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thecareandkeepingofwhumpees · 4 months

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My entry for @febuwhump day 4: obedience.

Content warnings: nudity, blood, demons, vague religious references, and knives. Let me know if you need anything added!

When Seshdhar felt themself being summoned by a human, they didn’t bother putting on clothes. Draping oneself in fabric wasn’t something demons did, given that they didn’t care about modesty, and cold wasn’t exactly a problem down there. On the rare occasion that a human managed to find an actual summoning ritual, and work up the nerve to complete it, the nudity served as a bit of a power play. For some reason, seeing someone stand in front of them, wearing no clothes yet fully confident, made humans squirm. It was amusing to watch them desperately keep their eyes on their face.

But something had gone wrong.

They hadn’t been summoned in a long time, so maybe humans had just changed since then? But no, demons in general traveled fairly often between the human realm, and a change this significant would’ve garnered at least a little gossip. So why wasn’t this human scared? Why had they not cowered, or even seemed intimidated in the slightest?

Why the heaven was their lack of clothing making them feel vulnerable? That wasn’t how it was supposed to work!

All the man — he was what humans would consider a man, they were pretty sure — had done once he summoned them was to remind them that, as he summoned them, they were now bound to his will, required to obey his every demand. Then he proceeded to command them to kneel and keep their hands folded behind their back. They could feel their face heat up, but thankfully the parts of their face that weren’t covered in keratin scales were already a deep red color, so it wouldn’t be visible.

Then, the man knelt down to their level, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I have so many questions to ask you. Let’s begin.”

“Let’s,” they agreed, with biting sardonicism.

The man laced his fingers together and squeezed them, as if he’d wanted to harass a demon for so long that he could hardly contain his excitement now that the time had come. “Alright. Firstly, can demons be hurt by human tools?”

Seshdhar did not like the sound of that. “No.” Probably.

The man tilted his head. “Hmm. I now realize that I can’t be sure that you’re answering truthfully. I suppose I will have to… see for myself. Making sure your sources are reliable is very important for a scholar like me, you understand.” He pulled out a knife from his satchel and pressed it into Seshdhar’s bare chest.

Nothing happened, and the demon almost let themself hope.

But the man merely leaned back and pulled a second knife out, because of course he carried multiple weapons on him at all times. “Now, that first knife was made of silver, but this one, though it looks very similar, is actually iron.” With an odd amount of precision, he once more brought a blade to the demon’s chest.

This time, however, it sliced through their skin.

Seshdhar hissed, not in any kind of figurative way, but very literal, with their fangs bared and everything. This did not dissuade the man in any way from continuing to carve lines into their chest. If anything, the only discontent on his face was sourced in the fact that their blood failed to stand out against their naturally crimson skin.

It hurt, it hurt so badly, burning and stinging and not stopping, but Seshdhar didn’t want to give the man the pleasure of hearing them express it. So they dug their fangs into their tongue — because what the heaven, it’s not like they weren’t already bleeding — in order to prevent any pained sounds from escaping. This was mostly successful.

After an indiscernible amount of time, the man pulled back, wiped the blade clean, and slid it back away. “Now, on to my second inquiry…”

#caretaker talks #whump #human whumper #demon whumpee #nonbinary whumpee #demon whump #whump writing #seshdhar #febuwhumpday4 #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump

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mightaswell-whump · 8 months

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Goody nuff

Centaur whump

Warning: sapient creature being treated like an animal, horse-typical riding crops used in a non-typical manner, overheating whump, lemme know if there’s more.

The sun scorches the bare shoulders of the competitor. His boxy, faintly-muscular upper half was covered in a thin jersey, displaying the number thirteen. Second to last in line, usually first to cross the line. Hips down, a strong, muscular, quadrupedal body, clothed with only a riding saddle, fidgets in anticipation. The massive beast constantly shifts its weight off of one hoof and onto the others, before putting that hoof back down again. The metallic taste from the bit between his teeth didn’t much calm his nerves.

The forward rocking motion on his horse back made number thirteen “Goody Four Shoes” shiver. A hiss in his ear of “don’t embarrass me” made him shiver worse.

On either side of centaur and rider were metal barriers separating them from other jockeys. Number twelve, Bullseye, was a jet-black monster of a horse with a deeply tanned human half. Where Goody’s owner had decided to let Goody’s long hair flow, Bullseye kept his short, not even long enough to put a clip in. On the other side was Jigsaw, number fourteen. Slightly taller than the rest, his dappled grey coat contrasted the dark human skin. His hair was kept in tiny braids at the back of his head.

He didn’t know whether it was nerves or the heat, but Goody began to feel dizzy. He tried to widen his stance, but a riding crop to the flank told him otherwise.

Silence from the crowd. The starting gates fall away as a loud bell sounds.

——————

“The FUCK was that?” Dimitry spat. “A silver? A fucking silver?”

Goody looked away, turning his gaze down and to the side. “I’m…I’m sorry, master,” he mumbled, punctuating his guilt by licking his lips.

“People expect you to win the gold! They bet on you winning first prize! Can’t you see that?!”

Silence.

“You could barely even start right, you dumb, good-for-nothing animal!”

He wasn’t expecting a riding crop to the face, and he certainly wasn’t expecting it to sting this harshly. And he absolutely wasn’t expecting another strike.

After Dimitry had his fill of lashes, he gave one final grimace as he spat at the horse, turning away. Sweaty, thirsty, and still dizzy, Goody sank to the floor and laid his head in the hay.

#whump writing #conditioned whumpee #centaur whump #human whumper #nonhuman whumpee

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ash-isnt-writing · 2 months

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{<*>} Aqua Blue {<*>}

Characters used/mentioned; Helix Vellen, Layna Ramirez, TS-0026, other unnamed characters

Writer’s note!!; Sudden impulse writing idk. Might make this a series if people like it, blah blah blah.

standard disclaimers apply, etc etc. you get the drill.

(not bothering with a border this time. i’m tired. i’ll add one later.)

TS-0026, confined to a glass tank filled with water and whatever else the containment team’d had the mercy of providing, surrounded by researchers in white coats and black button ups.

It was a particularly chilling sight to Helix, for whatever reason. More so than the others. Hell, they were only.. what, 17? It felt wrong, in every sense of the word. But he was tied down to this job. He had no other option.

