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#species whump
rabbitdrabbles · 3 months
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[ CW // some blood ]
stomp!
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touched up an old WIP from feb 2023 of these two. still not pleased with the final result but it’ll have to do
(in case you didn’t know, secretary birds kill venomous snakes by repeatedly stomping on their heads :)
(taglist: @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question )
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species-whump-weekly · 6 months
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Welcome to Species Whump Weekly, a new event dedicated to whumping various nonhuman species.
This event is brought to you by Bram and Hart over at @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night & @vivisection-and-vampyrism
Here's masterlist of our events so far.
This event will run Sunday through Saturday every other week. Every other Saturday, we'll post a new species of the week and seven days worth of prompts to go with them.
Each day has multiple prompts, and you can include as many as them as you like. You don't have to do every single day, just what inspires you. This is a very casual event. Play fast and loose with the rules.
Art, writing, and gifsets, are all highly encouraged, along with moodboards, poetry, and other unusual mediums. As long as it fits the prompt, please knock yourself out.
We accept requests for certain species or prompts, and that sort of inspiration should go in our ask box. It's greatly appreciated.
When posting, please tag this blog @species-whump-weekly and use the tag [#species whump weekly] so we can find and reblog your creations.
Divider Source: Here
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riacte · 1 month
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so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it
#ria.txt#i spoiled myself so at first i was like 'this is bonkers wtf are they doing in those last few chapters?????'#but then it was like. yeah. i see#love those ch when it's just clearly putting the squad into Situations#also. izutsumi#what i really liked was how tightly the protagonist and the deuteragonist were wound up in the overall themes#the plot the themes the conflict the characters it was very neatly connected#hence i am also now accidentally invested in whatever going on between laios and marcille#not just platonic not romantic not enemies i just think they work well tgt and deeply care for each other its great watching them develop#it's the leader + most trusted advisor / anxious girlfailure + the annoying freak she's somehow attached to vibes#haha that rabbit chapter with marcille. hahha i was like what the fuck man. it was funny and then boom whump [tears streaming down my face]#those shapeshifter chs were sooo much fun esp seeing other chara's perceptions of each other. stealing that#the changeling ones were great too elf senshi is the fucking funniest he looks sooooooo unserious#marcille's evolving perception with death starting with saving falin and saving the squad and her nightmares of outliving everyone-#-and her dad and her 'temper tantrum' and UGH when at the end she said she was fine with falin not coming back.... WAAA. OUGH.#i think dunmeshi handled the trope of 'prophecy of chosen one becoming king' pretty well and it makes sense why laios is the protag#the worldbuilding is so thoughtful as well i liked seeing different characters with different worldviews interact#very solid and well rounded series wooo#the main 4 has such a fun dynamic together#anyways. dunmeshi au.....#more like borrowing the worldbuilding bc charas are too nuanced for a one to one comparison#ren is like some prince of his own species but he's like 34th in line and no one cares about him so he fucks off to eat monsters#which is why he's both snobbish AND a total freak when it comes to his food taste#false is originally in for the money from ren and plans to scam him but unfortunately the cringefail swag captures her#martyn is Obnoxiously Clueless and thinks he's smart but he's not. he's resourceful but also pathetic and crazy#stress cant cook but she thinks she does so everyone goes (≖_≖ ) when she picks up a pot. they delegate her to killing and chopping duty#the mvp is iskall who keeps on saving everyone's asses and somehow has resources for everyone#i think ren is actually aware false is going to scam him but he has too much money to spend anyway and he thinks shes cool so he lets her??#and somehow she doesnt take the money and run. and goes back to eating monsters w/ the party. everyone is crazy
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special guest for the Menagerie AU
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whump-blog · 2 years
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Prompt 41
Caretaker works rescuing wild creatures from people who trade with exotic species. In one of the rescues, Caretaker ends up taking home one of these creatures, which was the pet of a wealthy family.
Unable to return it to its habitat due to years of abuse and neglect, Caretaker decides to give this "animal" the best possible life in his home. There Caretaker nurses, pets, feeds and plays with the pet as if it were a dog or a cat.
One day, while the creature and Caretaker are playing fetch, Caretaker hears a voice. As soon as he looks in the direction of the sound, he sees that who is speaking is, in fact, the creature. It is asking him if it is ok if it goes to bed, and they continue playing afterwards because it is exhausted. Only then does Caretaker realize that his pet is in fact a sapient being.
(The creature design is under the cut)
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The idea for this prompt was inspired by one of the OCs of the incredible @whumpinthepot
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generic-whumperz · 5 days
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Saw the “trying to start a normal conversation” meme - love those topics as well.
Can you name a cryptid that you think is cool, and how whumpable it is on a scale of 1-10?
