her. Not enough. He will hurt her. Make her beg. Beg like he did, like Jesse did- pathetic cringing creature

He sees Jesse's broken body, wet eyes begging, feels their trembling body against his own, feels them holding him. his guts clench. Revolting disgusting pathetic- he banishes the vision

He's hot, dizzy and sick, a loud ringing in his ears, pulsing in time with his racing heart. Each beat sends waves of heat scorching through him.

Someone's screaming again. Screaming in his head. He hates it. Hates their noise, their weakness

“Shut up!!” he roars, clamping his hands over his ears. Fucking disgusting creature

Jesse's screaming. He hears their muffled sobs through his their cell door

Should he open it let them in?

He watches them cower from him. Good

He hears their begging. Desperate pleas for mercy. Little jerks and twitches of pain as he holds them underwater. Yes

He holds them underwater. Yes!

He's burning. Sweat like battery acid on his skin, but no pain. Why doesn't it hurt? It should hurt. He needs it to hurt to feel it

Needs it needs it needs it-needs - Shut up! He smacks himself across the face.

Pull yourself together.

But he burns. Burns with a sickening lack of sensation, a numbness that picks at him like millions of tiny needles. Taunting him. Tickling his skin. Digging gentle points into him never far enough to actually hurt

She touched him and it didn't hurt

It hurts

He shrieks in frustration.

Rage

Humiliation

Whirling, he grabs the cot and smashes it into the wall. Wooden legs shattering against the brick sending shards flying around him. He can't stop the screaming! Not enough!

Fingers in his hair, pulling, twisting, wrenching harder. Tearing. More more MORE! Wetness on his scalp, on his fingers. His hands! Not enough!!!

Every hair on his head, his body, he can feel them. Droplets of acidic sweat. Tiny needless tracing over him taunting, tingling crawling. He slaps his skin, trying to swat them away, but they congregate on his neck, his back, the places she touched him. He feels them under his skin burrowing- He needs them out out

OUT!

He drags his nails across his neck, no pain. Fucking numb itching, making him sick. He needs more! Anything!

Viscious scratching at his neck, OFF OFF OFF he needs her fingers OFF of him! He needs more than that he needs to feel her fingers breaking.

The grind and pop of a joint giving up, the loose ripping of muscle and tendon as parts never meant to hold a finger together stretch past their limits. Further! The sharp crack of bone breaking- screaming- The limp wiggle of a body part broken in half, held together by nothing but frail skin. Her screaming. Yes her screams-

Screaming

He scratches harder, feeling the first layers of skin come away, bunching up under his nails. HARDER 

He tears at his neck, his arms, his chest. He digs deeper, trying to claw his way out of himself.

Weak cowardly thing- its what it deserves. What he deserves. needs it needs it so badly it hurts

NEED

Blood on his fingers. Yes

Who is fucking screaming? There's always someone fucking screaming. THERE'S ALWAYS SOMEONE FUCKING SCREAMING!! Jesse again? Someone screaming! in his head? Why can't he tell?

Is he screaming?

He can't fucking take it anymore

His legs, he remembers his legs, the burns, he reaches down for them, but there's something in the way, fabric.

He rips his pants off, hurling them away, collapsing hard to the floor. He huddles there, against the wall, shaking, always fucking shaking!!! Revolting, pathetic, disgusting.

Should've killed yourself years ago. Coward

Nausea churns his stomach

He can't handle it. Never could, never will

He needs someone bleeding. Blood on his hands. Knife in his hand. Screaming to drown out the screams in his head.

He needs someone to hurt. anyone, anything

He brushes finger tips against the burns on his legs, groaning. Sensation, no pain, his stomach turns. Not enough! Never enough! WHY CANT HE FUCKING FEEL IT?!

He digs in, pain, but it's nothing. NOTHING!

He digs his nails deep, gasping as he finally feels, still nowhere fucking near enough!

He drags his nails slowly down his legs, gasping. Lose blistered skin giving way like wet paper. For a second blinding white pain overwhelms him. Finally

He rips a set of stitches open in one brutal motion, falling back against the wall, panting in relief as the agony washes through him. More

He scrabbles on the floor for one of the wood splinters. Desperate, revolting animal-

He jabs it into his leg and the world contracts, narrowing to the pain

Silence

His eyes roll back and he moans, extacy, torture

He digs the spike further, feeling the tip scrape against bone

A string of siliva slips over his numb lower lip

Agony throbs in time with his beating heart

His eyes flicker, his body suddenly very heavy. Almost impossible to keep upright

Fingers search the floor for another spike

He's losing consciousness now. He can feel his brain shutting down. But he needs another, just one more. He feels around for a spot then digs the spike into burned meat. His body convulses, trying to escape the torment, but he forces it still, digging deeper, reveling in its pathetic struggle

The agony is so hot he feels himself unraveling in it. Finally. He whimpers, thoughts fragmenting unable to hold him

Deeper

His consciousness pours out of him like the blood spilling from his punctured body and he collapses like a stone

Prev | Masterpost | Next

Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them @kiichu @whatwhump @jay--o @starsick1979 @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @syncopein3d @fuckcapitalismasshole

[melpomenelamusa]

Melpómene´s whump stories archive

To celebrate the new year, I've decided to share with you some of my favorite whump stories I read this year as a thank you to all the authors who share a little bit of their world with us 💜✨

My plan is to update this list annually and have it function as a sort of personal archive for me, hehe, but you can use it too if you'd like! 😁

Melpómene's personal favorites:

🩸Shattered (by @oddsconvert): An anti-human-blood-drinking vampire doctor tries to save the life of a human who for years was the bloodbag of a vampire I really hate.