The ginger sighed, and proceeded forward into the surrounding chamber, Layna, his assistant snd secretary, following close. “Does this thing ever sleep?” Helix remarked, more to himself than anybody else, but he wouldn’t mind an answer either.

“Apparently” A nearby researcher responded, Helix’s keen eyes darting over to the speaker. “It just finds a spot, gets comfy, and falls asleep right on the spot, straight into deep stage sleep.”

“…Huh.” Helix murmured, eyes drifting back to the tank. Straight into deep stage? How… weird. “Do we know how it does that?”

“Not a clue” Another passing researcher replied. “It’s harder to run tests on.. well, a merman, considering half our staff don’t know how to swim, and it’s generally quite hard to run exams under water.”

Ah, of course. Helix didn’t know why he hadn’t considered this earlier. He barely knew how the containment team had secured the subject in the first place. It would’ve been a feat in of itself. Actually trying to run tests on it was going to be a whole marathon.

“Well, find a way” He snapped after a moment. “I need answers, and I need them now. If it has some way to just snap into sleep like that… I want to know why, and I want to know if we can utilise it.”

The thing with Helix, Layna had come to learn, was that when he said ‘we’, he never meant himself. Sure, he did the paperwork, but it was rare to see him himself in tests anymore unless he felt he was the only one capable, or it was a test subject he was particularly interested in.

Either way, she found he’d refuse involvement with younger test subjects. Which didn’t seem to stop him when she and her siblings were younger, but alas…

“With all due respect, Doctor, we should probably consult Administration first” Layna cut in. “We really shouldn’t be running any sort of tests until we have their absolute approval.”

As much as Helix wanted to snap at her, she had a point. It would be a stupid idea to just go in and do whatever without authorisation. He’d tried that before, he wasn’t making the same mistake.

“..Right” He sighed, then turned to the younger researcher once more. “Keep an eye on that thing. If it does any shit while I’m gone, do not engage.”

“But sir-“

“There’s no buts here, damn it! Do not engage it at any point until we have greenlit testing approval, is that clear?”

A solemn nod. Helix grunted, and then made his leave. He fucking hated these meetings, but authority was authority, and he knew they were watching him.

#oc #human whumper #helix vellen #inhuman whumpee #no name decided yet but i’ll get there!!#whumpee turned whumper #layna ramirez #fictional organisation #sts labs #cw not proof read #cw cursing #i can’t think of any others right now but yeah #eepy rn

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chaotic-orphan · 3 months

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A Benignant Mischief (3)

Read part one here

Continued from this part here

*~*~*~*~*

“We have to stop at the stables first,” said Henrik. Cosimo nodded. “I don’t know if I will be able to take you directly to the King, either.”

So, he was the King to Henrik when they were in the palace, not Niko. Cosimo swallowed the lump in his throat at his words, not fully registering them until they got closer to stables.

“Wait, where will I go if you can’t take me?” Cosimo asked, panic seizing his chest.

“The cells,” said Henrik, his tone measured and so unlike how he was on their journey here. Did Henrik really just plamás Cosimo into being docile while he brought Cosimo here? Why was he acting so strangely, so unlike Henrik?

You don’t really know Henrik, a nasty voice in the back of Cosimo’s head said. You saw the way the other soldiers deferred to him. Clearly, they’re scared of him.

“The cells, but—”

“Cosimo,” Henrik sighed. Oh no. He was already tired of Cosimo. He should have known not to trust a human. He was so stupid.

Henrik climbed off Ebony and then put his hands up for Cosimo. Cosimo twisted in the saddle and Henrik lifted him down. The creato sizzled Cosimo’s flesh but he didn’t dare make a complaint about it.

Henrik handed the horse off to another person and then put a strong hand on Cosimo’s back, guiding Cosimo along with Henrik as they walked a confusing path into the castle.

Cosimo couldn’t really focus on much as he was escorted through numerous halls and corners, was there a stair involved at some point? Cosimo couldn’t remember. He should pay attention, but the world seemed to pass by too fast, and too slow all at once. He was very aware of his breathing as they walked.

They finally stopped in front of two soldiers guarding a heavy dark wooden door. Henrik said: “I need to speak with the King.”

One of the soldier’s smiled when he saw Henrik and said, “sure. Go ahead.”

The other soldier had his dark eyes trained on Cosimo, who was still hidden behind the hood and cloak. The man with dark eyes glanced down at Cosimo’s bare feet that Cosimo tried to hide behind Henrik’s but failed.

“Wait,” said the dark eyed man. He reached out to the hood and Cosimo stepped back, half hiding behind Henrik. The soldier’s hand fell away. “Who is this, Henrik?”

Cosimo could feel Henrik hesitate, but he also knew Henrik couldn’t just not tell them who Cosimo was.

Henrik’s hand touched the hood then and Cosimo let his head hang, holding his breath as the material fell onto his shoulders. Immediately the soldiers were on guard, ready to defend the door.

“Are you crazy Henrik?” The easy-going soldier hissed.

“It can’t go in with you.”

“It will save a lot of time if—”

The easy-going soldier’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious! Have you been speaking to it?”

“He’s just a boy,” Henrik said through gritted teeth. The dark eyed soldier hadn’t taken his eyes off Cosimo once the entire conversation.

“In any event it is a child of the forest, Henrik. I will escort it to the cells to await trial.”

Cosimo’s heart hammered in his chest when the dark eyed soldier reached for him. He bared his teeth in response his only defence left to him.

“Cosimo,” Henrik said softly. He placed a hand on Cosimo’s shoulder and turned him gently to face Henrik. Cosimo instantly calmed; wide eyes fixed on Henrik’s kind ones. “I will come and collect you when it’s time for your trial, but I need you to go with Rochus.”

“I—” Cosimo began, searching Henrik’s face and seeing clear the warning on his features. If you try to escape the other soldiers will hurt you again, do you understand? Henrik was being as diplomatic as he could, but he already told Cosimo he might not be allowed to stay with him. “Okay,” he said, putting a brave face on.

“Good. Rochus do be gentle. He’s no trouble,” Henrik said to the dark eyed man who took Cosimo by the arm and pulled him closer. Cosimo’s limited resistance had his wrists hitting off the irons. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying out. He wouldn’t show weakness to the other soldiers. He refused.

