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shinishinigummy · 2 years

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Masterpost for Whumptober 2021!

Originally, I wanted to do a challenge so I can practice writing fiction again. It's insane how months of being busy and being depressed have led me to forget how much I loved writing stories. In fact, looking at my tumblr, I realized that I had stopped posting 2015.

I want to change that. So anyway, Whumptober happened. I want to thank my good friend @Coffee for introducing me to the prompt list.

I don't really know how masterposts go as this is my first one, but I'll just add a link to all of the days I posted.

31 DAYS OF WHUMPTOBER

Color Codes:

Violet - Pandora's Box (OC) series

Red - D&D OC fics

Blue - Fic for specific fandoms

Green - Standalone OC fics

Day 1: All Trussed Up and Nowhere to Go ["You have to let go" | bound] TW for violence, blood, and torture. The first in the Pandora's Box series!

Day 2: Talking is Overrated (Hades) [Choking] TW for violence and blood, and slight torture. A Hades fic featuring our lovely Elysium lads!

Day 3: Sticks and Stones may Break my Bones but... (Genshin Impact) [taunting | insults | "Who did this to you?"] Featuring my best boyes Razor and Bennet. Not really a ship fic.

Day 4: Trust Fall [“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed] Some little wlw action because of brainrot.

Day 5: I've Got Red in my Ledger [betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose] TW for blood and violence. The father encounters some trouble.

Day 6: Touch and Go [bruises | touch starved | hunger] NSFW for some descriptions, and TW for blood. Featuring my dhampir warlock OC Anitta Strangelove~

Day 7: My Spidey-Sense is Tingling [helplessness | numbness] CW for sleep paralysis. An attempt at a creepypasta.

Day 8: Coughing up a Lung [pneumothorax] CW for death. I had to research pneumothorax before this.

Day 9: Rumors of my Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated [presumed dead | (blind) rage | tears] TW for slight torture, blood, and violence, featuring my friend's D&D OC! I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO POST THIS ON THE DAY I HAD TO POST IT BUT ANYWAY...

Day 10: Oops, I Did it Again (Persona 5) [flare-up | ice chips] Short p5 speculative fic featuring one of my favorite ships! Pegoryu AAAAA

Day 11: Just Keep Swimming [adrift | drowning | dehydration] More pandora's box. Also referencing Kate Bush's song "And Dream of Sheep"!

Day 12: It'll be Fun, They Said (The Sandman) [torture | made to watch | begging] NSFW for explicit scenes and BDSM. TW for (implied) gore and blood. A fic featuring my Corinthian brainrot

Day 13: That's Gonna Leave a Mark (Arknights) [“This is gonna suck” | burns | cauterization] Featuring an OC operator, and Skyfire.

Day 14: Under Pressure [crush injuries | beaten | force] CW for bodily harm. TW for graphic depictions of violence. Featuring my half-elf bard D&D character Oxyll Orobyn!

Day 15: Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever (The Sandman) [delirium | fever dreams | bees] An OC meets Delirium.

Day 16: On a Need to Know Basis [recovery | scars | aftermath] TW for substance abuse. Featuring my OC high elf monk!

Day 17: Field Care 101 [“Please don’t move!” | hemorrhage | dread] Wartime. Featuring my OC Spotty in a war AU!

Day 18: The Doctor is In [“Now smile for the camera” | doctor’s visit] CW for scary descriptions of monsters. Another attempt at a creepypasta!

Day 19: Just a Scratch [bleeding | stabbing] TW for graphic depictions of violence. Featuring my good friend's D&D OC!

Day 20: Lost & Found [trapped under water | solitary confinement] The origin of Pandora..?

Day 21: That's Where the Blood's Supposed to Be [bleeding through the bandages | pressure | blood-matted hair] More of my OC Spotty in a wartime AU. She makes a friend..?

Day 22: They Made Me Do It [cursed | demon | obsession] TW for madness and depictions of drowning. A prequel to pandora's owner.

Day 23: You Break It, You Buy It (Persona 5) [auction | pursuit] A short AU side-story-ish fic featuring the phantom thieves!

Day 24: One Down Two to Go [self-induced injuries to escape | flashback | revenge] TW for graphic depictions of violence, specifically breaking bones. Featuring my girl Anitta!

Day 25: Hide & Seek (Poppy Playtime) [escape | flight | hiding]

Day 26: You Will Go Down With This Ship [fallen | waterfall]

Day 27: I'm Fine. I Prom... [passing out | vertigo | collapse] CW for poisoning/poison gas. Featuring my OC Priscilla in a highschool prom AU

Day 28: It's Not Just in Your Head [“Good. You’re finally awake.” | nightmares | panic] TW for violence and death (massacre). Featuring the backstory of my wood elf druid Vasilisa Morozova and my friend's human artificer Alvard Fenriksen!

Day 29: All Work and No Play [“You’re still not dead?” | too weak to move | overworked] TW for exorcism and torture. The last in the Pandora's box series.

Day 30: Digging Your Grave [major character death | left for dead | ghosts] Featuring my OC Human Hexblade Warlock Priscilla. An epilogue I should have written ages ago.

Day 31: Hurt & Comfort [disaster zone | trauma | prisoner] The final entry in Spotty's adventures in a wartime AU.

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shinishinigummy · 2 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 9

RUMORS OF MY DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY EXAGGERATED

presumed dead | (blind) rage | tears

Summary: Nescryn's brother had been captured. She runs, lost and alone in the woods. But this will not stop her from her mission.

OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I MISSED A POST ASLKDJASLKDJA I PROMISE I WROTE THIS ON THE SAME DAY I JUST FORGOT TO POST IT!!!! WTF!!!

ANYWAY

Note: This is a fanfic featuring my good friend @SamulsonsHeir character, a high elf artificer Nescryn Samulson. She's a character in @masterjad's homebrew D&D campaign, The Valtherian Chronicles!

