#smaller whumpee

[rizzoto-whump]

I really enjoy the dynamics of size difference in whump, especially when there's a smaller whumpee and a larger whumper. The contrast of a small and fragile whumpee, easily overpowered or defeated by a larger whumper—like a pathetic, sad wet cat they are.

[avvail-whumps]

‘the facility’ — pre-breakout 1/3

masterlist · next

content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, mentioned minor character death, mentioned non-con drugging, mentioned torture, psychological torture, minor violence, blood

“Noah, you’re needed on Level Nine.” 

Those words sent a strange little flurry of nerves settling in his stomach, and the clipboard almost slipped from his fingers as he spun around in shock. His eyes flickered around, as if wondering if she really was addressing him, or somebody else. 

A Higher-Up stood before him, a black haired woman with a plain mask covering the entirety of her face. It was a staple for the Higher-Ups, showing off their status. Flanking her were two Apoids. Noah had grown accustomed to seeing the dangerous rifles clutched in their hands, but their masked faces and robotic nature still made him weary. He set the clipboard on the countertop, hands clasping together anxiously. 

“Level Nine, ma’am?” He repeated slowly, his voice wobbling. Noah had only been down to Level Nine during his induction a few months ago. There was this dangerous, dark air to the place, one that had shivers rolling down his spine whenever he thought about it. Part of him hoped she had simply misspoken, or he had misheard her. 

No such luck. The woman nodded her head. “We need the blood taken from one of our prisoners.”

No doubt another brutal scheme for more torture. Noah resided on the first Level of the Facility; compared to most, life here was rather tame. The prisoners weren’t immensely dangerous, and while they were trained to proceed with caution, Noah had never had any problems or disasters. Although he had also occasionally concocted experiments under the Higher-Up’s orders, he heard rumours that it was absolutely brutal down in the lower Levels. Up here, the most blood he saw was when prisoners would get themselves into trouble and meet the fists of an Apoid.

He himself had never had to witness the torture of the Facility first hand.

Level One patients usually gave up their information relatively quickly, or they were simply just captured soldiers with no purpose. Noah hadn’t been in the Facility for long, simply getting accustomed to his patients and their medical records to prepare him later for the future.

Scientists of the faint of heart wouldn’t be able to handle the lower levels. Noah had heard the others telling him that, praying that he toughened himself up now, or be forced to live with the initial crippling, exhausting nightmares from the torture rooms. Scientists had often experienced mental breaks in their composure, compared to staff like the robotic Apoids or the busy Personnel. He knew he was doing this for greater good, and of course he’d come face to face with the idea of physically torturing people eventually.

Noah just didn’t think he would jump to the worst Level of them all. Where the scientists were known to be sadistic and ruthless, and trained interrogaters would mercilessly torture these people without a care.

Noah shivered. His mouth was incredibly dry at the thought.

“Ma’am,” he began anxiously, stepping closer. “I have patients on Level One that I’m assigned to. Besides, I don’t think I’m qualified to take on a patient from Level Nine.” 

The Higher-Up shook her head firmly. It was always unnerving staring into those plain masks, unable to tell what expressions they were making when they spoke. Noah hadn’t been down in the Facility for long, but many other scientists told him they don’t tred down into the depths very often. 

“You’ve been ordered to drop all of your previous patients. Prisoner Seven is all we want you to focus on from now on.” 

Noah let out a trembling breath. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing; the idea of crawling down into the depths of Level Nine was making his heart pound in his chest, banging against his ribcage. Dark imagery and the foul smell of blood crossed his mind for a moment, and his stomach sank. 

The Higher-Up tilted her head. 

“And regarding your qualifications,” she said sharply, almost spitting out the word in annoyance. “You’ve been sufficiently trained to deal with possible scenarios as far as Level Nine. You know what’s expected of you should anything go wrong.” 

“Yes, but only in simulations,” he breathed out, fiddling with the sleeves of his long, white coat. “If I were to—”  

“Then, you are perfectly qualified,” she snapped, interrupting him without a second thought. “You know the procedures that are expected of you. Are you arguing with me?” 

The cold threat pressed hard against his throat. He swallowed down his pride, eyes stealing glimpses at the Apoids by her side. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. 

“No, ma’am.” 

She shifted, turning on her heel. “Very well. Personnel will debrief you once you are escorted down there.” 

There was no arguing with that. Noah had no choice but to follow close behind her, the two Apoids shadowing them close behind as they went. A bundle of nerves set alight in his stomach. The reality of going down to Level Nine was sinking into his skin, making him crawl and itch with a terrible unease. It made him wonder why he was assigned to a patient that should already have someone working on them. 

Did they—? 

He swallowed, stepping quietly into the elevator. No conversation was exchanged between them, protocol setting in quickly enough. He shouldn’t think like that. It was dangerous, but the place was crawling with hundreds of Apoids. Should anything go wrong, he was well protected. 

Noah’s amber eyes landed on the silver, round buttons above them. It lit up on four, then descended down to five, six, seven, eight…

Anxiety gnawed maliciously at his stomach. 

The moment it brightened up on the number nine, and a loud beeping noise broke the thick silence, he had to remind himself to breathe properly. He didn’t have much time before the doors were sliding open, and the Higher-Up was leading him out of the small, bleak box. 

Apoids were lining the walls, clutching their rifles tight and stood in an unmoving pose. They could have almost been mistaken for statues, and Noah resisted the urge to look at them as he went past, feeling as though he was going deeper into the lion’s den. He was guided into a room he recognised from Level One, one of the torture rooms used for their interrogations and experiments. It was empty, Noah was relieved to see, apart from some people dressed in grey uniforms. 

The Higher-Up left not a moment later, but the Apoids remained posted on either side of the door, where Noah assumed they would be staying while Prisoner Seven was sent for and retrieved. 

“Noah, isn’t it?” 

He gazed wearily at the Personnel that approached him, a short woman with her red hair braided behind her back. She was smiling at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was holding a file to her chest, covered by her arms. It took him a second to gather his wandering thoughts, and he slowly nodded his head. 

She handed him the file, a pristine wad of papers with the title “Prisoner Seven” printed along the top. No doubt, this was everything regarding the prisoner medically, written by who had come before him. There were a lot of handwritten notes in scruffy writing, but he decided to look over it in a moment. 

“We need you to check his bloods. The scientists down here have been experimenting with some drug induced methods of torture, and Prisoner Seven hasn’t been acting favourably. We’d like you to check that everything is in order, as well as work on the drug during your time here.” 

Noah tried to process all that information with a frazzled brain, but his mind had latched onto the prospect of there being a scientist before him. It made his stomach sink with this knowing dread, not sure if he wanted to know. Maybe their contract ran out and they left the Facility. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathlessly chuckled. “But what happened to the last scientist?”

The Personnel cleared her throat. “She died.” 

Noah’s eyes widened. “Oh.” 

“Unfortuantly,” she jumped in, as if trying to ease his visible, rising nervousness. “Prisoner Seven got loose and murdered her. But you’ll have more security in the room with you, so you’ll be perfectly safe.” 

Perfectly safe. The thought made him laugh. He wondered if the previous scientist had been told the same thing.

He swallowed nervously, glancing around the room. He found an assortment of tools already laid out for his use. He walked over to them, examining the long needle under the bright lights. It was better quality than anything he got on Level One. He glanced at the clock, trying to settle his nerves.

