#stranded whumpee

[hhabaddon]

June of Doom (Day 25)

Prompt list [here] || Previous / Next

Prompt(s); “Don’t move!” | Natural Disaster | Stranded | Drowning

This has been one of my favorites so far, so enjoy!! :)

TW // non-descriptive character death/suicide, implied drowning, being stranded, flood (world wide)

—-

“Don’t move!” growled Character, “I’ll be back!”

Whumpee nodded, eyes wide. There had been a flood. It started slowly at first. He had heard news of lower areas of the country being flooded, but it was supposed to go away within the year. Then came reports of houses in the valley being flooded. Then, his basement had flooded, his garage, the main floor of his house. 

Him and his friend, Character, had left the area, got to higher ground. They traveled around for a year, but still, the water level was predicted to go down. And, yeah, of course he had heard of people being trapped on hills or stranded on the rooves of buildings, but he never thought it would be him. He never thought Character would leave him.

Character and Whumpee had gotten stuck on the roof of a house when they went to lower ground, which was a risky move on their part. Character had seen a hill on the other side, higher than the one they were on. They had been jumping from roof-to-roof and decided to stop for the night. The water rose slower these days, so they thought they’d be okay. When they awoke, it was just barely creeping onto the roof, but the gap between the houses had gotten too big, and they weren’t able to travel anymore. They sat around for a while, trying to find a solution, when a small scouting boat had appeared.

Whumpee had watched as Character got on the boat – that could only hold one more person – and left, promising they would be back for him. 

Whumpee looked down at his feet, the water barely brushing the tips of his shoes, now. He waited for Character. For three days. By then he had given up. Even at the highest point of the house, the water nearly reached his knees. And Whumpee stood there, cold and shivering, for six more hours, before he wasn’t able to stand anymore. His legs had gone numb, and with night approaching, he would die either way. 

He made up his mind. He kissed his pendant, a gift from Character, and, with it still clutched in his hand, fell into the freezing cold water, and let his mind go blank.

June of Doom Masterlist [here]

#writer #creative writer #creative writing #june of doom #juneofdoom #whump #whumpee #ficddon #writeblr #stranded whumpee #tw character death

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Seas No More

Sigh Not So | Secrets Hid Away | Shed Tears Aplenty | Fire Down Below | Rolling Down | Won't You Go My Way? | The Seas No More |

CW: Thoughts of murder, nonhuman whumpee, magical whump, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, some noncon-y from Gilly, choking

-

The moon hung heavy and full, pale light shining through the window onto the only water the siren could have now. The rope with its looped end now hung by itself above him, gently swaying seemingly of its own volition.

A reminder.

Left there so be did not forget the hissing gasps for air or his hands opening and closing where they had been bound behind his back, helpless to save himself as his toes left the safety of the ground.

A reminder of the look of shining need in the eyes of the siren’s captor as he watched life fade with every denied desperate gasp.

A reminder of how, just before he could fight no longer to live, his captor would let the rope go and watch him crash back into the tub, water splashing out the sides, new bruises blooming.

Above him was the constant threat that it could happen to him again, if he dared to disobey the captor’s commands.

Not that he could even begin to try.

Not any longer.

Not with the cruel magic written into his skin.

The siren tried not to look at the rope, feeling his throat click painfully with every remembered swallow, but he couldn’t really escape it without the sight of his landlocked prison taking over. Stone floors and stone walls threatened to close in on him with every passing second, and he would rather mourn what he had lost than fear what he was forced to have.

Panic threatened around the edges of every breath, but he fought it back. Barely.

Deeper in this place, in another room, his captor laid out in a comfortable human bed, covered in the cloth that kept him warm. It would have taken so little to kill him, and the siren now was unfettered. There were no ropes digging into his wrists, nothing looped tight around his neck. No wooden bit between his teeth to keep him from singing.

It would have been so easy to stand, and walk into that bedroom, and bare his teeth.

Except… he couldn’t.

He kept trying, over and over again, for hours while the moon slowly rose in the sky. He would open his mouth and try to sing the man in here, to lure him with soaring tenor song to put his own head under the water and hold it there until his very lungs burst and then the siren could walk outside and find the ocean and-

Nothing came out but whispers, his own magic fizzling away before it left the heat of his body.

He couldn’t sing.

It was like being unable to breathe, just a different way of choking, and yet being forced to keep living anyway long past when he should have died with the sense that his lungs needed to expand but they couldn't remember how.

His voice caught halfway up his throat when he tried to use it, and what came out instead was a strange rasping croak paired with a sudden flickering burn along one of the things painted on his right arm.

He cradled it close, now, staring at the symbols that meant nothing to him… but he understood enough to know that he was caged this way, captive to the very enclosure of his own skin.

He could not even die to escape it.

His heart skipped and then began to race, and he curled up even more, burying his face between his knees with his arms around them to hide everything but his hair, terrified of what it meant to have a voice that someone else could command, but which was kept from him.

His sobs were nearly silent, present more in the shaking of his shoulders than in any hitch of his breath. If the man woke to his weeping, he feared there would be more pain. There had already been so much.

The moonlight in his hair felt like a caress, like the way his mother touched him when he was young, a quick graze of fingertips as he swam with his sisters, a loving smile.

The moon was enormous tonight, such a feature of the sky it seemed as though it might be about to fall and crash into the ocean. As if the moon, the creator of sirens and mermaids and all the ocean things, would come chasing after her lost son to save him and take him back home.

The waves created by the goddess coming down to earth, the siren thought, would crash upon the land far, far inland and wipe away all the plague of men with their greedy hands and grasping fingers. With his eyes closed he could picture them in their thousands, swept out to sea and prey for those like his own people or the black-and-whites up north, tossed about by the shimmery silvered dolphins with their playful violence, ignored by the enormous whales who would eat their krill while evil men died beside them.

It was a beautiful imagining, so he followed it further, let it lead him from the fear that threatened to overrun him entirely.

He pictured the moon's gift pouring through the windows here, his captor coughing up seawater he couldn’t stop inhaling, begging him for help. Those stupid greedy eyes would be wide in fear but the siren would do nothing but watch…

And smile...

And then feast upon the remains.

He would bury his teeth into soft skin and rend it apart, watch blood bloom and dissolve into the saltwater, giving him strength to go back to the ocean.

The moon would shine the way for him, show him where to swim, unceasing, until he found his way home. His mother and sisters would have known how to survive the great waves of the moon’s crashing. The moon’s own children would be sheltered from her wrath, and they’d be there on the rocks with their arms open to greet him.

If any sailors had survived, the siren could rejoin his sisters in singing them onto the rocks, and he would take new joy in dragging them into the darkest waters until their lungs burst and they could be brought back to land for the meal.

It would be a fitting revenge, for how they had dragged him away and into the air.

He found himself smiling, just a little. The vision of destruction calmed his fear and settled his heartbeat. His body throbbed on the right side, remembering pain from whatever dark magic had been done to him by the woman who had kind eyes even while she hurt him. While she made him… this.

She had finished and looked tired, swaying on her feet, and left with one final soft touch of her hand to his face.

She had done this to him. The moon would kill her, too. But… she had settled her fingers in his hair, stroking gently, while she had painted over his back with her strange paintbrushes and humming ink. She had held him in her arms when the second agony came, even while the man who held him captive had scolded her.

She had soothed him, whispered things he thought must be apologies from her tone, and encouraged him to rest his head on her shoulder. She had only said soft things, and his captor had not started to truly hurt him until she had taken her leave and gone back to her sleeping-place for the night.

Until he and his captor were alone, she had stood between them even as she built the bars of his cage into his body.

He… changed his imagining, then.

He let his dream shift and told himself the moon would show her mercy, kill her quickly so she had no time even to know what had come upon her. The siren wouldn’t eat her. He would lay her out on a sunny rock somewhere higher up, closer to the sky, and let her go back to her own gods that way.

A kindness, for holding him while he screamed, even if she had been the reason for the screaming.

No human had ever held him before.

“Areyto.”

He stiffened, turning away from the moonlight to look back at the doorway. His captor stood there, hair a mess and little round metal-and-glass things down to the end of his nose. The hated man spoke the hated word that the siren had been given as a name. And he… had to answer, now.

Something in the magic had twisted inside his mind, and he knew he had had another name, a real name, but the magic had stolen it from him, taken the sound of his mother's voice whispering it in love away.

All he remembered now was that the human man called him Areyto.

The magic burned, a lick of fire just beneath his jaw, and he winced, closing his eyes as the obedience was compelled. “Ye-es…” He managed, voice still hoarse from his earlier screaming. “Master?"

His captor’s smile widened, and Areyto felt sick at the sight of it, slick like the whale oil that sometimes they found in shipwrecks, dirtying his skin like the black rocks they burned in their metal cooking things.

“I can’t imagine I’ll tire of that,” His captor said, cheerfully. “What a rush, to be called what I am by what belongs to me. What is mine." The siren understood only bits and pieces, but he understood enough, and let his eyes drop back down to the water he sat in. His captor either didn’t notice or didn’t care - he kept talking.

He never stopped talking.

In his dream, Areyto thought, he would rip the man's tongue out first.

His captor chuckled. "Can’t sleep either, huh? I understand entirely. We had an eventful day. I keep thinking about it… thinking about what we’re going to do together. A thousand years… we could do anything. I could do anything. Imagine what I could become with a thousand years of knowledge built up, with all that power and influence. A thousand years of knives being unable to penetrate my organs, of no weapon able to murder me.”

He stepped into the room.