🔪Total $hit$how (by @befuddled-calico-whump): 5 misfits escaping prison for their criminal records are hired by a mysterious organization to stop another mysterious, but more evil, sci-fi organization (Benji, my son).

🩸Blood and tears (by @whumpisgoodwhumpislife): A little half-vampire is suffering too much and a human decides to take care of him and protect him (They are both my babies).

🪄Forsaken (by @inhurtandincomfort): A young wizard, condemned by a pact he made with a misterious entity in the past, is trained and used as a living weapon by a malevolent institution in a fantasy world. Ft. some loser boy mad scientist.

🎣In troubled water (by @whumpisgoodwhumpislife): A little mer anglerfish suffers. That's it. Also known as "my poor fish baby".

Others amazing stories I've read/I'm reading:

📸Smile for the camera! (by @morning-star-whump ): A boy is kidnapped by a psychopath from the deep web. His parents and his little boyfriend try to find him (Andre Vazquez is the best character).

👑Darius & Mianu (by @geode-crystal): A traumatized prince and his faithful knight/boyfriend want to live happily ever after, but something always happens.

👹The Bahkauv (by @deluxewhump): Three friends decide to buy a magical creature to study; but what seemed like nothing more than a monster or an animal may turn out to be a companion.

⚡Overloaded (by @fleur-a-whump): The son of a supervillain wants to join the good guys, but discovers that "heroes" can be just as cruel as villains.

⚓Voyagers (by @sorrowful-hyacinth): A jerk sea captain captures a jerk mermaid prince and they torture each other. They both deserve it because they're such bastards, but you also feel bad for them and it's complicated.

⛓️A taste of your own medicine (by @oddsconvert): Whumper gets kidnapped and torture along with his ex-whumpee by an even evil whumper. Only one person is having fun here.

👨‍👦With me (by @greatgigintheskiess): A bitter guy living in the woods accidentally rescues a little boy who escaped from an evil laboratory. Parental caretaker my beloved.

🪐Humanity Collector (by @rabbit-flaying): A cosmic creature who likes to collect human things decides to add a real human to its collection (A cosmic horror one-shot).

🧵Writemas 2024 (by @tildeathiwillwrite): A woman suffers the mysterious death (or murder?) of her husband. This is the kind of story I would love to read in a printed book and recommend to my entire family.

🦌Whumpcember 2024 (by @kabie-whump): An evil wizard has turned Santa's reindeer into humans, who now have to live with their new bodies. A series of shorts with very interesting and cute characters that I definitely need to keep reading if I could.

🪢My favorite stories by @writinglittlepains: Speedster, Aleksander's Plight and Sweet Fins are my favorites!

⚖️Guilt & Revenge (by @what-if-i-just-did): A traumatized ex-bully is kidnapped by the kids he used to bully as a kid because he couldn't afford therapy and is brutally tortured by those who actually happened to be the ones who needed therapy.

🫂We Are TroubleD (by @whumpty-dumpty-doo): Two best friends are kidnapped by a guy who originally planned to capture one of them for ransom, but now is just torturing them for fun.

⛈️Ventis and friends (by @kabie-whump): A half draconic half air elemental and his varied adventures in a fantasy world *kindly slaps Ventis* This bad boy can fit so much trauma in him.

🛡️Drusus & Keme (by @whumperofworlds): Don´t know why it took me so long to add the whumpable husbands to the list. There´s whump! And fluffy married love! And used as bait!

🪦Curse of Withering (by @sir-fenris): A magical boy with the power to kill everything he touches is imprisoned and used as a living military weapon.

🎀Pretty whumpee (by @string-of-broken-hearts): Pretty whumpe and carewhumper. I really need to know the context, I'm so intrigued.

👿Karma's B*tch (by @whumpthusiast): A pathetic guy kidnaps the wrong woman and now it backfired.

👥Group Whumpees (by @haro-whumps): A young man inherits his eccentric aunt's house after her death and discovers that she had enslaved and tortured six servants. It's now his job to try to restore them to a sense of humanity.

[kabie-whump]

‪‪♡‬ Febuwhump 2025 Day 6: Forced to Stay Awake ‪‪♡‬

Or: Mage whumpee forced to stay awake to keep up a magic barrier so all of their friends don't die a horrible death.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Stay with me, Whumpee. You have to keep going.”

Whumpee’s whole body trembles, their hands outstretched over a glowing circle of runes, fingers twitching as golden light pulses from their palms. Their vision swims, their limbs feel like stone, and their thoughts are slow, sluggish things. How many hours has it even been?

Too many. 

“I-I can’t,” they choke out, their words slow and slurred. The magic is icy cold inside their chest, sapping every ounce of energy they can muster. Their head lolls forward, and it’s only thanks to a strong pair of hands that they manage to stay in their kneeling position instead of slumping to the floor.

“You have to,” Caretaker says, their voice firm. “No pressure, Whumpee, but we all die if you let go of this barrier.”

Whumpee forces their eyes open. A shimmering golden dome surrounds their little group, and on the other side they can see shadowy figures clawing at its surface, dark tendrils slamming against it with enough force to shake the ground beneath them.

Caretaker’s right. If they fall asleep, everyone dies.

But they’re so, so tired.