The woods were getting thinner and the moon was rising before Nescryn could ascertain her surroundings. She was running away with nothing more than her equipment and her life and she ran and ran until she heard no more of the soldiers' footfalls. She did not stop until the soles of her feet were worn out. She continued running until she lost her breath and let herself and her bag fall to the forest floor, cupping her mouth with both hands as she screamed, muted, and let the tears flow freely from her.

She knows the woods like the back of her hand, yet she finds herself getting lost in her haze of frantic, confused thoughts.

How did the empire know we were there where is my brother is he dead? Should I go back and check? what waits for me in Glendale my footsteps are too noisy I don't have enough bolts to fend off a squadron of soldiers Can somebody HELP ME

Even birdsong and the crunching of leaves in the undergrowth wasn't enough to cover Nescryn's ever-pacing mind. It was unbecoming of someone like her to have her concentration willed away like wisps on cold winter winds. It would even be more unbecoming if she died from the very thing her brother risked his life for.

She stood up slowly and tilted her head to the side as an arrow whizzed past her left side. She drew her crossbow and fired in the direction of the arrow. Moments later she heard a muted thump and a grunt as something heavy hit the floor.

Rushing to the source of the noise, she sees a soldier sprawled on the ground, pierced through the chest by her armor-breaking arrow. The blood was pouring out of the open wound. As he heard her footsteps, he tried getting to his feet. Nescryn, without a word, kicks the soldier’s crossbow out of reach. She raises him by his collar. She pinned him to a nearby tree with another one of her arrows, screaming in pain as she concentrated on breaking his left shoulder in the process. With a sickening crunch the arrow connects with the tree through the other side of his body and swears in all forms of common.

This mattered not to Nescryn. She took off his helmet and brought her left fist down to his face. He brings down her right fist. Again and again, in the cold, calculated manner that she’s poured onto her work. The tears start to flow freely from her as she thinks about the events in of the past day and she thinks that she should have done something better, something to get them both out of there, but she couldn’t--

And at last she remembers Xalthos’ smiling face and her promise to come back for her brother and this brings her back to the present. She stops, heart pounding, head spinning. She looks at her fists, marred with cuts and bruises and stained with blood. She looks at the soldier, whose face she couldn’t even look at anymore. Reinforcements would probably arrive in a few moments. She has to pack up soon and leave no trace.

Nescryn drops to the forest floor, face buried in her bloodstained hands. For now, all is quiet.

#whumptober2021 #no.9 #presumed dead #(blind) rage #tears #OC #fic #blood #violence #torture #d&d character #d&d homebrew #high elf #artificer

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shinishinigummy · 2 years

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aaaaand that's a wrap. 31 days of whumptober.

To those that have liked and reblogged my writings, thank you so much. from the bottom of my heart.

Though I've had several difficulties with writing due to irl stuff, I am happy to have tried my hand in picking up the pen again.

I haven't written anything fiction for many months before October happened. I only got around to doing 15 days of kinktober last year, and never got to finish it. Maybe I'll post them sometime but also I'm a little embarrassed by them, so probably not lmfao

I'll be doing a masterpost after this.

Again THANK YOU SO MUCH!

#whumptober2021

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shinishinigummy · 2 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 31

HURT & COMFORT

disaster zone | trauma | prisoner

Summary: Spotty and the rest of the resistance fighters have been captured and placed in individual prison cells. On a cold, lonely night in her cell, she tries hard to cope and hope for the best.

War is unfair.

It is something that takes and keeps on taking, something that will never stop until even after the bombs and guns have run out. It is something that will always haunt one’s dreams and waking moments, long after everything else has settled. It is unfair, but it will keep happening.

Spotty wraps both arms around her legs and keeps them close to her body as she tries to stay warm in the small, dingy stone cell she’s been locked in. They didn’t bother to put cuffs on her hands so she’s free to move around and make herself as comfortable as possible, in the worst way she can manage. There’s a small hole on the ceiling where dirty water sometimes leaks through and she jumps when she hears the dripping. Her bed is messy and bloodstained, but the blood is not hers. She worries herself over the fate of the prisoners that once occupied this cell.

Looking outside the small window of her cell is pointless. The outside is caked with dirt and dust, and barred twice over with iron. Occasionally, she can hear and perceive running and shaking outside, in the few hours that she has already been here. During these occasions, she keeps her ears shut, the memories of the past few months coming to haunt her.

She knocks on the cells on both sides, calling out to the prisoners. No response. Just a few hours ago, she heard profanity and screams from her right, but she didn’t know who it was.

Perhaps, she is truly alone. Perhaps the fight is really over. She ignores the rumbling in her stomach as she realizes that she hasn’t eaten anything today. Briefly considering drinking the dirty dripping water to quench her parched throat, Spotty comes closer to the hole. A drop trickles, and it tastes horrible, a combination of metallic and putrid. She retches and heaves painfully.

As a last resort, Spotty goes over to the bed. The smell and the size of the bed means nothing to her, as her bed in the medical tent is just as worse as this one. The only thing that bothers her is the fact that once the cold settles in, her toes would probably freeze and she would end up shivering. Spotty tries to tuck herself in as close as she can to her body. By now, it would already be around midnight. The dreary silence is broken a few times by explosions off in the distance or a random scream coming from the wall to her left. She decides to ignore them, sleep this off.

Perhaps in the morning, or whenever she awakes, things would turn out for the better. But today will not be that day. She prays to whoever’s listening and available, and mumbles a lullaby to herself.

#whumptober2021 #no.31 #disaster zone #trauma #prisoner #OC #fic #wartime #prison

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shinishinigummy · 2 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 30

DIGGING YOUR GRAVE

major character death | left for dead | ghosts

Summary: In her final moments, Priscilla gets a glimpse of a life beyond what she had lived.

Note: This is a small write-up of my first D&D OC, Priscilla von Rosenbaum. She's a human hexblade warlock. She knows nothing about her past save for the fact that the Raven Queen rescued her from death by an ancient red dragon. In exchange for a rebirth, the memories of her past life were taken by the Raven Queen. And to bring her memories back, she has to find and defeat the ancient red dragon that ended her life once.