Areyto fought the urge to cringe away from him, trying to hold still and seem unmoved, unafraid, when panic beat inside his chest like a seabird’s frantic wings. He could not escape this, no matter what happened. There was no way to cover himself enough from the human man's filthy smile and glittering eyes.

He listened as his captor stepped closer, and then closer again. He could feel the heat coming from him when he stood beside the washing-tub. His nose wrinkled at the smell of sweat.

Areyto did not look up.

He was afraid the tears would begin again if he did.

With effort he held perfectly still even when his captor touched his hair, disgust like insects crawling from the roots down the back of his neck, his very nerves desperate to hide away and escape from the way fingers scratched his scalp and twisted into the curls.

His captor pulled and the siren’s head was forced back until it knocked into the metal side of the tub, looking up at the human man. Those eyes, behind the glass and metal, shone with ugly triumph.

And… something much worse. Something he recognized only because the man looked at him like that over and over again.

“Out,” His captor ordered - and the buzz of magic moved the siren’s body for him as he found himself standing, stepping out of the washing-tub that was his only hint of safety here, looking down at the ground to avoid the way his captor’s awful eyes moved up and down his body. There was a desire to his expression that was terrible in a way Areyto didn’t yet understand… but he knew to fear.

“Kneel,” His captor commanded in a whisper.

Areyto dropped to his knees, shuddering when that hand with its heavy weight was again in his hair, resting on top of his head, rubbing his thumb between his dark curls. He kept his eyes on the ground and tried to remember his dream about the moon falling into the ocean, the thousands of evil humans swept to their deaths for he and his kind to feast upon.

This man would die slow, and in agony.

“Say, ‘yes master,” His captor ordered, voice thickened. "Say it for me."

Areyto fought not to, but pain burst in a sudden burn down his back and he groaned, shuddering, unable to fight the agony for long. “Y-... yes, Master,” He whispered, hoarsely rasping hated words. Once he obeyed, the pain vanished all at once.

Where it had been, though, there was something hollowed out inside. A sickly self-loathing, a seed taking root that would only ever grow.

His captor smiled, fingers sliding down to take the siren’s chin in hand, tipping it up until their eyes met. His captor was flushed, breathing more heavily, and he stepped closer. It would take so little, the siren thought as the man’s thumb pushed into his mouth and pressed against his tongue, to bite him.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t do anything at all but taste salt and skin and hold still as his mouth was forced open, tongue pressed down, before his captor let go and let him look away.

“You have a lovely face,” His captor said, and Areyto didn’t know the words very well but he knew there was something hideous in the way the man formed the sounds. “It’s too bad you weren’t a female siren, isn’t it? Terrible waste of such beauty. I guess you need a male siren for some sailors, that makes sense, but why could I not have caught a female one? Seems like a ghastly joke, doesn't it?"

The siren, looking towards the window just to try to wash himself clean with the moon, swallowed around the nervous heart beating in his throat. When he saw the way his captor’s eyes dropped to watch his neck shift with the motion, he wished that he hadn’t.

His captor sighed, wistfully, crouching slowly down with a grunt of effort. “I suppose it’s not like anyone else would ever know… You can’t tell them. You wouldn’t even know who to tell or what to say. Besides, you’re not even actually a man, either, are you? Wait. No, Gilly,” He muttered to himself, “No, that line of thought is much much worse. You’re overthinking it. It’s yours, now, and who’s to tell you what to do or not do with your own things? Might as well be my own hand." He met the siren’s eyes, with a smile thick and heavy on his skin, a smile like a hand around his neck. “Besides… you really are too beautiful to waste. I know what I promised Beibei, but…” He trailed off, swallowed hard, moving his fingers to graze along the siren’s jaw and watch him shiver. “She won’t know, will she?”

His captor paused, as if waiting for a response. When the siren only stared at him, he sighed and pushed himself to standing.

Then he backhanded the siren across the face.

Areyto hadn’t expected it, and was thrown to the side, landing hard with one arm bent wrong beneath him, a bright flash of pain. He cried out, but before he could push himself back up those thick fingers were back in his hair, pulling him by his scalp along the floor, through the doorway, into the bigger room.

His cheek hurt where the man had been wearing a ring that had torn skin open, hot blood dripping down his face and onto the floor. He managed to scramble onto his hands and knees, half-crawling and half-dragged along, until he was shoved, and then kicked, and his ribs joined his other pains as he came to a stop and found himself staring at the big human bed in a room that had little else in it.

He didn’t know much about how humans lived - only what he had learned in his time imprisoned here, and what could be gleaned from swimming through the shipwrecks after he and his mother and sisters had eaten the sailors. He didn’t know why the man had brought him in here.

But he knew enough to miss his time alone in the metal tub of water. At least that prison had been a solitary one.

Tears burned hot, blurring his vision. He could hold them back no longer. When he hitched out a sob, his captor gave a shuddering exhale behind him, making a groaning sound that Areyto understood too well, with a new fear that broke like a cold wave against his back and into his chest.

“Listen to you,” The man murmured. “I’m going to enjoy this. And if I want you to… so will you. Isn't that something..."

His foot pressed into the siren’s back, forcing him down onto the cold stone floor until he could barely breathe for the weight on his spine. It felt like having the rope around his neck again as he clawed at the floor but found no help there, no rescue.

No way out.

“Beautiful,” His captor whispered. “You’re mine, aren’t you? Really mine. Say ‘yes, master.’”

Areyto pressed his forehead against the stone, the words coming obediently from a throat that no longer belonged to him. He couldn’t hold them back. “Yes… m-master.”

The man’s foot briefly left, but then was replaced by the weight of his body, sitting over Areyto’s lower back, one hand between his shoulder blades and the other gripping into his hair, forcing his head back. “Don’t hide from me. Say it again.”

“Yes…” He gasped - wanted to fight, but felt the threat of the agony returning in the symbol on his neck. Tears stung the cut on his face. “Yes, m-... master-”

His captor groaned again, and it felt like the sound was right beside his ear. He felt the man’s hot damp breath on him and would have begged for mercy, if he could, but those words weren’t allowed to him now.

“Again,” His captor demanded, yanking on his hair so hard his scalp burned, fingernails digging into his back. “Say it again!"

Areyto's wail went from nearly a whisper to something sharper and loud when he felt a tongue move up his neck over the marks that branded and caged him, hot and wet and repulsive. “Yes-... ye-es… master!”

“Again.” His captor’s voice was rough, and he pulled away but then his tongue was replaced by his hands closing around the siren’s neck, grip tightening in a sickeningly familiar feeling.

Spots danced before the siren’s vision, the world spun. He tried to obey, but had to fight for every single searing gasp for air.

His captor moved against his back. “I said say it again.”

“Yes…” Areyto’s chest heaved, his lungs burned. There was nothing to fill them with, and it took the last air he had to finish the words. “M-... m-ah-... master-”

“Good. Again.”

His captor’s grip tightened.

“Y-... yes-... M-...” He couldn’t finish. The moon moved behind a cloud. Even the goddess hid from her child's fear and shame.

Areyto fell tumbling into the mercy of the dark.

-

Taglist: @burtlederp  @finder-of-rings  @theelvishcowgirl  @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump  @bloodinkandashes  @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump

Covers @whumptober prompts 10, 11, and 12

#whump #writing #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #whumptober2023 #no. 10 #stranded #no. 11 #captivity #no. 12 #insomnia #magical whump #magic whump #choking tw #implied noncon #angry whumpee #defiant whumpee

[jordanstrophe]

The Manor

CW: Mix of horror and whump, blood, creatures, panic attack, VERY creepy (yet human) whumper, taken captive

Whumpee swore they saw something move beyond the fog. Dread shivered down their back along with the cold. "Follow the path and you'll be safe." Whumpee quoted under their breath.

Footsteps stomped behind them. Right as whumpee turned, someone had a hand on the bag around their shoulder and attempted to rip it off them. It snapped off, and it felt like so did whumpee's shoulder along with it.

"OW- HEY!" Whumpee cried as the figure took off from the path. They gripped their arm and winced; the satchel's loss wasn't affordable, so whumpee took off after them deeper into the forest.

They felt the air notably change. It was thicker, colder, damp. The thief was never regained in sight; and neither was their precious satchel. Whumpee slowed to a stop and groaned a frustrated breath. They glanced around, realizing they may have just stranded themselves somewhere with bone-chilling rumors.

"Those who left the path rarely returned. The ones who did had a dead gaze behind their eyes. They never found the words to describe the horrors. So they were silent."

"Never again will I take this shortcut." Whumpee scolded themselves, dusting moisture off their coat. They started wandering back, keeping their teeth gritted as their shoulder pulsed. A twig snapping to their right as they jumped and clutched their arm.

Perhaps the thief didn't get as far as they thought.

"Hey, can I have my bag back? It's important!" Whumpee called. They heard a deep wet-like snap as whumpee stumbled and tore through branches. "Look neither of us want to be here, so please, just give me my-" .... !

Whumpee saw something white, textured like rough quartz. It had the figure of a man, distorted, crouched on all fours over another. A face was visible, the second figure was the thief: eyes wide and dull, crimson painting their face, the leaves, the dirt, the creature. Their arm was extended and the satchel was deathly clutched within their fingers.

Whumpee covered their mouth before they could gasp. The thief's blank eyes seemed to stare through them as whumpee began backing away.

*SNAP*

Their heel crushed a soaked-stick, letting loose a loud wet crunch. Whumpee swore their heart stopped. The creature didn't seem to notice, however; as it continued to delightfully consume and tear at the thief's body.