A shudder wracks their body. They’re running on sheer force of will now. Everything else was burned out hours ago. It’s not enough. It was never going to be enough. They’re just one mage, and not even a particularly powerful one, and they don’t even know for sure that help is on the way.

Whumpee sobs, shaking their head. They don’t want to be the reason no one makes it home. But they just can’t keep this up.

Caretaker puts a firm hand on their shoulder. “Whumpee. Breathe.”

They suck in a gasping breath.

“Good. Again. Just focus on breathing.”

Another breath. Their head swims. They can’t even see straight anymore. The runes flicker.

“Come on! Stay awake!”

Whumpee barely hears them. Their thoughts have dissolved into static. 

Sleep. Just a few minutes of rest-

A sharp pain jolts them back. Caretaker had pinched the delicate skin of their wrist hard, leaving a little purple mark. 

“Focus!” Caretaker’s voice wavers - maybe fear, maybe guilt. “Just a little longer!”

“I… I can’t! Stop it!”

“You can sleep as much as you want when this is over, I promise. But for now you’re staying awake, even if I have to force you.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

@febuwhump

[elliehallers]

Me with my favorite OCs:

[whumble-beeee]

You Look So Much Prettier This Way

Poor Stan. What will you do to get out of this predicament, I wonder?

What will you do when fighting back isn't even an option?

Stan sat stunned. He couldn't speak. He couldn't scream for help, he couldn't complain, he couldn't quip, he couldn't stand, he couldn't struggle, hell, he could barely even move.

He wanted to cry.

His face hurt from where they punched him. His neck hurt from where they grabbed him. His entire body hurt from where they'd manhandled him to the ground and pinned him down and tied him up, choking him, punching him if he dared flinch, or god forbid he struggled against their grasp.

And after all that excessive tying, the rope that scratched against his tender skin and pressed in on his ribcage in a suffocating embrace.

They'd gotten out the duct tape. His heart stuttered, eyes wide. He started to scream, he kicked out at them.

Big mistake. As soon as they finished they mortifying ordeal of wrapping his mouth in layer after layer of duct tape, they slammed him down onto his back and hoisted his legs into the air, bent them into the most odd position, and by the time Stan realized that had still more rope, they were already wrapping it around his ankles and his thighs.

Over and over.

He tried to scream. They kicked him. He screamed some more into the duct tape gag. More blows. Tears. It didn't stop. He couldn't even curl in on himself to protect his soft underbelly.

Then they plopped him on the floor.

Surrounded him.

Appraised him, hungry eyes searching over his body.

Stan couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

The one he thought to be the leader stepped foreward.

Knelt in front of him, cupped Stan's cheek in their hand.

Stan could barely even find the strength to jerk away, and when he did, they just grabbed his collar and yanked him back, made him stare right into their ruthless shark-like eyes. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop them.

"You look so much prettier this way," they lulled. "I wonder if your friends will agree when they come to find you."

* * * * * * * *

Whumptober 2024 | Day 7 | The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

Stan is an OC that belongs to The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping!

Whumptober Taglist: @whumperofworlds | @whumptober-archive | @regular-whump-sfx

(If you wanna be added or subtracted from the taglist, don't be afraid to ask!)

[ohbandera]

day 9: Injury

When u get shot by an arrow and then strike a pose

[inhurtandincomfort]

A Night to Regret

CW: Kidnapping, abusive relationship

Part 2 / masterlist

“Hey babe,” Kieran answered his phone with a grin, “Yeah, I’m on my way back now. Guess what? I’ve got a job!” 

“Really? That’s amazing!” He pulled it back from his ear as Abigail squealed, “What is it?” 

“It’s a short film, an original horror I think. I don’t know all the details, Kate said she’d email them to me first thing Monday. It’s a student film, but they’ve done quite a few popular ones.” 

“You know what this means? Celebration! We should invite Mike and Lisa, I’ll see if Cameron’s free too, and Jaysen, though I think he’s busy…”

Kieran laughed softly, “Is that really necessary? I was thinking we could just have a quiet night in, just the two of us.”  

“We do that all the time! Come on, we haven’t had a get together in ages. It’ll be fun. We’ll order pizza, and if you pick up some drinks on your way home… ooh, make sure you get some of that beer I like.”  “Since when did this become about you?” 

“I’ll pay for everything!” 

He smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “I got it, don’t worry. You order some pizzas, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” 

“Love you!”

Kieran slid his phone into his pocket, making a u-turn to head towards their favoured liquor store. He shivered, hugging himself as he walked down the quiet street. Strange, to be so quiet on a Saturday evening; it was freezing, he reasoned. It wasn’t that late, but the sun set early this time of year and a starless sky made the frigid air seem bleak. Still, deserted streets always held an eerie feeling. Though they weren’t completely empty, he only saw an occasional passerby in thick coats, scarves weaved around their faces. Man, he should have brought a scarf; his lips were probably turning blue. 

A small, childish part of him wished he had stayed talking with Abigail. Past every alley, every covered stranger, a chill crept up his spine that had nothing to do with the weather. He considered calling her back. She was probably calling their friends though. You’re worrying over nothing, he scolded himself. He was a grown-ass man, he could handle walking down a street himself, the same route he’d taken many times before. Alone. In the dark. 

Abigail kept telling him he should ask his doctor about anxiety meds. Maybe she was right. 

He was relieved when he made it to the store, offering him a brief respite. There was only one other customer who seemed to be studying two bottles intently. Kieran made his purchase, making easy small talk with the grizzled cashier trying to ignore his stomach twisting in knots.