Rochus let out a soft hmph of disapproval at Henrik’s orders but didn’t make any other comment against him. Being the King’s personal guard must come with a hefty title and high rank for all these soldiers to just follow his orders with little more than a scowl.

Rochus began to drag Cosimo away from Henrik and the nicer guard. Cosimo wanted to keep Henrik in sight for as long as possible, but he refused to appear vulnerable in front of Rochus. Or more vulnerable.

Rochus took him down a different staircase than Cosimo came up. Cosimo made sure to commit the turns and stairs and doors to memory so he would know where Henrik was. How long it would take to get to him, how long it would take for Henrik to save him from the cells.

“Did you struggle on the way here?” Rochus asked Cosimo. Cosimo frowned at him, and Rochus nodded to Cosimo’s nose. Cosimo went to touch it but then grit his teeth at the irons hitting his wrists.

“No,” said Cosimo. “This was an accident.”

“Someone broke your nose by accident?”

“No,” said Cosimo with a frown. “When I was trying to flee from the soldiers, I cut one. Then when Henrik caught me the soldier I cut stomped on my face.”

Rochus snorted. “Yeah. No trouble at all.”

Cosimo didn’t say anything in reply to that. The steps to the dungeons were wide and long, it took Cosimo with his long legs two steps to clear one.

“Heh, yeah. They’re a pain,” said Rochus at Cosimo’s confused huff. “They’re to prevent prisoners escaping with ease. They tire people out faster, but then again… you’re not people.”

Cosimo didn’t take the bait. He didn’t want to sink to Rochus’ level. Rochus stopped at a gate at the end of the infernal staircase and hit it twice. A soldier wearing a black version of the soldiers’ uniform stood and unlocked the gate.

“Another one?” The guard asked and Cosimo’s heart stopped.

Another one? Had they found the boy? Had they taken him and put him in irons too? Cosimo’s breath tried to get away from him, but he struggled to lock it in his chest. He couldn’t panic or they would know.

“Henrik found it.”

Cosimo searched the cells for the other prisoner. Please don’t be here, please don’t be here, Cosimo prayed as he was dragged to a cell at the back of the dungeon, the furthest from the door. Rochus smiled at Cosimo as the guard opened the door.

“Can’t be too careful,” Rochus said and guided Cosimo inside. Rochus stepped to the right as Cosimo was passing through the bars and Cosimo was forced to go right with him. His wrist hit off the bars to the cell and he let out a startled cry. He hurtled forward but Rochus stepped in closer pinning him to the iron.

Cosimo struggled against him but that just meant other parts of his exposed flesh hit off the bars as well.

“Hey! Get off of him!” Another voice demanded from somewhere in the dungeon, but Cosimo didn’t really care at that point. He shoulders his way passed Rochus through sheer desperation and Rochus let go of him.

Cosimo’s momentum caused him to fall on his shoulder to the stone floor, but he didn’t care as long as his skin wasn’t touching the iron anymore. Cosimo glared up at Rochus, deciding then and there that he despised the dark eyed man.

“Just wanted to show you what happens if you try to escape.”

“You could have just told me,” Cosimo snapped. Rochus smirked.

“I find actions speak louder than words. Though you are a stubborn one. I think you can keep the cuffs on until Henrik fetches you.”

Cosimo bared his teeth at Rochus in return. Rochus tilted his head to the side. “See? Vicious.”

Then he closed the cell door and locked it. Cosimo kept his glare trained on Rochus the entire way out of the dungeon, waited until he disappeared up the steps back to Henrik and the king. Cosimo then, and only then, got to his feet with an effort and walked over to the bed at the back of the cell.

It wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t comfortable either, but Cosimo was too tired to care. He lay down on his side, facing the cell bars and waited for Henrik to come rescue him.

It was pathetic, he thought mutinously, waiting for a human to come rescue him from… the exact reason Cosimo was there to begin with!

What would the elders say of Cosimo back in court? What would they think? They’d call him a foolish child and tell him he should know better, because he should. Cosimo should know better than to trust humans.

“Hey,” a voice called from somewhere in the dungeon. Cosimo frowned. “Child of the forest.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” said Cosimo, voice dignified and oozing with the self hatred he was feeling.

“Hush, child, is that any way to speak to your elders?”

Cosimo blinked. Then he sat up on the cot, his eyes searching all the cells until they landed on two pale blue eyes diagonally across from Cosimo, the last cell on the wall before the dip of Cosimo’s cell. Cosimo’s eyes went to his ears and saw them end in a point.

“You’re an elf,” said Cosimo and heard the other elf scoff.

“Of course I’m an elf. We are the only guilty parties that fill these cells in this kingdom.”

Cosimo’s chest tightened at the implication of his words.

“Are you an assassin?” Cosimo asked with a breath.

The elf’s eyes narrowed at the accusation. “Should I ask if you are an assassin too, or shall I spare you the insult?”

Cosimo frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“From which court do you belong?” The elf asked. Cosimo swallowed.

“I don’t belong to any court,” he replied. The elf was silent for a moment, before his hums echoed around the cold stone walls.

“A renegade,” the elf said, knowing colouring his words. “You are young. Too young to be without a court to speak for you. Why abandon them?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters, but you do not wish to tell me,” the other elf said as he turned to face Cosimo full. “So be it. My name is Oreste.”

“My name is Cosimo.”

“May the sun shine on our greeting, Cosimo.”

“And may we always find shade, Oreste.”

“Marvellous, now that we have the niceties out of the way tell me why that soldier left you in irons.”

Cosimo shrugged, shifting on his bed to curl his legs up around him. He sat with them bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles, as if he was about to connect with the earth.

“Do you want me to tell you why?”

“I know why,” said Cosimo lightly, tiring of their conversation, resting his head back against the wall. “Their people hate our kind. He’s probably just scared.”

“Or he’s deliberately vile,” Oreste snarled. “You see how they talk of us. They call our people it, like we are vermin.”

“I don’t care why he did it,” said Cosimo. “I am tired. I want to sleep.”

“Look at you,” Oreste said to Cosimo, a smile on his handsome face. “Locked in iron cuffs and happy, and me free and angry. What an odd pair we make.”

“There is no we,” said Cosimo. “I don’t know you, Oreste. Your name doesn’t bring to mind any stories of great elves of the past, nor present.”