Whumpee found themselves turned and running. They regretted everything, the satchel meant nothing and they couldn't fathom what they saw. They noticed the fog starting to lift and spotted a dim light.

The more the fog cleared the more lights they saw, realizing it was all from a single building, a manor. Moss-covered brick walls, the gate was strangely wide open. Suddenly, whumpee heard a sound deep in the woods from where they came.

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*

Footsteps prowling the forest, slow, with no desire to run. With nowhere else to go, whumpee ran through the gates and up the stairs. The manor was surely abandoned, but it would be shelter until whatever that... thing is passed.

They reached for the rusted-iron doorknob, expecting to have to fight their way in but the door opened like a warm welcome. Whumpee slammed the door shut behind them, sinking to their knees clutching their aching shoulder. They gasped for air, surprised to see a large decorated living room, primarily wine-red vintage. It was warm and glowed from several burning candles

-And all recently lit.

Whumpee's legs trembled as they rose to their feet; they could hear the footsteps through the door. Panic, horror, pain; it all caught up as they felt paralyzed. They couldn't tell what was worse, whatever could be in the manor with them, or what was outside waiting.

They whimpered when the footstep texture changed; from sopping wet dirt to hard stone, the very stairs they just ran up-

-The very stairs right behind them.

They could hear breathing.

Whumpee's hand was still clutching the doorknob. If anyone ever found their body, it would probably still be. Every candle in the manor suddenly flickered and snuffed into darkness.

Whumpee found themselves on the floor hugging their knees sobbing. The candles had flickered back on after a moment; Whumpee rose their head to someone standing over them with their hands folded behind their back.

Their face was pale, their eyes were dark. Their clothes were regal and their expression was calm. Aside from some peculiarities, they looked like a perfectly normal human. Whumpee stared silently through tears that had stopped flowing, pitifully, their body screamed terror, but they were unable to scream themselves.

"My dear, what are you doing on my floor?" Whumper asked, cocking their head to the side.

"I-....ah-...." Whumpee choked. A smile spread over the stranger's face as they held out their hand to them.

"Gracious, you look dreadful! What are you doing all the way out here? Come, up. Off my floor." They wiggled their fingers.

Whumpee felt compelled to take their hand, so they did. The stranger yanked them to their feet as whumpee was glad they offered their good arm.

"-Outs-s-side... so-something outside..." Whumpee gestured towards the door.

"Oh, is there?" The stranger asked with another tilt. "I'll take a look if it'll put you at ease." They smiled, scooting whumpee away from the door and grabbing the doorknob.

"NO DON'T DO THAT!" Whumpee cried, trying to grab their arm but it was too late. The stranger swung the door open without hesitated to the grand reveal: Of nothing.

Whumpee's shouting trailed into silence. The stranger couldn't help but laugh as they felt whumpee clinging to their arm for life.

"Oh sweetheart, you're fine! Everything's okay." They soothed, stroking a single finger down a tear stain. "The fog does play tricks on people. It's not the freshest air." They winked, shutting the door.

"I- I'm so sorry I must ha-have been... Mistaken...." Whumpee mumbled, dropped their arms and clutched their own shoulder. The strangers eyes fixated and seemed to note their pain.

"Of course you were. Happens more often than you think." They patted whumpee's cheek. "Come, sit down. We can talk later, let's take a look at that arm."

"Y-you noticed?" Whumpee sniffed.

"Hard not to, you can't hide pain from me." Whumper smiled.

Whumpee thought that was a rather odd way to put it.

"Oh, and is this yours by chance?" Whumper pulled out a satchel that was tucked behind the couch. It was rough and dripping with water and blood all over the floor. Whumper didn't seem to mind one bit.

But sure enough, it was their satchel.

.....

.....

"Actually..." Whumpee rocked on their heels, their eyes wide staring at the satchel. "I really must get going." Their voice quivered.

Whumper's smile and expression didn't change. They dangled the satchel with a single finger as it swayed side to side.

Whumpee heard the door behind them *click* as it locked.

(This. Was. Supposed. To. Be. SHORT! And a one shot, so perhaps a part 2 inc)

#tw death #tw creepy whumper #whump #whumpee #whumper #soft whumper #environmental whump #horror whump #whump angst #injured whumpee #wounded whumpee #lost whumpee #caretaking whumper #whump writing #whump stories #stranded whump #panic whump #captive whumpee

[tildeathiwillwrite]

The Dangers of Jumping

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 8: Stranded / Team whump / "Is anyone there?!"

Whumpril Day 6 (Dizziness)

WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

The Legend of Orian Goldeneye Masterpost

part 2

TW: head injury, concussion, unconsciousness, falling, dizziness, vertigo, environmental whump, blood, bruises

Context: Post-canon one-shot where Jas and Killian explore the universe together. Unfortunately this Jump has already gone south. (have I mentioned that these two are very whumpable?)

-----

Jas’s head was pounding, like someone was taking a hammer and chisel to her inner skull. She groaned softly, eyes closed as she slowly put her hand up to the source of the pain. It came away warm and sticky. She froze, and her eyes flicked open. She lay on her back on a rough, cold, uneven surface, one of her legs pinned uncomfortably beneath her body. Far above, stars glittered in unfamiliar constellations, with dark clouds obscuring parts of the night sky.

Jas slowly sat up and straightened out, cautiously probing at the wound on the side of her head. It bled heavily, but it wasn’t too big or too deep. The motion made her head spin, and it took her a second to focus on the rest of her surroundings.

She was on a ledge of some kind, bare stone jutting out of a cliff face with scattered tufts of wildflowers. Less than a foot to her right was a sudden drop of at least thirty feet, maybe more. She gasped and scrambled back, the movement not helping with her headache or sense of vertigo. Her rushed action drew her attention to the object in her other hand: a necklace with a glassy green pendant, the chain tangled around her fingers. 

This jump-started her panic. “Killian?!” she shouted, glancing around the ledge frantically, although she already knew he wasn’t there. Did he fall? Is he at the bottom of the cliff? Did he not come out of the portal?

Jas touched the side of her head again and winced. The blow to her head, whenever that happened, must’ve been worse than she’d thought. The portal. That was the last thing she remembered, forming a portal and stepping through, Killian at her side. And after… she didn’t know.

Was this how Killian felt all the time? Jas suddenly developed more sympathy for his problems as she pushed herself to her feet, relying heavily on the cliff wall. It sloped up more gently than the drop across from her. She could scale it if necessary. But first, she had to check over the side.

Jas was too dizzy to trust herself to stand so close to the edge, so she went onto her hands and knees and crawled until she could peer over the side without fear of falling. The drop had to be about a hundred feet, but it was hard to tell from this angle because a thick forest of pine trees carpeted the base of the cliff and blocked the view of the ground.

Far off in the distance was a faint orange glow, almost absorbed by the forest, one that wavered and flickered like a fire. A camp, maybe? Hopefully, it was civilization and not a forest fire. Jas continued scanning the forest, searching for any other signs of life. She might have to wait until sunrise, she couldn't see much of anything in the dark.

When she was going to give up and wait until morning, a small splash of color caught her eye. Was that Killian’s jacket?

She squinted. It certainly looked like it. The jacket was torn up, dangling from broken branches several layers deep in the closest pine tree. Killian must’ve fallen through the tree, the branches breaking his fall and tearing his jacket from him. His bag shouldn't be too far away.

Jas sighed sharply through her nose. I have to get down there, don't I?

She glanced around the ledge. Her headache was beginning to subside, the wound scabbing over and matting her hair into a red mess. Unfortunately, there wasn't any simple way down other than… jumping.

Jas sighed through her nose sharply before slipping Killian’s pendant over her head and rising to her feet. She backed up, cursing herself with each step she took. This is so stupid, you’re gonna kill yourself, or break something, or—

She sprinted and leaped off the ledge. Time seemed to slow as she sailed through the air.

Jas braced herself for the impact, but it still took her breath away when she crashed into the tree, its thin branches snapping under her weight. She flailed, trying to grab something, anything to slow her fall.

Her fingers wrapped around a thick branch, and she jerked to a stop, nearly dislocating her shoulder in the process. “Oww…” she mumbled. She would be finding bruises for the next week from this. “Okay, jacket.”

She’d aimed for the tree next to the one where Killian’s jacket had gotten caught, so it was only a matter of maneuvering and balancing precariously on branches before she snatched it from the tree’s grasp. Slinging it over her shoulder, Jas began to descend, taking care that she did not fall the rest of the way like Killian had.

Pine needles crunched underfoot as she dropped the remaining feet from the lowest branch. She paused, squinting. It was a lot darker down here than on the cliff face; the tall trees blocked out the light of the stars. So, despite having a rough idea of where to look, it still took almost two excruciating minutes before she found Killian.

He was crumpled at the base of the tree like a discarded toy, covered in dozens of cuts and bruises. He was unconscious, naturally, but his chest rose and fell slowly. Still alive, at least.

Jas nudged him with her foot. “Killian?”

He didn’t move.

She poked him again, harder. No response. “Damnit,” she muttered, “why do you have to be so delicate?”

Killian offered no answer, so Jas glanced around until her eyes fell on his bag lying a few feet away. “Well…” she said aloud as she picked it up and slung it over her head and shoulder, “I have no clue where we are, and there’re signs of life off that way—” she waved vaguely in the direction of the flickering glow— “and we’re pretty much stranded until your Pendant resets.”

Jas crouched beside him and, with much effort, lifted him over her head and across her shoulders. “And,” she grunted, straightening up, “there are probably things in this forest other than us.