He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get warm, an awkward motion carrying bags of glass bottles. He hummed to himself as he walked, a cheesy romance he hoped would stave off anxious thoughts. He glanced behind. A couple of men were trailing at a steady pace, scarves concealing their faces. He turned back to face forward, his pace quickening just slightly. People are allowed to walk behind you, Kieran. He told himself firmly. Learning to face your fears is an important part of recovery. Don’t let anxiety control you. 

…But he’d also been taught to follow his instincts. What was he supposed to do when every gut feeling told him to run? 

He considered stopping to let them pass. Would that just make him seem suspicious? It would probably be weird. Home wasn’t far, he’d be there soon. A black car with tinted windows was parked up ahead. Had it ever been there before? He shook his head. Paranoid. He’s just paranoid. Lukas had always said so. It was hardly an unusual car, it’s no surprise he’d never noticed it. And people were allowed to visit.

Still, as he got closer his shoulders hunched, blood rushing in his ears. His stomach cramped, tightening painfully as every signal in his body rang wrong, wrong, wrong. Something was wrong. He halted in his tracks, willing himself to move, his body frozen as his mind raced, every alarm bell screaming go back, go back, danger danger dangerdanger-

A heavy weight slung around his shoulders drawing him in. He opened his mouth to yell, a gloved hand silencing him. Something hard pressed into his back, small and rounded and fuck, this wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening-

“Don’t make a sound,” A gruff voice whispered, a voice that didn’t sound natural. They were trying to disguise it. “Come with us quietly, and there won’t be any problems.” 

Kieran nodded numbly, his heart hammering against his chest. With a small nudge from whoever stood behind, with a gun did they have a gun please say that’s not a gun he was bundled into the black car where someone was already waiting to drive away. Two men sat either side of him, blocking every exit.

“Head down,” One commanded, shoving his head to his knees before he even had a chance to do so himself. His shopping bag was placed by their feet. They’d probably take the drinks for themselves. They took his phone too, along with his wallet leaving him with no form of identification. 

“Who are you?” Kieran dared to ask, his voice trembling. “Where are we going?”

“Shut up.” 

They were going to kill him. Oh god, he was going to be murdered, his body thrown in a woods somewhere or a lake or burned and oh god. Would they ever find him? Would his mother get to bury him? What about Abi, would she blame herself? How long would it take her to grow concerned? Was she already pacing around anxiously, wringing her hands, waiting for him to come home?

When they were out of city limits, they pushed him to the floor, wrapping cloth around his eyes, binding his wrists and ankles with duct tape which they also placed over his mouth. They must have driven for miles. He was transferred to another vehicle at some point, open conversations taking place in a language he couldn’t understand. Occasionally they’d rip the tape off to pour water down his throat. He fell asleep at one point, he thought. It was all a haze, fuzzy memories leaving him unable to distinguish what’s real and what is fake. 

Next thing he knew he was being roughly dragged outside, mud staining his clothes as  he was thrown to the floor. 

“Good to see you again, Angel.” 

Kieran stilled, every hair on his neck stood on end, his heart leapt to his throat. He thought it might just stop. 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Lukas jeered, his honeyed voice washed over Kieran like acid. The blindfold was yanked off his face, letting him look up to a man he wished he’d forgotten. 

Calloused fingers cupped his cheek tenderly, bronze eyes filled with such gentle warmth met his own. He used to melt under that same gaze, putty in his hands. He would have done anything to please him, debased himself in so many ways just to see those soft eyes look at him once more. 

Now they just filled him with fear. 

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it Angel? Were you afraid you wouldn't see me again? I was beside myself. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing your face, haunting me like an enthralling ghost. I didn’t know what to do, I was so lost without you.” Lukas grabbed Kierans face in both hands, leaning in so close their noses almost touched, staring deep into his eyes in a way that made his skin crawl. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be some horrible nightmare, he was gone, he got out, he fled across half the country just to be safe and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell, wanted to kick and scratch and do anything that would get him out of here, anything to never be trapped with this monster again. 

But his limbs were bound, his mouth stuffed full of cloth. Even if they weren’t, he wasn’t sure he was capable of it. He’d never fought back then. He hadn’t changed at all, not really. He was still the same meek figure he’d been back then. 

“You should never have left me Angel,” Lukas breathed, his breath hot on his face. “You’ll never leave me again.”

If you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it really helps the reach and lets others enjoy it too!

Being kidnapped by your abusive ex is bad enough - even worse is Lukas needs to make money. How will he do that? Hurting his Angel on camera, of course <3

[silver-bunnyspell]

Another What you Deserve art! This time based on Chapter 8. Butterfly under a pin

I'm kind of new here so please feel free to tell me if I missed some tags!

[dying-crying-pining]

whump tropes in everything i write pt. 2:

• that pause and dizzy sway A does after a fight/ordeal/magic overuse. B grabs a fistful of A’s shirt to steady them

• running a character into the ground: every time they get a second to rest, another fight happens/they’re on the run again/they’re attacked. bonus points if they’re in the same outfit the whole time and it progressively gets bloodier, more stained and ripped—makes that final collapse sooo good

• A is on the verge of completely losing it, shaking hands/frantic pacing, whether that’s bc anxiety/the horrors™️/the plot etc. B is the only person who can ground them. Love a good forced hug that A resists but B’s stronger and it turns into B guiding A to the floor as A melts into them

• A hiding an illness/injury right up until they literally tip over and give B the fright of their life

• a character coughing up blood and still pushing thru

• obligatory homoerotic wound cleaning: A and B both covered in A’s blood. lots of shushing. frantic soothing. very handsy. bonus points if B is inexperienced and freaking the f out while A is delirious & breathlessly trying to comfort them

[kabie-whump]

♡‬ Febuwhump 2025 Day 9: Necromancy ‪‪♡‬

// torture mentions, character death, bound and gagged

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Whumpee was relieved when Whumper killed them.