First of all, THANK YOU for sending me this, it has made my week! I have been dying to talk about the intersection of whump and cryptids—two of my favorite topics! I am always down to talk about cryptids and paranormal happenings, so if anyone has more questions, toss ‘em my way!
Right off the bat, the most whumpable cryptid that comes to mind is the Fresno Nightcrawler. Look how dumb and soft these things look:
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Screenshots taken from this video
It’s just a weird blob of legs? Not only do they look ridiculous, but you could easily snare one in a bear trap since all they do is walk around like dumb little smooth brained idiots. These things are the equivalent of a sunfish (equally whumpable).
Whumpability score: 10/10
Cool score: 5/10 (they look ethereal but there’s not a whole lot else going on here)
This may be controversial, but an honorable mention of most whumpable cryptid is going to have to go to Skinny Bob:
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Images taken from Google
You’re telling me this dude doesn’t look like someone’s go-to Little Guy™️ they routinely torture or put through precarious situations and have kidnapped for ransom money; or the Youngest™️ who gets taken by Villain™️ and the Whole Team™️ has to work together to save them? Or the recently discovered creature that Evil Scientist™️ captures and performs gruesome experiments on? He’s getting whumped in multiple situations!
Skinny Bob is Whumpee™️ confirmed.
Whumpability score: 6/10 (he’s an alien so you always run the risk of having more of them show up. We also don’t know what he’s storing in that massive dome of his—maybe it’s secrets to the universe, or maybe it’s the mental power to make things explode? Additionally, he was rumored to be in cahoots with the Russian government? Either way, suspicious. And he does have hands and those long ass arms to try to fight you off, but he’s clearly not hitting the weights because those things are pool noodles at best.)
Cool score: 10/10
P.S. I engage with cryptozoology, myths and legends, and paranormal encounters for entertainment purposes only. Is this shit real? I have no idea, and I don’t care. That’s not the point, I’m here for the fun and whimsy. There’s no harm in indulging in the unknown. I’m not here to convince or attest to the legitimacy of these creatures. It’s not that serious, so please don’t come after me!
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secret-bug-pain-blog · 5 months
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[THURSDAY]
Buried Alive - Outlived Family - "Not growing old was fun at first, but then everyone around me started dying."
Hi! Hello! We're here, Late To The Event. Technically, we have plans for all these days! We only remembered this event was ongoing halfway through the week, and by then... well, you know how it is. Technically, this isn't fully compliant with the prompt, but it's close enough that we figure it counts, since outliving his entire family was actually slightly less impactful than outliving his husband for our boy.
Fic below the cut, and @species-whump-weekly we sincerely hope this isn't too late to count.
You have been asleep for long enough that you aren't even sure if he'll still be alive.
His swarm finds you before you find them.
Marina gasps when she sees you. She's years older, now - wings worn at the edges, shell thin and flimsy, aged far beyond the young butterfly you saw her as last.
She looks older than you ever have been. She looks older than you suspect you ever will be.
Her father, your friend – your paramour, your years-long companion – isn’t with her. You fear, for a moment, you’ve stumbled upon them too late. You nearly cringe away from the migration them and there, fearful of discovering yet another thing that’s slipped away while you hibernated.
But you don’t have the heart to walk away.
He’s been waiting for you.
He is old, and frail, and dying. You can taste the creeping end in his veins from the moment you step foot into the tent. His shell is pitted with age, now, cracked and chinked in places, brittle enough that you fear taking his hand will hurt him. Time has weathered him, his wings transparent and paper-thin around him, and you… you stay the same, looking just as young as the day you first met him on the stolen life of those who unearthed your grave.
“I knew you’d come back,” he tells you. “You wouldn’t die that easily.”
You hold his frail, trembling claw in both of yours. You aren’t sure how he can say that so confidently. He has always had more faith in you than you have in yourself.
He invites you to drain him.
You hesitate, at first. Every instinct you have picked up over your long, long life is screaming for you to run. To survive, to keep your secret- he knows, and it's against everything you've ever learned to remain, to let him speak, to not preserve your life-
He knows. But maybe he's known for a long, long time.
You take his offer. You take his life.
You know what it is that killed him the moment you bite. The magic of the wastes, the low hum that seeps into your bones, the constant background noise that sometimes threatens to tear you apart - it gathers within him, down to the deepest parts of his shell. There are lumps of flesh in his heart, his lungs, full of the same mind-jarring, skull-shattering buzz.
He has the wasteland sickness.
You think that, perhaps, he has had the wasteland sickness for a long time.
You drain him until he is dry, until every last flicker of the wasteland sickness is gone from his body, until he is stiff and his flesh holds the texture of jerky, and you let your fangs linger on his shrivelled veins until you can't bear to remain anymore.
You are sick, the next day.
And the day after that, and the day after that.