“Ah,” Oreste hummed, his voice taking on a hint of knowing that caused Cosimo pause. “Cosimo… it is an interesting name, you know. I only know of one court to use it, but you couldn’t possibly be one of those elves. They’re proper, proud, arrogant.”

Cosimo grit his teeth and said nothing, but he could feel Oreste’s probing pale eyes on him, watching for any reaction Cosimo made.

“They’re not the type to runaway from home.”

Cosimo turned his head, eyes narrowed at the Oreste. He was passed the age of maturity, which meant he could be anywhere between 40-200 years old. He had no creases of a wise elder, and his eyes were too bright and wiry to be old. Too reckless.

Cosimo’s attention went to the piercings on Oreste’s ears, adorned with rings of metal. Cosimo frowned once he recognised what the rings meant.

“You are an assassin,” he told Oreste. “Your piercings…They’re of an elf who goes against the laws of nature. And I bet if I were closer I could see a tattoo of the Astrayed on you.”

Oreste laughed. It was melodic and dark, and caused a chill to run down Cosimo’s spine.

“You definitely are of the Cosimo’s I know. What would your family say, Cosimo?” Oreste asked, all pretence of familiar bond lost now. Oreste’s words were stripped of all custom, now they were as cold as the irons locked around Cosimo’s wrists. Cosimo swallowed as he met the Oreste’s pale, piercing eyes. “Running away from home. Abandoning their ways… in favour of what? Have the humans endeared you?”

“You know nothing about me,” Cosimo growled, voice low.

“Isn’t that the point of this conversation to get to know one another? Hazard a guess, what would your father say?”

“I think he’d tell me not to talk to an Astrayed elf.”

Oreste clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Come, Cosimo. Is that any way to speak to your future people? If you want I can tell you where the Astrayed are right now. We can get your piercings done and—”

Cosimo sprung to his feet, his teeth bared. “I am not Astrayed. I am nothing like you!” He snarled. “In a twist of fate I ended up here, speaking with you.”

Oreste hummed, resting his head against the wall of his cell, fixing his eyes back to the door of the dungeon. “Do not speak so little of fate, Cosimo. It works with a power neither of us can never truly know. Who knows. Perhaps we were destined to meet today.”

“If that is the case I hope it smiles on my future more favourly to greet nicer souls down the road.”

Oreste hummed again, a smile in his voice as he said: “be careful with words, Cosimo. You never know just how tacitly they can turn on you.”

With that their conversation ended. Cosimo turned away from Oreste’s cell to the dungeon’s entrance, his heart thundering in his temples and his chest rising and falling with the frustration of Oreste’s warnings.

He settled on his cot after pacing for a while, and as the sun rose higher outside he willed for Henrik to walk through those doors and rescue him. He wished to be away from this damp, stone fortress and back in the elfbow with the boy and the fox. He wished… with a stabbing in his heart, to see his family again.

Maybe Oreste was right.

Maybe he shouldn’t have run, but he didn’t have a choice!

Did he?

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage roll call (tag-list, lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @annablogsposts

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ladywhumplady · 1 month

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Louisa's Lessons

Hi! This is my first time posting whump writing on this account and I hope you like it. I have my asks open if anyone wanted to request something lady whump related or something to do with Louisa.

Louisa peered down the the road, careful all was clear. Her nails still dropped with blood so she had to be careful not to touch the wall as she did so. The acrid air reeked similarly of the liquid she'd seen her family covered in.

Her hair, tied up into a messy bun, would no longer be able to be used as evidence if it attached itself to any walls or floors. After they'd found her last time, she hadn't worn her hair down since. Anything to prevent her capture, anything to avoid ending up like her parents.

In her pocket, a bomb – her last bomb – quieted her nerves. While it may not be able to save her from a close-distance attack, some her pursuers would at least be dealt with if she was swift. Afterwards, she was sure she'd find herself rather panicked.

But despite all the running, the screaming, the crying, the suffering she caused others who aided her, anything was better than becoming owned. She'd seen the pathetic wretches crawling about, mutilated beyond belief. She'd seen the blank, dazed looks in their eyes, the missing teeth, eyes, skin-chunks and limbs. Behind closed doors, it was sure to be worse.

She darted down the next street, her bare feet padding desperately on the rough stone floor. It stung – of course it stung – but she’d had to sell even the shoes on her feet days ago for a meagre bowl of mystery soup. Louisa still maintained there was no way the slop she'd been served had been worth even one shoe but she'd been truly desperate, perhaps a week without food.

The road she'd found herself on was actually rather busy, busy enough that a car passed another at every moment, a constant flow of cars on either side of the road. But a bin thankfully provided her a safe barrier from the road to squat while she planned a way out.

She breathed a warm breath into the winter's air, white wisps floating up to the billboards looming over. The bright things flicked from advertisement to advertisement, though one flashed up more than all others combined.

‘Have You Seen These Traitors?’ It enquired, photographs of all those that the government hated flashing up in rows. There were four faces on each row, four rows in total. Sixteen, with two faces blacked out.

Louisa recognised both of them.

In fact, Louisa recognised every face on that board: Simon, Alastair, Elodie, Mona- the list went on. But there was no face she recognised more than the first face in row two, a picture of a frowning brunette teenager with what looked like a mullet. Louisa hadn't had a mullet in quite some time and her face was a fair bit more aged, dirty and gaunt, but there was no doubt about it that it was her's.

The dull, calm girl who wore government mandated apparel, who was poster-pet material, who would roll over and do whatever was asked of her, had gone years ago.

When had it all gone so wrong?

Louisa surveyed the road. Far too busy for her to cross unscathed and unnoticed. She debated whether turning back would be the better option. On the one hand, the Tolian government was on her back. On the other, better dead than tortured.

The gaps between cars were few and fast-lived but if she tried… If she really tried, she understood she might be able to get to the middle of the road and eventually the other side. It was risky, put her in public view, but would be very good at putting distance and breaking the trail between her and her pursuers.

It was too rewarding an answer to ignore.

It could save her.

It could kill her-

It was the best solution she could think of.

It was her final choice.

Louisa was not a free woman, had never been a free woman in Tolaris and her actions were of the rationality of a caged animal. She knew it was stupid, reckless and insane but what else could she do? Wait for the agents that were likely less than a mile away? Wait for the helicopter to chase her down like they did Magnus?