It had been a mercy. A final end to the pain. 

But it doesn’t last.

Whumpee gasps violently, their whole body seizing against tight restraints. Agony floods their body, an unbearable feeling after they’d spent the last few hours floating in total nothingness.

“Oh thank the gods.”

No.

That’s Whumper’s voice. It all floods back to Whumpee, the torture, the blood loss, the loopy ecestacy of finally succumbing to it all. 

“I lost you for a little while there.”

No no no no no it’s not fair.

Whumpee squeezes their eyes closed, a muffled sob escaping from behind their gag as they try to come to terms with the fact that it’s not over.

“You didn’t seriously expect me to just let you go, did you?”

Tears stream down the sides of Whumpee’s face, soaking into their hairline. They scream through the gag, because this isn’t fair and it’s supposed to be over and they don’t want to fucking be here anymore.

“Mhm, yeah. It’s good to see you too. Now, let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

@febuwhump

[sacredwrath]

P12. Whip em 101

Torture, whip, panic attack?, defiant whumpee

The whip is slick in Logan's sweaty hands. Fury boils off of him in waves. He wouldn't be surprised if he was physically steaming.

His shirt is still damp with Jesse's tears. He touches the spot, holding it to him like they're still in his arms. He wants to see Morgan cry like that, wants to see him broken like that. What kind of monster-

He hears muffled noises through the door and unlocks it.

“Oh. Just you.” Morgan lounges on the floor, somehow managing to look nonchalant despite his ragged condition. “Thought I heard someone collecting themself outside my door. Thought it might be Jesse.” He pouts

“Why the fuck would Jesse come to see you?” what do you want with them?

“I don't know, it's not like we have history or anything.” He quips

“History that should stay buried in the past.”

He shrugs. “History's history. I'll bet they want the chance to smack me around a bit, ya know, now the tables have turned.”

“That's what I'm here for. They don't want your stink anywhere near them.”

He sniffs, feigning offense. “Hey! Can't blame me for that! You're the one with the shower.”

“Shut up Adrian.”

“Hm, well, looks like you took my advice.” He nods at the whip. “You know how to use one of those?”

“Yes.” he lies

“Oh really? You practice in your bedroom before coming down here?” he smirks.

Logan ignores him, adjusting the whip in his hand

“Go on then, show me what you've got.”

How does this man make him feel like a child even now? It's part of the mind games he plays, but knowing the trick doesn't make it any less effective. He throws the whip, but he's off center and it doesn't crack, just flops lamely in his hand

“Wow… scary.” Adrian mocks. “You need more snap in your wrist.”

Logan just glares at him.

“Hey I'm only tryin to help you. Otherwise we'll just sit here all night while you fumble around with that thing. Go on, try it again. I promise, I won't laugh.” he arranges his face in an expression of attentive over seriousness

“I'm not letting you pretend you're the one in charge here I-” Morgan cuts him off

“Oh please. Spare me your little ego trip.” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Thats real torture. You think there's anything you can do to me I haven't seen before? I might be the one in chains, but baby you're in my fucking world now. This is my life. I'm not pretending you scare me.”

“Weren't so brave last time I saw you.” He snaps. “How're your knees?”

He grins. “Pain’s easy. Anyone can cause pain. Torture is different. Ask Jesse about it next time you're havin a heart to heart.” he winks

Logan growls, raising the whip again.

“There we go! Now, that's almost the form you want, but your swing is too curved. It's not a hammer, your goal isn't to bash me over the head with it. Come on, try to hit me like that.”

To his immense irritation he misses completely.

“See. Think of the whip as an extension of your arm-”

Logan gasps. This fucker can't be serious!

“I'm serious! The point of a whip is to conduct and amplify force along its length into a single point. To do that, your arm needs to mimic the same motion. Think of it like your arm is uncurling from your shoulder then the whip is continuing that motion, uncurling from your hand.”

Logan gives in, trying to follow his instruction. He can feel what the man is describing. Why the hell would he give him good information?

“That's it, you've almost got it, just try to keep your arm straight up and down. Almost like a punch, not a swing.”

He tries again, feeling it crack in his hand. Finally

“There you go, champ!” Morgan claps enthusiasticly. “Now try to hit me with it.” He turns, shrugging off his shirt and presenting his bandaged back. “Just the tip mind.” he smirks

Logan misses the first strike, but his second connects. He grins at Morgan's sudden intake of breath. Before the man can speak he hits him again and Morgan drops to his knees with a cry of pain.

“What? No more smart ass critiques?”

Morgan says nothing

Logan strikes out again, but misses. The man doubles over, gasping regardless.

“Oh you think you're funny?” He hits him again. This strike falling directly across a bandage

Morgan curls in on himself making a noise that almost sounds like a whimper.

“Knock it off fucker. I know that didn't hurt you.”

He cringes, arms wrapping around himself burying his face in the floor.

“Morgan!” He snaps annoyed. It's always some new game with this man. Some new trick. What the hell is this supposed to accomplish?