The buzz is in your bones, now - too close, too loud, rattling through your shell like a twisted beast. You have the wasteland sickness, stolen from his dying body, and it is trying to take you the way it took him.
You do not die.
You don't know if it's a blessing or a curse, anymore.
It is energy. It is vitality, the buzzing, throbbing pulse beyond the heart of a beast on a scale you cannot comprehend.
It is life force, and you can stomach it just the same.
A week passes. Two weeks. The symptoms slow, as you digest it. It becomes your life, your energy, it bends to keep you alive, it becomes you, while you lie weak and dizzy and throwing up blood.
It becomes you. You become it, in turn.
It is the last pulse of your husband, and you refuse to waste it.
You stumble out of the tent two weeks later, exhausted and bearing injuries you cannot see with your naked eyes. You are tired, and hurt, and you have burnt through most of the life you had, but you are alive.
His body is still waiting for you.
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mightaswell-whump · 5 months
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Sunday: Holy messenger and unholy recipient
New ocs to add to the fantasy world
For Angel week by @species-whump-weekly
Warnings: Ownership/dehumanization (including "it" used to dehumanize), extremity amputation and subsequent dissociation (he. gets his fingers cut off and his mind shuts down about it for a while), ask if anything else needs warned against
Angel whumper, demon/hellhound whumpee
"You are to be mine," Peniel hissed with an odd sweetness, "and mine alone. You will bow to no one else. Got that?"
The angel's prisoner bared its sharp teeth and growled as it tried to make itself bigger. Peniel grabbed the creature's neck with a divine grip and watched as the power surged from her hand through its skin and to the bone.
The pain shot through his whole body, holy, radiant fire coursing through his demonic veins. The unrighteous one screeched for their mercy, to release their grasp. His perverse form ached from the inside out. When she finally let go, his entire, unrighteous body, collapsed as his flesh became numb.
"Would you like me to repeat myself, dearie?"
The fiend spat at her, a last act of defiance. She simply spat in her hand and placed it on the impure one's shoulder. It stung and burned and bubbled, like a brand on a cow's flank, and left her perfect handprint as she pulled away.
Angel saliva had a tendency to corrode a hellhound's skin, so no matter what, no matter how much time it took to heal, he would forever bear her mark. Her symbol. A reminder he was no longer his own.
"Alright," Peniel sang, "get up, Dog-tooth. I'm not finished with you yet."
She hooked a collar around the beast's neck, stroking its wolfish ears as the fastener clicked. One hand swirled its thumb into the joint between ear and scalp, whilst the other yanked on the collar, pulling the unholy one closer. Another long strap of leather was hooked to the one around his neck, a leash, which Peniel tugged at with such divine strength, Dog-tooth was quickly compelled to follow along on his hands and knees.
The way the rocks and sand dug into his knees and shins, scraping and scratching and sticking into the flesh, was humiliating and agonizing. No hellhound was meant to walk like this, outside of their doggish form. With a body that could pass for a human - minus ears and tail - Dog-tooth found himself degraded, at the whims of an angel. With the strength and speed he was dragged along at, though, he could not right himself to a less demeaning posture. Peniel knew this; he knew they knew this. It was all part of their game.
Thrown into a wall, Dog-tooth tried to pull himself up, but was quickly shoved back down again before the angel picked up a flat, heavy, slightly-sharp stone.
"As my guard dog," she explained, "you will need to learn not to use your weapons against me. So, as a precaution, I'm taking them away." She grabbed his hand, setting it on the ground in front of her.
His eyes widened, already catching on to what she was doing. Her firm grip held on despite him struggling to pull away. She raised the rock abover her head, and he yelped before he even felt the blow.
What felt like an eternity later, Dog-tooth's head started to clear of that distant, foggy feeling as his consciousness started to slip back into his body. His left hand seemed to have already been bandaged, with the fingers - or what was left of them - curled inwards. The right hand was still in the angel's grip, though one a bit gentler. She licked away the blood, her divine power both burning and sealing the wound shut, before bandaging the hand in the same manner as the other. Once out of her grip, he slowly brought the deformed limb to his face. His claws, the only thing left of his life before, gone. He brushed the exposed knuckles against the hand-shaped scar, just to see what the skin felt like.
The skin contoured inward, toward his collarbone. It was only a short while into the healing process, but it already felt like the same leather that tied him to his attacker. And, in a weird way, they meant the same thing.
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thethistlegirlwrites · 5 months
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No Killer - Teaser for Compass
For the first day of @species-whump-weekly, y'all get a teaser from the current draft of Compass!
For anyone unfamiliar with my OCs and the plot of this story, check out its masterpost here!
“I could help you, if you’d take the cuffs off.” Barrett holds out his bound hands. 
“Yeah, my day would really be improved by being strangled into unconsciousness and then getting my blood sucked like a juicebox.” 