“What time will Prisoner Seven arrive?”

“In twenty minutes. Please take your time to set up.”

They left, and Noah was alone with the two Apoid’s standing quietly and completely motionless by the door. He sucked in a sharp breath, quickly turning away from them. His heart was pounding away in his chest.

He was nervous.

There was no doubt about it. He had never handled a patient that was higher than a Level One. He was completely out of his depth, and yet why him? Why choose Noah? Surely there were plenty of other more trained scientists on Level Nine they could use?

Soon enough, twenty minutes passed.

He heard the door being unlocked, and soon, more Apoids were flooding in. With them, clutched in their gloved hands, was Prisoner Seven. He was cuffed securely, hands and arms twisted behind his back, as well as an interlinking chain between his ankle cuffs, not allowing him a chance to run very far if he bolted. He was blindfolded and gagged, with guns trained on him from every angle.

He could have swore he even saw the crackle of a taser.

Noah watched the intense scene with a heavy heart. They moved carefully over towards the table in the middle of the room, which was attached with multiple opened cuffs and loose leather straps. He stayed clear as they began to unfasten his blindfold. Prisoner Seven was tall, and big. It was clear he was a formidable soldier. Broad shoulders, muscular limbs, piercing, lidded eyes.

Oh. Noah stiffened slightly.

Prisoner Seven seemed to be staring intently at him.

Those sharp eyes took in every little detail, and Noah had to let his gaze linger elsewhere after growing immensely uncomfortable. He was probably thinking of eleven different ways to kill him with his bare hands, no doubt. These were some of the most dangerous men and women to exist.

The Apoids safely and successful secured him in the cuffs, and then proceeded to swiftly pin him down with the leather straps. They were tightened impossibly tight, leaving it virtually impossible for anybody to get out. Noah felt slightly more at ease knowing he was restrained like that. Most of the Apoids left, now only leaving four in the room. They kept their guns trained on Prisoner Seven, even while it was time for Noah to get to work.

Prisoner Seven was still gazing at him with curious eyes, and Noah attempted to ignore it. He glanced at the Apoids, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m taking the gag out.”

One of them nodded once.

Noah tried to ignore the sickly sweat that was beading on the back of his neck as he slowly reached forward, tugging the gag away with a firm pull. As he did, Prisoner Seven jerked under the restraints violently.

Noah leapt back with a small cry, feet staggering, desperate to steer clear of him. A quiet, rumbling laughter filled the room not a moment later, but the noise didn’t ease the sudden stab of fear that had grasped his heart. He gripped the gag tightly in his fist, a wave of embarrassment smacking into him.

“Funny,” Prisoner Seven mused, his lips pulling into a small smirk. “Something the matter, doc?”

Noah calmed the rapid beating of his heart. He took a deep breath, and slowly shuffled forward again. He was restrained down. There was no way he could slip out of them. He steadied his breathing, steeling his nerves.

He shot a glance at the Apoids, their fingers easing back off the trigger. He sighed heavily.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Noah said, keeping his tone of voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t make eye contact with the patient as trained, and took out his clipboard to begin running through the essential questions. “Please answer honestly for your own well being.”

Prisoner Seven’s eyes fell back to the ceiling, licking his dry lips. His smirk had gone, eyes lidded and dark. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Noah kept his eyes pinned on the paper. Even though his voice was steady and calm, his heart was pounding away in his chest like a relentless drum. It was hard to keep his breathing slow and concise, but he tried to assure himself that four highly trained, and armed, guards were in the room with him.

For what it was worth, Prisoner Seven was relatively complicit when it came to answering him. They were just standard questions to determine if there were any visible signs of blood clots or discomfort, but Noah was pleased it was going smoothly when his patient seemed to be healthy.

He moved onto the practical side of it, arguably the more dangerous. The cuff was fastened in a convenient spot, and so he got to work cleaning an area he was targeting.

“Squeeze your right hand into a fist, please,” Noah asked gently, his gloved fingers searching for a visible vein. Prisoner Seven did so, watching him intently.

“What’s your name, doc?”

Noah’s teeth clenched slightly. “You understand I cannot answer that.”

“We’re going to be getting to know each other quite intimately,” Prisoner Seven hummed. “Your name. It’s all I ask for.”

Noah’s brows flickered in annoyance, prodding for a vein. He was growing increasingly frustrated that he couldn’t find one suitable enough, and Prisoner Seven’s voice was distracting him.

“Please be quiet,” he murmured. His patient hummed.

“You’ve already broken protocol by talking to me this like this,” he spoke. “What’s the harm?”

Noah cursed under his breath, the needle fumbling in his hand. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, his voice shaking slightly as he motioned to one of the Apoids.

“Can...someone just loosen this strap for me, please?” He snapped, trying to calm down the overwhelming sensation building in his chest. Prisoner Seven was right; he was only meant to speak when necessary, not answering a patient if not needed. One Apoid slowly stepped forward, lowering his rifle slightly, but clearly still on guard. He’d been expecting him to do as he requested, but he spoke instead.

“Is it necessary?” He asked stoicly. Noah was almost shocked at the voice behind the mask. He’d never heard one speak before. Apoid’s had always been the silent and deadly powerhouses that even Noah was afraid to walk past alone. The modulation from the mask made his spine tingle, and it took him a second to snap out of his embarrassing gawking. Gathering himself, he nodded his head.

“It’s hard to find a vein when both restraints are restricting the blood flow here,” he explained, the words giving him time to regain his composure. “It’ll be for a minute.”

The Apoid slowly nodded his head. Rifles were pointed directly at Prisoner Seven as the one who spoke eased the tightness of the cuff slightly. Prisoner Seven remained still, and Noah finally managed to press the tip of the needle into his vein.

He drew the blood out carefully, and then covered the puncture sight with nimble fingers. The Apoid returned the cuff back to normal, and smoothly stepped back into his original position. It was deathly quiet while Noah checked the blood samples. He scribbled down everything he needed, before returning back to Prisoner Seven’s side once more.

“You haven’t had any adverse effects to the drugs, and you’re clean,” he explained steadily. “Any nausea or light headedness?”

Prisoner Seven’s eyes flickered over to him. “No.”

Noah sighed and motioned towards the Apoids. “Then we’re done here.”

He stayed back gratefully against the wall as the guards proceeded to do their diligent job. His eyes were glued onto the camera at the top of the wall, wondering quietly to himself who was watching, and what this was all about. As Prisoner Seven was being gagged once more, his piercing eyes landed on him again.

“Name’s Cash, doc.”

An Apoid surged forward, butt of the rifle slamming into his temple. Noah’s spine stiffened when he saw a flash of red, and the gag was pulled tight around his mouth not a second later. He was being dragged out of the room before Noah had a chance to process everything that happened.

His shoulder relaxed an inch. It was over. He’d done it.

His eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed an Apoid was still in the room with him. It was the one that had spoken, staring at him quietly from his spot near the table.

Noah frowned, feeling a little awkward. “Can I help you?”

The guard tilted his head. It was just as shocking the second time when he opened his mouth to talk. “I’m assigned to you. I’m escorting you back to your room.”

His throat closed up. “My what—?” He spluttered, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re assigned to me?”

“Each scientist on Level Nine has an assigned Apoid for safety reasons,” the man rumbled carefully. Noah blinked in confusion.