Logan stalks towards him, clamping a hand on the mans shoulder and dragging him up. Soft keening noises like the sound of a wounded animal issue from his lips, though he doesn't resist.

“Morgan what the fuck?” The man trembles in his grasp. He stares off, gaze vague and unfocused, somewhere past Logan, not really seeing him.

“Hey, Morgan.” He snaps his fingers in front of the man and he flinches back, shrinking away in what can only be fear

“Please.” He whispers

This can't be real. He has to be faking to get out of a whipping, but it's unnerving

The man shrinks away from him. Tears spill over his lashes, but he clutches Logans hand like a lifeline.

"Please. I'll do anything... please... I'm sorry. I swear next time I'll listen to you. I- I- I'll- I'm sorry. Just no more, please no more."

Logan sits dumbfounded. Completely at a loss. The anger in him wants to ignore the man's pleas and do when he came here to do. After all, it's not like anyone would want to be whipped. Makes sense he's begging. He had, on some level, been wanting a reaction like this, hadn't he?

But another part of him balks at the idea

Without warning, something snaps in the man. He starts screaming.

He flails backwards so fast he trips, sprawling on all fours, eyes rolling in his head. His arms fly up to cover his face in supplication or defense Logan can't tell, beside himself in a frantic effort to get away.

His body convulses, breathing so rapidly he runs out of air, screams, turning to whimpered gasps.

"Calm down, what the fuck man." Logan tosses the whip aside, approaching him with hands up in surrender

The man cowers into the corner, lips going purple as he gasps like a fish out of water. Tear filled eyes flickering as they roll up into his head. He colapses. Body going suddenly limp in a heap on the floor.

What the actual fucking hell! Logan fumbles in his pocket for his phone. Misha. The man needs Misha. She'll know what happened, what to do. With clumsy fingers, he taps out a quick message.

Please come quick, somethings happened.

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Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them @kiichu @whatwhump @jay--o @starsick1979

[melpomenelamusa]

A Happy (Not Yet) Ending - Chimeras

~Original story~

Previous

CW: Mention of past captivity, mention of past pet whump.

A/N: Season One Finale is here!!! More like an epilogue, actually, and also a bit long. I´m so happy to have finally written it!!!

"I hope everyone’s hungry for bacon and eggs."

It was past eleven in the morning, but no one cared about having breakfast at that hour, after all, they had all slept in.

Warrick served the plates. The dining table had never been so full; they had even dragged a wooden stool from the shed to squeeze the five bodies around the small rectangular table so they could eat comfortably.

Tigri's hair was messy, and his eyes were still squinty from sleep. Fidi had gotten up earlier and, along with Warrick, was one of the only ones who’d taken the time to shower, not just change clothes. Elafi stayed seated, his ears twitching, never taking his eyes off Tigri. It was clear he was waiting for the right moment to talk to him. At the other end of the table, Patrick tried to hide his constant yawning while sipping coffee and glancing at his phone.

After escaping the hotel the previous night, Warrick and Patrick had carried the unconscious teenagers into the cabin. The kids had woken up about half an hour later, confused and restless, apparently without clear memories of the details of their escape. Warrick gave them a summary of events, leaving out certain details he considered too disturbing and not worth mentioning just yet.

Since everyone was so exhausted, they all went to sleep almost immediately. Alarm clocks were ignored the following morning.

"I want to say something," Tigri said suddenly, putting down the utensils he had been eating with. His ears drooped, and his tail swished nervously behind the chair. "I know I barely know most of you, you just told me your names, but... I just wanted to say thank you for saving me. If you hadn’t come yesterday, I... I don’t know what would have happened to me..."

"Of course we were going to rescue you," said Fidi reassuringly.

"We weren’t going to just stand by if there was something we could do," added Elafi.

Tigri smiled. Even with the large dark circles under his eyes, his expression radiated happiness.

"Thank you so much... I owe you my life."

Patrick then handed the teenager his phone. On the screen was a photo of a Missing Person poster.

"Your family’s been looking for you all this time. My brother and I thought it was best to give you a day to rest and recover, but if you want, we can take you to them right now. We'll contact them and bring you home."

Tigri’s eyes stayed fixed on the phone screen for several long seconds. After a moment, they began to water.

"T-thank you so much," he said, wiping away tears with one hand. "But... I think I'll stay today to rest. I'm not... I'm not ready yet... for them to see me like this."

Although he didn’t elaborate, it was clear what he meant. Tigri looked very different from before his captivity. He had lost muscle mass, his claws were dirty and stained with traces of dried blood; his curls had lost definition, long and tangled; the skin around his neck, wrists, and ankles was irritated and bruised, and even some facial hair had started to grow. It was clear he wasn't in the best of shapes.

"We understand," Warrick assured him. "You can stay as long as you need. When you're ready, we’ll take you home."

The rest of the day passed without major worries. Patrick either slept or spent time on his phone, Warrick focused on the regular chores around the cabin, and the three chimeras spent hours talking at the dining table, catching up from the moment Fidi and Tigri were separated during their escape attempt.

"You bit Madame Lavenza?" Tigri leaned forward, his golden eyes shining. "Wow... You’re seriously amazing, Fidi, I admire you! By the way, your new haircut is awesome. Makes you look way more badass."

Tigri was a cheerful, talkative boy, with loud laughter and a sweet gaze. He and Elafi quickly bonded and slipped easily into a lively conversation, talking and laughing like old friends.

"Hey, not to be nosy, but your dad is super hot," Tigri commented at one point as they watched Warrick chopping wood in the yard through the window. The man had taken off his shirt, revealing a tank top and his muscular arms. "Totally my type."

