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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 1

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whumpsday · 4 months

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Whump enjoyers who haven't played BG3, which character sounds most appealing just from their ordeal's description?

1: A duke's son who made a deal with a devil to become powerful enough to save his city. Part of that deal was that he couldn't talk about it or why he did it, and he was banished from the city by his father for dealing with a devil. He is now bound to do the devil's bidding. The devil refers to him as her pet and treats him as such.

2: A cultist in a dark cult trained to torture others as per the doctrines of her goddess. Her memories have been wiped, and she firmly believes she is doing the right thing, having been told so for all that she can remember. Being devout doesn't exempt her from the pain, however: her goddess routinely sends pain through her, always watching.

3: A soldier raised in a cutthroat militaristic society centered around worshipping her warrior-queen-goddess. She knows little of the outside world and was forced to fight and kill her peers, not that she minds it: she fully believes in all the principles she's been raised with. Her world starts to shatter as she realizes she's been raised on lies.

4: A warrior who used to be a bodyguard, loyal to her client. Her client betrayed her, selling her to a devil. Seeing potential in her, the devil forced her to fight in a war in hell. Her heart was ripped out and replaced with an infernal engine that makes her burning-hot to the touch, starving her of physical affection. After 10 years, she managed to escape, but the engine is slowly killing her, not made to function outside hell.

5: A magic prodigy who caught the attention of the goddess of magic herself. They had an intimate relationship with an incredibly unbalanced, toxic power dynamic. In an attempt to prove himself, he attempted to wrangle with a powerful magic artifact. He failed, and as a result, became infected with an arcane illness that requires him to consume powerful magic items or die. The goddess rejected him after his failure, leaving him to deal with it alone.

6: A corrupt magistrate whose judgments were so unpopular, he was beaten to death. He was "rescued" as he lay dying by a vampire who turned him into his spawn, a creature beholden to the will of the vampire who turned him. As a slave under the vampire's rule, he was tortured for the sake of pure sadism, had scars carved into his back, starved and made to feed on rotting dead rats, and made to use his body to lure back victims for his master- for 200 years.

character names / who's who in the replies for those curious

#fandom

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alittlehurtwithyourcomfort · 2 months

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The Dragon Prince Whumplist

Character: Callum (voiced by Jack DeSena)

Age Rating: TV-Y7 (FV)

Show available on Netflix

Genre: Animation, Found Family, Action, Adventure, Fantasy

Synopsis: In the magical land of Xadia, magic comes from six primal sources: the sun, moon, stars, sky, earth and ocean. When human mages create a seventh kind of magic -- dark magic -- they start capturing and harvesting the unique magical creatures they need as ingredients, which sparks a war between Xadia and the Human Kingdoms. Three kids from opposite sides of the conflict -- two princes and an elven assassin sent to kill them -- discover a secret that could change everything and decide to join forces and go on an epic journey. That trek could be their only hope of ending the war and restoring peace to both worlds. (Via Google)

Notes: This show is GOOD. If you like ATLA, you'll enjoy this. It gets progressively darker and more violent as the show goes on, so fair warning for that. The relationships between the characters are amazing, and there's also great diverse representation! I highly recommend.

TW's: Violence, mild blood/gore (audio/visual gets worse in later seasons), death, child abuse/neglect, child endangerment, emetophobia (very mild), mild torture

List Key:

bold = most whump, best whump, or favorite whump scenes

~ = a scene break

THIS LIST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES!

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

1x01: sparring ~~ upset, argued

1x02: teary-eyed, emotional goodbye ~~ knocked around, holding his head ~~ threatened

1x03: betrayed, stressed ~~ manhandled, restrained, voice taken (by magic), heavy breathing ~~ scared, gets voice back and coughing ~~ terrified, shocked and teary-eyed, out of breath

1x04: stressed ~~ held at swordpoint

1x05: stressed

1x06: extremely worried, scared

1x07: emotional conversation, stressed

1x08: scared

1x09: scared, stressed

2x01: sad, stressed

2x02: extremely emotional, sobbing ~~ grieving

2x03: grieving, worried, teary-eyed ~~ sobbing, comforted ~~ betrayed

2x04: stressed

2x05: grieving, stressed

2x06: crying

2x07: glowing eyes, passes out, concern for him ~~ helped to stand, weak

2x08: helped to walk, delirious, weak ~~ in pain, delirious, unconscious ~~ terrifying dreams ~~ concern for him ~~ struggling to breathe, concern for him

2x09: still struggling to breathe, held, concern for him, wakes up gasping

3x01: stressed

3x02: none

3x03: stressed

3x04: stressed

3x05: stressed

3x06: emotional

3x07: out of breath, almost passes out

3x08: frustrated

3x09: stressed ~~ choked, gasping for air ~~ crying, terrified, almost falls

4x01: stressed ~~ startled ~~ solemn, crying

4x02: stressed, startled

4x03: angry ~~ solemn

4x04: angry ~~ scared, choking, half-collapsed, possessed, body puppeteered, glowing eyes ~~ still possessed, concern for him, collapsed, unconscious, held

4x05: crying, choked up ~~ emotional conversation

4x06: stressed

4x07: emotional conversation, "i need you to kill me", talking about possession

4x08: stressed ~~ sleeping spell, weak, collapsed unconscious

4x09: rough awakening, scared

5x01: stressed

5x02: stressed

5x03: stressed

5x04: terrified, worried about his aunt

5x05: stressed

5x06: none

5x07: half-collapsed, magical exhaustion, struggling to breathe, helped to stand, supported, concern for him ~~ tired ~~ hands chained behind his back, chin grabbed/manhandled

5x08: unconscious, chained to a pole, shaky breathing, slowly waking up, scared, threatened, electrocuted/beaten (off-screen)~~ slowly waking up, still chained, blood and bruises on his face, heavy breathing, in pain, chin grabbed/manhandled ~~ scared ~~ manhandled, hands chained behind his back, stumbling, collapsed/forced to his knees, concern for him, weak ~~ extremely worried, yelling, angry, knocked out ~~ chained, struggling, pained voice, collapsed ~~ weak, "blood freezing", choked, gasping in pain, struggling, dropped, struggling to breathe, concerned ~~ sad, concern for him, hugged, guilty

5x09: concerned ~~ slammed into the ground, restrained

#whump #whump community #whumplist #whump blog #whumplists #whump recs #whump list #animated whump

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whumpily-ever-after · 2 months

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The Sign ลางสังหรณ์ Whump List

Summary: Tharn and Phaya are both detectives who are connected by more than their careers: events from their past lives keep them together. Along with their team, they solve crimes while also trying to make up for the sins of their past selves. But dark forces aim to keep them apart and may even take their lives.

Genre: Action, mystery, romance, supernatural

Country: Thailand

Year: 2023-2024

Watch it on: YouTube

Spoilers ahead...