“Look. If I wanted to hurt you, I could pick up one of these rocks and break your skull right now. I was just offering.” 
He has a point.
“Why would you help someone who’s taking you to a death sentence?”
“Because no one deserves to die like that.”
That doesn’t sound like something a stone-cold killer would say.
“You could just run.”
“Where would I go? It’s broad daylight, your car isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and who in their right mind would pick up a hitchhiker who looks like me?”
This is the kind of conversation Sierra would expect to have with Pete, not Barrett. It does give her a moment’s pause that he thought through all those angles. Guess it’s not like he had much else to do back there but listen to me and Pete. She’d honestly probably have done the same. “You’re being weirdly logical.”
“I’m not brain-dead.” He shrugs. “With one good arm, digging him out will take you hours. I just figured he has a better chance if I help.” 
Sierra sighs, slumping defeatedly against the wall. “Tell me why I should give you a chance to try anything, when you murdered two people and nearly drained eight more.”
“I didn’t kill anyone.” His voice sounds shaky. “I didn’t…those people…that wasn’t me. When I was still human.” He looks down at his hands. “After I turned, that’s on me. I know I messed up. I know I hurt them, and I couldn’t make it stop. But I didn’t kill that woman and her daughter.”
“Everyone who gets caught says they’re innocent.” But there isn’t as much conviction in her voice as she wants there to be. 
“They were dead when I got there. Look. I might have been a junkie and a thief, but I was no killer. I swear. All I did was break into the place looking for some cash or some shit I could fence. And they were just…there. I’d seen a lot of messed up things, hanging around with dealers and all, but nothing like that. It freaked me out. I didn’t know what to do, so I just froze. And then ran like hell.”
“You panicked and left without taking anything, but left behind enough evidence to get yourself accused of the murders?” Sierra can’t believe he’s said this much. But he’s also had almost a week to fabricate a convincing story. He’s telling me all this for a reason. He didn’t just suddenly start opening up on a whim.
He shakes his head. “A neighbor’s security cameras caught me.”
“And no one ever looked to see if they caught anyone else?”
“You think I called the LAPD to ask hey, did you by chance look at those videos again?”
“Okay, back off the sarcasm, huh?”
“Want to take these cuffs off so I can get to work? We’re wasting time.” He nods to the still slowly shifting rock heap. “What are you afraid of? What happens if I’m wrong? Or what happens if I’m right?”
The three feet between them feels like an uncrossable rift. Like they’re shouting back and forth over some chasm dividing them into different universes. There is no way he can ever cross back over to her side. And joining him, for Sierra, would be a literal fate worse than death. 
But she needs to make a choice. Trust him, or trust herself.
And she hasn’t exactly been doing so great with her own instincts lately. 
She almost got Pete killed at Motel California, leaving him in that office by himself. She got a second chance at getting it right. And she can’t blow it.
“Okay.” She reaches into her pocket for the key and unlocks the cuffs. His wrists below them look raw and chafed. She feels just a little bit sorry for the way she’s been treating him. He was never tried for the murders, no one had the chance to find out whether he was responsible or not, but she was still treating him as guilty until proven innocent. 
“You know it’s daylight. You won’t have your vamp strength.”
“We’ll worry about that if we have to.” He picks up the rock Sierra was struggling with and tosses it at least four feet away as if it weighs nothing.
“What were you shooting up, steroids?”
He shakes his head. “After I got bit, I worked third shift manual labor. I felt better at night, didn’t know why at the time, but those were the only jobs I could hold down for long. Mostly on the docks moving cargo, or night construction.” 
“Oh.”
“After a while, I got into some underground fights, when I started feeling like ripping someone’s head off at work because they looked at me the wrong way. Thought maybe if I found a constructive outlet for feeling that way, I’d get better.”
“Underground street fights are constructive. That’s a new one.”
“I was bloodthirsty. Literally. I was just trying to find some place where that didn’t make me a freak.” He turns to look at her. “Those bites don’t just poison your body. It gets into your head, trying to turn you into a monster from the inside out.”
Sierra knows the biology of vampire venom. But there’s very few studies on its mental effects. Hunters get bitten without turning, disturbingly often. But the vampire responsible is usually staked within days if not hours, which renders the venom inert. There’s only a few hunters living with the long-term consequences. Sierra’s met one of them, a hunter from San Francisco who taught a crash course in working with shifter fae. Amy Sherwin had been a strange sort of contradiction, a twiggy, petite woman with pale skin and a grip like iron, dark eyes burning above shadowy smudged circles. 
If Barrett had been like that…he would have added a physically intimidating physique to the intensity and controlled fury Sherwin had given off.
“You can’t tell me you don’t get it,” he continues, tossing a few more rocks aside before stepping back and studying the shrinking heap. “No one gets a job like yours without needing an outlet for something burning them up from the inside.”