She breathed in a sigh of calmness and contemplation as she waited for a gap to emerge. If she died, she died as a fugitive of the state, someone who the history books would know didn't sit down and be the state's obedient little citizen. She would die a martyr – who could ask for more?

Twelve cars in the distance, Louisa could see one car was a good three metres away from the one behind. It wasn't much – not at the speed of the traffic – but it was enough, just enough.

Louisa inhaled, she exhaled, and took in a final breath, charging forward at the traffic. She wouldn't make it, she realised, halfway across the lane.

It was a good thing something tugged her back.

#lady whump #whump scenario #totalitarian whump #whump #whump writing #defiant whumpee #pet whump #human whumper #whump community

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rosewriteswhump · 1 year

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mOVING TO NEW BLOG I QILL NO LONGER UPDATE HERE BUT @OFCLrosewriteswhump and Masterlist Link!

Hello!

My name is Rose (she/her) and I write whump.

Most of it is hurt/comfort leaning towards comfort. The writers I follow and look up too cos I am new to posting my writing.

@livelaughwhump @whumpsday @whumpshaped @emmettnet @a-crumb-of-whump and @nullb1rdbones

Click the readmore for yes tropes, no tropes, dni, and anything else I might think of!

Favorite Tropes: pet whump recovery, strong willed yet passive whumpee, non-human whumpees and caretakers, lady whumpers, mostly lady characters, I'll add more as I think of them

Least Favorite tropes: explicit Non-con, caretaker turned whumper, Eds, anything with bugs or arachnids, animal abuse,

DNI if you: Support trump, are racist, transphobic, homophobic, hate any religion because it is not your own, rad fems, pro life, were happy when roe v wade was overturned, against univeral health care, agaisnt minimum wage being livable, support animal abuse, are and ableist, think all cluster b people are bad, judge a group by the actions of one and refuse to listen to anything else, support autism speaks

That's it for now! I'll make posts about characters as I finish naming them and I'll add them here. Please enjoy your time here and My askbox is always open my main blog is @rosekins621

#picrew #masterpost #fantasy whump #whump #nonhuman whumpee #human whumper #fairy whumpee #fairy caretaker

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clickerflight · 15 days

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Clove: Part 21 - No Monologues

Bois.... there's more to this story than I thought there would be. We vibing but this is wild!

Masterlist - Part 20

Content: Werewolf whumpee, human whumper, vampire caretaker, exhaustion, strangulation, a rather quick and violent death

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Goldenrod was really struggling to stay on top of the pillar now. He was tired and shaky, his fingers trembling on the ritual knife as he tried to dodge and shield himself from the barrage of gravel Jack kept sending his way, hoping to knock him down. He was so scared. He just had to hang on till Ephraim got here. He had to. He didn’t think he could fight Jack again. He shouldn’t have swallowed any of Jack’s blood earlier. It was making Hyrum feel really sick and making the whole situation that much worse.

The newest rock attack slowed to a stop, Jack panting below, still pacing back and forth. He was chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at the skies nervously over and over again. The fae queen had to know by now. Was she going to come here or was she setting up defenses against him? He didn’t have time. He really didn’t have time.

He chewed harder, running out of nail and just started in on the flesh of his thumb with his sharp teeth as he stared up at Hyrum, who watched with a numb sort of exhaustion in his eyes. That was good. Jack knew that look well. The pup wouldn’t be able to stay up there for long.

Jack looked over at another pillar, spaced not that far away from Hyrum’s and stopped chewing on his thumb. If he couldn’t get Hyrum down with magic, he’d have to do it with force.

So, the sorcerer started to climb a pillar, slowly and laboriously as he kept slipping down the smooth rock face. He nearly slid all the way to the bottom when he felt a stinging pain bite into his skull. He snarled as he realized Hyrum had chucked a rock at his head, and forced himself to climb higher.

He scrambled onto the top, and without even so much as a moment to catch his breath, he turned and threw himself across the gap.

Hyrum yelped, holding the blade up to try and defend himself, but Jack crashed into him, sending them both onto the gravel below.

Hyrum was well protected by his being a werewolf, however that didn’t help with the way the crash had sent the wind right out of his lungs.

Jack grabbed the knife from out of trembling fingers and grabbed Hyrum’s throat with the other hand. “Alright, pup. I hope you enjoyed all of that. A waste of time and energy if you ask me,” he said, picking Hyrum up as he gasped and scratched at Jack’s wrist.

Vindictively, Jack slammed Hyrum into the altar, making the pup’s eyes go wide and dazed as his head smacked into the obsidian.

Jack now took a moment to breathe, changing his grip on the knife and on Hyrum’s throat so he could try and get at his voice box.

“I would tell you to hold still, but that would be a bit of a waste of breath, wouldn’t it,” Jack said as Hyrum seemed to come back to his senses, fear and helplessness flooding his face as he realized he just didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore.

Jack allowed himself a moment to drink it in. How couldn’t he, really. The pup had always been so cute and desperate when he was scared. So perfectly defenseless.

“I think I will miss you a little… not much, but a little,” Jack commented mostly to himself, flipping the knife one more time for good measure before leaning over Hyrum to make the first incision.

He only got as far as touching the blade to the werewolf’s throat, Hyrum’s golden eyes squeezed shut with silent tears tracking down his dirty cheeks, when Jack was slammed to the side and into the ground.

He scrabbled at the gravel, reaching for the knife he dropped, but a powerful hand closed on the back of his neck, the other grabbing the back of his clothing to throw him onto his back.

Jack’s manic eyes landed on Ephraim, who stood clean and furious before him, lips drawn back to show his broken fang.

Ephraim had felt his heart nearly fall out of his rib cage when he’d seen Jack leaning over Hyrum like that, but was glad to see the pup scramble off the altar, frozen in indecision between trying to get away and going to hug Ephraim.

“Ephraim!” Jack said in a placating tone, trying to get himself sorted out to sit up. “So good to see you! I thought you’d be in the pits by- CKkk”

Ephraim stood on his throat, watching as the sorcerer tried to get Ephraim’s foot off. “I almost was,” he replied, leaning some weight on it. “Goodbye, Jack. Hope you are remembered in tales for the truly terrible fate you are dealt in the afterlife.

Jack shook his head, eyes wide as he struggled to speak.