Whumpee: Phaya Kamolwipak/Sakuna played by Billy Patchanon Ounsa-ard

Episode 1: (In a vision) In a fight, stabbed, bleeding from the mouth, dies | (present) shot at, in a fight

Episode 2: In a trance, walks into the ocean

Episode 3: Nightmare | spars with his friend, take some hits

Episode 4: Molotov cocktail thrown at him | in a fight, hit with a piece of wood, dazed, falls to the ground, threatened with a knife, blood on his head | wound tended to | believes his friend betrayed him

Episode 5: Shot at, in a fight, in a chokehold, thrown around, kicked in the chest, breathing heavily, pushed against a pillar, chocked, strangled with a rope | bandage on his hand and arm

Episode 6: Nightmare | knocked back by a magical force, falls on his back, has a vision of the past | threatened, punched in the face

Episode 7: None

Episode 8: Nightmare, physically reacting like he’s being attacked, says someone was strangling him in his dream | in a trance, walks into a river, pulled underwater | yells in pain, drops to his knees | (in a past life) blood on his shoulder, struggling to stand, dizzy, passes out, magically healed, grunting in pain | in a fight, on the ground, pushed against a tree, choked, in a fight (as a mythical creature), falls to the ground, covered in blood, bleeding from the mouth, dies | (present) drowns, given CPR

Episode 9: On a gurney | in a coma | attacked in a spiritual plane, body convulsing

Episode 10: None

Episode 11: Shot at, in a fight, punched in the face, shot at, chased, shot at, chased to the edge of a cliff, at gunpoint, kicked off the cliff | wakes up in a cave, grunting in pain

Episode 12: In a fight | concerned for Tharn, crying | pushed down, in a fight, grabbed by the neck | Tharn dying in his arms | wakes up in a hospital, worried for Tharn, struggling against his loved ones, told Tharn is gone, crying

Whumpee: “Tharn” Wansa Raksil played by Babe Tanatat Phanviriyakool

Episode 1: Has a vision, groans in pain, grabs his head

Episode 2: Drunk, carried on his friend’s back

Episode 3: Told he still must pay for the people he wronged in his past life | spars with his friend, punched in the stomach, knocked to the floor, pinned to the floor (on his stomach, head held down, arm held behind his back)

Episode 4: Told he has a short life, told he should have died when he was young, warned about the people he wronged in his past life coming to take his life; has a vision, face scrunched up in pain | grunts in pain, has a vision | Molotov cocktail thrown at him, trapped in a burning building

Episode 5: Pushed against a wall, hit in the face| shot at, hit by a metal rack, knocked to the floor, holding his arm against his stomach, shoved back by a blast of power, uses himself as a shield, stabbed, wound tended to

Episodes 6-7: None

Episode 8: (In a past life) uses himself as a human shield, shot with an arrow, dies | (present) chases a suspect, shot at, in a fight, held in a chokehold, saved | holding an unconscious Phaya in his arms, crying, calling for help

Episode 9: Crying | kicked in the stomach, stumbles back, kicked in the stomach, surrounded, grabbed from behind, kicked down several times, nearly shot, has a vision of Phaya in trouble

Episode 10: Has a vision, squinting his eyes in pain

Episode 11: Shot at, in a fight, kicked in the chest, shot at, chased, shot at, chased to the edge of a cliff, at gunpoint, kicked off the cliff | betrayed, told he belongs to the betrayer, falls to his knees, crying, friends and loved ones threatened

Episode 12: In a fight, at gunpoint, kicked in the stomach, punched in the face, falls to his hands an knees, grabbed by the back of the neck, kicked over, forced to stand, bent backwards over a railing, gun at his throat | uses himself as a shield | dying in Phaya’s arms, taken away

#the sign #the sign the series #thai drama #thai bl #whump list #whumplist #babe tanatat #billy patchanon

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amethystfairy1 · 3 months

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TTSBC x Traveling thieves crossover episode when?

TTSBC Avian Trio: "Who're you?"

Traveling Thieves Avian Trio: "We're you, but even more traumatized."

TTSBC Avian Trio: "Oh no."

Traveling Thieves Avian Trio: "We also live in a world purpose-built for whump fics."

TTSBC Avian Trio: "Oh no."

***

I'm not even sure how that would go down, but somehow I get the feeling it would trigger several panic attacks and at least one major fist fight.

But seeing Hot Guy!Scar and Elf!Scar interact would probably be fun. Biotech superhero meets nature magic fantasy creature would certainly show us some good times, you could say. I'm also pretty sure TTSBC!Scott and Traveling Thieves!Scott would get along pretty well, but the Jimmy's certainly wouldn't. Not sure if the world would be able to handle the amount of anxiety and trust issues the two of them are hauling around, even with double the Scotts to try and mitigate it! 😆

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #through the sky blue cracks #traveling thieves au #worldbuilding #skyblings #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #goodtimeswithscar #whump

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jasmines-library · 1 year

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You'll Be Okay.

Geralt of Rivia/The Witchers x Injured Reader.

Summary: Growing up in Kaer Morhen as a female Witcher was never easy, but you always had your brothers beside you. Although you only see them a few times a year, you are still close, trusting each other with your lives as you have done many times before. So what happens when your brother, and best friend, gets infected by a creature you dedicate your life to hunting?

Warnings: Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, angst, choking, near death, swearing, stabbing, weapons, loss/grief, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of a slow start.

Notes: This can be interpreted as completely platonic, or as a Geralt x reader, or Eskel x reader, it’s up to you to choose. This also takes place during S2E2 of the Netflix show.

Word count: 4.1K (it got a little out of hand...)

⭒ Masterlist ⭒

Kaer Morhen was far from silent. The snow had settled on the blue mountains casting a misty haze across the sky and the Witchers had retired home for the winter. They sat gathered round the dim firelit hall sipping on beer and sweetened mead as they boasted about their scars and the exciting stories behind them. Witchers were rare to stumble upon.The trials were dangerous and most people died before completing them. There were as little as 20 witchers left after the massacres, where many of the few men died. Female Witchers were incomparable, unheard of. The trials were nearly impossible for boys, let alone a young girl. Though, some spoke of a woman with eyes as golden as the blazing sun whose magic and strength was comparable to that of mages. A woman who not only passed the trials but exceeded trials beyond those alongside Geralt of Rivia.

You sat slumped against the table in the corner of the room with a dark beer in hand as you studied the scenes of your brothers before you. Many had not returned home. Being a Witcher was a dangerous art and not always a wanted one. You knew that. You could be killed or fatally injured at any unexpected moment. It’s why you all had to keep a keen eye out, a single slip up and it could be game over. Your golden eyes glazed over the men before you. You would be lying to say that your stomach knotted in the absence of Geralt and Eskel. You had grown close with the pair, Geralt had been there throughout your trials, easing you though the burning pain as the herbs coursed through your veins like fire and patching up wounds you could not. Eskel had helped train you to fight. He taught you to never give up. That you could do anything they could. Your enhanced senses meant that you could hear the rattling of the door handle before it slammed open and the muttering died down like a flame. A hooded figure stepped into the room. His pale hair fell in ragged ringlets in front of his face and his eyes that correlated yours melted from the piercing gaze they held as he pulled his hood down. Surprisingly, in tow was a young girl, perhaps around the same age you were when you began your trials.

“Here comes trouble.”

You leaned forwards in your seat as Lambert stood and approached Geralt.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He folded his arms.

“We thought you got lost. Or killed.” Coën jested.

Geralt's eyes softened and a smile crept onto his lips. “Not yet. Sorry.”

Lambert smiled before embracing his brother tightly. “Brother! I knew you’d make a fucking entrance.”