“So if you think I’m leaving you behind,” she finished as she started walking, “you’d be dead wrong.”

Perhaps ‘dead’ was a poor choice of words. But it wasn’t like anyone but the trees could hear Jas anyway.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

#“what do you mean Jas has 0 self-preservation instincts?” #this #this is what i mean #my writing #whump #wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump [day 8] #whumpril2024 #whumprilday6 #dizziness #stranded #team whump #annoyed caretaker #head injury #concussion #unconsciousness #falling #vertigo #environmental whump #blood #bruises #jumping #interdimensional travel #my ocs #oc whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump scenario #unconscious #unconscious whumpee

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptober 2023 | Day 10 | The Bee’s Whumptober Masterlist 

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you’d never leave.”

CW: yandere whumper, maybe broken bone, kidnapping, noncon drugging, syringe

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

Whumpee held their phone up to the sky, waving it around fruitlessly as they squinted up at the screen, hoping to be blessed by tiny bars of cell service gracing the hotbar of their phone. No such luck. They groaned much too loudly, enough that their friend would overhear and hopefully come to their heroic rescue.

“WhumpeeEERRRRRRR,” they called out, imitating a particularly annoying preschooler they used to hate. “There’s no signal. If you were gonna take me camping in the middle of nowhere, the least you could do is provide high-speed wifi.”

“Mm, yeah, my mistake, many apologies, m’lord.” Whumper deadpanned with a smirk as they scouted out the campsite, matching Whumpee’s banter. “I’ll take you to the Bermuda Triangle next time. Even less service there, so I’ve heard. ”

Whumpee let out an exaggerated gasp. “You wouldn’t! That's it, I’m canceling you on Twitter!”

“Right.” They made their way over to Whumpee, leaning against the car with their arms crossed, head tilted to the side. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that without cell service?”

“As soon as we get the high-speed wifi I requested, it’s over for you.”

“But then you couldn’t cancel me for not getting you wifi because you’ll have wifi, right?”

“Don't try to sway me with such trivial things as facts and logic!” Whumpee decreed hautilily. "You must be punished for your crimes. Your execution will be glorious!”

Whumper grinned despite their exaggerated tough guy act. Whumpee always knew how to make them smile. Their heart had been racing ever since they left, wondering if they were making the right choice here. They could still back out, just have a regular nice, normal camping trip with Whumpee.

But no. Whumper had to bite their lip to not fully oggle at Whumpee as they stood on the edge of the trunk, bantering without a care in the world. A warm all-consuming pressure filled Whumper’s chest and they had to make a physical effort not to squeal like a child when their crush noticed them for the first time. Soon they would have this all the time. This was the right choice.

They jumped up to join Whumpee on the lip of the trunk, awkwardly slouching down under the trunk door proper. “Well, might be kind of hard to execute me if you can’t cancel me in the first place, no?”

“You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Whumpee raised a challenging eyebrow at them. Whumper had to manually remember how to breathe. 

They snatched Whumpee’s phone out of their grasp and lept down from the trunk, sprinting halfway across the campsite and turning around to dangle the phone tauntingly before Whumpee even had a chance to jump down.

“Can’t cancel me without access to the outside world at all, yeah?”

“Oh, fuck you, Whumper!”

“You would!”

Whumpee snorted, jumping down and sprinted toward Whumper, but Whumper took off again in a different direction, so they were still the same distance away by the time Whumpee made it to Whumper’s original spot.

Whumpee blew some air up their face, their bangs fluttering up in the most adorable way. They made their way toward Whumper again, this time walking normally, panting lightly and holding out their hand. “Okay, seriously, I need my phone back please."

Whumper squeezed the phone in a death grip and bit the inside of their cheek, so hard they almost drew blood. They cherished moment, the way their heart fluttered. It may be a while before they and Whumpee could have moments like this again, but after that, life would be nothing but these moments.

Whumpee grabbed onto Whumper's shoulder to leverage themself up to the arm holding their phone toward the sky, but their hand fell just short of reaching. One of the advantages of being the taller one. But then Whumpee used their shoulder as a boost to jump higher, and Whumper had to stumble back to keep the phone away from them. Whumpee’s knees buckled from the sudden absence of Whumper's body to brace the fall and they fell on their ass with a shriek. Oh no. No no no.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Whumper yelled, backing up further.

Whumpee hissed. A telltale redness of the eyes betraying held-back tears as they cursed to fire shooting up their tailbone. 

“What was that for?” They demanded, more confused and pained than angry. Even when Whumper accidentally hurt them, they didn't get mad; Whumper could have cried. Whumpee really was perfect, weren’t they?

“Just give me my phone, would ya, man? Jesus, I think I bruised my tailbone or something. We might need to actually call someone now, or go to urgent care…”

“You can’t do that, Whumpee. Sorry.”

Whumpee, for the first time, groaned in annoyance and tilted their chin up at Whumper. That would need correcting later. But even still, the actions made Whumper want to squeeze Whumpee until they popped.

“Why not? You break the cell service on purpose? Or did you actually take me out here to kidnap me, torture me, then leave my remains strewn about the woods so they’d never find me again?” A wry smile crept onto their face again, one which quickly disappeared as soon as Whumper spoke again.

“Well… one out of the three.”

“What?” Their eyes widened into a brief flash of fear before the mask of confusion settled on their features again. Whumper always took the joke too far sometimes. They knew that. With some effort and a clenched jaw, they pushed up to their knees. “Whumper, stop fucking around and help me up. I need to get to a doctor.”

Whumper closed their eyes and took a deep breath, a loud roaring in their ears. No turning back now. 

They threw Whumpee's phone on the ground and smashed the heel of their hiking boot into the fragile glass, and Whumpee cried out, falling out of their precarious squat and straight onto their tailbone, then spasming out so they laid trembling on their side. Whumper stomped on the phone until it more resembled broken spare parts than an actual device, then swished it around in the dirt just to make sure.

Whumpee stared at the dust-bitten parts with wide eyes, mouth agape. Then their fiery gaze shot up and found Whumper. “What the FUCK?! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

Whumper stared at Whumpee, hardly able to breathe. This was it. The Confession.

“I’m sorry I have to do this, Whumpee, but I can’t let anyone else have you anymore. That includes people on your phone. You’re mine. And I’m yours. They might try to get in our way, and if that happens, I wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate the problem entirely. I know you might be in shock right now, but I think you’ll find that in time... I mean, I’ll make sure you never want for anything and no one–... no one will… Are you– Do you need help?...”

Whumpee struggled to their feet with shaky legs, wincing the entire time, breathing heavily, almost like a panic response. They never took their eyes off Whumper. It would have been perfect, except for the terrified and hurt and still slightly disbelieving expression that etched into their features. Whumper tried to go and help them up, but Whumpee practically lept backward, almost toppling over again in the process.

“The fuck?! No, stay away from me! This is– What is this? You’re actually kidnapping me?”

“No, no, Whumpee, look, you’re in shock,” Whumper rushed forward and grabbed them by the forearms to hold them steady. Whumpee tugged away violently, but still, Whumper held them fast. “I have a cabin out here, no one will find us, we’ll go there and we can patch you up and you can–”

“No, no! Let go of me Whumper, let me go, I don’t want to be kidnapped! Let me go, please, please I can’t– I can’t– please–... don’t–…”

Whumpee was getting hysterical, their breaths shallow and fast, their face so much whiter than normal and tears falling freely down their cheeks. This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Thankfully, Whumper was always prepared. As gently as possible, they wrenched Whumpee’s arm downward and Whumpee collapsed to their knees at Whumper’s feet. Whumper slipped the syringe out of their pocket. A pre-measured dose. Just for Whumpee.

“Whumpee, you’re hysterical. I’m going to put you to this’ll help you relax, almost like you’re asleep. You won’t be able to move, but know you’ll always be safe from now on. With me.”

Whumpee tried to tug away from Whumpers iron grip, breath hitching intensely as they unsuccessfully tried to back up, shaking their head and pleading, “No–, no no no–, I don't–, please don’t, just– let me go–  I don’t– stop, stop, stop stop no stop stopstopstopSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP PLEASE!!”

Then they plunged the needle into Whumpee’s arm, more forcefully than they meant to. Whumpee was starting to get on their nerves. They let out a strangled cry, still trying desperately to pull away, struggling with all their might. Until they couldn’t anymore. They swallowed, doing their damnedest to fight the drug overpowering their body, slowly shutting them down. All that did was work the poison around their body faster. Their actions slowly got weaker and weaker until they collapsed into Whumper’s arms, eyes slowely blinking and unfocused, barely seeing through the fog.

Whumper smiled down into Whumpee’s eyes, scooping them up into a bridal carry, their head lolling against their chest.

“See, isn’t that better? Let’s go home and get those injuries all fixed up for you. I’ll make sure you get settled in nice and snug. You’ll love it… I’m so glad we’re finally going through with this. I’d be lost without you, dear. And you’d be lost without me.”

#whumptober2023 #no.10 #lyric #broken phone #stranded #OC #fic #needles #whump #whump writing #whumpee #whump scenario #writeblr #whumper #yandere whumper #yandere #yes yes i know im late #i had this great idea but didnt have the spoons for it until now #sue me lol #this ones a bit different from my usual but damn #i should do yandere whumpers more often

[whumperofworlds]

There needs to be more Parting Words Regret tropes in whump!!!

Whumpee is killed/goes missing/disappears without a trace after a fight with Caretaker. Caretaker feeling THE G U I L T over it. If they hadn't yelled at Whumpee, they wouldn't have died/went missing/disappeared, and that guilt stays with them for a long time, if not forever...