“And my room?”

“You’ll be staying on Level Nine. Your things have already been transferred from Level One.”

What the—?

The room almost began spinning as Noah tore off his gloves, dumping them in the bin with a restricted lungs. It really was going to be permanent then. An assigned Apoid? Some part of him couldn’t quite believe it. Numbly, and through automaticness, he went to sort out all of the equipment and information, but the guard placed a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, and the Apoid quickly retreated. Was this guard new or something? Noah had never seen one act like this before. Speaking and even touching him. His thoughts whirred. Then again, this was a different job. This Apoid was assigned to him.

“Personnel will handle that,” the guard told him. Noah blinked away the spots in his vision. “You were called down here quickly. They require you to rest first and proceed with your research tomorrow.”

He quietly nodded his head, finding there was no choice to agree. Research was something he was used to. As long as he was confined to that, he felt like he would be alright.

Noah allowed himself to be escorted to his new room, keeping his head low and his eyes to the ground as trained to do.

tag list – @suspicious-whumping-egg @sunshiline-writes @rabidrabidme @whumpatize-me-captain @thegirlwholived1213 @reverie1234 @unforgiven235 @morning-star-whump @seaweed-is-cool @d-cs @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-me @gala1981 @pirefyrelight @whumpterful-beeeeee @miss-unicorn0907 @avidrambling @anoontjecanush @2in1whump @ha-ha-one

[befuddled-calico-whump]

someone should whump Greer

pretty plausible, if he were ever caught by the Riot Kings

[fourwingedwriter]

I feel like short people (especially women) are underrepresented in whump and I think there's a lot of dynamics to play with there

A short Whumper being able to put a full force blow straight into Whumpee's gut/kidneys just to watch them crumple

A more defiant Whumpee being able to resist Whumper better, not letting themselves be thrown around. But this only results in what happens when a Whumper has a chance to get creative.

A small Whumpee terrified by how easily Whumper can restrain them. They are powerless here, how could they not be? They're so tiny and insignificant.

A short Whumpee having things she wants placed too high for her to reach. Whumper only has to reach up and grab it, but it will always be out of range for Whumpee.

A Whumpee being baby talked because they're so small and so cute. Their emotions being taken as jokes by Whumper(s) because they're "so grumpy" but it never being taken as serious

A smaller Caretaker struggling to help Whumpee walk/move, simply unable to bear the load. They have to stay more stationary, or at least wait for somebody else to help.

Just smaller characters in whump. Feeling small can do a number to how someone acts and holds themselves

[smthnsmthn-whumpblog]

okay whumpy things that have been on my mind recently:

-crowbars <333333

-badly broken bones. give their legs the structural integrity of wet spaghetti

-speaking of broken legs, kneecapping. kneecap your whumpees, i beg

-emotional devastation. make their friends hate them then kill all their family. pull no punches, make them miserable

-rip their jaw off. idk why i’m thinking abt this so much but yeah. rip their jaw off

-bad trips. bad bad trips. traumatically bad trips. give em way too much acid and put them in a situation, watch them suffer

-getting crushed. under one big rock, lots of smaller rocks, a building, idc

-feeding tubes

-chest tubes

-just. just tubes. stick a bunch of tubes in them. do they need the tubes? who cares

-being so fucked up on drugs that whumpee doesn’t realise they’re hurt and makes all their injuries worse. cut to the come down and they’re dying. figuratively or literally, take your pick

-and finally, crowbars. crowbars

[loonybun]

Two-dimensional prisons

- I’ve had the idea of somehow putting a whumpee in a computer for a really long time. confined to a single digital room, only able to interact with a few things, going from human to being bound by programming. The touch starvation that comes with that. Interacting with a cursor is nothing like interacting with another person. basically yeah tamagotchify them.

- Phones with the same concept^

- keeping whumpee trapped in a mirror, only ever able to gaze out at the real world.

- if you’re feeling really mean, make it a compact mirror. There’s hardly even enough space to shift around. A whole world just out of their reach from that claustrophobic little space they’re stuck in. They’re completely portable.

- Doesn’t have to be 2D, but a book or a journal. Being able to script whatever events they want for whumpee. Whether they’re aware of it all or not is also a fun thing to keep in mind.

- A painting overlooking a grand room. They’re allowed to move around in the frame. Being marveled at and spectated, or instructed to stay in a certain pose. That frame can always get smaller if they disobey.

- i know i already said mirrors, but basically any reflective surfaces work well. maybe a jewel or a puddle.

[w4nd3r3r123456]

De-nailing?

I haven't written in a while and it was ticking me off so i pulled this tgthr. NOT PROOF READ. lemme know if i made any mistakes :)

Whumper returned the next day, flicking on the hallway lights as they entered the sullen blood painted room. Whumpee lay slumped in the corner, lowering their head further as the light flooded their eyes. “What, no greeting today either?” Whumper mused as they ambled closer, the soft clacking of their dress shoes coming to a halt as they knelt down, hooking the pliers in their hand under Whumpee’s chin, forcing their gagged head up. Whumpee obliged to the movement, their eyes still glazed over as Whumper chuckled at their dumb figure. “Guess I'll have to give you a smaller dose next time, huh? ” Whumpee heard the words, trying profusely to nod their head, being disconnected was always better than feeling every strike against their body and their aftermaths. Whumper sighed as he rose, stalking away as he pulled his trenchcoat off his suit and folded his sleeves up, stopping at the box of black disposable gloves that he kept on the only stand in the expanse. Whumpee managed a whimper as Whumper turned back with a falsely sympathetic smile, “ I had a shit day at work……… *sigh* our stocks dropped quite a bit……… you’ll help me out though, right? You’ll make me feel better?” Whumper pulled Whumpee’s limp body by their arm, pushing them down onto the wooden chair they were strapped into the day before. “You’ll cry for me, won’t you?” Whumper continued as he worked at the leather straps, forcing Whumpee’s wrists and ankles down. He paused as he began getting up, his eyes lingering on Whumpee’s face, lips already trembling as tears welled up in their eyes. “Oh? Tch, Angel, I know I said I wanted you to cry, but not over nothing.” He spoke, his fingers brushing across Whumpee’s cheek as the cold metal of the pliers met with their nail. Whumpee’s eyes widened at the sensation, their entire body shaking now as they tried prying their arm off the chair, begging through the gag. Whumper ignored their pleads, gently tugging at the nail on Whumpee’s thumb before snapping his head up, a sadistic grin plastering his face “This’ll hurt a bit” he was warning one second, the next, Whumpee’s hand was on fire, their fingers throbbing as blood slowly swelled up before dripping down the chair arm, their back arched as they pressed head into the wood, a muffled shriek ripped from their throat. Whumper cackled as he lifted the crimson nail to their own face, bits of flesh still stuck to it. “Four more to go!” his grin faltering as he watched Whumpee heave,eyes wide as tears soaked the cloth stuffed in their mouth. “Hey, you’d better not pass out on me.” He growled, his fingers curling into Whumpee’s hair and forcing them to look directly at Whumper. He dropped their head as he pressed Whumpee’s hand down, flattening it against the chair as he connected the pliers to their index finger. “ Don’t try moving your hand……… you’ll get yourself a shitload of nerve damage.” Whumper warned before wrenching the second nail. Whumpee’s world faded as they let out another gut wrenching scream, struggling against their restraints. “Three to go” Whumper hummed, tossing the nail to the floor, tilting his head deviously as whumpee tossed their head, begging for Whumper to stop. “ I finish the three today, you get a bath, dinner, and I'll let you sleep with me. Make me finish tomorrow, i’ll leave you in the chair all night and nail you down before pulling the nails from both your hands.” He didn’t wait for an answer before violently yanking at the third finger, Whumpee’s sobs getting louder as Whumper kept at it, occasionally prodding at the now exposed skin. “ There, was that really so bad?” Whumper’s voice suddenly echoed in Whumpee’s ears. They kept their head lowered, tears soaking their gag as they gasped through their cries, eyes never leaving their sore, throbbing, horrifying hand as Whumper pressed his lips to their head. “I love you”.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Mermay Special

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: mer/vampire whumper, mer/vampire whumpee, whumper-turned-whumpee, dehydration, claustrophobia, starvation, torture, brief death wish, recovery, caretaking

have something special for mermay :) inspired by this fanart my friend lostie drew 2 years ago!!