"He's not actually my dad," Elafi replied, although his tone sounded a bit unsure, as if he himself doubted it.

"He's way too old for you," Fidi teased. "Besides, he already has a girlfriend, even if he won’t admit it."

By evening, Tigri told Patrick he was ready to return to the city the next day. Patrick wasted no time contacting Tigri’s family using one of the numbers listed on the missing person poster. Tigri’s mother answered the call, and although she initially seemed suspicious, the sound of Tigri’s voice on the other end of the line was enough to make her realize the miracle they had been praying for had finally come true.

The tiger boy couldn’t help crying during the video call with his mother. The others had moved to a different part of the cabin to give him privacy in the living room. Elafi and Fidi headed to the deer boy’s bedroom.

"I admit I feel a little jealous," Fidi said quietly. "If I ever reunited with my parents... I'm sure they wouldn’t react like that. They might even be angry to see me again, like a curse coming back after they thought they had gotten rid of it. But I'm really happy for Tigri. This is something he’s been wishing for a long time. He deserves to go back to his life, to a family that loves him."

"I know you’ll find people who love and care for you too," Elafi replied. "I still miss my parents a lot, but Warrick has helped me not to feel so alone. And you’ve helped me too. You're my friend, Fidi. We'll be there for you whenever you need us."

The snake girl gave him a small smile.

"Thank you, Elafi." She let out a sigh. "I still don't know what I’ll do with my life after... all this. I never had dreams or wishes beyond not ending up dead, homeless, or in the black market. But I know whatever I do, this time it’ll be on my own terms. I’ll find my own path."

"I know you will."

The next day, Warrick, Patrick, Elafi, Fidi, and Tigri set out for the city. During the couple of hours the trip lasted, anxiety hung thick in the air. Tigri felt his palms sweating and the fur on his tail standing on end.

"Is it bad if I say I’m nervous?" he asked quietly from the back of the pickup, where he rode with Fidi and Elafi.

"It’s normal to be nervous," Fidi replied. "You haven’t seen your family in months... but I’m sure everything will turn out fine."

"I’m a little... scared, you know? So much time has passed... and so many things have happened..."

Tigri instinctively touched his neck, where Madame Lavenza’s metal collar used to be.

"They’ve been waiting for you," Elafi said. "You being back is what matters most. It doesn’t matter if you look or feel a little different. You’re still Tigri."

Tigri threw his arms around the other chimeras and hugged them tightly.

"You guys are the best."

Once in the city, it didn’t take long to find Tigri’s family home. After parking in front, Warrick got out and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, a dark-skinned woman with long curls tied up in a high bun came out of the house. She eyed Warrick a bit suspiciously, but the moment her gaze fell on Tigri, standing a few meters behind him, her expression completely changed.

"H-hi, Mom," Tigri said shyly. "I-I'm back."

"My baby!" the woman cried, running to her son and wrapping him in her plump arms. Tigri hugged her back, tears immediately pouring from his eyes. Before long, a little girl with wild hair peeked out from the door.

"Big Bro!" she shouted, joining the hug. "I knew you’d come back!"

Tigri easily lifted the little girl in his arms.

"Zuri! I missed you so much! Are you taller now?"

The last to leave the house was a tall man wearing glasses. His stern eyes quickly softened as he rushed to pull his son into a tight hug, drawing soothing circles on his back.

"I have no words to thank you for what you've done for this family," Tigri’s father said after pulling away from the rest of his family, shaking Warrick’s hand warmly. "What… what can we do to repay you for what you've done?"

"You owe us nothing, sir..."

"Raj. My wife Amara and my little daughter Zuri."

"You don't have to repay us anything," Warrick explained calmly. "We just did what we believed was right."

Despite Warrick’s words, Tigri’s family insisted they stay for dinner. Except for Patrick, who had to leave because he had work the next day, no one objected. They squeezed into the dining room as best they could and ate spaghetti and meatballs.

Tigri’s family was just as cheerful and talkative as he was. During dinner, they chatted about happy and funny things, filling the house with an atmosphere almost like a celebration. Zuri, Tigri’s younger sister, was the most excited of all, openly and enchantedly watching the newly arrived chimeras. Elafi allowed her to touch his antlers, and Fidi drew little animal sketches for her on a paper napkin.

When the clock struck a late hour, Warrick announced it was time to leave.

"Do you have a place to stay, Fidi?" Tigri asked the snake girl. "My offer still stands—you can stay here. Mom, can Fidi stay?"

The woman smiled.

"Well, we could set up the inflatable mattress in Zuri’s room, of course, if she agrees…"

"Of course!" the little girl exclaimed, slapping her hands on the wooden table. "She's just like Tigri, she’s cool, she has fangs and a weird tongue and she draws really well!" Zuri grabbed Fidi’s hand, admiring her pearly scales, and began shaking it. "Stay, stay, stay, stay, pleaaase, pleaaase, pleaaaaase!"

"It’s up to you," Warrick said, placing a hand on the snake girl's shoulder. "You're always welcome at the cabin, but it's fine if you want to stay here in the city. Elafi and I could come visit you from time to time."

Fidi stayed silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on her hands in her lap. Her forked tongue briefly flicked out between her lips, a sign that she was deep in thought. After a few seconds, she looked up.

"If it’s alright… I would like to stay."

No one objected.