Out of all the OCs I have ever had in D&D so far, Priscilla is one of the least-characterized ones. My first foray into D&D was actually as a DM and not as a player lol, so I got to DM, but I never really got to play her officially. However, through some text RPs and some oneshots, I was able to bring her to some campaigns. I really love her, and I thought Whumptober was the perfect opportunity for me to write an epilogue for her.

Anyway, sorry for the long rant, here you go! JUST ONE MORE FIC AND I'M COMPLETING WHUMPTOBER!

Priscilla’s longsword pierces the ancient red dragon’s heart as it breathes a column of fiery smoke that smolders everything around her to ash, and the shield of cold that she has put up around herself crumbles and disintegrates, letting her take the brunt of the fires. As a final act of resistance, she screams, exerting as much effort as she can to remove the sword from the dragon’s bleeding chest to shield her from the blow, but it is far too late.

The darkness, flames, and fire were all too familiar.

What earliest memories she has of her ‘rebirth’ are one and the same. This time, there’s no one to save her from her demise. There is no Raven Queen to offer another chance in life, and no portal to shield her from the pain. After all, she has already upholded the end of her bargain, and fulfilled her raison d’etre. She should have told her fellow adventurers about where she’s going, but they’ll find out sooner or later, anyway.

It truly is the end of the line, and there is not a soul that she can say her goodbyes with.

The blade of the void shatters like glass in front of her, and she closes her eyes, accepting defeat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Too many people and voices go through the street, minding their own businesses, selling and buying their wares, checking the fresh produce. Priscilla finds herself in a location familiar to her. It is a street where a medieval marketplace is located, the sun high up in the sky, cloudless and immaculate.

However, she cannot recognize the people in the street, for they are only shadows, echoes of a past. They pass through her as though she is not there, nary a word of acknowledgement to let her know she is seen and perceived, and she wonders briefly who the real ghosts actually are.

She approaches a few of the stalls, expecting to pick something up from the carts, but her hand only passes through the fruits. She sees a pot of soup being prepared nearby, but she cannot feel the heat nor the smell of the meal. There is no sensation, no warmth, no lively atmosphere to be perceived here, merely an afterimage of what could have been something in her past life.

As the sun disappears from the horizon, Priscilla lies on the cobblestone steps, waiting for sleep to take her, realizing her fatigue and her sadness.

Before she drifts to sleep, she sees the visage of the Raven Queen, her white, porcelain skin and her shroud of darkness immaculate and pristine. She bows deeply, holding out her left hand.

“As promised, my dear Priscilla.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After some time, Priscilla feels something nudge her shoulder, rousing her from sleep. The hand is insistent, and warm, different from the numbness and otherwise non-sensation of the marketplace. She opens her eyes to see a child, a young, stout boy with dark hair and grey eyes. His eyes light up when Priscilla blinks, and he gives her a hug.

“Sister! Oh sister, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

She frowns. Sister?

The boy notices the expression on Priscilla’s face and he pouts. “Hey, what’s with that look on your face?! I don’t know the marketplace very much, so of course, I got lost! Don’t blame me!” This sends Priscilla’s frown even deeper. She doesn’t remember who this is, and she knows nothing about this place, only that it is familiar. Somehow… the boy is familiar too.

The boy sighs, probably losing patience. “Look, we already have the ingredients for dinner, so we should probably head back. And also! I bought you this!” The boy grins proudly as he holds up a small fried bun. “I remember you wanted to buy one last week, but we didn’t have spare money. Luckily I had a spare copper coin, so we can share this!”

Priscilla sits up slowly, looking at her. She isn’t wearing her sapphire coat and her white overalls, her black thigh-high boots. She’s wearing a simple blue tunic with a white apron over it. She has a basket of goods by her side, filled with fresh-looking vegetables and fruits. The boy doesn’t wait for her to respond, only dragging her by the hand, and she gasps as he takes her by the hand and streaks of clarity fill her brain.

But of course. She remembers now. She remembers everything now.

She opens the door to her room, a small, neatly-made bed in the corner, and a few open books on a table right beside it. Her dresser is open, some patchwork quilts and dresses in the progress of being finished. She looks in the mirror and sees herself, the weariness, war-worn face and her scars not a trace. All she sees in the mirror is herself, the very same one, but younger, and healthier.

She goes to her bed and she lies down, the scent of lavender and the feel of her soft pillow making her smile and awfully comfortable.

Priscilla is finally home.

#whumptober2021 #no.30 #major character death #left for dead #ghosts #OC #fic #d&d #d&d 5e character #hexblade warlock #raven queen #dragon

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 29

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY

“You’re still not dead?” | too weak to move | overworked

Summary: After the massacre in her family home, Ida seeks help from priests that exorcise her. It was a spectacle worth watching.

Note: This is the final entry in the Pandora's Box Whumptober series. It was a fun and refreshing experience to be able to write again.

Also, to keep up, the last two stories will be posted hopefully within the day along with a masterpost!

It's the 13th hour, yet I still don't tire of watching. I have to keep watching, waiting for them to stop moving.

The creature in the middle of the room twitches weakly, trying to hold on to their coil of life, or at least a vestige of it. For the past three hours they had been coughing, the amount of blood decreasing with each hour that passes.

I do not remember their name, but I remember how they came to be in this predicament. There is an overwhelming sense of loss and fear and anger, as I watch them crane their head upwards, high enough to let me see their bloodshot eyes, watching me intently.

I will not look away. I will see that they are dead.

The priests chanted at the top of their lungs, the conglomeration of Latin and Greek like venom on their tongues. There is madness and magic in the air, electrifying and oppressing, out-stenching the putrid smell of vomit and bile on the stone slab. The girl screamed as she received the priests' benediction, the demon inside hurt by her outright rejection of its existence. It mourns, and sighs, and breaks free, mourning the loss of a body that was perfectly capable of causing death and destruction. It could have been the end of all time, but it ended.

The girl watches the demon's emaciated body be chained to the floor, a trap door above pouring spouts of holy water for every hour that passes. Unholy screams and yelps of words that transcend human language, utterly incomprehensible, come forth from them. The girl trembled in fear but she looked on, eager to see this through.