BONUS if Whumpee is alive and well, albeit taken captive/stranded, and they too feel guilty over the fight. Or maybe they feel they deserved this and they feel that Caretaker won't come for them because they hate them now.

It makes me cry every time. Make more Parting Words Regret tropes please!

#whump #whump tropes #parting words regret #argument #major character death #missing #disappearance #caretaker #whumpee #guilt #captivity #stranded

[clickerflight]

October 2023 - Sandstorm: Part 13

I am once again having a quarter life crisis. At least my whump story will always be here for me.

Masterlist

Part 12

Content: Demon whumpee, mer whumpee, stranded, desert whump, scorpion sting, twisted ankle, semi immortal whumpee, cuffed together, whumpee on whumpee violence (delirious biting)

.........................................

The ground had turned from sand to hard dirt and rocks halfway through the day. Laurance wandered over the ground, trying to avoid the cacti, rocks, and piles of dirt on the ground. Matsu held on for dear life, piggy backed on Laurance with their food and water pinned between the two of them or tied into their shendyts. 

Laurance already wasn’t in a good mood. He had stepped on three cactuses so far because Matsu had thrashed unexpectedly, the venom that the scorpion used was burning a hole in Matsu’s foot so his leg was drenched in blood and pus, and Matsu had fainted several times, and Laurance suspected a couple of times were due to his heart stopping before his body healed him up enough to bring him back to life. 

All Laurance could do was walk and pray. 

Matsu moaned, pressing his face into Laurance’s shoulder. Laurance thought nothing of it until another wave of pain hit Matsu and the half mer bit into Laurance’s shoulder with his sharp teeth. 

Laurance yelped, nearly dropping Matsu as the mer’s head lolled back, blood dripping down Laurance’s shoulder and the mer’s chin. Laurance hissed and kept walking, looking down at Matsu’s foot to see the blackened wound. It wasn’t looking any better, but it didn’t look any worse either. Maybe Matsu was going to start healing soon. Laurance hoped so. Having to haul his hallucinating friend across a desert was almost worse than anything Yor and Kulor had done to them. 

“It’ll be okay,” Laurance whispered. “We’re going to make it. We’re gonna be okay. We’re almost there. Just-”

He spotted the snake in his path before he got too close. He stopped in his tracks as it sunbathed, content and right in the middle of the road. There were cactuses on either side, which actually seemed to point that this was literally some kind of road, so Laurance couldn’t walk around. If Anisha were here, this would be easy. She wasn’t able to speak to animals, but she was wonderful with reptiles. He’d seen her convince hungry snakes to unwrap themselves from unwary prey. Which was himself half the time. 

Laurance sighed heavily. He took a few steps back, hoisting Matsu up higher on his hips and then ran and jumped over the snake. The snake didn’t seem to mind, however, Laurance slipped in the dust on the other side and crashed to the ground, his ankle burning with a sudden and fierce pain. Matsu rolled out next to him, only kept from flying into the cactuses by the chain between the two of them. 

Laurance laid on the ground for a long moment, gasping for air and filled with terror and anger. He would have to keep carrying Matsu across the desert with a messed up ankle in the hot sun for at least another day and a half if Matsu didn’t heal quickly, and he just didn’t have the strength to keep going. Laurance laid there, his ankle throbbing as he tried to force himself back up, but he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Maybe if he just got some water. That was an easier step in between him and his goal, but when he lifted his head to see where all the water skins were, he found that three of them had popped, draining their precious fluid everywhere when he was sulking and there was one left. 

Laurance put his head back down, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep his gasping breaths from turning into sobs. He wasn’t getting any water until they got somewhere because Matsu needed it more. Laurance was going to lose his mind. He curled up around his leg and continued to lay there as Matsu writhed on the ground helplessly, sick out of his mind. 

Laurance didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he came awake, shivering so hard his teeth were chattering. Matsu had fallen asleep next to him. Laurance looked over at Matsu’s foot and sighed a breath of relief. It was healing. There was a scabby wound there, but it didn’t seem to be actively trying to kill the mer. Laurance slowly sat up, rubbing his aching head and checking his own ankle. It had swollen a little, but the depression nap seemed to be a good thing. Laurance put a little weight on his foot, and while it hurt, it wasn’t too bad. 

Laurance turned and shook Matsu to see if he could get his friend to wake up. Matsu opened one eye, looking up at Laurance before grumbling and closing his eyes again. “S not even morning, Laur,” he sighed. “Let me sleep. We’ve already walked for half the night.”

“No, that was last night,” Laurance said with. “You know, last night when you got stung by a scorpion and have been out of your mind while I had to carry you.”

Matsu’s eyes snapped open and he sat up to look at his foot. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s healing though,” Matsu said cheerfully, looking at Laurance properly now. “Ugh, you look like hot garbage, though, what happened to you?”

“You did,” Laurance said, rolling his eyes as he slowly got up and went around picking up their things. “Thanks for biting me, by the way.”

“Oh, stars, I’m sorry, Laurance,” Matsu said, testing his own feet out to see if they would take his weight. 

“It’s alright. Not like you did it on purpose,” Laurance said, but even as he said that and rolled his shoulder forward to grab something, he felt a tight and painful urge to dull all of Matsu’s teeth. He picked up the next object with his other arm. 

“So, how far did we get?” Matsu asked. He felt bad that Laurance had to carry him, of course, but another part of him was ecstatic that they made progress without him having to be mentally present for it. Sure, he was in a lot of pain, but he honestly didn’t remember much of it. 

He frowned when Laurance gave him a sheepish look. “Um…. maybe a few hours? We started when the sun was rising but well, when the sky was almost overhead there was, ah, a snake, and I jumped over it and, ah, twisted my ankle.”

Matsu stared at him, and then the spilled items. “And we’ve just, what, been laying here for the rest of the time?”

Laurance nodded again, not quite meeting Matsu’s eye. “I had a really bad day.”

Matsu nodded, hiding his disappointment. “Okay, yeah, that’s fine. Things happen.”

“And when I fell it popped a lot of our water. We have one left.”

Matsu closed his eyes, taking a slow, soothing breath. “Yeah, okay, yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Laurance gave him a pitiful look, one that said he knew it wasn’t okay. “You can have it.”

“Nah, we’ll share it.”

“You need it more.”

“You know what,” Matsu said quickly, “Let’s not talk about this right now, yeah? Let’s get walking.”

Laurance nodded vaguely, looking around to make sure he had everything before they turned and limped together down the road. 

…………………………………..

By the end, Matsu and Laurance had their arms around each other to help one another limp along. They were making a depressing amount of progress, but it was better than nothing. Matsu was mostly healed, but even though the wound was gone his ankle still hurt down to the bone. 

Still, he could walk pretty much fine. 

Laurance was not so lucky. They finally had to stop near morning when Laurance’s ankle finally just gave out on him. 

Laurance sat in the dust, slowly rotating his ankle to test how much movement he had. He sighed heavily, stretching out on the ground, shivering as his body started to cool off from the effort of traveling through the night. 

Matsu sat down next to him and sighed softly. "Do you think they'll catch up with us?"

“I don’t know,” Laurance said. “I don’t think so. But tomorrow should hopefully be our last day on the road.”

“It better be,” Matsu said, giving the water skin a disparaging look. 

Laurance nodded, leaning into Matsu as they sat on the edge of the road, the stars shining above them. Here, near the end of their journey, Laurance looked up at them. 

The skies were clear for miles around with no major light pollution to be seen on this entire planet. Well, maybe the mage cities on the other side of the globe, but that wasn’t their concern. 

Matsu leaned back, looking up at them as well. “I wonder what stories these people tell about the stars.”

Laurance nodded. “Anisha might know.”

Matsu snorted. “Yeah, she’d be talking our ears off about them.”

“And then Kira would tell her to shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell between them as Laurance wondered about their wives once again and where they were. There wasn’t much that could get between Anisha, Kira, and their husbands. The worry inside him curdled in his gut as he turned his attention to a certain set of stars to find some comfort. 

“There’s the Protector,” Laurance said gently, pointing out the set of stars. They were shaped in the symbol of the Telari, the first dragons. The protectors of the universe that were to work with the other base races to make progress and learn everything they could in this life. The stars were bright and a slightly blue hue, bluer than the others, making them seem brighter in comparison. They weren’t really stars, he supposed, but really any light in the sky that was far enough up could be considered a star. The Telari had used some sort of magic to set their symbol in the skies in every world they went to. People had tried to track down where these stars were placed because they seemed to be visible in the exact same way on each planet, but after you left the haze of the atmosphere, they disappeared. 

That probably made them not stars, then. It was likely an enchantment placed on the planet that affected the minds of all those who lived there. An enchantment that seemed to have outlasted their enchanters. 

Matsu stared at them, his bright eyes tracing their shape before he sighed and nudged Laurance. “We should sleep.”

“Fine,” Laurance said, curling up just as he had previous nights to let Matsu curl up on top of him. With that, the two were asleep.

Part 14

#whump #whump challenge #october challenge #sandstorm #demon whumpee #mer whumpee #stranded #desert whump #scorpion sting #twisted ankle #semi immortal whumpee #cuffed together #we vibe #but also we panic #i just don't feel good currently #i am not anxious very often #but I'm anxious now #and there's not much I can do about it #because the anxiety is about working a normal job #and I can't just fix it by getting a new job #because it's the idea of working any job where someone else telling me what to do #that is causing the anxiety #i really need to get my commissions going #if only so i can take my hours back down again #random rant #i suppose

[susiequaz12]

Whumptober 10

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

Day 10. This is part of a pirate storyline with Marlowe that I might flush out later. CW: environmental whump, nonbinary whumpee, immortal whumpee, talk of death, (this one is just kinda sad.)