-

It hadn’t rained in a week, Jim’s freshwater had run out the day before, and he was going to die.

He knew he was going to die. Kane would come back to feed, and his body wouldn’t be able to hold up anymore, and he would die. Either with Kane’s jaws clamped around him, or later, alone in the damp cold sand.

He wasn’t thirsty enough to be desperate yet, not desperate enough to drink the abundant saltwater taunting him from his prison’s little beach. He knew it would only make him die faster. It was poison.

It hardly mattered at this point. Months with no rescue likely meant no rescue at all, and this was hardly a life. Still, something cried out in him, wanting to live.

Jim scrambled against the rock as he saw that telltale fin start to poke out of the water, more and more until the vampire revealed himself in full, the head and torso of a man and the tail-end of a shark. Not that there was anywhere for Jim to use his worthless legs to run to.

“Food.” Kane slung half a seal onto the surface, raw yet unbloodied.

Jim cautiously crept forward. “I need water.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at him, then splashed him, leaving him soaked.

“Fresh water,” he pressed, pointing up to the clear sky. “Rainwater. I need it or I’ll die. Please, just take me back to the beach, any beach where there’s humans. I won’t be any use to you dead. You’re not some animal, you know this isn’t right, please!”

“Human mine,” Kane dismissed firmly.

Jim sobbed drily. “I can’t. I can’t. You’re going to kill me.”

“Eat.” Kane shoved the meat toward him, making him flinch back. “Then I eat.”

Jim looked to the sky, Kane’s hungry eyes never leaving him as he devoured the vampire’s leftovers. If it didn’t rain tomorrow, he wouldn’t make it another day.

“Human.” Kane gestured him forward as soon as he finished.

“No, no, I don’t want to!” Jim backed up to the rock again, even knowing it was useless.

Kane huffed, climbing up onto the sand. “Food,” he called him now, a warning tone to his voice, piercing red eyes growing angry.

“Stop,” Jim insisted, squeezing his eyes shut. “No!”

A clawed hand grabbed his leg, any attempt to kick him away futile. He couldn’t match a vampire’s strength on his best day, and this was not his best day.

He cried out as sharp teeth dug into flesh once again, feeling much like the seal in his stomach.

-

Kane whined softly, squirming against the glass.

The fishers had put him in a smaller tank again. He couldn’t be sure–though he learned more of their language every awful day, there were still gaps–but he was near-certain it was a game to them, at this point, how small of a space they could force him to live in. He didn’t need to know their language to see their smirks.

He hadn’t even meant to break the last one. He had been trying so hard this time, and he’d been asleep when it happened. Even so, the fishers left him gasping on the floor in a pile of broken glass for hours. Even the tiny tank was better than none at all. How far he’d fallen, that he could consider this lucky.

Kane wished he could go back to complaining about not having room to swim. He would do anything to go back to the first tank. This one hardly afforded him room to move, to breathe. No matter how he tried to position himself, he always ended up touching the walls, his tail bunched up uncomfortably.

The water was too salty, burning his gills with every breath. He didn’t dare complain about that again. Last time, they left him in that horrible freshwater humans love so much until he screamed and bled to the point where any other fish would die.

But he was a vampire, and there was no driftwood here.

Every time a fisher walked past, Kane tensed. Some carried cruel metal tools, meant for fish already dead, though he’d already known their sting far more than he’d like. Some carried cruel metal tools and looked at him, making him wish he had anywhere to hide.

“Comfy?” a fisher mocked, tapping the glass with the end of his fishing stick, the unavoidable vibrations reverberating wherever he touched it.

Kane shook his head, hoping the answer was acceptable.

“Good. �̴̢̛̙̃̎̀̏͌�̶͙̪̉̃̐͋̈̈́̉͝�̵̛̹̪̳̾́̏̂̏̊͊�̴̤̬͖͖̬̹̣̏�̴̧̹͓͒̋͝�̸͎̝̂̅͋�̴̧͚͍̼̠͌�̵̤̜̻̦̬̄͒̏̃ little display case, leech. �̸͖̞̩̳̒̿͐̚͝ͅ�̴̢̫̺̟̺̬̯͔̋̄�̶̧̺̯͚̳͎͉̆͆̀̉̍�̵͚͈͛̌̑̚�̷̰͝͝�̴̢̡̯̗̖̥̈́̑̄̅̃̀̎̕ feed you this week.”

He perked up at the mention of food, whining louder this time.

The fisher laughed, flicking one of those foul little ash-and-paper cylinders into his tank. “Eat it.”

It would make him sick, but far worse would come of disobeying orders. Maybe the fisher would allow him some food if he obeyed. Kane wriggled until he could position himself enough to reach the bottom of the tank, scooped it up, and swallowed it down.

Another fisher joined him, saying something he couldn’t understand and nodding at his tank before approaching.

Nothing good ever happened when he was taken from his tank.

“No, no, no!” he wailed as his head breached the surface, his salt-lined gills burning all the more against unforgiving air.

-

Jim didn’t go to the beach anymore.

After months stranded and years after living in fear, he never thought he’d get even ten miles near a coastline. Not even twenty. Yet here he was, getting within two, just to see the damn vampire. Just to confirm it’s him.

The scars on his arms and legs floated the vague line between hurt and not, leaving him unsure if it was in his head.

The smell of distant saltwater made him want to vomit.

Jim greeted the fishers in a daze, letting them lead him to the vampire that might be his.

And there he was.

Kane looked worse for wear. He was littered with more scars than Jim was, trapped in a tank barely wider than his body, and even his body looked near-emaciated. His wide eyes locked onto Jim with sudden, harsh terror, and he squirmed as if to try to get away.

“Why’s he… in there?” he asked dumbly.

“Gotta keep a vampire reeeal secure, you of all people know you can’t trust the fuckers. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. Can’t move around, don’t have the energy to fight, knows it’s got hurt coming if it tries, that’s the safe way to keep ‘em,” the fisher explained.

Jim couldn’t look him in the eyes after that, so he looked at the tank instead.

“Kane?”

Kane whimpered, pressed against the back of the tank, though that only left him what looked like a couple inches away from the front of it. Jim felt claustrophobic just looking at it.

“So?” the fisher prompted.