“Bck! N’v’r bck! Wi’ow m’!”

Ephraom threw back his head and laughed a truly cold laugh. “I don’t care. I have an in with the queen here. I’m not concerned about getting back.”

“D’nt tr’st-”

“Oh I know,” Ephraim said, leaning hard just to watch as the sorcerer’s face turned an odd shade of blue. “I won’t, trust you that.”

Jack, realizing he wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of this, tried to gather the last bits of strength he had after constantly attacking Hyrum and after the arduous journey here, but Ephraim lifted his foot and slammed it into the sorcerer’s throat, listening to the satisfying crack of his neck.

Ephraim stood like that, breathing heavily before he looked back at Goldenrod. “Don’t watch.”

Goldenrod, eyes wide and teary, nodded and turned away as Ephraim knelt down, slowly cracking Jack open to pull out each and every organ he could get his hands on and destroy them, scattering them everywhere. As soon as he had reduced Jack to a smear that no magic would be able to bring him back from, Ephraim stood up, stepping out of the now deactivated ritual circle to wipe his hands off in the grass.

He looked back to see Goldenrod curled on his side on the ground, face almost touching one of the pillars.

He got up and walked to Goldenrod only to realize that his little boy was breathing slowly and calmly, so trusting in Ephraim to deal with the mess that he paid no heed to the noises and let sleep take him.

Ephraim clicked his tongue. He wanted to take the moment to heart and relish in it, but they weren’t safe yet. They were still in the fae realm, and while the fae queen was soft on his fledgling and Benny would surely do anything for him to get in his good graces again, Ephraim didn’t think for even a moment that they were anywhere near close to safe. They weren’t going to be safe till they were all home and that entrance in the forest was sealed.

Ephraim carefully scooped Goldenrod into his arms, lifting him. The werewolf woke enough to grab onto him before he fell asleep again, the fear and constant adrenaline too much for his little system.

Ephraim didn’t spare the smears in the gravel behind him any heed as he stepped into the grass, walking back towards where the castle had been. He didn’t know if they would actually make it since traveling in the fae wilds had turned out to be strange, getting Ephraim to the ritual place much faster than he expected without even seeing the entrance to the fae realm once on the way here, but he was sure Benny would have someone come looking for him, and there were already fae scouts out looking for Jack.

He walked for about an hour, Goldenrod only stirring to snuggle closer, when he saw some of the fog clearing ahead and a fae walked out through it. It was the gauzy fae from before. Kortops.

“What have you found, Vampire?” he called.

“My pup,” Ephraim replied cautiously. “I’ve killed the sorcerer, though you may want to dispose of his remains somehow. I am concerned he knew a good deal of dark magic and might have some way to come back.”

“I will have someone look into it. I will walk you back, yes?”

Ephraim was conflicted. He wanted to demand to go home, but he wasn’t certain how the fae would react to that and there was a large part of him that wanted to convince Benny to come home. But if they stayed they wouldn’t be able to eat. And Goldenrod needed to eat.

“We will walk back to the palace,” Ephraim said uneasily. “Tell me, is there food here that isn’t of the fae.”

Kortops laughed. “You think we will hold you here if you eat it?”

“I believe it may weaken defenses more than anything else,” Ephraim said a little testily. “I would really prefer to keep my wits about me.”

Kortops looked like he almost wanted to be offended about that, his wings flicking, but he sighed. “You have caught us, vampire. We are to be only the best hosts, and we will provide you with completely unenchanted food.”

“Every time?”

“Every time,” the fae promised with a roll of his eyes.

Good. It seemed Ephraim had discovered another rule the fae have to live by. They are, first and foremost good hosts, and they had to be truthful in their dealings as such.

Ephraim would need to think carefully over all of his requests to be sure to watch for loop holes, then, and no fae would get to talk to Hyrum even once without Ephraim being there.

“Thank you,” Ephraim said. Manners were likely important in a place like this. “When we arrive at the castle, I would like good, unenchanted food and a safe and secure place to sleep with a promise that no fae or fae servant will disturb us as we sleep. We have had a long, long day.”

“Of course,” Kortops said, taking on a subservient, though distant tone now. “Anything else for you, my liege?”

“That will be all for tonight,” Ephraim replied, just as distantly. His thoughts were already on the idea of a warm, comfortable shower and then a warm, comfortable bed where he and Goldenrod could curl up and he could ensure that his pup was safe and still alive.

The palace loomed up through the mists again and Kortops led him inside, relaying orders to the servants who led Ephraim to a room.

After Ephraim had triple checked that they knew to bring unenchanted but good food, he turned to caring for Goldenrod, getting some warm water and soap from the bathroom to clean his wounds and scrapes. Goldenrod was somewhat awake for this, whining and crying a little about being disturbed, but his demeanor changed as he smelled food as the fae brought it in for them to eat.

Soon enough, they were fed, cleaned, clothed and in bed, Goldenrod passed out without even managing to say goodnight, and Ephraim, a hand on the back of Goldenrod’s head, followed soon after.

Part 22

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps

#whump #clove #werewolf whumpee #human whumper #vampire caretaker #exauhstion #strangulation #violent death #dismemberment #kind of #hyrum/goldenrod #ephraim #jack #i love this story #so excited because this story has another bit that I hadn't anticipated!#very intrigued by this #love being a pantser sometimes

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thecareandkeepingofwhumpees · 6 months

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Content warnings: blood-drinking, dehumanization, alcohol, self deprecation, and starvation. Please ask if you need any added.

Tokito ran his fingers over his ribs. All twenty-four were clearly defined, standing out against his pale skin. He was so hungry.

His fingers eventually moved their exploration to the muzzle that was keeping him from the nutrients he so desperately needed. He hated it, hated the gnawing in his gut, hated how desperation clouded his mind and made him act like the animal Wallace believed him to be.

“Do you remember what’s happening this evening?” were the words Wallace used to announce his presence. Before waiting for Tokito’s response that he did, in fact, remember what was happening that evening, and had been dreading it all week, Wallace answered his own question. “Of course you don’t. It’s okay, I know you’re just a dumb little pet. This evening I’m having a guest over for dinner, and you will be the entertainment. Do you think you can put on a show for her?”

Tokito curled his lips back in a sneer and growled.

“Ooh, feisty! Yes, that would be perfect.”

There was no real way for Tokito to win in this situation.