"I cannot imagine what you have been through, Ida. The gods above will see to it that your tormentor, this unhallowed catastrophe, will be banished. For now, you can rest."

The ceremony official took her hand, urging her to rest. She shook her head.

"I.. I want to watch. They took my father, and my mother, and my sister from me. I do not know why they did this to me, but they blamed me. They said I was perfect. I am not. So I want to ask them and watch them."

The official looked at her, and he nodded.

"If that is your wish, young one, then that shall be granted."

The demon had been watching the girl behind a glass the whole time, and try as they might to break free, spittle and blood spewing and frothing at the mouth, they cannot touch her.

"You're still not dead?" I watch as the creature's torso gets pierced through by the water that pours from the trapdoor above. That cannot be. They are already pushed to their limit. I can see it in their body. But their eyes, the fire and anger have not been extinguished yet.

"i.. will… not… die… here… love… you…" they cough, and I watch closely.

"You will what?"

They laugh, and the sound makes my teeth grate. It was like hearing the depths of the earth.

"...will… see… others… of… me…" Their eyes light up, enough for me to see. I tilt my head. I wonder when they will pass away.

"You are the only one inside that box. You are the manifestation of chaos, of everything bad in this world. You could have done better without my help. So why did you still pick me?"

Something changes in their demeanor. Their shoulders softened, their long, broken nails piercing the ground laid flat on the floor. They looked away from me, their head turned to the floor.

"You… understood… my… pain…"

I don't understand what they mean. "Did I?" Tentatively, I go closer to the glass. The creature remained in place, too weak to move.

It did not have the energy to turn back to me, and I think I can feel them decaying before me. Slowly by slowly, particles of dust rose up from the place where they were lying down. They said something, almost a whisper. If I didn't place my ear close to the glass, I could have missed it.

After that, a small hurricane picked up and as I blinked, the creature was gone, the only evidence of its existence a large puddle of black blood on the floor.

I stared there for a long while, so long until the priests picked me up and let me rest. I pondered their final words to me.

"Because in another life, I was once like you. I wanted to avenge you."

Somehow, I didn't doubt them.

Alone in a small room with a cold, hard bed, I let the tears fall from my face. I mourned for my family. I pondered my future, and dried my tears, staring at the ceiling. Yes. There was still so much to do. Like picking up the scraps from my family home, and talking with the custodian. And perhaps taking over what's left of my father's archaeological business.

Perhaps this was not the end for me just yet.

#whumptober2021 #no.29 #you're still not dead?#too weak to move #overworked #OC #fic #exorcism #torture #au greek mythology #pandora's box

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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So very happy to participate in an October challenge!

Our beloved participants,

we're now very close to the end of the event and like last year, we want you to have these badges to commemorate your participation and achievement of becoming a completionist!

Thank you so much for all the creativity, joy and manic energy you brought us ❤️ Thank you all - creators & consumers - for making this community strive and coming together in this fun event!

Keep on whumping!

- the mods

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 28

IT’S NOT JUST IN YOUR HEAD

“Good. You’re finally awake.” | nightmares | panic

Summary: Vasilisa can’t seem to shake off a dream she had about the events that changed her life forever, and how she wants to kill the little bitch Strahd.

Note: This is a fic featuring characters from a Curse of Strahd campaign DM'ed by my good friend @SamulsonsHeir. Vasilisa Morozova is my Wood Elf Druid, and Alvard Fenriksen is @masterJAD's character, a Human Artificer!

“Vasilisa. Run.”

She felt the heat emanating from the burning grass and the dying trees around her. Tears that have long left her eyes stained her cheek and they felt like molten liquid. Her family tells her to run, but she could not. She knew she had to. She did. Yet she couldn’t.

She couldn’t look away. She knew that it was possible for him to strike her heart, and burn away everything else, including her. The beast’s piercing red eyes held her gaze, and he smirked.

She can’t look away even as her family cried and begged for her to go. Her breathing was erratic, and her heart pounding like it wanted to come out of her chest.

Was this fear? Why can’t I move?

She’s had this same vision for days on end, but she couldn’t quite reach the ending. All she knew was that it made her cry and scared her all the same.

Was everything my fault? Did I live for nothing?

Her parents and her siblings didn’t answer. Perhaps they were too scared to admit it, that Vasilisa had done something wrong. She wanted to cry. She wanted Strahd to take her life, let her join the family, but he didn’t. And perhaps that’s the most cruel thing of all - the fact that her family would always be there for her, but she couldn’t promise the same.

She put her hands on her eyes, stopping the tears from flowing. They couldn’t. They just kept going. It’s getting really hard to breathe for her, taking in large gulps of air. The end just couldn’t come any closer, why won’t it just arrive?

She heard a voice calling out to her, but she couldn’t recognize the voice. She pushed it away, but it was insistent. It tugged at her, and she felt her legs beneath her give way, and she opened her eyes.

In front of her was the worried visage of a blond man, a potion in his right hand.

“Good, you’re finally awake. Ye got me worried dere for a second.”

Vasilisa reached for Alvard, and she hugged him, sobbing on his shoulder.

“Oy, oy, be careful wid de potion, Vasi..!”

The alchemist sighed, putting the potion down on a nearby tree stump, and hugged Vasilisa as well.

“Bad dream, eh? But dat’s not right. You lot can’t really sleep.”

Vasilisa nodded all the same.

#whumptober2021 #no.28 #good. you're finally awake #nightmares #panic #OC #fic #curse of strahd #d&d 5e #druid #artificer

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 27

I’M FINE. I PROM...

passing out | vertigo | collapse

Summary: Prom night is supposed to be a grand night for high school. For Priscilla, it was the worst. And that might have been a good thing that she didn’t have a good time.

Heck yeah just one more fic and I'm already caught up! An AU fic for my OC Priscilla, a short prom mystery thing.

I hate high school cliches.

I don’t want to say that I was one of the weird one archetypes that didn’t really fit in in class, in a social circle, or anywhere, really. I wish I could say that I had a group of friends that I cared about, but we drift in and out of those circles.