“This is him.” Jim took a step forward, hesitantly pressing a hand to the glass. He was really here, powerless to hurt him again.

But Kane was hurt, and terrified, and trapped somewhere small and uncomfortable. There was no way he could leave him here.

“Do you think… I could take him?”

-

Every day, humans came to the aquarium in droves. As an unending mercy, Kane’s tank here was large, with ample places to hide. He never came out while the humans were visiting.

No one hurt him at the aquarium. He always had enough to eat at the aquarium. The workers always smiled at him when he surfaced for his meals. Not the malicious smiles of the fishers, but real ones, like they were friends. They talked to him like he was a person, and he was getting better at talking back, and they didn’t even get mad at him when he wouldn’t come out for the guests. Bellamy slipped him an extra fish and told him he deserved it for being a trooper. He didn’t know what a trooper was, but it sounded good when he said it.

Maybe he would start showing himself, one day, just to make them happy. Maybe if it ever stopped being scary.

As it stood, there was only one guest Kane would leave his hidey-hole for. Thankfully, they allowed him to come just after closing, away from the crowds.

“Hey,” Jim greeted. “Just came to, uh, check up on you. Make sure you’re still doing alright.”

Kane couldn’t speak underwater, and Jim was nowhere close to the top of the roomy tank, so he nodded. He looked at his hand, trying to remember the sign for a second, before making a ‘thumbs-up’.

“You’re okay? You’re happy? No one’s hurting you? They’re feeding you good? Helping you with medical stuff?” Jim asked.

Kane nodded again, smiling this time. He tried not to show his teeth.

Jim sat by the tank. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, man. You know how long ‘til the doc clears you to go home?”

It wouldn’t be long, now. He was gaining the weight back, his injuries had healed, and the exercises he’d been given were helping him learn to swim normally again. Soon, he would be able to survive in the ocean, just like before any of this nightmare had ever happened.

Bellamy said they could do a program together, if he wanted, where guests would come to learn about vampires and ask him questions. He said Kane didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but winked and promised him some of his blood if he gave it a try.

No fisher could catch him again if he stayed at the aquarium. People would protect him at the aquarium.

Kane shrugged, not sure he would ever leave.

-

sorry all i can write are AUs lol <3 they're warming me up for the main series i prommy

taglist in reblogs!

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 19

Blood Trail - Abandoned Cabin - One way Out - "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

Alternative: Shivering

Whumper could smell breakfast cooking as they made their way into the kitchen.

Whumpee huddled close to the gas stove as they flipped the eggs.

Whumper studied them for a few seconds before Whumpee looked at them.

"Please tell me you're not sick", Whumper sighed, knowing they had just gotten over a cold last week.

"I don't think so... just really cold", Whumper held their hand close to the flame, "I hope you're okay with a hot breakfast."

"Sounds good to me", Whumper nodded.

Whumper was handed a cup of coffee.

"Let me feel your hands again", Whumper frowned when they felt Whumpee's knuckle brush against them.

"You're ice cold", Whumper squeezed Whumpee's hand.

Whumpee shivered a little, "yes Master, I know."

"Go ahead and get some warmer clothes on" Whumper looked over them, "no wonder your cold, walking around in a short sleeve shirt and shorts. You're not even wearing socks."

Whumpee nodded. They didn't want to tell Whumper that they had already checked earlier. They didn't have anything.

After breakfast was served, Whumpee went up to the closet that Whumper set aside for them to stay in. The house was a one bedroom, so that was the best Whumper could do.

"It's a walk-in, so you should have plenty of space, and a mattress fits in here", Whumper sighed when they explained the situation to their newly kidnapped slave, "I figure you would like a little privacy."

Whumpee thought back to those early days. They didn't fight to get away from their kidnapper. They were a little too scared to be defiant. Whumper was fairly kind to them. The rules were easy to follow, and punishments were possible but rarely came.

"Taking a long time to find warmer clothing", Whumper leaned into the closet and saw Whumpee pulling things out of the tote their clothes were stored in.

"I uhm, don't have any.... warmer... clothes", Whumpee looked up at them nervously.

Whumper frowned, "you don't?"

"No Master, I think they were thrown away.", Whumpee looked longingly at their blanket, "I have a hoodie", Whumpee held up the item.

"That will not keep you warm though", Whumper looked at it and saw the holes, "I think I remember throwing away some things this past summer because of how old they were. I guess you are getting some new clothes."

"Wait really?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

Whumper nodded, "after breakfast we'll go through and see what else you need. Do you at least have socks?"

"I do, but a lot of them have holes", Whumpee lifted their feet to show.

"I have a feeling this will be an expensive trip", Whumper frowned at the holes on the bottom of Whumpee's feet, "I guess that's what I get for keeping you here. You deserve some new clothes though."

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee smiled weakly.

Whumpee followed Whumper around the clothing section.

Whumper read through their list.

"You needed everything.... even underwear", Whumper frowned, "I can't believe I've been so neglectful of you while you've done so good to take care of me."

Whumpee felt a little overwhelmed at the selections. They held on tightly to the cart.

"We will, of course, get the essentials. If you see something you like, we can get a few pieces you pick", Whumper continued without noticing Whumpee.

Whumpee took a deep breath before nodding.

"You doing alright?", Whumper noticed the silence finally.

"There is a lot here. Lots of colors and people", Whumpee whispered.

"I'm sorry, you haven't been out for a while. It's probably a bit overwhelming", Whumper led them to a corner, "let's start here. You can get acclimated in a smaller space. When you feel comfortable we can move on."

Whumpee nodded again.

A few things were now in the cart... all picked by Whumper.

"Are you going to pick anything out", Whumper eyed Whumpee as they went to another part of the clothing department.

"I picked out the pants" Whumpee whispered.

"You picked the color. I already knew you wanted the black pair, but I was trying to get you to answer", Whumper looked at a sweater for themself.

"I'm sorry, I forgot how busy stores were", Whumpee fidgetted with their fingers.

Whumper nodded, "I guess you need to get out more."

Whumper led Whumpee to a section of the store for groceries. They wanted to give Whumpee a little break from the clothes.

Whumpee stumbled a little beside the cart when they stared at something for too long.

"Careful Whumpee", Whumper grinned at some passer bys.

"Sorry", Whumpee sighed.

Whumpee glanced back a few times before they rounded a corner.

Whumpee was a little more helpful in the groceries. Dinners were planned so Whumpee could grab the ingredients needed.

Whumper led them back to the clothes after a few snacks were grabbed.

They walked past the spot Whumpee had been staring at earlier.

Whumper saw it this time. Whumpee had a small grin on their face.

"You see something you like", Whumper chuckled, "finally."

"No Master", Whumpee shook their head nervously.

Whumper looked around, "Shh, don't call me that here", they whispered. "I know that face. You made the same one when I said you could get your chips. What did you see?"

Whumpee blushed.

"Come on, show me", Whumper pressed.

Whumpee turned and awkwardly shuffled back to what they were looking at.

Whumper followed curiously.

Whumpee looked down and pointed at a rack full of slippers.

"Oh, you want some slippers. That's fine. Which ones?", Whumper smiled.

"Uhm, these ones... mas... uh", Whumpee looked at them nervously.

Whumper took a closer look at what Whumpee was embarrassed about. A giant smirk now on their face.

"Oh, I see", Whumper chuckled.