Wallace adjusted the place settings at his dining table, then moved on to do the same with the art on his walls. The busywork wasn’t doing much to soothe his nerves. Rich and powerful, the lady he’d be hosting was definitely one to impress. The fact that his place in high society was relatively new would make that difficult, but he was determined to do so, and his new pet could only make it easier.

The ringing of his doorbell startled him out of his nervous reverie. He left the painting alone to open the door, but doubled back a split second later to make one final adjustment to the frame’s tilt.

Satisfied, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and opened the door.

When Wallace dragged Tokito out to meet his guest, it was with a finger hooked around a strap of his muzzle, making the leather press against the back of his neck in a way that was sure to leave a mark. He showed him off like a proud owner at a dog show. He forced him to obey a series of commands, making sure to emphasize the fangs that jutted out past his lips.

At one point, Tokito’s eyes connected with those of Wallace’s guest. They were wide, and looked almost horrified. He wasn't surprised. That wasn’t exactly an unusual reaction for someone who was seeing a vampire for the first time.

Once Wallace had had his fun, he locked Tokito up in a spare room, leaving the key far out of reach yet tauntingly in sight.

When Edmée had received an invitation from Wallace, announcing that he had something he’d like to show her, she hadn’t exactly been sure what to expect. She’d always had a bad feeling about the man, but, with no proof to back it up, she’d shoved the feeling aside.

Well, she’d gotten the proof she wasn't looking for.

Wallace's big surprise turned out to be… a man he was holding captive? She wasn’t sure why he assumed that admitting that he’d committed a criminal offense would endear himself to her, and she wasn’t exactly fond of the implications.

She waited, playing nice and making idle chatter, until his mind and limbs were heavy with wine. At that point, she excused herself under the pretext of needing the restroom. The vampire was curled into a fetal position when she found him, as if he were trying to protect his stomach.

“Hello,” she said, crouching down on the floor opposite him. “My name is Edmée — maybe Wallace already told you that. I’m sorry that he’s been doing this to you; I’m sure you don’t deserve it. I can get you out of here, and you can stay the night at my house if you’d like. I’ve definitely got the room to spare.”

Tokito had no idea what was happening.

His eyes, clouded in equal parts suspicion and desperation, searched the woman in front of him for any clue. Eventually, desperation won over. He pulled himself to a standing position with great difficulty, given his weakened state and the fact that it wasn’t an action Wallace was particularly fond of. Standing but still hunched around his stomach, he made to follow her.

They had to walk past Wallace to get to the door, and yet he didn’t realize what was going on until they’d nearly passed him. “Hey, where you goin’?” he slurred. When he was met with no response, he forced himself to his feet, trying to catch up to them on unsteady legs. Mercifully, he tripped on air and fell hard. It was an odd experience for Tokito, seeing the man who’d held so much power over him be laid low by something as simple as wine — and, if he were being honest, a bit shameful. He’d really let himself be controlled by this?

Edmée pulled him into her car, buckled both of their seatbelts, and sped off. Once they were what she deemed a safe distance away, she pulled over. Turning to face him, she asked, “Do you want me to take the muzzle off?”

That was, for her sake, a terrible idea, but the hunger fogging his mind rendered him unable to say no. He nodded desperately.

Reaching over and taking a utility knife out from her glove compartment, she began to saw at the muzzle's leather strap, careful and excruciatingly slow.

The second he was free, he lunged forward, sinking his teeth into her neck. She stiffened at the — well, he’d call it unexpected contact, but really, what was she expecting?

Edmée, generally a fan of charity, had routinely given blood for a few years. She was used to the feeling, and expected her current experience to feel similar. She wasn’t exactly wrong. When she ran a hand down the vampire’s all-too-prominent spine, she felt him jump slightly at the touch, and then melt into it. She was distantly reminded of her pet cat.

Another benefit of her prior experience with blood being taken is that she knew to stop when she began to feel dizzy. It took a little time, given that she’d just eaten, but the lightheadedness was inevitable.

“I’m sorry, but I need a break,” she told him. He whined, but at her prodding pulled away with little resistance, looking up at her with half-lidded eyes. She leaned his seat back for him. “You can sleep now. Stay the night at my house, and we’ll figure the rest out in the morning.”

Tokito yawned like a cat, showing off his still-blood smeared fangs, and drifted off to sleep.

#i know this isn't great #i'm just getting used to this style of writing #vampire whumpee #human whumper #rich caretaker #pet whump #whump #caretaker talks #edmée #tokito #wallace

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deckofaces · 1 year

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Hi bestiiie please please please could you write a fae whumpee with yandere human(s)? No pressure ofc and thank you in advance 💕

Please accept these lesbian fairies as a token of my appreciation ✨️

Omg of course you can request that bestie <3 I hope you like it! (Also ugh I love the fairies, I cherish them)

Gilded Cage

Tw: burns/blisters, yandere whumper, captivity, fae whumpee, use of iron against whumpee

Faerie sat down on the soft, but fake grass of their room. Surrounding them there were potted plants everywhere. Some of them were huge and almost reached the ceiling while the others were tiny. It seemed like an insult, the fake forest Human provided for them. They missed the real one, the one they were from. Their wings were folded behind their back and tears ran down their face as they wished they could escape.

They looked down at their wrist. It throbbed horribly. There sat an iron cuff, the human that had taken them prisoner knew enough about fae to not fall for their tricks and knew that iron weakened them. So much so they could not escape.

Faerie hopelessly picked at the cuff, trying anything to pull it off their wrist. All they could do was wince in pain as the action just burned their fingers.

They glanced up as they heard the loud sound of the door unlocking. Human stepped into the room carrying a bag with them and crouched down in front of the faerie. They wiped their tears, though Faerie pulled their head away soon after.

“Hello my Faerie,” Human hummed, admiring the faerie that sat in front of them.

“Don’t call me that,” they whispered in reply, “I do not know your name, do not use mine.”

Human chuckled at that, wiping more tears. “Oh dear.. You know I can’t give you my name. That is not why you are here. But do not think about that.. Why are you crying?”

Why had the faerie been crying? Maybe humans really were that stupid. Everything about their situation made them want to sob. But currently it was the condition of their wrist. It looked to be covered in burns from the iron cuff, and it ached like nothing else they have ever felt. They weakly lifted their cuffed wrist, showing Human their burns.