A tall figure lurked towards the front of the room. His hair was much like Geralt’s; it shimmered softly under the light and his eyes were much like yours. Upon his face his moustache and eyebrows were littered with greys.

“Wolf.” When he spoke his voice was firm though you could hear the relief. “You’re home. Finally.”

“Vesemir.” Geralt said, addressing the man. He was as close to a father as Geralt had. As close to a father as all of you had. The young girl who arrived with Geralt, clung to his side, anxiously, wrapped tightly in a fur shawl, which was so large that it tickled her rosy cheeks. Geralt gestured to her. “Had to make a few stops.”

“Hmm.”

A sort of uncomfortable silence encased the room as people waited for what would come next. The cracking of the flames was the only thing heard before you rose from your chair, the old wood creaking as it shifted, and made your way towards your brother. His face lit up with anticipation.

“Geralt of Rivia.” You chuckled. “You never fail to surprise.”

Geralt studied you carefully as you spoke. He noticed all of the new blemishes in your skin and the fresh scar that ran across your eyebrow and down your cheek. He took in your eyes and the way their yellow hues shifted in the light and the smile that was pressed on your lips. He admired your hair and the way you kept it; different from the last time he saw you, but still he liked it. He had missed you.

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

Your lips curved further upwards and your eyes glistened. “Too long.” You pulled him in close and welcomed the slow beating of his heart. He was alive.

“He’s home!” The tender moment was broken by the slamming of a knife in one of the tables followed by the rest of your brothers swarming the man.

It was darker still when the room continued to erupt with laughter at Lambert’s very animated retelling of one of his jobs. The young girl - Ciri, had made herself comfortable with a goblet, her face was lit up with an ecstatic grin. She reminded you much of yourself when you were her age. The wind howled outside, rattling against the door and pounding at the windows.

“Best job I had all year.” Lambert chuckled, taking another swig of his drink, spilling some of it down the side of his face and onto his shirt. He cursed and patted at it with a rag before tossing it back on the table.

Vesemir raised his goblet aloft. “Each of your faces is cause enough for celebration. You’re safe. You made it back. You made it home.”

A series of glasses and goblets were raised in agreement. You raised yours high, morning the missing face of Eskel and your other brother who didn’t make it.

“Here’s to another winter together.”

There were a number of murmurs and follow up toasts, the sound of glasses clinking together and chairs shuffling.

Geralt raised his cup “To the brothers. To our sister. To family.”

“To family” chortled everyone.

A strong draft rushed in as a booming voice sounded from the entrance to the hall. “To forgetting the fucking path! For one fucking night. Who’s ready?”

“Eskel!”

You rushed forwards and embraced him. His expression was tired and there was a thin sheen of sweat cascading across his brow. His dark hair fell across his face where it had fallen out of the tie he had scrapped it into.

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you furrowed your brow. “You look like day old shit.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your shoulder and making his way into the room “Yeah?You should see the other guy.”

Geralt eyed him as he stepped forwards, revealing the long, branchlike hand that was shoved into his bag.

“The bout lasted six hours. I’d have got the fucker too. If I hadn’t lost my elixirs.” He threw the bag on the floor. It landed with a thud which ricocheted throughout the silent room and unsettled the grime on the floor. “Took her hand though.”

“What’s that?” One of your brothers rolled the bag over with his foot. “Is that a leshy?”

“Walked like one. Talked like one. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” You queried, raising your brow.

“I haven’t crossed a leshy in a while.” Geralt said, turning the branch over in his calloused hands. “Not in Kaedwen.”

Eskel pulled down the hem of his coat slightly. It was long and green, frayed at the edges. Bloodied bandages poked through from underneath. “Well count yourselves lucky. Unless you’re aching for the sting of one of their fucking roots.”

“Fire through the heart is the only thing that puts one down.” Vesemir said firmly. “Six hours in, that didn’t occur to you?”

Laughter scattered about the room and Eskel’s face darkened as he made a beeline towards Ciri, who took a sip from her goblet, trying to avoid his gaze and retain her laughter. He made it pretty impossible not to when his face was inches from hers. “Who the hell are you?”

“Princess Cirilla of Cintra. Pleasure to meet you.”

He did not return the greeting, only glared at her for a brief moment before grunting and slipping away. You could tell that something was wrong.

~~~

Your sword rang loudly across the courtyard as it made contact with Geralt's. He grunted as you advanced forwards, forcing him back against one of the pillars. You smirked, pressing the sword closer to him. He shoved you backwards, using his extra strength to force you to the floor. The snow was cold on your body, despite the layers you were wearing as you rolled underneath him, grabbing his uninjured leg and pulling him down to the ground. Scrambling quickly to your feet you forced the sword from his hand.

“You’re getting sloppy, old man.” you chuckled.

“Or maybe I just let you win.”

Shaking your head, you held a calloused hand and helped him up from the ground.

“When you told us you called law of surprise, Vesemir and I told you ‘big mistake.’ You said you promised you wouldn’t claim the child.”

“I had to save her.”

“I know. And you knew I would call you out on it.”

Geralt hesitated and placed his sword in a sheath. “Yeah.”

Your eyes found their way to the floor, tracing the little indents in the snow carved by the shuffling of feet.

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Nothing.”

Geralt's stare spoke for him and you let out a deep sigh.

“Eskel. He’s acting strange.”

Geralt sighed and brushed the hair from his face. “I noticed it too.”

“I sense something is changing, Geralt. Keep Ciri close.”

~~~

Eskels party raved on as you sat, tucked away in the corner with a glass of mead observing the way the flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow over everyone's faces. The witchers swayed and danced and kissed with women from the nearby village. You observed how Eskel was fondled over desperately by a fair haired woman. He hollered and pulled his arm back protectively when she got a fraction too close to his wound that was no longer leaking crimson, but burned like fire. You watched how Geralt, who had been previously absent, walked briskly towards him with angry lines etched on his face. You edged closer, something was telling you this wouldn’t end well. And you were right, you rose quickly to your feet when Eskel got up in Geralt's face. When you pushed the two of them apart, Eskel eyed you angrily.

You could tell his shoulder was bothering him and that he was in more pain than he let on.

“You know, it's funny,” Eskel grunted at Geralt, “Me and the others, we come back here, all banged up. Rock troll busts Lambert's eye. A werewolf takes a chunk out of Coen’s arse…” Eskel’s gaze turned to you and he drank you in, lingering on the pink scar that ran along your face. “And Y/N… Y/N here gets her face torn up by a Bruxa. Was out for days.”

It’s clear from the way that Geralt watches you that you didn’t tell him that one. Eskel smirks and cocks his head. “Hmm, but looks like she didn’t tell you that one did she? And…what do you come back with? All i'm saying is when I find a princess, the last thing i'm gonna do is play knight.” he jested.

He swung at Geralt who quickly countered the punch and pulled his brother into a hold. You skidded to a halt besides the two trying to separate them. Eskel’s face was raging with anger, his eyes piercing like a thousand tiny daggers. “Eskel,” You told him sternly. “Do us a favour, and go to bed.” His teeth clenched and he pulled his hands into fists but before he could do anything, the woman pulled him away down a corridor and deep into the keep.

You turned to leave, to go back to your corner or to join another Witcher, expecting Geralt to return to Ciri or wherever he had been before he caused the stir, but instead he gripped your arm and forced you to face him. You looked at him inquisitively.