So, as much as I hate to be put in the cliche of an outcast who’s far away from the dancefloor in the school grounds, it still happened to me. Who would have thought? I wonder if I should just go in there and do something, but I can’t. There’s nothing for me there. I just wasted a hundred dollars on a stupid dress and makeup. I wish things turned out differently.

I don’t remember how long I stayed in that dingy bench, sloshing a plastic cup that was already half-empty of fruit punch. It tasted bland and if I could sum up the entirety of this night in a few words, it would have to be those three first words.

I think I felt something shift behind me, and I thought maybe they were probably one of the partygoers having some fun. But no, I didn’t hear anything else, just a slight movement in the wind, and a feeling of slight dizziness.

That’s strange. Was it something I ate or drank? I sat up from my sitting position, and my head throbbed a tiny bit. It’s probably the way I was seated, then.

Then I felt something touch my shoulder and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I stood up to see who the intruder was, and I dropped my drink. It was a guy in a tuxedo and bow tie, but I didn’t really know him. He was wearing a cap and he had a backpack slung over his back, and his face wasn’t looking at me directly. Or, I don’t know, he must have been looking straight at me. I’m blinking my eyes hard, trying to feel relief, but my head just keeps on throbbing like shit.

“Hey, you’re Priscilla. Um, from 12-B, right?”

“Yeah.” My head’s full-on spinning now, and I feel nauseous.

He laughs. “Oh okay, good. I thought everyone was already inside.”

His laugh gave me a headache. “Sorry, what?” I can’t focus properly on his face, and the more I try to put myself in a more upright, standing position, the worse I feel. I don’t recognize him, but I think I’ve already seen him somewhere. I just don’t remember names that much..

“Hey are you okay, you, uh.. Oh no--”

I had to sit down, the light dimming in my eyes. Could it have been the drinks? The guy took my hand and my shoulder and guided me to the bench that I had been sitting on for a few hours now. My world refused to stop spinning right before my eyes.

“You don’t look so well. Hey, let’s get out of here. I can bring you home, is your house nearby?”

Hell no. My parents would think I was having some shady shit. Or actually, you know what? Maybe I can let him take me home. I laughed despite myself.

“No, no, I’m fine. I just need-- ugh..”

“Priscilla? Let’s get out of here. I’ll carry you. You can’t stay here.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine. I prom--”

The noises in the background were draining away, and I closed my eyes. I think I’m going to pass out. The last thing I felt before I lost consciousness was muffled screaming and a feeling of my body being carried by the guy. I never asked his name.

Looking back now, I think that was for the best.

When I came to, it was already morning, and I was back in my bedroom. My parents told me that I went home near midnight, and they were worried about me.

“What? Why?” I said, as I was sipping my milk and chomping on a breakfast burrito. Dad had been talking to people all morning, and apparently some police would be coming in later to ask me questions. I didn’t quite understand, and that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You didn’t hear? Oh god..”

Apparently, the students that stayed in the prom until midnight fainted, some of them actually dead. There were traces of gas and poison found in the basketball court where the prom night took place. Fear pooled in the pit of my stomach when I found out that apparently someone had poisoned the punch and placed the gas canisters around the court. The perpetrator still was nowhere to be found.

I gulped slowly, thinking about the random guy that I encountered outside the school.

I think I finally understood what he meant.

#whumptober2021 #no.27 #passing out #vertigo #collapse #OC #fic #poison #prom night #poison gas

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 26

YOU WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP

fallen | waterfall

Summary: A young sailor falls from the ship and he recounts a failed mutiny against the backdrop of a sinking ship in a waterfall at the edge of the world.

When all the world falls from beneath you, and the water beneath your feet gives way to your descent, what are the thoughts that come through your head?

To me, it’s the regret of not having to shoot the captain twice in the heart.

The sun was high in the sky, the azure waters giving way to foam and bubbles, and the sound of rushing water. A young sailor, his head swimming from the height in which the ship was so precariously balanced, holds his hands up, crossing the plank.

Beads of sweat went down his back as he readied himself for what he was about to do. He turned around with a head start, walking back to the ship. As soon as he reached the starboard, he jumped, raising his leg, kicking the captain in the chest. He came down on his legs and the young sailor jumped onto him before the other crew closed in on him, his hands on the captain’s gun.

There were screams of a mutiny from the portside. Gunshots rang out, and the sailor knew that the mission was underway. Taking the gun, he closed his eyes and shot randomly at the crowd, eliciting yelps of pain. He opened his eyes, the crowd dispersed.

It was time to take the ship from the captain. It was--

Suddenly, he felt a burst of pain from his left shoulder blade, sudden and intense. He looked to his left to see a cutlass blade pierced through him, the owner of the blade twirling him with the blade harshly, the blade pulled from his side. He raised the gun, but it was all so fast. With one swift motion, he was pushed to the bow, bleeding out on the deck.

The captain looked at him, red in his eyes. “You and your lot will be sent straight to hell!”

He shot the captain, and he felt him choke, his eyes barely registering the blooming red stain on his precious captain coat. He let go of the sailor, hobbling backwards, uneasy on his feet. He fell to the ground, trying to catch his breath, reminding himself that he was merely human. The sailor held his left shoulder, steeling himself for another shot. But he didn’t make it.

The ship was falling, wobbling, and he had to grab on to one of the masts to steady himself, but the world was going backwards. There were screams all over the ship.

“We need hands here!” “Grab the chains!” “No!” “Let go of my hand, you damned wretch!”

Someone grabbed him by his uninjured shoulder blade, and he was thrown to the ground, which was going to be turned upside down. He closed his eyes, losing his grip, and he heard a voice before he fell.

“Your mutiny is useless, boy. This ship will go down with me, and so will you.”

It’s a shame. I had my hand on the flintlock, but I wasn’t fast enough.

I wondered if the rest of the crew were able to be safe, or if they were falling down with me.