She can’t exactly argue with him, and she doesn’t want to get into that. 
“I can take it from here.” She doesn’t want Barrett around Pete if he’s bleeding. He’s sun-weakened and probably exhausted himself further moving all these rocks. He might not be able to stop himself from trying to feed. She holds out the cuffs.
“Really?”
“Look. You’ve told me a pretty convincing story, but I can’t afford to just take you at your word. It’s not just about me. I have to worry about Pete too, and if you’re lying just to make me stop watching you every second, both of us could die. Or worse, get turned.”
She doesn’t miss the slight flinch. Right, that was insensitive. But she doesn’t really care. Nothing about his story has really made him like her any better. Why hasn’t he told anyone else this? Does he know who the killer that night really was? Is he protecting them by taking the fall? If he thinks any of this is going to make them friends, he’s wrong. They’re not even reluctant allies. They’re just…not currently trying to kill each other, in the interests of saving Pete.
She reaches for another rock and winces.
“Just don’t,” Barrett says. “I’ve got this. I’ll tell you if I don’t. I’ll find him.”
@nade2308 @catwingsathena @telltaleclerk @the-one-and-only-valkyrie
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rabbitdrabbles · 1 year
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new whump OCs— a secretary bird and a puff adder
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the animal kingdom has such immense potential for whump inspiration, let me tell you…
I haven’t figured out a story for them yet, if there will be any, but I think I will definitely keep these guys around <3 any suggestions on what to do with them are very welcome!
(initial / non-simplified character designs below:)
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species-whump-weekly · 5 months
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Angel Week
Creatures from Judaic religion, also used in Islamic and Christian belief systems. Originally the messengers of God with no freewill of their own, but later changed by Christians to be capable of independent thought and even falling from grace due to sin and rebellion.
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Sunday: Sin - Holy Messanger and Unholy Recipient - "What's a birdie like you doing down here? Are you lost?"
Monday: Blinding Light - Botched Blessing - "I come in the name of God. Please don't resist. It'll only be worse for you."
Tuesday: Wing Clipping - Demonic Posession - "Do not be afraid."
Wednesday: Divine Punishment - Stranded - "Please forgive me. Something as beautiful as you can't possibly be this cruel.
Thursday: Hellfire - Eternal Separation - "Do angels bleed? I bet it looks real pretty like."
Friday: Feather Plucking - Abandoned by God - "Let us rejoice in the name of our Lord. For he is eternal and we will serve Him until the stars go out."
Saturday: Eye Gouging - Stripped of Freewill - "It was a mistake. That's all. Please don't hurt me."
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Have fun ♡♡♡
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actress4him · 7 months
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Whumptober 2023 - Day 6 - The Shadow of Death
This is pre-Bruno, more like a short, angsty character study than any actual plot. It's also the first of a few pieces where I took inspiration from a different line in the song than the prompt line.
Taglist: @painful-pooch
Masterlist
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No. 6: “Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me.”
Contains: referenced parental death, referenced murder, self-deprecating thoughts, referenced noncon touch
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She feels her sometimes, like she’s looking over her shoulder, or gazing down from somewhere above her. 
Often when she’s picking herbs, the ones she taught her as a healer in their village. It feels like a reminder. “Atkraito vemesde, Kamaria. See how these two look alike.”
Occasionally she’ll be there, in her mind, as she lies awake in her tent at night. Like an embrace, or a brush of a hand across her forehead. It makes her think of the times she was ill, and she would lie next to her and check her fever, kissing her forehead and tucking her curls behind her ears. 
But sometimes, she feels her presence when she doesn’t want to at all. When she’s being punished, when Roderick has his hands on her, or worse of all, when she’s creeping into the tent of some Kedosan officer, ready to take their life. 
All she feels then is shame. 
It’s hard for her to envision her mother’s face anymore. It’s been too long. But somehow, she can still picture the shock, the disgust that would paint her expression if she saw her daughter like this. Surely she would loathe the thing that she has become. Surely she would turn her back. Her mother was a pure, gentle soul, as peaceful as the rest of the Vaya. If she saw what Kamaria has let herself turn into, she can’t imagine that she’d want to have anything to do with her anymore.
If her mother hadn’t died, then she never would have had to become The Shadow of Death. She does it for her, to avenge her death and the deaths of all the other Vaya, in her village and others. 
But as much as she misses her, she’s glad she can’t see her now.
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Vaya translation -
Atkraito vemesde = pay attention
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thegirlwholived1213 · 9 months
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could you please write about a leader that surrenders to save their friends and the enemy is suprised because they didn’t think they would actually do it? Thank you
Okay, I am officially alive!!!