- - -

Lo coughed up the water in their lungs- crawling themselves further along the edge of the beach and away from the water. They weren’t a strong swimmer, so they were surprised they made it into shore from where their ship had sunk. 

Once they finally had a second to breathe, Marlowe scanned their surroundings, taking in the deserted island they had washed up on. So far no other crew members had made it to shore- most sinking to the bottom with the ship. 

That’s when Lo spotted the hat- the long curls of dark hair floating above the water. 

“Captain- no-” they whispered, pulling themselves along the edge until they finally got the strength to stand- running over to where she lay. 

Lo pulled her out of the water, dragging her higher up and onto the sand, safely away from the tide. They turned her on her side, letting the water spill out of her mouth as she coughed and hacked up her lungs. 

“Madame- you’re, you’re alright- I’m here.” Lo pulled her into their lap, cradling her neck as she squinted up at the dark, stormy sky. A gentle hand reached up towards their face, caressing their cheek. 

“My darling-” her voice was cut off with a cough, the rain crashing down around them. “You’ve served me well, I-” 

“Stop, Captain, you’ll be alright, I’ll take care of you. I said I’d never leave, and I won’t.” Lo moved to wipe away their tears but it was useless as the rain crashed down, soaking them both to the bone. 

“You’ve always been so obedient, such a loyal companion-even after all these years.”

“Quit talking like that- we’ll be alright, you’re not going anywhere.” 

She grabbed Marlowe’s hand, putting it to her lips with a kiss. 

“Hush now, I know this island. There’s nothing here but dying trees, and sand. Even if I- if I were to make it, we’d be stranded anyways. And besides-” She flashed Lo a smile and they let out a sob. “-a captain always goes down with her ship.” 

She let out another wrack of coughs before her body grew still, faint breathing barely evident as she lay in Lo’s arms. 

“No- no please-” they sobbed quietly. “You- you can’t leave me too- I- I can’t be alone again- I- my captain, please-” 

But she was already gone. 

Lo had spent ten years on that ship. 

Ten years as their Captain’s companion. Her right hand, her confidant- her lover-

Those were ten of Lo’s happiest years. But they should’ve known it would be too good to be true. Everything had to come to an end, it always did- especially for someone like Lo. 

Marlowe watched as the tide took her body away- back out to the sea where she belonged. 

Marlowe sat there on the beach- the rain pouring down over their shaking body as they sobbed. 

They sat there until the rain finally stopped, and the sun peeked out behind the clouds. 

They sat there all alone on the beach of that island. 

Not even the release of death to console them.  

- - -

Tag List: @imagination1reality0 @thecyrulik @whumpsday @termsnconditions-apply @spectral-whumpy-writer @raddyscoops @whumptober-archive

#whumptober2023 #no.10 #stranded #“you said you'd never leave” #pirate whump #nonbinary whumpee #immortal whumpee #character death #marlowe the immortal

[bagel-lox]

yeah delirium whump is fun when the whumpee is spilling secrets and being edgy and whatever but my whumpee thinks he's back playing high school baseball while slowly succumbing to heat stroke in the desert. where's my representation

#whump #delirium #heat stroke #the caretaker is stranded in the desert with him but much better at dealing with heat #with limited resources the caretaker can only cool down the whumpee so much!! #(let's not forget the caretaker is probably disregarding his personal safety to take care of the whumpee... #which foreshadows a role reversal :flushed:) #self

[zoe-and-quinn]

Whumptober Day 10

Broken Phone / Stranded / “You said you’d never leave.”

TW: Alcohol, mugging, kidnapping, captivity, disassociation, gun

Casey was drunk on the night he first met Alexei, which was quite a rare occurrence. He had turned 21 a few months ago, but his relationship with alcohol stayed mostly the same. He might have a drink or two at a friend’s party or family holidays, but other than that, he preferred Orange Fanta or a mocktail.

But his best friend had wanted to spend her 21st birthday bar hopping, and he was sort of obligated to come along. 

After the second bar and fourth drink, he made the executive decision to head home. He offered his regrets to the birthday girl, who drunkenly protested before hugging him and thanking him for being there for her.

The plan had been to call an uber from the last bar they planned to drop by, but a quick look at the street signs told Casey he was only a few blocks from his apartment, and the weather was still nice, the last hints of summer persevering before cooler temperatures made themselves known.

He decided to walk.

Even sober, well rested, and prepared, Casey would have a hard time defending himself against a 13-year-old bully asking for his lunch money. He was none of these things, and his attackers were quite a bit larger, scarier, and better trained.

It didn’t take them long for them to beat him to a pulp, grab everything even slightly valuable, and walk off.

Casey, of course, didn’t know that his doom was driving towards him. He thought his biggest threats had left after leaving him for dead.

Maybe that was a bit dramatic. He was bruised, yes, and had a few cuts from the rough asphalt he had fallen on, but the alcohol was definitely blurring his thoughts, making the situation seem a lot more dire than it really was.

The muggers had taken his phone, so he couldn’t exactly call a friend to come pick him up. He was stranded in this alley, at least until he could muster up the strength to get up and stumble the rest of the way home.

He wasn’t ready for that yet. At the moment, he just wanted to lay on the hard ground and feel sorry for himself.

He noticed the dark shape emerging from around a corner, deeper in the ally, and sighed with relief. Someone had heard the assault. Now, he could get some help.

“Excuse me, sir, could I get some help please? I-I’ve been attacked, and-”

“Yes, yes,” the stranger said, sounding impatient. “Let’s get going then, the car’s still on.” He held a hand out to help him out, but Casey hesitated. There was something wrong about this situation.

Rolling his eyes, the stranger grabbed Casey’s wrist and yanked him to his feet. He didn’t let go and began to pull Casey deeper into the ally.

For the most part, Casey went along with him. There wasn’t much else he could do; the man had his wrist in a vice-like grip, and Casey was too beat up to really oppose him (not that he could have done much anyways).

So, when Alexei opened the passenger side door for him, Casey clambered in. He didn’t panic when the stranger locked the door (there were a lot of creeps around tonight), didn’t panic when he started to drive further away from Casey’s house (maybe he was taking him to a hospital), didn’t panic when the man pulled a gun on him and told him to shut the fuck up.

Ok, maybe he did panic a bit then, but he didn’t get shot. So that’s something.

Casey’s mind was doing that strange thing where everything felt plastic and jerky, like life was a stop motion movie with a single frame per second.

By the time he felt real again, Casey was sitting on the cold floor, in a room whose door had no handle. There was another person in the room, sitting next to him, a few feet away. Felix he remembered. They had introduced themself when he was still in the haze.

Felix seemed to notice that Casey had come back. “Hey, Casey. Are you… are you alright?”

Slowly, Casey shook his head. “I… I don’t know what-”

“It’s ok,” Felix soothed, “I can explain everything. I… I know how it feels. To be here suddenly, without explanation. You’re in shock. I get it. Just… just breathe.”

Casey sucked in a shuddering breath, then let it out. “I’m… I’m trapped here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He took me here.”

“Alexei? Yes. He brought you here.” Felix let Casey have time to process, to work stuff out on his own. They didn’t want to bring the weight down too early.

Casey closed his eyes and sighed. “God, I’m such an idiot. And now… now what? What does he want with me?”

Felix scooted over closer and gently placed their hand over Casey’s. He gripped on tightly, eyes full of fear and confusion and mist, still clearing as his mind caught up with his reality.

“How about I tell you tomorrow,” Felix whispered. “How about we go to sleep and I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”

Slowly, Casey nodded, and Felix helped them over to a mattress in the corner.

In the morning, the terrible, painful truth would be discovered. But that night, Casey had a few hours of relative peace, of ignorant bliss.

That night, he was able to sleep without nightmares.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #no.10 #stranded #fic #whump #whump writing #whump fic #whumpee #whumptober #gun tw #kidnapping tw #alcohol tw #dissociation tw

[whumpthemusical]

Whump: The Musical Prompts!!

As stated before, this challenge will run from March 1- March 31, 2024. All fandoms are welcome to participate despite it being prompts based off of musicals. Once again, all types of media are allowed. This challenge has the standard "choose one for the day" style, but feel free to do all three prompts if that's what you want to do!! All types of whump are allowed, but please be respectful to your fellow audience members and properly tag it!! Some of these prompts are sensitive, so make sure you warn your readers correctly! There will be an ao3 collection and an FAQ post coming soon, so if you have any further questions or comments about this challenge, feel free to drop me a line. Happy writing, my beautiful ingénues, and enjoy the show :)))

The prompts will be listed under the cut for those who have difficulty reading fonts!!

Cats- Sabotage • Second Chances • "I Can Dream Of The Old Days."

Wicked- Mob Mentality • Propaganda • "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished."

Jesus Christ Superstar- Whipping • Betrayal • "Then I Was Inspired, Now I'm Sad And Tired."

Les Mis- Survivor's Guilt • Failure • "Drink With Me To Days Gone By."

Heathers- Poison • Reluctant Whumper • "Wanna fight for me?"

Newsies- Chronic Pain • Exploitation • "Let 'Em Laugh In My Face, I Don't Care."

The Last Five Years- Infidelity • Gaslighting • "I Will Not Lose Because You Can't WIn."

