#wolf whump

[bebs-art-gallery]

© pet_foolery

[kaciart]

Day Two - Does your insurance cover this?: “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

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Patreon | Ko-Fi

[anigst]

Wolf's Rain - Ep 05 & 06

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WOLF BOY

when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic... now on ao3 HERE lol

i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.

it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp

.

The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.

Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.

Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”

Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade. 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip. 

He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.

Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles—and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.

It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.

As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.

The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.

Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive. 

At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him. 

“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous. 

“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters. 

Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.

Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.

“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.

Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.

He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him. 

The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse. 

When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it. 

“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.” 

Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves. 

Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.

Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.

He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.

Derek likes him back?

Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race. 

Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it. 

It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.

Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying. 

He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder. 

“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”

Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.

Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.

The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”

Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”

And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl. 

.

on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp

[whump-allthe-way]

whump stories where there’s more than one whumpee, there’s quiet a few, actually. and they all relate, they all understand each other, they can understand their issues like no one else. but something happens, and they get better. well, most of them. whumpee doesn’t, and they don’t know why. but they don’t wanna drag down their friends, not when they’re doing so well. they plod on, as if they’re okay too, and they pretend as if the lack of their previous support system of like-minded friends doesn’t hurt.

it hurts, because no one understands them now, the nights where they would curl up in their friends understanding arms are gone now, and they’re alone. they struggle in silence because it’s easier than ruining their friends triumph, they keep quiet, and they scream themselves awake every night in the dark of their empty room, and no one knows.

[adrift-in-thyme]

for the prompts, maybe smth with Twi and Hyrule? :) *hands you the whump bat*

- hero-of-the-wolf

*takes the whump bat and slaps it against my palm*

Ohoho I’m gonna make good use of this >:)

CW for blood and injury, dehumanization, and torture

———————————————————-

The screams have long ceased and yet Hyrule still hears them. They echo in his ears, screeching louder, faster, than his pounding heart.

Everywhere, it smells of blood.

He has tears on his cheeks that he can’t recall crying. His wrists are torn from the merciless rub of the manacles clamped tight around them. His head aches. There is something warm and sticky on the side of his face. His left leg has an unnatural tilt.

Hyrule lunges forward and thinks nothing of the pain it brings.

“Twilight!”

His voice is so hoarse it is hardly his own. It is so quiet that Twilight doesn’t even twitch at the sound of it. He remains where he is, lying only a short distance away in a pool of darkest crimson.

Someone kicks Hyrule in the side, yanks on the chains that restrain him, and with a cry, he falls backward. This time, when agony explodes through his every part, he feels it like knives in skin and muscle and bone. His vision whites out. When it returns, there is someone leaning over Twilight, fury in his gaze and blood on his fists.

They had left — at least, Hyrule thought they had — stepped out of the room for a moment to converse. And it had been enough, just enough to try and catch his breath, to try and reach for his brother.

Yet, really, it had never been.

“Your friend is a monster,” the man spits, as he looms over the strong boy whom these people have reduced to a crumpled heap of mangled flesh. The way he spews the word with such conviction, it is as though he thinks Hyrule will actually believe him this time. “He is a danger to Hyrule and all who live within it. Don’t cry for him. Stop wasting your paltry breaths attempting to save him.”

“He’s doing you a favor,” comes a sharp voice in Hyrule’s ear. “Everyone will be better off with that thing gone.”

The statement makes his blood boil and breath hitch.

“He’s not!” Another kick sends him into a coughing fit that threatens to burst his lungs. “He-he’s not a thing.”

His vision has decreased to shades of gray and black. His ears ring with a different melody now, grainy and high-pitched. But Hyrule pushes himself up off his side anyway and grits his teeth.

“You are the monsters.”

They begin to laugh. Great booming guffaws that ricochet in his skull and fling themselves off the walls. Hyrule flinches back.

He had expected anger. He had expected a violent outburst of rage like the one that landed him and Twilight here, born of seeing a wolf become a man.

Somehow, this is much, much worse.

“You truly are a fool, boy,” one of them sneers. She wipes imaginary tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes, grins a toothy grin. “He’s enchanted you too, hasn’t he? Is that why you haven’t stopped trying to save him? Or maybe…” She stalks closer. “Maybe, you’re just like him. An unnatural being. A savage beast lurking in human skin. Only, you seem to be better at hiding it.”

A hand grasps his shoulder. Fingernails dig into the space where muscle meets bone.

“Either way, it doesn't matter. You’ll both meet your maker before this day is through.”