Whumpee had chosen slippers that looked like bear paws. Complete with leathery claws.

"Yes, those will be cute. This is the only thing you've actually picked out today for clothes, so that tells me that you really like them", Whumper took one from the hook, "you can get them."

"Really?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.

"Yes", Whumper nodded, "let's find your size."

Whumper laughed when they glanced over at Whumpee as they drove home.

Whumpee sat in the passenger seat and cuddled the bag that held the slippers.

Whumpee looked at Whumper nervously.

"You're okay, just being adorable", Whumper grinned.

"Thankyou for the slippers master... I'm really excited to wear them", Whumpee smiled.

Whumper nodded, "we're almost home, so you won't have to wait much longer."

Whumper had a few tasks to do before dinner, so Whumpee went through the clothes on their own and was in the middle of washing the laundry.

Whumper peaked into the laundry room and watched Whumpee as they clicked their slippers together excitedly.

They turned and nervously backed away when they saw Whumper.

"Sorry Master, just doing my chores. I got a little sidetracked", Whumpee whispered, "I really like these."

"I'm glad you are enjoying them. You are washing everything now?", Whumper looked past Whumpee at a pile.

"Yes Master, I decided to do all of the laundry so it would get done", Whumpee sighed, "you shouldn't have bought all of these things for me though. I didn't deserve it all. Even... even these slippers master. I shouldn't have shown a want like that."

"Whumpee", Whumper straightened, "you do a lot around here. You put up with a lot around here too. Since when have I said anything against you having wants and desires", Whumper stepped closer to Whumpee, "you wanted the slippers right? They make you happy?"

"Y-yes master", Whumpee nodded.

"Are they keeping you warm? This morning I found huddled against the stove to get warm. You did indeed need these warmer clothes. You might be my slave, but I do want to take care of you."

Whumpee quickly wiped away a tear, "thankyou master."

"You're welcome", Whumper grinned, "alright I'm in my bedroom if you need me", Whumper started to leave, "I want to see you wearing your new clothes once they're washed as well."

"Yes master", Whumpee smiled and looked down at their slippers again.

They giggled as they wiggled their toes, causing the slippers to wiggle.

"So comfy", Whumpee whispered.

P.s. I do actually have a pair of these slippers. Best things I've bought.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

[uriswhumpchamber]

One thing I wish I wrote more often is just. How absolutely disorienting pain can be. So! Rapid fire prompts time it is.

Acute pain. The world suddenly getting smaller — everything is focused on the hurt. Whumpee's brain can barely focus on whatever they can hold onto, if that.

Having to run, barely being able to go in a straight line. They know where the meeting point is, so why are they not there yet? Why does it feel like they're going in circles? Everything hurts so much. They look around and the usual easy tells of where they are are swirling around in front of their eyes, making no sense at all.

Prolonged pain. Being unable to distract themselves - they move wrong and it gets worse. They move and it gets worse. They're able to dull it for a few minutes, and it's the stress of it coming back that doesn't let them think.

Meds they forgot to take are sitting at the table while Whumpee is curled up on the floor, not knowing why nothing is working. They remember taking the pill — wait, when was that?

They got back to their base, or to the organization that sent them on that damned mission — and someone asks for the codeword before letting them in. They don't remember being told a codeword - no, they do, but it's an empty spot in their memory, whatever it was. "I can't let you in without that." "Please, I swear-" "Sorry, no."

Being found while running from Whumper, people looking to help. Not being able to speak a word of whatever happened, to properly tell them the urgency of the situation. Broken words and phrases to match their broken bones. They know Whumper will find them if they don't keep moving, if they don't get somewhere safe, but the moment they try to say that it's like their brain decides to stop working.

[inhurtandincomfort]

Storms

-Fierce wind with a biting chill. Whumpee finds themselves struggling to walk against the gale, every step forward taking the effort of ten. They feel like they could be blown off their feet at any moment, and they hold onto to trees, lampposts, fences, anything that's around for support if they're lucky.

-Maybe a larger, sturdier character tries their best to shield the smaller one from the worst of it. But still it's a constant battle .

-Torrential rain crashing down with such force it's almost painful. And the cold it brings is; whether they're wearing one layer of clothing or several, even a thick winter coat is thoroughly drenches after just a few minutes. Wet fabric clings uncomfortably to their skin. It soaks through to the bones. They shiver uncontrollably which causes their muscles to tense and ache, but it will be worse if the shivering stops. They need to find shelter and warmth or they'll be in real trouble.

-Flash flooding is devastating. The waters can rise quicker than you can prepare, and all you can do is hope you'll be spared. It rushes through in a rage, an all-consuming beast stealing away homes, livelihoods, and lives. Maybe whumpee is on the run from whumper, and the flood is the only thing between whumpee and safety. Maybe Whumpee is trapped on a roof praying for rescue. Or perhaps they've already been swept away, clinging onto floating rubble in the hopes they'll survive. They're getting hit with debris. They might have swallowed some toxic water. Of all the dangers a storm can bring, this is quite possibly the most fatal.

-Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening! A sheltered whumpee who is terrified of storms. They hide under the bed, or in a cupboard. Caretaker or Whumper have to practically tear the house apart to find them (did y'all ever see that woman on tiktok who can fit in a breadbox? Yeah, maybe whumpee does that) Anyway.

Caretaker gently coaxes them out, promising to sit with them under a blanket and read a story or play a game, something to distract them from the claps of thunder and flashes of light.

Does whumper do the same thing? Will whumper lend some comfort and understanding? Or are they furious they had to look for whumpee for so long. Maybe they punish this show of weakness. Maybe by tying them up outside, leaving them at the mercy of the storm which they so fear...

-I'm not done with lightning. Whumpee who gets struck by lightning. That's it that's the prompt. Don't forget to give them a scar :)

-Powercuts. Is whumpee afraid of the dark? Maybe they rely on an electric heater. Do they have any medical equipment they need power for? Perhaps someone is badly wounded or sick, but they can't call for an ambulance with the power out. Someone might have to venture outside to dry and seek help, but that might be dangerous too.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

What If

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven |

CW: Traumatized whumpee, conditioned response to past dehumanization and abuse

Anaya's first coherent thought upon waking was that someone was breathing, warm and damp, against the back of her neck. Her second was that she was nearly hanging off the side of the bed, precariously balanced, pushed to the edge by an enormous weight behind her.

"Eden?" She mumbled. “Can you move?”

Rather than the good-natured grumbling she expected from her boyfriend, she heard a low, animal rumble like an earthquake moving from one body into another. A cold, wet nose touched the back of her neck.

Anaya’s eyes flew open.

Consciousness came back all at once.

She sat up in one fluid movement, turning to look behind her, just barely catching a sense of a huge mass reshaping, growing smaller. Fur became scarred skin, paws turned to palms and fingers at the end of long, awkward arms. It happened in an instant, in the time it took her to blink. The shift was done in less than the second it took to inhale a deep breath.

Her mind refused to accept what she saw or to hold on to what had happened. It simply wasn’t designed to experience something so deeply out of her understanding of the world. Instead, it focused entirely on the naked teenage boy now staring back at her, a boy with a perfectly normal human nose and a perfectly normal human body. 

He laid on his side on top of the rest of the covers between her and Eden - who was still asleep, one arm flung up above his head. Misae’s bare legs were bent at the knees, curled towards his stomach. His odd eyes were wide and ringed in white, and he cringed back away from her in a way that made her stomach flip in shame and guilt. He made a sound like a low whimper.