“Y/N…”

“Geralt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Bruxa?”

You turned away from him, walking back to your goblet. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“But you told Eskel?”

You whipped back around, his face was laced with concern and frustration. “I didn’t tell Eskel. He was there.”

“He was hunting it with you? Then why didn’t he stop it before you got hurt? I swear to the gods-”

“Geralt. Stop. He found me… we were both coincidentally hunting the same Bruxa.”

“You hate Bruxae.” Geralt stated.

You hummed and sipped your drink. “There was a rumour about a local village being attacked by a vampire. Things had been slow and the pay was good, so I went to check it out. You know Bruxa, they’re quick and she got me from behind. Winded me and pinned me down so I couldn’t get to my weapons. Took a chunk out my face with her claws and nearly drunk me dry. That’s when Eskel found me. He shot her down and took me to an Inn. He saved my life Geralt. I can never repay him for that.”

It was the high pitch buzzing followed by the rapid vibrating of the medallion slung over your neck that caused your head to snap up. Everyone stopped. A low, guttering rumbling spread its way across the room.

“Maybe Eskel’s leshy wants its hand back.” Coën said.

Vesemir’s golden eyes scanned the room, trying to follow the pattering and heaving creaking. “Wield your wits, kids.”

Everything seemed to happen very quickly. Everyone scattered to keep Kaer Morhen safe, darting between corridors and brandishing themselves with their weapons. You slipped away from the crowd to try and find Eskel, if he was preoccupied and didn’t notice, or it was his leshy, he was in trouble, and you felt as though you owed him protection. Geralt, to your surprise, joined you in the eerily silent corridors. You had a feeling he wanted to get to Ciri, but knew he was needed in the fight or, perhaps after your story about the Bruxa, he felt as though he needed to stay by your side.

The weight of your sword was comfortable in your hand as you released it from its sheath, it was almost like an extension of your body; an arm made of silver, a protector, a deadly limb. The sound of your footsteps mixed with the steady drip of water seeping through one of the many spidering cracks in the tall ceilings. Sometimes they seemed never ending as though there was no escape from Kaer Morhen, you would be trapped in its walls forever. A low rumbling ricocheted throughout the keep, shaking the walls and blowing out some of the sconces, plunging more of the halls into darkness. You gripped your sword tighter.

The grand oak doors creaked as Geralt forced them open. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight which flooded in from the skylight and from the chandeliers which swung wildly on their hinges. The pair of you edged your way inside, your eyes and ears sharp as you scanned the room.

“Oh God…” You recoiled. On the left side of the room, the girl Eskel had been with was pinned against the wall, suffocated by a thick rope of branches. One protruded awkwardly from her mouth, a river of blood coating her chin and the offending branches. There was a thud, and you raised your sword aloft to slice through the thick vine that darted out towards you. A second one raced towards Geralt, who sliced through it as though it was butter. The pair of you readied your swords, turning to watch each other's backs and making your way further into the centre of the room. Glinting as it caught the light, your sword swung to destroy another branch, which had made to grab your ankle. The room was silent for a worrying moment. Then, the two of you were assaulted from all sides. The leshy growled as its arms attacked from all sides, breaking walls and bending the wooden framing of the windows. The pair of you swung your swords with precision, slicing and ducking to avoid a deadly ending, though no matter how hard you tried, the two of you were outnumbered. One of the vines, as thick as your arm, wound itself around Geralt, slamming him against the wall with a grunt, out of your reach.

“Geralt!” You cried, trying to make your way over to him in vain, whilst dancing between the onslaught of vines. You could see the witcher struggling, wheezing and clawing at the second branch slivering across his neck, binding him to the stone pillar. You could see him straining, his hands struggling to grip the sconce that hung just out of reach, mocking him. The branches’ attack ceased for a moment, as the leshy rolled in. It was tall and spindly with a humanoid face that looked very pissed off. Geralt dropped beside you as the creature squealed in pain; he had managed to burn the wood with the sconce, casing it to drop him to the ground. With your face stony, you pointed your sword at the leshy. With the help of the flames from Geralt's sconce, the pair of you backed it behind a table. Geralt jabbed the flames at the creature, which caused the bark of its skin to blister and it to growl. When it turned its head towards you, your face dropped.

Staring back at you were the piercing, green eyes of another witcher. “Eskel?”

It came out as less than a whisper, your voice betraying you, revealing the fear behind your mask.

“Y/N…” Eskel panted back. “Geralt.”

The leshy, Eskel, grunted in pain as it stood, tossing the table it hid behind to the side. Geralt dropped the flames and held his sword in front of him. It was only seconds before Eskel was firing vines and the pair of you. Geralt thrust his sword downwards, deep into one of the branches coming towards him. Eskel howled in pain and tossed his brother back into the doors before turning towards you. Desperate to get away from the danger, you rolled across one of the benches. The branches shot over you as you backed away. You were about to strike again, when two protruded from the walls and gripped both of your arms, yanking you backwards against a second cold bench. Two more slithered around your ankles, pinning you to the piece of furniture. They were harsh, thick with thorns and rough surfaces that scratched against your skin. You grunted, squirming to get free, but you were stuck.

“Eskel.” You strained, “I don’t want to hurt you…please.”

The leshy bent over, towering above you so that you could see the scarring on the wooden version of Eskel’s face. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t the witty, gruff voice you were used to, but a fragile, pained whisper. “I came back here…I knew something was wrong.” He swallowed thickly, struggling with his words as you struggled against him with gritted teeth. Where was Geralt? What had Eskel done to him? “I don’t know what happened...”

One of the leshys arms jabbed itself into your shoulder, drawing ribbons of crimson blood. You screwed your face up and bit back a scream.

“I thought I could fight it.” Another branch into the same shoulder. You groaned and clenched your jaw. The next few words were broken and hard to understand, you weren’t sure if it was because of the hazy pain you were in, or because Eskel was struggling against the leshy. Probably both. “I thought…you could help me like I helped you…”

Eskel stared at you, before turning away and screeching loudly. Vessemir stood in the doorway, his sword sheathed behind his back and a javelin which he had just thrown lodged inside the bark of the creature, Geralt stood beside him, weapon at the ready. It yanked it out and ascended into the ceiling as Vessemir removed his sword and began to cut the vines from around you.

“What is this?” He grumbled, pulling you up to your feet.

“It’s Eskel.” Geralt replied. “The leshy’s infected him.”

Vesemir faltered. “But that’s not possible.”

‘

“That’s what we thought.”

The room creaked, the ceiling cracked and the chandeliers swayed as the three of you circled the room. You held your weapon in your off hand as you nursed your injured shoulder. When the leshy’s failed attacks wore thin, it descended from its place in the ceiling and made a beeline for the door. The elder witcher was quick to notice and ordered Geralt to shield them shut. Pissed that its simple escape route was no more, Eskel stalked towards Geralt, albeit didn’t make it very far because you and Vesemir assaulted him with chains that were pinned to the walls. The hooks dug into the bark, keeping him in place. You wound them tightly as he thrashed, suspending him off the ground. Vessemir’s attempts to calm him, telling him you could save him were futile. He just knocked the man to the side, attacking him with lengths of branches, sending him careening to the side.