Hadestown- Deals • Doomed Narrative • "Doubt Comes In."

Sweeney Todd- False Imprisonment • Razors • "Have You Decided It's Safer In Cages?"

Rent- Substance Abuse • Poverty • "Feels Too Much Damn Like Home."

Bare: A Pop Opera- Outing • Religious Trauma • "Please, See Me."

Waitress- Unplanned Pregnancy • Abuse • "She Is Broken And Won't Ask For Help."

Tick Tick Boom- Atychiphobia • Working To Exhaustion • "Is This Real Life?"

Dear Evan Hansen- Deception • Broken Bone • "Words Fail."

West Side Story- Star-Crossed Lovers • Prejudices • "A Boy Who Kills Cannot Love."

Come From Away- Stranded • Aftermath • "Blankets And Bedding And Maybe Some Food."

Spring Awakening- Withheld Information • Suicide  • "I Don't Scream, Though I Know It's Wrong."

Hamilton- Hurricane  • Dueling • "I Will Kill Your Friends And Family To Remind You Of My Love."

Falsettos- Sickness • Identity Issues • "Death Is Not A Friend."

Into The Woods- Blame • Lost • "Nothing But A Vast Midnight."

The Great Comet- Abduction • Letters • "Did You Love That Bad Man?"

In The Heights- Grief • Homesickness • "I Know That I'm Letting You Down."

Be More Chill- Mind Manipulation • Panic Attack • "Everything About Me Makes Me Want To Die."

Moulin Rouge- Class Differences • Sex Work • "Come What May."

Chicago- Cold Blood • Trial • "He Had It Coming."

Six- Execution • Trauma Bonding • "Playtime's Over."

Ride The Cyclone- Unexpected Tragedy • Forgotten Whumpee • "I Hear The Anguish Of The Street."

The Rocky Horror Show- Obsession • Wrong Place, Wrong Time • "I've Seen Blue Skies Through The Tears."

Nerdy Prudes Must Die- Bullying • Ritual • "Who Will Pray For You?"

Jekyll And Hyde- Duality • Good Vs Evil • "If I Die, You'll Die."

Phantom Of The Opera- Disfiguration • Shunned • "My Power Over You Grows Stronger Yet."

#whump: the musical #whump event #whump challenge #whump #whump community #whump writing #whump prompts #whump ideas #whumpblr #musical theatre #musicals #musical theater #broadway #broadway musicals #hamilton #newsies #les miserables #wicked the musical #falsettos #ride the cyclone #nerdy prudes must die #heathers #be more chill #dear evan hansen #moulin rouge #jesus christ superstar #cats the musical #six the musical #phantom of the opera #the great comet

[jordanstrophe]

CW: Kidnapped, restrained, gasoline, threat of immolating, ransom

The scent of gasoline was overwhelming.

"You don't- You don't have to do th-this," Whumpee choked. They were forced to their knees, hands bound to a latch on the floor. Their heart pounded, not able to see what whumper was doing behind them.

"Now now, let's not be that way." Whumper poured liquid over whumpee's head as they practically shouted as the cold ran down their spine. They had to hold their breath as the smell of gas and oil was suffocating.

"I know you don't deserve this." Whumper said, pouring out the last drop. "But if your caretaker brings me what I've asked for, you'll be just fine. You'll go free, and after a shower and change of clothes, this will alllll be over." They carelessly tossed the can to the side as whumpee flinched at the noise.

"All of th- this.... F-fo-for wh- a -at" Whumpee choked out their own words.

"Hey hey hey, don't pass out on me. Shhhh, deep breaths. I want you awake when caretaker comes. It helps with the persuasion, especially if you're crying and all." They pinched at a strand of whumpee's hair and felt gasoline seep between their fingers.

They sat next to them and cupped their jaw, making them face the door. Whumpee's heart nearly stopped beating when they heard a gentle *flick* of a lighter being ignited overhead.

"They'll be here any second now." Whumper whispered in their ear.

"Let's hope for your sake that's the case, anyway."

#whump #whumpee #whumper #caretaker #whump drabble #ransom whump #kidnap whump #kidnapped whumpee #whump angst #gasoline whump #whump scenario #whump writing #fire whump #captive whumpee #whumplr #whump tropes #bound whump #restained whumpee #panicked whumpee

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

unpopular opinion but whump should and deserves to be messy

"Yeah duh there's plenty of scenarios with blood and tears--" no. I want more.

I want pink tinted spit dribbling out of Whumpee's mouth. I want strings of saliva connecting between their busted lip to Whumper's tongue. I want drool running down the corners of their mouths because of a gag that makes it difficult to swallow.

I want sweat making Whumpee feel sticky and clammy to the touch. I want their skin to be slick and soaking into their soiled clothes. I want them to squirm in discomfort of a dirty shirt clinging to their back from precious fluids that are going to risk further dehydration. I want their hair to be continuously damp and hanging in thick strands in their face.

I want the scabs to turn white with pus and black with infection. I want old wounds to tear open and bleed a thick red. I want the pink flesh underneath to pulse and quiver, the sight of yellow fat and cartilage. I want blood vessels and capillaries to burst and spread over an area, I want burns to start brown and peel away to a tender pink.

I want Whumpee to vomit out of their nose because their mouth is gagged. I want bile to reek on their clothing and on their tongue. I want them to grow use to the taste of bitter blood and burning chyme forever in the back of their throat. I want them to have to snort and hack to be able to spit out whatever was still caught on their tongue or risk swallowing it down.

I want their tears to remain unwiped and crusting over their eyes. I want snot to smear over their cheeks and leave their lips uncomfortably tacky. I want their face to remain blotchy and red because they just can't get it clean. I want dirt and blood and skin to build up under their fingernails to the point they risk infecting their own wounds if they try and mess with it. I want Whumpee to only be sprayed down with cold water and an old towel, never any soap and never in all the creases of their body.

I want their bodies caked in grime and viscera and bodily fluids. I want Whumper to never give them the luxury of feeling clean and in fact actively making them more filthy each time. I want Whumpee's clothes yellowed and their hair matted and their skin sickly. I want injuries to never properly heal so that the only option is to amputate the necrosis. I want Whumper to force Whumpee to clean up whatever kind of mess they made by licking it off the floor.

I want arteries to spew like a garden sprinkler. I want the exposed roots of pulled teeth to dangle freely in their mouth. I want Whumpee's hair, including all of their body hair, to grow to unruly lengths that are constantly tangled and ingrown. I want them to find comfort in starving because it means there's nothing to risk throwing up. I want them to scrub their skin raw and bleeding, uncaring how much it aggravates their injuries or how the soap stings, the first chance they're given for a real bath.

I want it to be nasty!!!!!!

#whump #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #whump ideas #implied whump #whump prompt #whump writing #whump tropes #whumpblr #mouth whump #teeth whump #fingore #hand whump #tw blood #tw vomit #im sorry if this is vile but that is simply how i feel #uuuhhhh i tried to tag things i think i mentioned that are yucky but if i missed something lmk #yeah anyways tho -- MESSY GROSS WHUMP!!! MORE THAN JUST TEARS AND A COUPLE DROPS OF BLOOD!!! #whumpee is gonna puke! they're gonna piss their pants! they're gonna be sweaty like a full body work out every day! #and if it's an intimate whumper on top of that??? so many nsfwhump fluids to be added...

[whump-queen]

i just love love love a whumper brutally beating the defiance out of their whumpee—

perhaps it’s only temporary, once their head stops spinning they’ll go back to spitting and cursing at whumper…. but whumper just beats the daylights out of them until theyre dazed and growling and angry— whumpee’s spitting words giving way to more and more humiliating sounds as whumper beats them into the ground again and again —

eventually, there’s just this sound—halfway between a choked gasp and a strangled groan

and whumper finally stops to listen to whumpee’s panted breaths, to wipe the strands of hair from their forehead, to admire how red whumpee’s cheeks have gotten from the embarrassment and whumper’s hand striking them over and over mere moments ago

#mmm conditioning yum #my head’s just full of beatdown scenarios 24/7 #whump prompt #intimate whumper #whump scenario #sadistic whumper #I pulled an all nighter out if’s stress so i’m going to sleep #creepy/intimate whumper #akia.txt #beatdown scenario #my prompts #beatdown

[whumperfultime]

Tarot-Inspired Whump Prompts

I'm enthusiastic about both whump and tarot and those interests were bound to collide at some point. So I wrote a list of writing prompts inspired by the Major Arcana! Five prompts for each card, so there should be something for everyone. Enjoy!

(Also, if you happen to write anything based on any of these, feel free to tag me! I'd be honored to read it.)

The Fool: Accidental whump. Misplaced trust. Leap of faith. Taking a risk. Falling from a high place.

The Magician: Magical whump. Manipulation. Mind control. A charismatic and confident character. A table full of tools for inflicting pain.

The High Priestess: Keeping secrets. Blindfolded whumpee relying on their other senses. Guarding something or someone. Intuitively noticing when something or someone has changed. Cult setting/dynamics.

The Empress: Gilded cage. Lady whump (if you're into that). Comfort in material things. Gentle caretaker. Whumpee not used to experiencing abundance and safety.

The Emperor: Strict whumper and/or strict rules. Royal whump. Wartime. Stoic leader trying to remain calm for the sake of their team. High security.

The Hierophant: Religious whump. Institutionalized whump. Punished for questioning authority. Pressure to conform. Power leading to corruption.

The Lovers: Yandere whump. Sadistic choice. Forced to watch. Protectiveness. Multiple whumpees, whumpers, caretakers, etc.