“I-I didn’t mean to fall back asleep,” He said, a whine edging his voice, looking away and then back at her, his stomach nearly pressed to the comforter with how low he was. 

The curtains still hung heavy over the windows, keeping the room dim, with only hints of yellow morning light lining the edges of the heavy cloth. 

“... Misae?” Anaya rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Why… why’d you get on the bed?”

He didn’t answer her, not at first. She felt the mattress shift beneath her and blinked her eyes open again, watching as the boy eased his way back off the bed and onto the air mattress on the floor. His shoulders stayed hunched up near his chin, his hair mussed up and half-shadowing his eyes. He curled up, knees to his chin, arms around them, looking down and away. 

On the other side of the bed, Eden mumbled something and shifted onto his side, facing away, pulling his blanket up until it covered his head entirely except for his hair. Anaya frowned, turning until she could put her feet on the floor. She arched her back, feeling her spine stretch and flex, the muscles protesting briefly as she pressed her hands to her lower back and exhaled. 

She must have been curled around the immensity of the adolescent wolf in the bed, unmoving. Her muscles were going to be mad at her all day about that, she could already tell. 

Then she looked back down at Misae, who still wasn’t looking at her. When she moved to stand, he flinched, hands covering his head. Anaya hitched in a breath, a chill running from her hair to her feet.

“I’m sorry,” Misae said, voice low and a little hoarse and raspy from sleep. He had curled himself up so tightly all she could see of him was arms and legs and the gray-tinged red of his hair. “I shouldn’t have. Please-... I didn’t mean to-... I couldn’t sleep-... alone, I’ve never slept alone b-before-”

“Oh, honey.” Anaya kept her voice low as she leaned over, holding out one hand. “Hey, you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, whining again. He seemed to slip in and out of remembering human speech. His instincts, clearly, were canine. “I, I know, no dogs on human beds. I know, I know that, I was just alone and I couldn’t sleep after the moon was gone, I didn’t mean to fall asleep… I just wanted to not be alone-”

Anaya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re not a dog, Misae. Yeah? Come on, honey. Let’s get some pants on you and make some coffee, okay? You and me. Come on.” She pitched her voice soft and encouraging, and then inwardly winced. No matter what she said, she was talking to him like she might have a dog, wasn’t she?

She tried again, clearing her throat. This time, she kept her voice even and level. “I’ll get you some breakfast.” 

One of his odd amber eyes peered out from behind the dubious safety of those thin arms, and then slowly, so slowly, he unfolded. His stomach growled, nearly as loud as he had been in the bed just a few minutes ago. How long had he been hungry? Better yet, how could he possibly be hungry after all that damn pizza the night before?

Anaya tried to focus on that disbelief. It helped her to not think about the sight of Misae trembling, frightened… of her. 

Scared of having been caught out on the bed, terrified of whatever result he expected to come from that event. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, in a whisper that was barely audible, even when they were only a few inches apart. 

“Don’t be,” Anaya murmured back, scanning the room until she found Misae’s discarded sweatpants. She scooped them up and tossed them back to him, turning her back and waiting while he put them back on. Clearly, nudity was going to be an ongoing conversation they would have to keep having - he seemed completely unaware of it until it was pointed out to him. She had the distinct sense he would walk naked into traffic and never bat an eyelash, having no real understanding of the dangers of either.

Anaya padded out into the hall and headed for the kitchen, aware despite his silent steps that Misae had fallen in just behind her. He was still limping on his injured leg, but already he seemed steadier on his feet than he had yesterday.

As soon as the silver was out of his skin, he healed. Just like he’d said he would.

Anaya shoved the thought aside.

She wasn’t really surprised when he didn’t sit down after they entered the kitchen. Instead, he hovered next to her, just a little too close for comfort as she measured out the coffee, dumped spoonfuls into the filter, poured over the water, and listened to the hissing and bubbling as it began to brew.

Anaya closed her eyes, inhaling the warm air with its smell of the dark roast she’d just added in. Almost like chocolate, with a hint of the bitterness the coffee itself would have when it was done. 

Burbling, the dark liquid dripped, slowly filling the glass pot beneath. Anaya watched it for a while, but eventually she couldn’t stand the silence and Misae’s eyes locked on her any longer. “Well,” She said, finally. “What do you usually like to have for breakfast? Not like gas station or rest area food like yesterday, but real food.”

Misae blinked at her. “... They give us meat twice a day.”

“Meat?” Anaya blinked back. “Any particular kind of meat, or…”

“It’s ground up. They put vitamins in it.” Misae shifted to look out the window over the sink. The scars on his back and neck seemed darker, somehow, in the early morning light. Anaya found herself looking at the ancient welts that had faded nearly back to skin, layer upon layer getting darker until the freshest on top were still bright red and seemed too eager to bleed again. To scar like that… did it have to be silver? Did someone cut him, over and over again, with a silver knife? Had it been punishment, or some kind of test?

She blinked back into awareness and realized Misae was still talking. “-all kinds. Chicken, cow, pig. Whatever they have extra they didn’t need, they grind it and mix it together with some eggs and feed us.”

“Oh. Just cooked meat and eggs, no seasonings, huh?” Anaya shuddered at the idea. No wonder Misae had lost his mind over the pizza the night before.

“Meat and eggs and vitamins. Not cooked.”

Anaya’s stomach flipped and she had to stand very still, swallowing against the nausea. A lifetime spent eating mixed-up raw meat just to not starve. “Your meat’s never cooked?”

“No. Austin used to give us hamburgers when Bill was away, until he found out.” Misae apparently felt secure enough to put a little space between them, finally. He moved away and wandered off to the side, looking over a collection of framed prints on Vanessa’s wall. 

“There’s never enough for everyone,” He said, his eyes following the painted violet petals on a flower, lingering on the tiny green-skinned fairy painted hiding just behind its stem. The little fairy winked back at him with a winsome smile.

Anaya fought the urge to sigh. They were in so deep over their head with this. Werewolves were real, they had a teenage one traveling with them, some pretty bad people looking for him who had apparently beaten him and starved him and maybe done even worse than that. She and Eden were living primarily out of Eden’s car and a storage unit in Iowa. Neither of them was even remotely qualified to try and take care of a teenager, let alone a teenager who had… who had lived like that.

This could not possibly end well.

She busied herself cooking up some eggs, while Misae watched silently nearby. He never asked any questions, and when she asked if he wanted salt and pepper in his eggs, he only shrugged as if he had no idea what those things were.

Maybe he didn’t.

Once the eggs were done, though, he inhaled four of them in what felt like three seconds flat while Anaya stared over the mug of her milky-tan coffee, midway through taking a sip. 

She didn’t even think to tell him to use a fork - by the time she realized he was eating with his hands, hunched over the plate like-

Like an animal-

The eggs were already gone.

“Thank you,” Misae said softly. He smiled at her, shyly. He had a bit of egg at the corner of his mouth, and his tongue flicked out to lick it away. Anaya closed her eyes and fought the new rise of nausea all over again. His voice was so sweet, though. He was so happy. “I like eggs much better cooked. They're not slimy, like this.”