“Hey!” You yelled, stabbing one of the branches with the point of your sword. The creature turned its attention back to you. It vines wrapped themselves around you, suffocating you in a bone crushing grip. One hooked itself around your neck like a python, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt as though your head might fall off from your body. Eskel cocked his head and studied you closely, his eyes twinkled. No amount of yelling or distraction could draw his attention away from you. He was hooked, conflicted between wanting to kill you and wanting help.

“Eskel…” You wheezed, “Please…stop.”

You were completely unaware of the distressed calls of the other witchers and the hum of Geralt's sword as he cast a spell over it, causing it to glow white hot. You were absorbed by the face of your brother as the branches tightened around your body. Your lungs burned and you tried to suck in air, much to the protest of your ribs, which cracked and shifted uncomfortably. It was when that coppery taste flooded your senses and blood fell from your mouth that you stopped struggling. Your vision blurred as you choked, gasping and spluttering. Your ears rang and white spots obscured your vision as you stared blankly up at Eskels face. When Geralt drove his sword into the leshy’s heart, your body slumped to the floor.

“Y/N!” Geralt was quick to your side, rolling you over to face him, agitating the raw wound on your shoulder. You cried out in pain.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “ he hushed, taking you in. He eyed nervously the blood that was seeping from your mouth and ears, some streaming down your nose. There were angry bruises already forming on your neck and winding around your body. As your spluttering began to cease, your eyes began to flutter shut.

“No. No, no, no, no. Keep those eyes open.” Geralt pleaded. You whimpered as he pulled you into his arms, holding you securely to his body. Your head lolled against him as your eyes fluttered. You missed his call to Vesemir, who led Geralt down the hall. You missed the anxious calls of your brothers, who were aghast to see your condition. You didn’t see the way that Geralt’s face contorted at your pained whimpers and the scattering of people trying to make room for you. You missed it all as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

When you awoke and your eyes had adjusted to the light, the first thing you were aware of was the dull pain that radiated throughout your body. A throbbing ache mixed with a sharp stabbing pain. The second was the anxious, golden eyed stare of Geralt of Rivia.

“You’re awake.” He whispered, as though he were trying to convince himself.

You groaned as you tried to sit up, ignoring the pain in your shoulder and across your ribs. There was still a slight wheeze to your breath.

“Easy,” He told you. “You took quite a beating.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke, dry from lack of water. “How long…?”

“A few days. We had to lace you with elixirs…” Geralt sighed deeply. “You had us so worried, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry.” You muttered. In that moment, you remembered something, like someone had turned on a light. “Eskel?”

Geralt shook his head. “Gone. I’m sorry.”

You nodded solemnly. You knew that the chances of saving him were slim, through a rough tear spilled from your eyes.

��It’s okay.” Geralt placed a hand on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by a bloodied bandage. “It’s okay. We still have each other. We have our brothers. We will be okay.”

————

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redd956 · 11 months

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Whump Prompt List: NMA Edition

Based off of my NMA worldbuilding line

AKA Whump that @demondamage would like. AKA: nonhuman whumpees, experiment whump, medical whump, lab whump

CW: Violence, Hospital Whump, Experiment Whump, Nonhuman whumpees, Death Mention, Needles

Draining whumpee's blood in order to centrifuge a special resource from it

Hooking whumpee up to an IV that contains some form of sedative, paralytic, or similar formula inside of it

A physically powerful whumpee needing to be held down by a group, as a sedative is forcefully entered into their system

Whumpee watching their blood exit their veins through a tube, knowing theirs nothing they can do, slowly realizing that they're taking too much

Whumpee getting their blood drained, not knowing if their captors are going to stop before it's too late, or if they plan to get rid of whumpee this way after all

Filing down whumpee's sharp teeth, their pointed claws, sawing off their horns, tying down their tail. Whatever needs to be done to keep the nonhuman whumpee from having an advantage.

Whumpee being kept sedated or out of it, until they are needed for their magic

Muzzled and/or restrained whumpee lashing out at the doctors analyzing

Whumpee's every nonhuman aspect being analyzed, their privacy completely invaded, as doctors poke and prod, crooning over their find

A group of whumpees are captures, and they all fear the worse. However after one is found to be more rare than the others, they quickly discover that for one of them, it's going to be much much worse.

Multiple whumpees getting separated based off of the research that needs to be conducted on them

A limp whumpee, kept down for research, needing to be moved or treated as a comatose patient since the doctors dealing with them are too scared of their abilities

Testing to see what whumpee reacts painfully too, how they heal from the different things tested on them, watching them slowly grow terrified of the scientist opening their door

Taking a marker to whumpee's skin and going to town, preparing for the next set of plans

Forcing whumpee to use their magic or nonhuman abilities far past their limit

Whumpee growing more and more tired as they loose their magic/blood, watching the world darken and the noise of life muffle

Doctors taunting and teasing a heavily restrained whumpee. Whumpee, who is normally such a dangerous creature, can do nothing as they pull on their tail or forcibly spread out their wings

Hands latching onto whumpee's face, moving their head into the position they need to

Whumpee waking to the feeling of fingers prodding for the perfect injection spot

Strapping whumpee down to a table, the doctor admiring their work, thinking they'd never see a nonhuman of this type to work on

Whumpee being returned to a cell full of other nonhuman whumpees after a finish experiment, being plopped down unceremoniously in front of the others, before the doctor looks up to pick the next one

Tattooing whumpee to know what experiment group they belong to

Holding an oxygen mask to whumpee's face, watching as the mist of a sedative kicks in

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whumpninja · 16 days

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Ask Me About…Medieval Fantasy Whump!

Hear ye, hear ye! By order of His/Their Majesty Jack Ninja, the good people of Whumpcommunityshire shall be bestowed with ye olde medieval fantasy ask game, handcrafted to match this most illustrious genre. Any and all whump blogs are hereby royally invited to reblog! Foresooth and alas, and so on!

Okay, that’s enough of that. Here’s the second game for this project…three days late, but who’s counting? I’m taking suggestions for next week’s- while this Friday’s is decided, after it goes up I’m going to start doing polls to pick the next genre. So if you have an idea, send it in! Major genres only please, don’t get too specific- save that for the custom ask games! Which are still going up. Eventually.

Warning: these are whumpy questions, so they involve some dark content! Torture, weapons, et cetera.

Taglist: @sleepyiswhumping

QUESTIONS FOR WHUMPEE

🥘- what’s your favorite meal in your medieval world? How long has it been since you had it?

👑- what do you think of the current ruler? If you are the current monarch, what do you think of the common folk?

⛓️- have you ever been locked in a dungeon/put in the stocks/undergone medieval torture/some other historical type of punishment?

🦄- have you ever seen a wondrous beast (unicorn, dragon, griffin, etc.)? If you haven’t (or if your world doesn’t have them) which one would you like to see one day?

🧚- have you ever been hurt with magic?

🍻- do you have friends or family still alive? How long has it been since you’ve seen them?

🧜- can you use magic? If not, what would you do if you could?

QUESTIONS FOR WHUMPER

🧪- what’s the worst/your favorite medieval thing you’ve ever done to Whumpee?

🏰- where do you live? A castle? A manor? A townhouse? A shack?