The human did not look too fazed by all the burns and blisters, as if they expected it to happen. But when they spoke, they sounded calm and almost caring. “That will not do, I do not want permanent scarring if I can help it. I need to keep your beauty intact.”

They stood up and walked towards the bathroom that connected to the faerie’s main room. They leaned against the wooden door waiting for Faerie. “Well? Come on then.”

Faerie hesitated on the ground. Human would help them? There must be a trick, but they looked back down at their burning wrist and thought anything would be better in that moment than the iron on their skin. They shakily stood up and made their way to the bathroom.

“Once you fully understand that this is where you are meant to stay, Faerie, the iron cuff will no longer be necessary.” Human unlocked the cuff, it fell off their wrist and they put it back in their bag. Faerie almost cried out from relief as the pain suddenly lessened and cool air hit their skin.

Soon after, Faerie heard the sound of rushing water coming from the faucet. Human put their arm under it, they tried to yank their arm away at the sudden cool feeling, but Human’s grip on their arm tightened.

“Shh don’t do that. The water is cooling the burn. It will ease the pain dear Faerie.” Human guided their wrist back under the water which caused them to sharply inhale. However they slowly started to relax, they hated that the human had been right. After a few minutes the pain eased to a low throb.

To prevent drying out the skin, Human turned off the water and took out lotion from their bag. They put a little in their hand and applied it to Faerie’s wrist. Their touch felt so gentle, Faerie found themself relaxing just a bit, letting out a breath they were holding.

Their eyes followed Human’s hand on their burned wrist. “Why..”

“Hm? What is it?” They paused their work, looking up at Faerie and meeting their eyes.

Faerie gulped, trying again. “Why.. why do I have to stay here?” They tensed up again, afraid of Human’s reaction to their question.

Human smiled warmly at them. “The city is too dangerous for you. You were lucky that I was the one that found you first when you wandered into civilization.”

Tears welled up in Faerie’s eyes again, they wished someone else found them. “You could have just taken me back to the forest. Not here.”

Human found sterile gauze bandages in their bag as well. They took care to wrap it loosely around Faerie’s wrist. “Dear, dear, there is no reason to cry. If I took you back to the forest, I could never guarantee your safety. Forests can be dangerous too. Or what if a faerie hunter came after you? I would never forgive myself. You will be better in my hands.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Human said lovingly to the faerie. They ran their hand through their long wavy hair, massaging their scalp.

“Let’s go back out into the main room, I’ll let you rest without the iron cuff on, you look exhausted.”

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cuteangsty · 7 months

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Youkai Temple (pilot)

Based on this post

(so I was working on these characters for a while and I managed to write a little story. I kinda plan on making more, but I'm not sure of everything so I'm calling this s pilot chapter)

Hanzō is nothing. He is nothing. It is nothing. Koji always regarded him as such. Yet something about him... His struggles, his whining and, of course the teary smile that came afterwards... There's something rather captivating about him, almost like a clueless child, he is never thinking about the pain, it seems. Kouji loves that.

Everyday, from the moment Kouji wakes up, he can't stop thinking about his scheduled time with the half-youkai. The few workers at the temple thank and greet him for being brave enough to tame such creature, "if only they new how easy it is to subjugate the lowly creature underneath" he thinks as he makes his way to Hanzō's room, through the tiny hallways sculpted on the soil. The few curious keepers caught walking through such long hallways were immediately stopped by Kouji who warned them about the terrible beast, his warnings made them all too afraid of even reaching the end of the hallway .The door was quite underwhelming, however. A small door made out of many rather thick bamboo planks, making it quite heavy, though, not impossible to open, especially for a youkai. In the middle of the de ladoor, lied a small paper sticker with a prayer written. Definitely not the heavy, think metal door covered with seals that Kouji had told everyone about.

Once Kouji gets there, he is greeted with muffled groans. Eyes and mouth covered with a cloth tied behind the head, the hands were chained together on its back, the left ankle is chained to the wall behind it and the right ankle was twisted in a weird way. The as àeso feared beast kouji had tamed was nothing but a malnutrished boy. It rocked back qnd forth occasionally, probably a calming stim, Kouji thought. There were no tears yet, since all of the still bleeding awounds weren't new, the latest one being 5 teeth cozocppremoved two days ago, 2 from the back left, 1 from the back right and the last 2 on the front. That's what I pullKouji was here to see, the follow ups of the recovery, not that he cared for the youkai's health, his 'care' was more utilitary than anything. He needed him to grow his teeth baqHtck and heal the wounds for his body to be used in the next rituals to come.

Kouji kneeled down reaching the youkai's level and looming over it, with a quick and indelicate move he pulls the bloody rag out of it's mouth and forces it open. It groans loudly, squirming, the cloth blindfolding his eyes wet with new tears of pain. Kouji moves his head around a little checking everything. "Ssshhh it's okay" kouji shushes as he uses one hand to rubs his fingers on the growing teeth and the other to rub the youkai's matted hair. His temperature was warm. Hot even, too hot for someone who lives at a mossy cold basement. It was clear Hanzō had a fever, more over, there was an infection on one tooth in the back, at this point it was probably hallucinating, not that he cared. Youkai usually manage to heal themselves on their own, it only took some time and food and the boy ate yesterday, so this problem was basically solved. The infection didn't seem big, although there's the threat of spreading, it wasn't likely, not concern him nowz not for a youkai.

The more he stroked it's hair the more the boy seemed to calm down under his hand, Hanzō gasps and whimpers with a pained yet genuine smile. "So fucking sick, aren't you?" Kouji mocked holding it by the neck. Such a pleasant view. "You don't even know what's happening, and yet you smile at me...that's why I love you, you know?" he laughs, finishing the examination. "You're fine. The fever must go down once the teeth are fully grown." Kouji throws it back to the floor and ties the cloth back in it's mouth. He gets up and leaves without even glancing back.

Kouji gets back to the temple and starts the preparations announcing the next ritua. His words are simple, but very clear to the keepers, already used to his manger of speaking.

"Soon. We'll have a blood ritual. Just keeping things calm around here."

Soon.

#whumplr #whumpee #mine #whump #whump prompt #whumper #caretaker #ritual whump #ritual #oc #original character #original story #whump story #dragon whumpee #human whumper

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