With summer out and trips to take, I have been extremely busy. I’ve been off the computer and focusing on my book that I am writing, called Golden Ashes! I didn’t know what to do with this ask, but I love the idea soooooo I am going to use my characters for Golden Ashes! However, this doesn’t play into the actual story, but I thought I would use them because I’m getting the hang of their individuality. If you want to see some sneak peeks or info on these characters, let me know in the comments, but I am planning on publishing my book eventually via KDP! For now, enjoy! 
(Character run down! Elora is the main protagonist, Dayne the main antagonist. Aidan is Elora’s mentor, and Nori is her dearest friend and father figure. Cardan is Elora’s childhood friend/tentative love interest, and Tyler is Dayne’s right hand man.)
Surrender
Content warnings: Intimate whumper, minor violence, non-con kiss (It's on the nose) manhandling, sedation
Elora’s eyes whipped around the cave as she held the smartphone closer to her ear. Soft static buzzed in the background, but other than that she couldn’t hear anything. She knew she shouldn’t have answered the call, but the message would have been delivered regardless. So, while her friends slept by the dying fire, she had climbed the hill and pulled herself into this alcove. 
“Hello?” She whispered, knowing her voice might waver if she didn’t, “Who is this?” 
“You know full well who it is, Miss Eagle.” 
This was true. Nobody else would have called the phone in the middle of the mountains. She knew there was no service, but Dayne wouldn’t be held back by something so simple. Elora took a deep, silent breath, and released it. 
“What do you want?” 
Dayne’s smooth laughter made shudders run up and down her spine as it filled the line. Her mouth opened and closed, and yet she couldn’t fill her breath with words. Her Golden Eagle feathered wings sagged, suddenly feeling all too heavy.
“Now isn’t the time for silly questions, darling,” He cooed, voice thick and suave. Bile caught in her throat, but she forced herself to respond.
Heaven knows what would happen if she didn’t.
“Yes, I’m well aware. I’m assuming you have us– them, surrounded?” 
“You’re catching on. You know what you need to do.” 
Elora opened her mouth again, but the line clicked silent. 
She couldn’t stop the tears once they began to fall. Thick, wet streams that made her voice catch and chest stutter. How could she go through with this? The last person to escape him would be her. 
But she loved them too much not to. So she let herself cry. She let herself mourn what was to come. Memories flooded her mind, and it made the tears slow.
When she met Nori in that cafe.
The first time she realized that Cardan loved her.
When she’d kissed him, and for the first time she’d felt truly free. 
Aidan teaching her how to shoot her beloved bow, how to send a punch, and how to talk to her people. 
Elora pulled herself together. She took deep breaths, focusing on calming her nerves. 
In, out. In, out, in, out. 
She took each motion by itself, focusing on simply completing the task. Standing up. Wiping her face. Walking to the edge of the cave. She exited, extended, and jumped for one last fly. She knew that once she touched ground and returned to camp, her friends would be in Grounder clutches, and she would be there to greet them. 
Elora landed yards away from camp. She fixed her blonde hair that had fallen in front of her face. She could see one of the Grounders approaching, but didn’t run. She held still, and simply waited as her stomach tied itself in knots. 
“Hello, princess.” 
“Tyler.” She growled, neck stiffening as his breath tickled the shell of her ear. 
“I knew you’d recognize me.” He purred, hand sliding around her waist. Elora gritted her teeth and turned to raise her arm but Tyler grabbed her wrist, silver eyes shining in the moonlight. His grip tightened and turned, twisting her towards him and making her hiss. His face was only inches from hers, eyes dragging across her features. 
“Ah, now we can’t have that, Your highness… we wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt.” He sneered, and planted a gentle kiss on her nose.
“You are disgusting.” She snarled, and shoved away when his grip loosened. She didn’t need instruction before she started walking towards camp. Tyler followed close behind, his smoky wings leaving a trail as he walked behind her with a hand at the base of her own feathered ones. They walked to the clearing that her team had claimed as camp, and she had to stifle her gasp. 
Aidan and Nori were both restrained by two Grounders each. Elora didn’t recognize any of them, but their grips only tightened when her friends went still at the sight of her.
“Elora, no!” Nori grunted, breathless and brow sprinkled with sweat. His hazelnut eyes bore into hers with a heartbreaking sorrow, as if he already knew she had to go. That she had no choice. 
But she would always but him first, put Cardan and Aidan and her people first. As long as they were safe. 
Cardan was on the other side of the clearing, down on his knees. A lady Grounder was on top of him, knee digging into his spine as she held his arm at an unnatural angle above his head. She was down close to his ear, and it made her blood boil. 