🫅- what class do you fit into in the feudal system? Are you a peasant, a merchant, a member of the clergy, a knight, a noble, or perhaps even royalty?

⚔️- what weapons do you know how to wield?

🔮- what’s your opinion on magic?

🛡️- do you have minions/henchpeople/underlings/an army?

♟️- are you a good strategist?

QUESTIONS FOR CARETAKER

🕯️- how did you rescue/first meet Whumpee?

🧙- do you know any healing magic/spells? If magic doesn’t exist in your world, do you believe in any folk healing practices/old wives’ tales?

🧌- what would you do if you encountered Whumper?

🫖- how do you feel about the rich/the nobility/royalty?

🍞- can you cook? What’s your favorite thing to cook, if you can? If not, what’s your favorite thing to eat? Have you made it for Whumpee yet?

🧝‍♂️- do you have any non-human blood in you? If not, do you know anyone who does? If your world only has humans, what’s your favorite story about mystical creatures?

🏹- do you have any experience with weapons?

#whump #medieval whump #fantasy whump #magic whump #whump ask game #ask me about #jack be whumpy

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the-depths-au · 4 months

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FAQ

*this post continues heavy totk spoilers

How did it start?

A lot of people started posting some really cool art of a TotK ending where Zelda returns as a hybrid dragon creature thing. I saw a few that called it a “bad” ending and I noticed she was often portrayed with dominantly human-features just like, with horns or a tail, or the purple eyes, etc. I love to play video games(clearly) and I enjoy the challenge of seeing various endings, not just “secret endings” (think Heavy Rain, Until Dawn, The Witcher 3, Drakengard- anyone else play this?) I got to thinking about how her coming back didn’t really like a true “bad ending”. To me, a bad ending, really, would be one in which she didn’t get to magically, miraculously come back in any form. A bad ending to me would be Mineru’s warning held true. And in doing so, it would become The Legend of Zelda because she becomes the stuff of myths. Of true Legend. Fulfilling destiny (botw-era and the series as a whole). My brain sort of took off from there regarding the implications this would have on Hyrule and specially, our boy Link.

How could you! A Bad ending? Is this story at least hurt and eventual comfort??? Does it have a happy ending??

I could tag this hurt and comfort, but usually people who read these types of stories have certain expectations of what “comfort” is (and that’s okay!). Same with a “happy” ending. I don’t need stories to be wrap up in a bow with warmth to enjoy them. Honestly, some of the stories that have touched me the most over the years have had “sad” endings/negative character arcs/tragedy. That being said, I don’t particularly enjoy pure whump, either. What I feel is most important and what I am to do with this story, is to make any suffering meaningful. With purpose. And hopefully- maybe- you’ll see the “comfort” that is possible even in these types of stories.

Wait! So Zelda remains a dragon?

Yes. They defeat the demon dragon. Rauru and Sonia appear in a silent thanks, then they disappear and Link falls from the sky alone into the water. The Light Dragon continues along in her flight above him.

Link is also the only one who can see/has ever seen the Light Dragon.

Are there any other major changes from TotK?

It follows the game pretty closely. It’s just hard to say exactly what is in this story from TotK because there is just so much. In BotW, I headcanon Link took his time. He doesn’t remember anything. He is alone, lost, and the world is a vast, broken place. Therefore, it is plausible/ realistic in my head for all the side questions to be done prior to the ending being reached. In TotK, especially with the headcanon he and Zelda were together in the time between BotW and TotK, I had a hard time imagining Link would waste much time on anything unnecessary to save Zelda. So, with this in mind, I’ve had to justify the side questions to include in the story. Link’s journey is a bit different than my own. Whereas I actually spent 80% of my playthrough exploring the depths, this Link only went down when necessary. Meaning many of the lightroots have not been unlocked and he only has part of the armor of the depths. In the Linktober and the early concept, he has the entire set but this has been changed for the main comic.

How far after the events of TotK does this take place?

Five years.

Is it completely planned out?

Yes. I have a complete rough story outline done. It’s 17 chapters. I am anticipating some editing as I go, but regardless, it’s a big project. A huge shout out to @zeldaelmo and @fioreofthemarch for helping me get the story set. They are both phenomenal writers for the LoZ fandom so be sure to check them out!

What happened to the comic?

I made the decision to tell this story (initially) in writing. I have a very specific style in mind for this story as a full comic and honestly, I just don't feel like my artistic ability and overall proficiency is where I want it to be at this time. I'm still learning! I will be continuing to post art, concept art, and some comic panels here as I go and eventually, I would love to adapt the story into a full comic, but for now, I'll be telling the main story in writing.

How long have you been drawing?

I’ve been drawing all my life. Just for fun, although I took a few classes in school. Digitally, self-taught, since fall 2022. Still very new to this with lots to learn! I have a minor in creative writing and feel much more confident and comfortable with that.

Feel free to send me a DM with questions anytime! I plan to update this periodically.

Last updated 2/26/24

#FAQ

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tashacee · 6 months

Note

You said you’d made aspect of grace to be a lot whumpier at first

*Looks right*

*Looks left*

You uh, you still got that whumpier version?/j

Genuinely though, what was it originally like?

Let me look through my drive, see if i can find the rough draft lmao

Okay, turns out i still have the entire original chapter and DAMN it is whump. OOFT.

Also originally the lizalfos that killed Wild was straight up Dink. I forgot about that.

Anyway, I'll put it under the cut if you're interested :)

Wind knelt beside wild, numb, his mind refusing to process, refusing to accept the terrible truth in front of him. Around him he could see movement, hear his brothers shouting, feel someone grab his arm and try to jolt him out of his stupor, but he didn’t pay them any heed.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The world had stopped turning and all the colour had been drained from the world around him

Because wild was dead.

It had been a normal day, like any other. No, scratch that, it had been better than that. It had been a great day. The sun had been shining and despite the cool autumn morning they had all relished in it, stripping cloaks and coats and enjoying the rare day of quiet sunlight. They were crossing a wide expanse of wetlands, the sunlight reflecting off of the water as all of their boots and socks were soaked through, but despite a few token complaints, no one much minded.

It was a good day. They were all happy and high spirited, cracking jokes and grinning and messing about, Wind most of all.

Any other day he wouldn’t have grabbed the slate from wild’s hip. Any other day he wouldn’t have cackled and dashed off, waving it in the air in the world’s most childish game of ‘keep away’ he could manage.

Wild had yowled in protest and dashed after him, but fast as the cat man was, wind had a head start and was determined to mess about in the way that only a little brother could.

The others had joined in. When wild had been about to catch him, wind tossed the slate to wars, who nimbly caught it and took over running away, laughing all the time. Wild had been laughing too, yipping in amusement as well as giving the rumble that Wind was pretty sure was his version of swearing.

If he had really been mad, wind would have stopped. None of them would have gone on. But he was laughing. He was having fun.

Wars three the slate to Hyrule, who threw it to Twilight, who wind feared for a moment would give it back to Wild. But the Rancher just threw it back to Wind, sticking his tongue out at his brother while the others crowed in laughter, and wind bolted off again.

It was a good day.

And then it wasn’t.

The lizalfos had seemed to come from nowhere. It must have been hiding in the space between some rocks, waiting for them to approach. That was the thing about black blooded monsters, they were so much more clever, so much more intelligent, and this one seemed so much more than most.