~

Fidi moved in with Tigri’s family while she, in her own words, "got what she needed to start her own life." Considering she had been locked away in Madame Lavenza’s mansion for ten years, had never finished school, and had certainly never gone to college, it would be a tough road—but not an impossible one.

Tigri reapplied for his scholarship so he could return to university the following semester, and reunited with his friend Joshi, who almost broke into tears upon seeing his best friend again. Zuri, for her part, was delighted to have a "new Big Sis" at home—someone she could finally talk to about "girl things" like fashion and social revolution. She also often demanded that her "deer friend" come visit, so it became common to see Warrick and Elafi come over on weekends for lunch with the family.

Elafi continued living with Warrick in the cabin in the woods. Though they had offered, the deer boy admitted he wasn’t interested in moving back to the city. Still, thanks to Tigri’s family’s support, he began visiting the town and city more often, despite Warrick’s lingering distrust of taking the chimera boy to crowded places.

Patrick also began visiting them at the cabin with some regularity, and they often held movie and popcorn nights in the living room.

Life started to feel new and wonderful, as if everything had finally settled after a long storm. Everything was falling into place.

However, there was still something lingering inside Elafi, a slippery idea at the back of his mind, like a dark satellite orbiting his thoughts without rest.

"Warrick," he said one day. "I need to tell you something important."

The man looked up from his phone, where he had been reading the morning news. The way Elafi’s ears moved told him this was serious.

"Go ahead," Warrick replied calmly.

"I... I need you to help me find out where I come from."

Warrick stayed silent, so the teenager continued:

"Do you remember that time Lupita told us I was different from other chimeras? That being born a chimera child made me different from the rest? Well… I need to find out why. I need to know why I was born like this. What my parents never told me. Why I... why I can do the things I can..."

Warrick opened his mouth to speak, but Elafi interrupted him, his voice strained.

"I’m not just talking about dreams and plants. The day we saved Tigri… I lied when I said I didn’t remember what happened. Fidi and Tigri didn’t attack those guards because they wanted to defend themselves. I ordered them to. I don’t know how I did it, but I know it was me. I was the one who told Fidi to attack those hunters back when we were captured in the woods. I made my friends attack those guards at the hotel and ki..."

Elafi pressed his lips together. His face was full of anguish, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I need to know what I am," he whispered.

Warrick stood up and gently placed both hands on the teenager’s shoulders.

"Hey, hey, breath. You’re a good kid," he said. "I understand your doubts, but never forget: you are a good person. You’ve never hurt anyone out of malice. I'm sure that one day you'll fully master your abilities. You’re not a monster—you’re just a scared boy trying to live."

Elafi immediately threw himself into Warrick’s arms, letting a few tears fall.

"Thank you, Warrick," he mumbled against his chest.

"You’re welcome, son," the man replied, hugging him back and stroking his hair. "Have you thought about how to... investigate?"

Elafi stepped back and wiped his face with his hands.

"I’ve been avoiding this out of fear, but I can't run anymore. I think… it’s time to reach out to someone from my biological family."

~~~

Roach was standing in front of the mirror.

He hated looking at himself.

He ran his fingertips over the many scars scattered across his abdomen, chest, and sides. The skin formed small lumps and thin lines over his body, reminders of what had been there, of every scream, insult, and blow he'd endured, filling him with disgust.

Disgust and fury.

"Fucking chimeras," he muttered.

He pulled on a high-collared shirt, threw on his lab coat, and set his dark goggles back over his eyes.

At the office, everything was normal and boring. His lab work for the day was done, and the silence was overwhelming without the constant screams and whimpers of his victims—or rather, his "patients."

He was typing up some reports on his computer when he suddenly received an email. It was a forwarded message from his secretary.

"Figured you’d want to see this," the woman wrote.

Roach opened the email and read it.

Every line, every paragraph made a slow, wicked smile spread across his face.

Finally, some good news.

"This is interesting," he said to himself, rocking back and forth in his chair. "Looks like someone just got me a new toy to play with..."

End of Season One.

To be continued…

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings @3-2-whump. @whumped-by-glitter @string-of-broken-hearts @alyscat @oddsconvert @what-if-i-just-did @bacillusinfection @writinglittlepains @washing---machine @bilightningwhumper @enasolos @inhurtandincomfort

Finally!!! The first season of Chimeras has come to an end!!! I can't contain my excitement qwq. This little project, which started back in August 2024 as just an excuse to join the whump community and write some whump content, turned into a story that has earned a very special place in my heart. Diving deeper into the plot and creating characters became something that brought me so much joy and fun, and writing this story has been a process I've truly loved.

I'm so grateful to ALL the readers, to everyone who comments, reblogs, asks questions, and follows my OCs. Your support has truly kept this project going strong 💜.

I have so many ideas to continue expanding the Chimeras universe, so many things I would love to explore and discover. I don't know when I'll be able to write a second season, since there's a lot I need to think through, plan, and organize; but rest assured that in the coming months there will be some one-shots, as well as extra and special chapters for Chimeras, because I just can't say goodbye to these characters yet.

So if you have ideas on how to torture my OCs, don't hesitate to share them!!! Maybe I'll have a chance to write something about it ;)

Once again, thank you so much to everyone who read all the way here. I really hope we can keep sharing stories together.

With much love,

Melpómene.

[emcscared-whumps]

WHUMPMONTH - 28: "Trophy"

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Animal trap | Strung up by the hands | Hunted for sport

Pete got caught out by some particularly nasty humans, now they're playing games with him; and he's not the one having fun.

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