“Welcome, Welcome, Miss Eagle!” Dayne drawled over the crowd. He stood directly in front of her, across the clearing that was seeming shorter and shorter the longer she stood there. She could never be far enough away from him. He began to stroll towards Cardan, eyes practically glowing with glee. He bend at the waist when he reached him, grabbing his blonde hair with slender fingers. Cardan didn’t exclaim as Dayne pulled his head up to look into his eyes, and his smile widened as he let his head drop back down. 
“I’m so glad you could join us, Princess. I was going to have some fun, but it seems you arrived just in time.” He sneered, and instead walked towards her. She stood her ground, not flinching when he took her face in a bruising hand. He scanned her face, but his gaze was much colder than Tyler’s. While Tyler made her sick to her stomach, Dayne brought a chilling fear that she couldn’t shake. 
She let him slide a pair of electric cuffs over her wrists, and Tyler released her as he attached a thin silver chain. He yanked the chain forward, and sent Elora sprawling. 
“No! Elora- mph!” Aidan shoved against those who held him, receiving only a knee to the gut in return. Elora spat dirt, the grit making her grimace. 
“Now let them go.” She growled, standing back up with the help of Tyler at her elbow. She turned to Nori and Aidan, followed by Cardan, when her left wrist cuff pricked her inner arm. She gasped, and turned on Dayne. 
“You told me you’d release them, now do it.” 
“Oh Princess,” Dayne chuckled, that same laugh sending chills down her spine, “You must learn not to believe everything you hear.” 
Elora pulled hard against the chain and it slid from Dayne’s hands. Tyler reached out to grab her, but she dodged away and ran to Cardan. She easily knocked the girl off her, and he raced to Aidan and Nori. Elora tried to follow, but Tyler was already on top of her. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder, beginning to run with Dayne back the way they had come. She shrieked and wailed on Tyler from the back and front, flapping her wings, but his grip was strong as iron. 
“You promised!” She screamed, though she felt her energy draining, “You said you would release them!” 
She wasn’t granted a response as cotton filled her ears. Her fighting slowed and eventually fell to nothing. Dark rings and spots covered her vision, and her limbs stopped responding. Tyler vibrated under her, but she couldn’t tell if he was laughing or speaking. She was fading away, and soon her head fell against Tyler’s strong back. Her eyes closed, and she fell down into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.
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toothbrushfingers · 1 year
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Lureabies: Chapter One
Not really sure if this counts as fluff or whump but you
get the jist
Note: I don’t have an account on ao3 (might make one in the future idk) so i have to post the whole thing her
Takes place shortly after httyd 2
Characters: Snotlout Jorgenson, Åse Haddock (oc)
Summary: Snotlout and Åse are chased by dragon trappers into an unfamiliar part of the woods, when suddenly they find they can no longer keep themselves awake. / Mild Spoiler v
Lureaby dragons (original species) lure them in and poison them
Sorry any mistakes, enjoy :)
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They’re surrounded. This was just supposed to be a scouting mission, but they were spotted by trappers. There were maybe 40.. 50 of them, and it was only Åse and Snotlout. The others sat on the other, far side of the island waiting for them to return, and it wasn’t a very small island by any means.
A few moons past, Hiccup had heard word of a large band of dragon trappers left over from Draco’s fleet, camping out on this island; trapping dragons and selling them to various buyers for various reasons at various prices. He’d sent Snotlout and Åse to scout them out to be sure the rumors were true. If they were, they’d deal with them. And as Åse and Snotlout soon found, they were indeed true.
The hunters made chase, but never once fired one of their many cross bows at the two vikings. Only holding them at the ready. But seeing as they were severely outnumbered, the two ran for it. Goldwing and Hookfang had been hovering above the trees a few yards behind them, out of sight prior. The Berkians had originally planned on hopping on their dragons and taking off, but that was now out of the question. The dragons couldn’t get to them through the thick forest canopy and anytime they tried to even get close, the trappers would fire what seemed to be dragon root arrows. Lovely. And if either dragon fired? More arrows. They had to stay out of arrow range, but that also meant out of blasting range.
They were surrounded at every side but front, so run they did. It was almost as if the trappers were herding them somewhere, but they didn’t have time to worry about that now.
Soon they came to a bramble, and assuming the trappers wouldn’t follow them in, they dove in head first, crawling towards safety. Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Snotlout would know, he’s fallen into plenty of unforgiving bushes. And they were right, those trappers turned on their heels in defeat and retreated. After a few seconds of dragging themselves along the dirt, they found themselves in a bit of an odd clearing. Large trees stood around them, blocking them in at all sides, only allowing small bits of golden sun reaching in the kiss their leaves. They’d definitely never been here before.
“Can you uh.. see.. a way out?” Åse spoke, winded. She realized they hadn’t spoken that entire time, only using some hand signals to communicate. “Uhhhh,” Snotlout looked around as he hunched over, hands on his knees, lungs begging for more air than they could take in, “yeah- Yeah! Over there..!” He pointed with an exhausted enthusiasm to a small clearing between trees. It was reminiscent of a path, thought the ground not worn.