It sprang out, teeth bared, jagged blade drawn. Its eyes glowed red against the oily black of its scales, and it radiated a dark magic so thick that wind could taste it in the air. He shouted in surprise and tried to leap out of the way, but his foot caught on a submerged root and he stumbled.

He went sprawling, dropping the slate in the mud as he fell and landing face first in the water. He barely rolled over in time to miss the next blow from the lizalfos’ blade. He tried to scramble to his feet, to get his bearings. He needed to move, to defend himself - he reached for his sword but he was of kilter, his hands were shaking and he fumbled. The lizalfos swung-

And it’s bland was blocked, parried away as a massive shape dove in front of him. Wild, his sword drawn as he repelled back the creature’s blade, teeth bared and growling.

Where were the others? Where they really that far behind?

There was no time to stop, no time to think. Wind finally got his grip on his sword and shield, ready to dove in and help his brother, but it was too late.

The lizalfos swung again. Wild blocked him again with his sword, but it was an old, worn thing from his own era, and it couldn’t take the strain. The blade shattered, and seeing the opportunity, the lizalfos lunged again.

And it’s blade met fur and flesh and bone. And wild made a sound, small and breathy and pained, his eyes widening in shock.

Wind surged forwards, kicking the lizalfos backwards and swinging at it wildly as the others finally reached their position. Wars, legend, and time leapt into battle with him, pressing on the beast as behind them Hyrule rushed to wild’s side.

It was only one lizalfos. Even black blooded, it shouldn’t have been as fierce, as intelligent as it was. It shouldn’t have looked like it was smiling. It shouldn’t have cackled when time finally ran it through, and rather than dissolving to dust like a normal monster, fading away like a shadow in the sunlight.

Something told wind that it wasn’t gone for good, but it was gone for now and that was good enough for him. Shuddering, he dropped his sword and spun around, running to where he had left Wild. He would be fine, they’d all been stabbed before, but wild was strong! He was hardy, he would be fine-

He was lying in the water, limp and unmoving. Twilight has pulled his head and shoulders onto his knees and was bent double over him, his face screwed up and sobbing. Beside him, Hyrule sat pale faced and horrified, his hands at his side. Why wasn’t he doing something? Why wasn’t he healing him?

The fur on wild’s torso was matted with blood, the water around him stained a horrible red. He wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t breathing

“Wild!” Wind ran forwards, grabbing his hand. “Hyrule help him! Do something!”

Hyrule just shook his head, tears beginning to slip over his cheeks. Wind knew why. He could see it plain as day, could see the gaping wound through Wild’s chest, knew that it was not an injury anyone could survive. Still, even as all of his brothers knelt around them, saw the terrible sight and understood the horrible truth, Wind could not accept it. Would not accept it.

So he knelt there, staring at his unmoving brother, holding his hand and not caring as the frigid water soaked into his trousers.

Wild was dead, and he just couldn’t accept it.

After Wild’s first adventure, the gifts given to him by his fellow champions had faded. His old friends had moved on, after all, their spirits finally getting to rest after so long in limbo, and one by one their gifts left the space where they had rested in his soul.

Wild was okay with this. Much as he missed them, much as he missed the powers they gave him, he was glad that they were finally at peace.

Mipha was the last to linger, and he wasn’t really that surprised. Her caring instinct had always been strong and she had always wanted to help.

Then the weeks turned into months. And the months turned into years. And somehow, although he couldn’t quite feel her presence, there was still a sense of… something. Something that felt like gentle healing and and glowed a soft blue. Not the presence of a spirit, but the tender touch of a blessing.

know this: that no matter how difficult this battle might get... if you—if anyone ever tries to do you harm... Then I will heal you.

Zelda theorised that it was the final gift of the Zora princess. That even though she herself had moved on, the healing power of her Grace had remained, in one form or other. Even with the scant few memories of Mipha that Wild had, he was inclined to agree.

This said, he had never been particularlykeen to try it out. Mipha’s Grace had only ever activated when he had been injured badly enough to be at the point of death, and funnily enough he wasn’t overly eager to get to that point. It was enough to feel her blessing, however strong it may be, and to know that she had found peace.

Now, though, Wild floated in a limbo.

He wasn’t entirely clear on how he had ended up in this foggy, dark place. Someone had been in danger, someone important to him, and he had acted on impulse to save them. He had saved them, this important person, he was certain of that, but in the process he had gotten himself badly hurt.

He was dying. He knew that. And something about that was familiar.

He floated there, in that dark limbo, neither warm nor cold, neither feeling pain nor comfort, neither seeing nor blind, and he wondered vaguely why he was still here. He was no longer in his body, of that he was certain, but neither was he moving on.

Why was he not moving on?

Maybe something else had to happen first.

He waited, and inside of him something soft and blue began to pulse and itch. Around his chest, he felt something begin to come together.

This was also familiar, but he was sure that whatever it was used to be faster, stronger.

Huh.

He waited, patient in the darkness, and then all of a sudden hhis awareness came back to him with a terrible clarity. He was Link - wild! - and he had been trying to save Wind. He had taken a sword to the chest to save his brother and he was dying, should be dead already -

But swirling around him, in the soft darkness of death, was a ribbon of blue energy, oh so softly knitting his wounds together. Mipha. Her grace, her final blessing, still saving his life so long after she had left hers behind. It would take longer, without the strength of her spirit to guide the healing, and it would not be as complete as it had been in the past. It would, he knew now, save him from death.

He couldn’t believe that he had been given such a gift. If such a thing was possible in this strange, limbo space, he would have wept.

Instead he waited for an indeterminate amount of time for the healing to be done.

And then he opened his eyes.

Every ounce of him hurt.

It wasn’t really the nicest feeling to wake up to, but given that he was waking up at all, he didn’t really feel as if he had the right to complain. In the past when Mipha had healed him he had come around almost instantly, his wounds fully healed and his energy restored, but it didn’t look like that would be happening any more. He was saved from the brink of death, but he still had plenty of wounds that needed healed.

And damnit, they hurt.

He wanted to groan but he wasn’t quite there yet, wasn’t quite ready to fully control his body. Everything felt so heavy. Instead he focused on grounding himself, on figuring out his surroundings, on what was happening around him.

He was lying on his back, on the ground. No not quite on the ground, someone had laid out a blanket underneath him. One of his softest blankets, if he was feeling it right. Aw, guys! He couldn’t help but feel touched that they had done that for him even when-

Oh. Oh right. They probably all thought he was dead. There was no telling how long he had been out while Mipha healed him. Shit.

Well, at least he hadn’t been buried yet. He really didn’t fancy climbing out of his own grave.

Again.

He focused on more of his surroundings. He could feel someone clutching his hand, their head pressed against his knuckles as they sobbed silently. Against his other side a small figure was curled up and also crying, less silently. WInd? And maybe Twilight?

This wasn’t good. He needed to move, to tell them that he was okay. He tried to put some strength into his aching muscles but he was still too groggy, his mind felt like he was swimming through a haze, his body not obeying his orders.

In the background, he could hear the crackle of a fire, but no one was speaking. He thought that he could hear a few more people crying, and someone moving something metal, was that a ladle on a cookpot? They weren’t trying to cook, were they? It was bad enough that Wild had died, now they wanted to give themselves food poisoning?