I opened my eyes, looking down to see the pool of foam and rushing water from the waterfall rapidly approaching. I wondered if there were rocks below. Or if I would survive.

I close my eyes again, bracing for the fall.

#whumptober2021 #no.26 #fallen #waterfall #OC #fic #mutiny #stabbing

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 24

ONE DOWN TWO TO GO

self-induced injuries to escape | flashback | revenge

Summary: In the clutches of darkness, Anitta wants to break free from the chains that bind her, and take her captor down with her.

A fic exploring the backstory of my dhampir warlock Anitta Strangelove, a character from my good friend @Coffee's homebrew steampunk campaign!

The cold metal digs into her skin, close enough to burn, but not quite. His father knew what they were doing, but he did nothing but watch. The last she saw of him was the steely look on his face, his hands on his cane as they dragged her away.

She’s never understood what her mother, her real one, meant about people’s true intentions until this day.

“They will feed you, and clothe you, hurt you, and do many other things with you. They won’t stop until they try to suppress your true nature, mój mały skarb. And only during that time can you rely only on yourself, and no one else.”

She looks around the cell she’s contained in, and looks at the silver bars in front of her. She can definitely do it. There’s enough space. She just needs to be rid of these damn chains.

Anitta takes deep breaths. It’s now or never.

She holds onto her right wrist, and squeezes. She bites down on her tongue to keep her from screaming out in pain and she tries to expect it. But she sees red and stars behind her eyes, and the shock of the sound of her bones popping and her skin tearing elicits a harsh yelp and tears start to fall. She kneels to the ground, moving her body inwards, trying not to cry. If she blows her cover, she’ll face something worse. But the pain.. The pain is too much..

“It hurts, oh it hurts so much” she whispers to herself, and she wonders if it’s only the literal pain she’s feeling. She couldn't bear to look at her own hand. She wonders why her father put her in this predicament, and why her mother only looked at her with those soft eyes.

“Mama. Why will people be bad? Why will they harm us?”

Her mother strokes her hair, lulling her to sleep with an old dhampir folk tune.

“Because they can, and because they will, kochanie.”

Her mother looks at her with soft eyes, and kisses her cheek.

The pain subsided, but the embers of her anger were only beginning. Taking both of her hands, she whispers the incantation and she walks through the mist, away from the prison cell.

Opening the door to the cell, she sees two guards turn their heads towards her. But that doesn’t matter at all. Two down, plenty more to go. But she can take all the time in the world.

Ascending the stairs, she attempts to look as presentable as she can even with the bloodstains on her dress and her ruined hand. No cage will ever be enough to chain her.

Atop the stairs, his father moves back behind a group of armed men. She can smell the fear and the anxiety from him.

“Guards! Take her away!” He screams to the men behind him, and they nod, going for her.

Anitta only smiles.

It feels nice to be feared.

#whumptober2021 #no.24 #self-induced injuries to escape #flashback #revenge #OC #fic #breaking bones #dhampir #d&d 5e #d&d character

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 25

HIDE & SEEK

Poppy Playtime OC Fanfic | escape | flight | hiding

Summary: After quitting his nightly janitor job at Playtime Co., Ed takes a break to rest and recuperate. One night at 3 am, he gets a distressing call that sends shivers down his spine..

Note: I wrote this out of the sheer terror I had after watching multiple playthroughs of Poppy Playtime. I have never, EVER felt so scared of a toy in my life than Huggy-fuckin-Wuggy. Also, this is the first time I’m doing a sort of chase scene through the telephone so forgive mt for the poor execution (spoilers lol).

Now is not yet your time.

Get up.

I can hear the sounds of screams ringing in my ears, the eyes of a thousand toys that I swear are following my direction every time I look up from sweeping and scrubbing the floors. Each night, I can sense those eyes, those little beads of white on black that seem to want to break out of their manufactured boxes.

The worst I’ve ever seen of it were the employees that seemed to never have come back after their shift. The boss says that it was because they weren’t able to comply with factory standards, but I know that’s not true. Something’s being hidden here, but I don’t know what.

A week after I resigned, I kept some close contact with my buddy Eric. He’d always be on the shift after me, and everytime we switched places, I could see him looking terrified. I even tried talking to him about it, but all the time, he says that it’s nothing. It’s just our nerves getting the better of us.

Bullshit.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would wake up, screaming, but I don’t know what it is I saw. Something.. Like teeth. Rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, threatening to swallow me whole.

I think I need to see the doctor. But.. I don’t know what to tell ‘em. That I’m crazy? That some kid’s factory’s messing with my brain? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just overthinking this. I never picked up a rosary before but I think I’m gonna try doing what my mom used to do. To calm me, maybe fall asleep.

I’m suddenly awake when my home phone rings.No one ever calls me anymore, but that’s my fault. I needed some time for myself. I wonder who it is. I stretch my limbs, bleary-eyed, looking at the digital clock on my bedside before getting chills down my spine.

3 am.

Holy shit.

The phone kept ringing, and suddenly I felt the urge to ignore it. I don’t want anything to do with this anymore, if it’s from the factory. Fuck that.

I go back to bed, trying to shake away my fear. I count sheep, wanting to forget. But the damned phone keeps ringing. It’s cold, but I’m sweating in fear. I don’t want anything happening. If I keep ignoring it, it’ll surely end the call, yeah?

But it doesn’t. The sound of the phone drones in my ear, and maybe after a minute, it still keeps on going. Fuck. If I don’t open it, I might wake the neighbors. I put my hands over my face and sigh, turning towards my bedside. 3:03 am. Fuck. Witching Hour. Fuck..

“Damn it, damn it, damn it..!” I reach out and put the receiver up to my ear.

“H-Hello?”

There’s no response.

“Hello, who is this?”

Still no response. But I heard some sort of thump? Like someone banging on metal. It makes me think about the many vents and conveyor belts of the factory, where the multitude of plastic limbs and eyes would accompany my once-nightly cleanups. Fuck. I should stop thinking about them.

“Hey, it’s 3 am and I would love to get back to sleep. Uh.. who’s calling me?”