“... Glad to hear it.” Anaya barely tasted her coffee as she sipped it, beyond the general impression that it was nearly hot enough to burn her tongue. Her mind kept cycling and cycling through the same few thoughts, over and over again.

Werewolves were real. That was a hard one to shake.

Werewolves were real, and she had one sitting in this kitchen across from her, eating eggs like they were the greatest food ever made. Werewolves were real. Which meant… other ones had to exist out there somewhere, right? There was no way all the werewolves had been in one place. There were others out in the world, maybe not even that far away, who would know what to do to help Misae.

Maybe there was a whole thriving town of them out there, who would be able to teach Misae about how to be human and how to be a wolf. Schools with other werewolves learning reading and writing and how to howl at the moon. Jobs that understood if you couldn’t work night shift three days a month. Absolutely nothing made out of silver.

People who could keep him safe.

Anaya and Eden could find one of those places, find those werewolf people, and… maybe…

Maybe they could find Misae a home.

Assuming, of course, anyone they could find would take him.

What would they do if nobody else would?

-

@finder-of-rings  @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings 

@yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger

@dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood @fangedcinnamonroll @pigeonwhumps @yassifiedinformation

[whumpy-bi]

Whumpee watches through blurred, rapidly darkening vision as a new person pushes Whumper out of the way.

Even from their position on the floor, Whumpee can identify the newcomer is wearing the same uniform colors as their torturer. Different clothes, but…the same colors, Whumpee was sure of it. They moaned quietly—were they changing shifts?

The voices were distant. They bounced around Whumpee’s head like an echo along cave walls.

“Whumper. What have you done?”

“I…was questioning the detainee, Commander.”

“Questioning?” The newcomer’s voice rose a little. Whumpee half registered them looking down at them. “They’re half dead!”

“Well, they wouldn’t answer my question—“

“They can’t answer any questions, not like that.” They dropped to one knee, ignoring Whumpee’s mumbles of protest as they shined a flashlight across both of their eyes.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill them, Whumper.”

“What does it matter? They’ll probably be executed, anyway—“

“This prisoner is under my authority, do you understand? It will cost all of us if they die, but especially me. Which means you will be the one paying for it. You won’t be questioning them again.”

A long, uncomfortable silence enveloped the cell as the commander pulled Whumpee up to sit against the wall. Whumpee was silent and pliant, their entire body still aching from earlier.

“What did you do to them?”

“Standard procedures…blunt force, electric shocks—“

“Back to back, clearly. And why is there blood on the wall?”

“I…may have thrown them against it.”

“Whumper, you’re dismissed.”

Whumper left without another word, feeling a burning sensation from their commander’s harsh tone.

Whumpee closed their eyes, finally losing themselves to exhaustion as Commander sighed and spoke into their radio.

“Prisoner was injured during questioning. May be a concussion—“ They tapped Whumpee’s jaw. “Hey, stay awake. Stay awake.”

“May be a concussion, prep a medical bed. I’m taking them in myself, Whumper is no longer authorized to deal with this one.”

The words were starting to blur and mush together, Whumpee couldn’t make sense of them anymore. They weakly attempted to squirm, shifting away from the high ranking official looming over them.

“Stop moving.” Their voice wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t quite harsh either. Whumpee found themselves obeying, despite their fear and the increasing haze in their mind.

“I’m not hurting you. Do you understand me?”

Whumpee managed a weak nod.

“Good. You will be questioned again, but not now. Now, you’re receiving medical attention. I’m telling you not to fight us, it will not help you whatsoever. Do you understand?”

Another smaller nod.

“Good. Let’s go, before you actually pass out on me.”

[whumpitisthen]

Whumpee waking up in a hospital or at home, restrained for their own safety.

Maybe they're sick, maybe they are tired and delirious, maybe just horribly thoroughly conditioned. They don't even sit up, just pull a little on the light restraints and look around wildly. They whimper with anxiety at their new surroundings. Maybe they are scared of unfamiliar places, or think they are still back with whumper.

Caretaker is quick to the rescue, yet ineffective and inefficient. No matter what they say, it's like whumpee doesn't even hear them. They just keep making themself smaller, freezing up, watching for threats, babbling and stuttering out words that make no sense.

They are so confused they start crying, and caretaker's heart breaks apart at the sight.

[tianablackwell]

Irony

Whumpee grew up privileged, to say the least. He had bodyguards, a castle, a title, a ballroom, the latest tech, and, of course, his own crown. Maids respectfully bowed in his presence. Butlers would come to his aid instantly the moment he snapped his fingers.

Citizens knew to never speak bad about their crowned prince because the last person who did was never seen again.

Whumpee hardly ever left the castle or his room. Most of the time he spent staring out into space, tears in his eyes. They rarely fell, but they were always there.”

“Try to look happy for once - you don’t want your bride to get a bad first impression of you, dear. And stop crying, it’s not manly like.” His mother had smiled coldly at him that morning, giving orders to the maids to dress him up in his best for dinner that night.

It didn’t matter, anyways. He wasn’t going to dinner, and he wasn’t going to meet his “bride”. The bags he had packed full of his necessities were evidence of that.

It was surprisingly easy to run away since hardly any guards recognized him anyway. His torn and dirty clothes he had crafted just for today made him look like a gardener and no one paid him any mind. Everything was going perfectly, until he reached the woods.

He wasn’t stupid enough to try to fight the giant bear, but apparently he was stupid enough to not look where he was going. So now, here he was, lying at the bottom of a steep hill with an old bear trap caught firmly in his leg.

Life was truly ironic sometimes. But hey, at least he did what he said he would. Some achievements, like missing dinner, are smaller than others, but it doesn’t lessen their significance.

Dying alone in the woods wasn’t something he had on his bucket list, but here he was. And as much as he hated it, he felt as if this was his fate. And so, he calmly closed his eyes and let the tears fall. He didn’t even notice the approaching footsteps.

“You know kid, I was supposed to kill you. And now, I kinda feel compelled to help you.”

[w4nd3r3r123456]

CRAPPY RANT

A Whumpee who managed to expose Whumper to the Law, only to be told during the court trial that the max sentence for kidnapping is 10 years, 5-20 years for assault and abuse, but our rich Whumper gets himself a HELLA good lawyer who's ontop of everything while half the time Whumpee can't even remember what Whumpeer did to them. So, Whumper ends up with let's say.... 15 years, which isn't nearly enough for all the atrocious crimes they've commited and Whumpee will most likely still be alive in 15 years, meaning they'll be the first thign Whumper comes for when they get free.

Caretaker comforting Whumpee and telling them to enjoy the time they have and worry about the rest later.

Slowly getting comfortable with their re-established life.

Saying good night to caretaker as they enter their room only for a pair of hands to shoot out at them, one hand coverign their mouth while the other grips their throat. Whumper towering over Whumpee, grinning as they go weak in the legs. Whumper dragging Whumee to the car while threatening to kill caretaker.

Two other people waiting in the car, the one in the backseat holding whumpee does as Whumper shoves them in before driving off. "Made a deal with the guards" Whumper grins at Whumpee through the rearview mirror. "they let me out, i introduce them to our little society of pets, starting with you of course."

Whumpee thrashing under the grasp of the large person holdign them down, the smaller guard in the passenger seat next to whumper constantly turning to glance at Whumpee before commenting on how feeble they are and asking how they even managed to get away from Whumper the first time.