Wild tried to move again and was not successful, but did manage to push a low whine out of his throat.

THe hand holding Wild’s tightened and the sobbing stopped abruptly. To his side, the small figure that he was certain was wind sat up, moving close to his face.

“Wild?” Wind’s voice asked, horribly rough and choked with tears.

Wild was still too weak to move, but he whined again and managed to get his eyelids to flutter, his vision blurry but just about focusing on the tear stained faces of Twilight and Wind. Hylia they looked awful, their faces pale and drawn, their hair a mess. They were both covered in blood, both red and black, and looked like it had never occurred to them to clean off.

WIld whined again, and Wind shot to his feet.

“HYRULE!” He all but screamed. “Hyrule hurry up! He’s alive! Wild’s alive!”

There was a commotion at the other side of the camp as several of the chain shouted in disbelief. Wild focused on Twilight as the rest of his brothers rushed over, managing to tilt his head to butt at his brother’s knee and rumbling softly.

Twilight’s face crumpled into a smile and he began to cry again, throwing his arms around Wild’s shoulders and burying himself into a hug. Wild couldn’t lie, it hurt, but he didn’t mind and leaned into it as best he could. On his other side, Hyrule had all but thrown himself on the ground beside him, tear-streaked and breathless, his eyes wide with hope and amazement.

Wild looked around and met his eyes, purring weakly in greeting. Hyrule gasped and covered his mouth and then set about looking over Wild’s wounds.

“Twilight.” came Warriors’ voice, thich with emotion, “Come on, you can still hold his hand but you need to sit up so Rulie can look over him.” the Captain appeared in the periphery of Wild’s vision, gently peeling the Rancher back and helping him sit up.

Twi sniffed in an extremely undignified manner and knuckled the tears from his face, laughing weakly as he took Wild’s hand again. He squeezed it, and Wild squeezed back, rumbling softly.

He could see the rest of the chain hovering around the edges of his vision, watching and waiting with baited breath as Hyrule looked over his injuries. The slash across his chest was still there, though no longer so deep, and the myriad smaller cuts and bruises across his body were still open and burning.

The familiar pulse of Hyrule’s magic began to wash across his chest, slowly closing the wound and easing the worst of the pain. While no longer life threatening, it was still deep, and clearly too much for Hyrule to heal all at once, and with the main injury more or less closed he sighed heavily and flopped down next to Wild, exhausted. He turned to look at him, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, and buried himself into his side, sobbing.

Wild purred and carefully lifted his arm to stroke Hyrules hair as the Traveller burrowed in closer to his side.

“I think.” Came legend’s voice from beside Hyrule. Wild looked around and was surprised to see that even the bitter, caustic Veteran had tear tracks down his cheeks. “I think that means that Wild is well enough for us all to give him hell for that shock.”

Wild whined softly - the slash in his chest may have closed, but he still felt sore and exhausted. But Legend was smiling as he spoke and reached down to ruffle Wild’s hair. “Glaad to have you back. Don’t know how we would have broken the news to the citizens of cat island.”

Wild snorted and shook him off. Legend cleared his throat and looked away, looking suspiciously like he was blinking back tears.

“Come on, guys, give the idiot space. He’s just come back from the dead, he doesn’t need us climbing all over him.” Legend smiled and moved away, cheeks flushed with emotion. He pulled some of the others with him, Warriors and Four and Sky all pausing to squeeze Wild’s arm, shoulder, to tell him how glad they were to have him back before retreating to the campfire. At Legend’s urging, Hyrule stumbled up too and let the Veteran guide him over to his own bedroll where he could rest properly.

Almost immediately, Wind threw himself back into Wild’s side. Wild squealed as he jostled his wounds and Time, still in his full armour, still dishevelled and battle-worn, put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Sailor, go easy on him.”

Wind squirmed and pulled back a little, his face tearful as he looked at Wild. “I’m so sorry.” he whispered, gently setting a slightly muddy sheikah slate next to Wild. “If I hadn’t stolen it I wouldn’t have tun on ahead and you wouldn’t have - you wouldn’t have gotten hurt-”

Wild whined and turned slightly out of Twilight’s grip to nuzzle at the sailor, ignoring the pain that flared up through his chest as he moved. Rumbling softly, he disentangled his arms from his brothers’ grips to try a shaky sign.

“All good. Not you. Me. My-” dammit, he didn’t know the word for ‘choice’. Ugh, whatever. Moving on. “Wind. Brother. Family. Safe.” that would have to do, he didn’t know any more sign and he was getting exhausted.

“The only person at fault was that damn lizard.” Time repeated soothingly. “Go and get some water, will you, Wind? WIld probably needs a drink.”

Wild nodded and gave a thumbs up, and glad to be useful, Wind dashed off.

Now alone with just Time and Twi, Wild exhaled heavily. He understood why his brothers were so emotional, he was feeling pretty emotional himself, but he was really too tired to taake it all in.

Time sat down beside him. “You really were dead, weren’t you cub?” he asked. On wild’s other side, Twilight shuddered. Wild nodded. “But you came back. Did you know you would? Or do you know how?”

Wild shrugged weakly and then nodded. He didn’t know for sure it would happen, hadn’t even thought about it when he dove in front of the lizalfos, just acted. But he knew exactly what it was. Who it was.

Time’s face softened and he squeezed Wild’s hand. “Well I’m looking forward to you being able to explain, but for now let’s just get you comfortable. Okay?”

Wild mewled as Time began to pull out and set up his bedroll and myriad blankets next to him. Wild shuffled as Twi helped him to sit up, scratching at his scars. They itched like hell, and he had never been more relieved at how easy it was to unclasp his prosthetic and dump it on the ground beside him. Ah, sweet relief.

He let Twilight help him into his newly made up bed and happily collapsed into it, barely able to draw up the energy to knead with his free hand. Twi curled up beside him, unwilling and unable to leave him alone after the day they both had had. As they settled down, Wind came trotting back over with a cup of water and wide, anxious eyes.

Wild sipped at the drink and then seeing that Wind was still shifting nervously from foot to foot, held out an arm in invitation. Well. He tried. It was his right arm, which he had recently discarded, so he was actually just wiggling his stump. Still, Wind understood the invitation and immediately dove in beside him.

“I’m really glad you’re not dead.” he whispered, and both Time and Twilight snorted.

“I think we can all agree on that one.” Time replied. “Get some sleep, Wild. Boys, go easy on him, yeah? Hyrule wouldn’t appreciate you wearing him out. Nor would Wild, i’m sure, for that matter.”

Wild chuffed and burrowed down into his blankets. Wind curled in tighter, curling his legs around his brother’s. Wild wanted nothing more than to sleep, to get some rest, but there was one last thing to do.

He rumbled and leaned into twilight, nuzzling at his hair.

Brother he was saying brother. Okay. safe. Brother.

Twilight sniffed and looked up at him, smiling. He gently butted back. Idiot brother. Scared! Sad! He burrowed in closer, digging his hands into his fur.

Wild rumbled and pulled him in. Safe brother safe. Safe nowSafe. Twilight repeated, safe. Brother. Family. Safe.

#it me #replies #hero’s aspect au #hero's aspect #linked universe fic #linked universe fanfic #my writing

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