This time, I could hear some static, and someone.. Breathing? I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my brain messing with me again. But I know something’s not right. Something’s happening, and I can feel the fight-or-flight response. I gotta hang up.

“Hey, is this a prank call? I’m hanging up. I don’t have time to play around.”

“HELP. HELP.”

Suddenly there’s a voice on the other end, somehow disembodied and hollow? Like speaking through a can. My hands are sweating. I think I know who’s talking.

“E-Eric? Eric, man, is that you?”

Another thump, and I involuntarily shake. I sit upright, hyperfocusing on the call. I could hear footsteps (were they footsteps?) at the other end, and erratic breathing.

“Ed! ..fuck..!” there’s a sound of banging on the other end, and some blood curdling scream from the distance. I’m panicking. I think I’m panicking. “Ed.. listen! You’ve got to fucking help me! Th-the--” there’s another scream, and this time it’s nearer. I curl my toes, and close my eyes, trying to control my breathing. There’s a squeak of some hinge and a small thud.

“Eric, what the fuck is happening? Are you in the factory?!”

“Yeah!” He breathes erratically, but keeps his voice down.. “Dude, look, I don’t have much time, I’m hiding in one of the employee locker rooms, you know? The one on the second floor?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Listen, what the fuck is happening there?”

“Can you come pick me up, man? The fucking.. The fucking DOLL, it came alive! Oh god--”

There’s a thump on the other end, and skittering. There’s a moment of silence and Eric whimpers on the other end. I think he’s still in the locker, trying to not make a sound. I’m taking my wallet, trying to look at the floorplan I still have of the factory, then I take a pen from my drawer. I look at the second page and I nod to myself. I think I know where Eric is.

“Listen, Eric. I’m a state away from you. Even if I drive now, I won’t be able to make it there in two days. Buddy. I’m sorry, okay?”

Eric whimpers on the other end, and I swear I can imagine him gritting his teeth as there’s a sudden loud THUMP, and I’m standing at the edge of my bed. I’m shining a light on the map and I’m drawing a line, maybe the nearest exit possible. I think I know where he can go.

“Eric, my man, you there?”

“Y-yeah, I’m here. It’s uh..” there’s a slight pause, “it’s all quiet now. I think. I’m looking through the slits in the locker.. Oh fuck… why the fuck is there blood--”

He’s gurgling and I think he’s going to throw up.

“Buddy hold it in!”

Too late. I heard the sound of a heave and liquid pouring down.

“Man, look. Calm down. You’re not going to achieve anything from hiding there. Whatever’s pursuing you--” I look at the map again, “it can’t reach you if you get out of there as fast as you can. Alright? I know the way. I still have my map.”

“O-okay. Yeah.. you’re right..”

“You’re on the second floor. Which means you’re probably on the east wing, where the lockers are. There’s a fire exit on your right, if I’m right, that should be unlocked. You got that?”

“Y-yeah.. Yeah..”

“Alright. Go. Now. Be my eyes and ears, I’ll guide you.”

What I assume is the locker door opens, and I can hear Eric whimper on the other end. There’s a little bit of static and I can hear his footsteps. There’s a slight struggle as he tries to open what I assume is the fire exit door and it does, swinging open, really loudly. I cringed, my teeth gritting. Fuck.

“The..the coast is clear.. Um… fuck.. Okay.. uh down?”

“You’re in the fire exit now? Good. Okay, go up one flight of stairs. There’s supposed to be a door there that leads straight to the cafeteria. Then I think you already know from there yeah?”

I hear a flight of stairs and a piercing scream and my heart thumps in my chest. “Eric what the fuck was that--”

“IT’S BEHIND ME IT’S BEHIND ME IT’S CRAWLING UP FROM THE STAIRS OH GOD OH FUCKKKK--”

“RUN! JUST RUN, ERIC!”

I hear Eric’s erratic breathing and his footsteps as he ascends the hallway, and I can hear small pitter-patter of footsteps behind him, and I’m sweating, trying to hold on to the phone and keeping my wits with me. Oh god. I’m in my house, I’m okay. But Eric isn’t. And I’m fearing for his life. His life depends on me. I have to save him. I have to--

I hear a door swinging open and I hear Eric dashing through an open area, I think it’s the cafeteria. I can hear the squeaks of his rubber shoes on the polished floor and all around him are the sounds, distorted sounds of the Playtime Co. anthem on speaker and it makes me want to hang up, but I won’t. I have to help him escape.

“Eric. Don’t look back. Just keep running. Once you get out of the cafeteria, make a quick right. You’ll be at the factory entrance. Just a bit more okay? Eric?”

“Yeah! Oh god, oh fuck, Ed it’s behind me, and it’s MASSIVE--”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO LOOK BACK! Just keep running, yeah? There should be a double door--”

“ED! OH FUCK, THE HANDS!”

There’s a chill down my spine. The Grabpack. “Eric, you don’t have your Grabpack with you?”

“OH GOD, OH GOD, OH F--”

I hear him screaming as he thumps on something repeatedly, and lastly, the swinging of the big double doors. It’s done. He’s out of there.

“Just keep running, keep running, Eric, turn right!”

“I AM!”

I continue to hear the squeak of his shoes and another thump, followed by another. Eric lets out a moan, I think it’s him. “Eric, bud, what happened?”

There’s sounds of something muffled on the line, intelligible. I don’t know what the fuck that is. I’m gripping the phone tight that my nails are already digging in my palms. “Eric, talk to me!”

There’s only silence. Then static. Then, the line drops. My heart wants to burst out of my chest. I try to dial the number, Eric’s number. I think that’s his phone. Just seven numbers. This is fine, this is fine, but Eric isn’t. I have to call. I hear the dial, but there’s no response. I’m sweating, pacing my room. What doll? What’s chasing after him, could it be..

Then, suddenly, my phone rings. I pick it up and answer even before the first chime ends. “Eric, bud, you ok?”

There’s only static on the other end.

“Eric?”

“Hey, Ed.” I let out an audible sigh of relief, but at the same time, I kept my guard up. The jig’s probably not over yet. “Are you out already?”