Hyrule has a split second to realize the sudden increase of tension in the air, a split second to try and evade. And he spends it staring with dazed anguish at his brother.

Something collides with his skull and sheer agony explodes within it. Like the blink of an eye, the snuffing out of a candle, the world goes black.

….

With the first bits of returning consciousness, he drags himself to Twilight. It is hardly more than a desperate impulse. He can barely think past the pain that worsens with every moment he is awake. But the room seems vacant now, and nothing stands between him and his brother. Nothing but the failing vessel of his own body.

His heart pumps blood dutifully and yet, it leaves him in jagged trails of iron-scented liquid. The taste of stomach acid is pungent on his tongue. The feel of the chains against his flesh, the way every movement sends his head throbbing, makes him want to scream.

Maybe he does. Hyrule isn’t certain of anything anymore.

He drapes himself over his brother’s body, presses his head to his chest just as he had when the blows had poured down like summer rain and he had been helpless to shield Twilight from them.

They had tossed him off, chained him more securely, shouted obscenities for his efforts to rescue a beast.

The land of Hyrule has many demons. So many are a product of Ganondorf’s hatred. But not all of them. Not all.

“Traveler…” Twilight gazes at him. One eye is sealed shut, the other half-lidded and hazy. “‘M sorry.”

Hyrule breathes and it feels as though someone has taken a knife and begun to scrape his insides out. Like one would when preparing a gourd for stew.

“N-not your f-fault.”

Twilight blinks, long and slow. Somewhere deep within where rational thought still resides, Hyrule fears that if that eye closes, it will never reopen.

Get him to safety.

It is the unspoken command that has beat upon his brain since they awoke in this place, that screeched when Twilight screamed, that sang with every burst of agony upon his own flesh. He knows now more than ever that he won’t be able to obey it.

“Not y-yours either.”

Hyrule holds the rancher’s gaze for a moment, too exhausted to accept or deny his kind words. Then, he slumps forward. He fists his hands within Twilight’s matted pelt, thinks of his glorious fur. The fur their attackers had seen as cursed.

“They’ll come…” he whispers and prays that conviction rests within it. “T-they’ll find us.”

Twilight smiles, tremulously.

“Yeah.” It is a breath, a whisper.

Hyrule cannot bring himself to ask for more.

And so they lie there, in blood and gore and darkness, until the world erupts with sound and light. Until familiar voices call their names.

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

this or that - whump tropes (53)

potentially dangerous flesh wound (and you might have to look out for rabies as well) or venom that a character might not even immediately notice?

[nade2308]

@whumpgifathon | Day 22: A Knock to the Head

Headache | Knocked Out | Bloody face

"CSI: Miami", season 4, episode 8 "Nailed", Ryan Wolfe

@thethistlegirl

[phoenix-art-official]

ah yes. my favorite comedic podcast protagonist. *beats him with a wrench and chains him to a pipe in an empty room for three weeks*

[theprettiestboyinthemorgue]

Random fanfic excerpts I have saved to my phone Part.5

Site: Archiveofourown.org

Author: DaaroMoltor

Fanfic: It seems wasted now

Fandom: Teen wolf

Ship: Stiles/Derek

Fic summary:

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights.

And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

[flame-cat]

i know im on a wolf 359 kick, but i could use more whumpy podcasts!

so far ive listened to wtnv, tma, tmagp, the orbiting human circus, malevolent, the penumbra podcast, sherlock and co., and woe.begone. i tried camp here and there and didnt rlly like it, same for roadx, archive 81, and marsfall

[arlathen]

i have to say that getting to see solas fight a dragon in his wolf form and then have the final confrontation with him limping and bleeding and looking so so wet and pathetic. like that was a present for us. that was the devs saying "hi solas stans here's a gift for you"

[aceofwhump]

Day 4: Cattle Prod

Agents of Shield 6x02 | Dark Matter 1x04 | Werewolf by Night | The Mentalist 3x08 | Forever 1x08 | Legends of Tomorrow 3x16 | Burn Notice 6x11 | Hawaii Five-0 2x10 | The Rookie 1x16 | Teen Wolf 1x05 | Titans 1x07

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[candy8448]

Ooooooooooh

Im all for big brother twi to leg and love them so so much

But what if twi is antagonistic towards legend because of the wolf and rabbit? Any amount of it? Be it intentional or unintentional, legend is deathly afraid of twilight

(And not legend is scared of wolfie, but twi himself)

I wanna see a fic with this (is there any? If there are, link them please?)

[of-wounds-and-woes]

Wolf Pack S01E07/08

[anigst]

Wolf's Rain - Ep 22