The two trudge forward at the same pace, calling for their dragons. But neither came. They couldn’t help but worry for them and hope they’d just gone for help. Surely the trappers couldn’t have gotten them.. Right..?
They followed that path for what seemed like years, making note of the glowing sun fading in and out between sweet smelling branches.
The two walked in silence now, hand in hand, equally exhausted, when Åse suddenly stopped, seemingly frozen in place. Snotlout turned see her, confused. “Are you ok?” “Shh shh! Do you hear that?” she held a finger in the air and looked around silently. “Alright, I think you’re a little more tired than you thought cause-“ She cut him off by waving her hands around him and quickly pressing a stiff finger to her lips. Snotlout, concerned and confused, looked around. It had been maybe 10 seconds when he started to try and speak again, quickly cutting himself off as he heard a soft humming sound.
He turned to her, eyes wide and brows knit tightly together. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he couldn’t quite find any sound in his throat. All he could do was follow the noise, intrigued.
“Wha- Lout! Where are.. you.. going..?” Åse found herself becoming just as curious as he was, taking his hand once more and following his lead further on into the trees. The humming continued, growing louder with each step they took.
After a bit of walking, they found themselves in a small field of grass and flowers, surrounded by more trees and every side. The trees were dark and shrouded; usually either of them would be frightened, but oddly enough they each felt strangely calm.
Åse spun on her heels, glancing around. “Whoa,” Snotlout began, “Ah! What the-“ “Hm?” Åse turned to see Snotlout waving lethargic hands around his head. “Bugs?” She asked, having no energy to say much more. “No.. something… something sprayed.. me..” Snotlout’s movements became more and more sloppy as he clumsily made his way to Åse., booted feet not wanting to cooperate.
Noticing, she met him half way, catching him as he fell forward. He mumbled nonsense to himself, eyes dancing around his head like a baby seeing color for the first time. “Lout? Hey! Hey look at me,” She snapped fingers in his face, watching him hardly react, becoming increasingly more worried, “Lout what’s going on? Talk to m-“ Åse was cut off by a strong mist hitting her in the face from seemingly nowhere.
After a moment, Åse was beginning to understand what was happening to Snotlout. She suddenly felt 1000 times more exhausted than she had before, eyes begging to shut. All the colors around her became more vibrant, spinning round and round with her head. She should’ve been scared, but she could only feel joy. Pure euphoria. Her brain was full of thick, unforgiving fog. It blocked out most coherent thoughts until she could no longer hold herself up. She settled in near Snotlout, who at some point had lost his helmet ‘When did that happen?’. Heads together, feet pointing in opposite directions.
Snotlout looked up to her, grinning a giddy-ish grin, before raising an arm lazily to play with her auburn hair. He giggled in a sense, before lazily mumbling loving nonsense. His words were unclear, but Åse knew what he meant. She grinned, raised an arm to cup his face. After a moment, his eyes slid closed, and his arm dropped. Before Åse could even try to be alarmed, her body gave in and she succumbed to the comforting darkness that had been begging her to be let in.
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Hope you enjoyed chapter one, hopefully chapter two’ll be up tomorrow but no promises 😉
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redd956 · 2 years
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Whumpy Fantasy Species Traits
Whumpy worldbuilding traits that I’ve used in my writing and worldbuilding. Feel free to use these or gain inspiration from them!
- Butterfly/Fairy wings not being able to fly in the rain, getting weighed down by water
-Magic strain turning someone’s hair white, skin pale, and eye hue lighter
-Turning into pure white frail statues upon death; starting to lose pigment during fatal injuries or sickness
-Over the top uncontrollable frost aura. One touch from them, and frost scatters across the unprepared skin
-Requiring hibernation
-Emotion based camouflage (like a chameleon)
-Feathery wings molting due to anxiety
-A larger hunger and caloric need
-Hair that is made of fire, revealing its natural color and losing its flaming property when wet
-Plantfolk wilting with stress, and losing color with strain.
-Eyes that are all too sensitive to the light; likely for nocturnal, underground, or deep ocean creatures
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gummy-bwear · 2 years
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Whump prompt no. 1
Whumpee being captured by a Vampire Whumper, who uses them as a blood bag and treats them like dirt for a long time. Then once they’re broken, Whumper is bored and gets a new blood bag to break, abandoning Whumpee.
But as a final send off, Whumper infects Whumpee with the vampire curse, then leaves them alone to fend for themselves in the wilderness.
With no one to guide them and no knowledge of how to be a vampire, Whumpee succumbs to their hunger and vampire instincts helplessly until either someone helps them, or they go feral (all while still being broken and having emotional baggage and trauma from Whumper’s treatment).
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