There’s silence on the other end. I can barely hear anything. It’s as if it’s muffled. But I’m sure that’s Eric’s voice. “Yeah, I’m free now.”

Free? What..

“You mean, you got out of the factory already? Nothing’s chasing you anymore?”

More silence. My stomach sinks. Something’s wrong.

“Yeah. I’m fine now. It’s all good now.” I think I can hear a smile in his voice.. What..?

“Are you sure, Eric? You don’t.. You don’t sound like what you sounded a while ago.”

“I said, Ed, I’m okay now. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You saying that makes me worry even more! Eric, if you need it, I can pick you up--”

“It’s okay now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. Just.. forget it, okay? It was just my mind playing tricks on me again.”

I can feel something’s wrong. I don’t know. I have to start packing.

“Hey, I’m getting over there as early as I can. By tomorrow morning, I’ll be there. Go to the police, report whatever’s happening there, and stay there okay? I can help you. Drive you to your house if you need to.”

“Everything’s been taken care of, Ed. It’s alright now.”

“It doesn’t seem to be that way.”

There’s some laugh, and a rumble on the other end, but it seemed like more of a growl. I stop in my tracks.

“One way or another, everything will turn out for the best, Ed. Goodbye now.”

The line ends, and my phone doesn’t ring for the rest of the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s morning now.

I’m in my car and I’m driving across the country to head to Playtime Co. the fastest way possible. Eric, or if that even WAS him, scared me. That last line tells me that somehow, something’s happening. And if no one does anything, maybe there would be consequences.

I stop at the front of Playtime Co., the largest factory this side of the state.

I get out of my car, take my supplies, trusty map, and the Grabpack. Somehow they let me have this. A keepsake of fun times, I guess?

I head inside, like going into the belly of the beast.

#whumptober2021 #no.25 #escape #flight #hiding #poppy playtime #fic #blood #chase scene #horror #telephone #huggy wuggy #OC

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shinishinigummy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 23

YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT

Persona 5 AU Fanfic | auction | pursuit

Summary: The Phantom Thieves participate in a little side quest: a heist at a shadow auction. Will they pull off the heist or will something go wrong? Set some time around Kaneshiro’s Palace!

A short P5 AU fanfic! I apologize for the incoming Whumptober post spam and poorer fic quality. My schedule's quite hectic these days, so I'm going to try to keep up until Day 27 within the day.

“..Going once, going twice, SOLD! Article 666-b goes to number 99. Sold for 60 million yen!”

The crowd, mostly made of shadow people, sigh and moan as the buyer, in an elegant black suit and matching white mask, raises his buyer tag and bow. The crowds stand and part as the boxed item is taken back to a cart, a large, imposing shadow carrying it behind the large velvet curtains of the hall.

“Three, two, one. Time to take the show on the road.”

Behind the curtains, a servant in an elegant fox mask nods as he wheels the cart with the box, moving in a labyrinthian corridor filled with pictures of faceless humanoids and ornate paintings of unspeakable and madness-inducing.

“Proceeding to the meeting area. No encounters as of now.”

Out of the shadows, a similarly-dressed servant with a red feline mask joins the fox in wheeling the box. They nod at each other, uttering not a word. They stop in their tracks as a large, heavy-bodied shadow with dark holes and a mask as a face looks at them, sniffing them all over, before nodding and melting to the wall.

“..shit that was close! Hurry up, you two! This driver suit’s making me feel uncomf-- what is this even made of? Fuckin.. Shadows!”

“Well, if you didn’t insist on driving, you could have been inside the palace, dummy!”

“Shush, Panther. We have agreed to keep our peace and silence until we reach the door, yes?”

The pair pass through a set of opened large, ornate double doors. They look at the ground to see two shadows twitching on the ground, slowly disintegrating. They heard footsteps behind them as an iron-masked guard stride by their sides, nodding at them. They turn corridors

“Queen here. We’re almost there. Have any of you heard from Joker?”

“No. He’s supposed to be with us, right about now?”

The trio stops in their tracks as they look around. The corridor isn’t the same as they initially entered. Could they have gone the wrong way..? The fox stops moving the cart and looks around for signs of enemy activity. But all is quiet..

“Skull, rev the engines.”

“Wait, where the hell are you guys?”

“I don’t know! We’re supposed to be at the entrance, but..”

“All we’re seeing is total darkness! And mist!”

“Joker, are you there? Can you hear us?”

There’s dead air. The trio grows apprehensive.

“Alright, we’re circling back our tracks. We’ll just go back to the double do--”

The feline mask stops turning the cart as she jumps back in surprise. A golden eye opens in front of her face, then another. The darkness becomes tangible, and the ground shakes beneath them. They were trapped. In front of them, a gargantuan monster with dark tendrils reaches out for the box. The iron-masked stands in front, taking her gun.

“Fox, Panther, get behind me! Don’t let-- whatever this is, get near it!”

The two nod. Then they feel another presence behind them.

“Joker!”

The man in the black suit and white mask nods.

“What took you so long?”

He takes out a hammer.

“We need to open the box.”

The ground shakes beneath them, and the box nearly falls out of the cart. The gargantuan shadow starts to scream.

“A-are you sure?”

The white-masked man nods. He uses the hammer to pry out the nails from the crate, and a bright, blinding light emerges from it…

----------------------

Outside the auction hall…

“Mreow! WHY DID YOU DO THAT, JOKER?”

“Why didn’t you tell us that that was inside? Damn it!”

“Was that…”

“Yep. Morning Star.”

“...So what happens now?”

“Aside from having blown up a full palace filled with rotten shadows? Nothing. But..”

There’s a thud inside the car.

“HEY! BE CAREFUL!”

“OH MY!”

“ARE WE GOING TO BE RICH?”

“HOLY SHIT! WE CAN PROBABLY GET SOME SUSHI FOR THIS!”

In the dark of night, the Phantom Thieves exit and return to reality, mission complete.

#whumptober2021 #no.23 #auction #pursuit #persona 5 #p5 #p5 au #heist #shadows

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