The Chariot: Car crash. On the run. Kidnapped and forced into a vehicle. Lost and stranded. Unwanted and distressing thoughts.

Strength: Whumpee turned caretaker or whumper. Monster character. Patient caretaker. Animal attack. Emotional support animal.

The Hermit: Isolation. Sensory deprivation. Neglect. Feeling like an outcast. Going into hiding.

Wheel of Fortune: Bad luck. Time heals all wounds. Long-term captivity. Painful anniversaries. Wrong place, wrong time.

Justice: Whumper being arrested. Detached/indifferent whumper or caretaker. Wrongful imprisonment. Privileges vs. punishments. Shutting off emotions so logic can take over.

The Hanged Man: Stress position. Caught in a net. Restrained and abandoned. Hanging. Standing cuffs.

Death: Grief. Recovery milestones. Immortal whumpee dying over and over. Left behind. Visiting a grave.

Temperance: Drugged whumpee. Personality changes due to trauma. Angel character. Poisoning. Mad scientist whumper.

The Devil: Demon character. Sadistic whumper. Addiction and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Pet whump. Collared.

The Tower: Building collapse. Struck by lightning. Drastic change. A character being overpowered. Shocking revelation or betrayal.

The Star: Bathing (whether this is peaceful or whumpy is up to you). Drowning. Finally being able to rest. Anything having to do with recovery. Dehydration.

The Moon: Nightmares. Lost in the woods. Werewolf character. Illusions or hallucinations. Running on pure survival instinct.

The Sun: Sunburn. Public figure whumpee. Forced to perform. First time outside after being held captive. Heatstroke.

Judgement: Revenge. Sound torture. Deity character. Punishment. Resurrected from the dead.

The World: Endings (positive or negative). Breaking the cycle of abuse. Overwhelmed by choices. Regaining personal autonomy. Closure and acceptance (or lack thereof).

#whump prompts #whump ideas #whump community #whumpblr #this was really fun to make and i'm very proud of the finished result #if i get really brave maybe i'll post a scene or story of my own someday

[clickerflight]

October 2023 - Sandstorm: Part 14

We have a very quiet wind down part. Will the quiet last, though? We'll find out :)

Masterlist

Part 13

Content: demon whumpee, mer whumpee, stranded, desert whump, nothing more than a scare here mostly

............................................

The walk the next day was much more encouraging. As they walked, the path became clearer, and then wagon ruts appeared, and then there were cattle appearing in the desert plants around them, plants with much more leaves rather than spikes. 

“Water,” Matsu whispered. 

“What?”

“Water!”

Laurance grinned and the two started to run. They came up over a slight rise and a town revealed itself in the distance. It wasn’t Icta, but there were people. Still, what Laurance and Matsu were more concerned with was the small river that flowed down towards and past the village. 

As they approached the river, giddy with relief, Laurance only just barely managed to notice faint movement in the water. Matsu had nearly reached the edge as Laurance choked out a garbled warning, pulling on the chain to jerk and drag him back as a huge reptile swarmed out of the water, snapping its jaws.

Matsu scrambled back as Laurance backed up quickly and the lizard, annoyed that it missed its meal, sank back into the water moodily. 

“That was a close one,” Laurance panted. Matsu nodded faintly. 

“Let’s head farther downstream and find a better place to get some water,” Laurance said and the two started to travel down the path along the river towards the town. 

“Thanks, Laur.”

“No problem. If you think I was going to let us get this far only to get eaten by some sort of crocodilian, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

The two chuckled as they made their way towards the village. 

There were some people milling about, but it seemed that the village was pretty quiet. As they approached, an older man on a crutch noticed them and waved. 

“Hoi!”

“Hoi!” Laurance called back, glad to see civilization again. “Is there a blacksmith in this town?”

“Aye. He’s out helping tend my flocks while I’m injured,” the man said as the two stopped. “Are you slaves?”

Matsu snorted. “Not if we can help it. There were a couple of men who were trying very hard to make it so, but we escaped.”

The man nodded solemnly, stroking his long beaded beard. “Aye, things have been sad in these parts for a while. The cities need slave labor to get things done. It’s been hard keeping up with the taxes so that we may call ourselves free men. The name’s Jebediah, by the way.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Laurance said, bowing his head to the old man. “I am Laurance and this is Matsu. While we wait for the blacksmith to come back, do you know where we can get some water and food? We’re willing to work for it though it might be hard while our hands are still bound.”

“Aye. I’ll feed you while you wait. You can stay in my barn tonight and tomorrow you can help dear old Petre out with the flock to pay me back.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Matsu said. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. There are some things I’m going to make you help with around my house while we wait, I think.”

Laurance and Matsu shared an amused look and nodded at Jeremiah. “Well, we’re willing to help. As long as we can get some food and water in us first.”

Jeremiah laughed. “Come along then. We’ll get you set up.”

The two of them followed Jeremiah towards his house and Laurance asked, “So, how’d you hurt your leg?”

Jeremiah sighed. “Oh, my fool carromount decided to throw me off one day. She’s always been a bit skittish. Thankfully Petre agreed to help my son out with my flock so I don’t lose any of them.”

“And what sort of animals do you work with?” Matsu asked.

“Just the Lereeps. I used to have a few head of cattle but I had to sell them last season to keep up with the taxes.”

“Has the season been kind to you?” Laurance asked, his adrenaline wearing off. He was tired to the bone, now. He’d have to see if Matsu and Jeremiah would be okay with him taking a nap before they really got to helping out.

In the back of his mind, Laurance also planned out what they would need to do if/when Yor and Kulor caught up. It shouldn’t really be that hard at the end of the day. If the blacksmith could at least free their hands and they found some sort of weapon, Laurance could easily take both of them on. Then they would be free to clear up their debts here and move on. 

“Aye, this season has,” Jeremiah said, relieved. “Well, besides the injury I’ve taken, but that’s what family and friends are for. I watch Petre’s shop for him while he’s out. Not much to take care of after I’ve done the morning chores I’m able to take care of, so it leaves me with free hands for the rest of the day. I feel I’m about to go mad and join the ladies in their weaving.”

“Weaving’s not that bad,” Laurance said with a shrug.

“You weave?” 

“On occasion. My wife is the real weaver of our group, but I join her sometimes when I would like a break from my tasks. You have to admit, the gossip shared by weaving ladies is good entertainment for an afternoon.”

“Aye, it is,” Jeremiah said with a laugh. “I might have to, then. I suppose it is better to do a lady's work than to be completely useless. Ah, here we are.”

The three of them pushed through the curtain that covered the doorway and stepped inside. It was a bit cooler inside with it being in the shade and the windows open to a spare breeze here and there. 

Jeremiah pushed things around on the clay shelves built into the walls and came back with a couple of water skins and bread. He creakily sat down on the well woven rug on the floor and Laurance and Matsu followed suit, Laurance checking his ankle for a moment to see if the run and walk earlier had caused it too much pain now that he was calm and tired. 

Matsu took the waterskin and started downing the water quickly while Laurance started off with eating and then taking a sip of water. 

“Thank you again, Jeremiah,” Laurance said as Matsu started in on his portion of the bread. “I will have to make you a meal tomorrow as thanks.”

“Laurance is really good at cooking,” Matsu said with a nod. “It’ll be good. And when I finish eating, I can take a look at your leg. I am a proficient healer where I come from.”

Jeremiah laughed. “Ah, it seems I have chosen a couple of strangely skilled not-slaves to help. Really, where did you come from?”

Matsu and Laurance shared a look, trying to gauge how much this old man was likely to understand. 

“A country very far away from here,” Matsu said.

“Somewhere with a lot more trees and rain,” Laurance joked in return.

The old man smiled. “I see. Not a place I would know then?”

“Probably not.”

Jeremiah shrugged. “It’s a good enough answer for me,” he said as Matsu finished eating. 

“Okay, I can take a look at your leg now,” Matsu said, putting aside the plate and the waterskin. 

The old man obliged and stretched out his leg for Matsu to take a look at. Laurance laid down, sighing as he was content and full while Matsu spoke lowly over Jeremiah’s injury. 

…………………………………………..

The rest of the day was wonderful. Laurance had fallen asleep while Matsu had helped Jeremiah and had woken up to find the blacksmith had come back to get some food. It wasn’t hard to convince him to try and get their chains open, and while he was able to unlock one of their cuffs each, the other one where the magic chain between the two of them was attached was too imbued with magic to get it off, even with Matsu’s help and they had been unable to get Laurance’s collar off. 

Still, they thought they’d be likely to get the cuffs off in the morning after Petre had some time to sleep on it. Jeremiah had assured Matsu and Laurance that he was the best at this sort of thing and there was never a problem that he had been unable to solve. 

So, after they had visited the ladies of the village and borrowed some proper robes to wear, getting some more food and water, and helping Jeremiah with some chores around his house and Petre’s shop, they laid down in the barn to rest. The barn was more of a shed than a barn with a small area for Jeremiah’s carromount to sleep. 

Matsu and Laurance, who had their full range of motion back but were still connected at the wrists, had made a nest of blankets and soon curled up to sleep. 

Laurance sighed, staring up at the beams of moonlight that made their way in through the cracks in the wood and said, “Alright, we’ll need a plan for when Yor and Kulor catch up.”

“When?” Matsu asked skeptically.

“When, yes. I’m still wearing a collar. It’s likely to have some sort of tracking feature and that’s ignoring the cuffs. They’re expensive. They’re going to have something in them in case they get lost.”

Matsu huffed out a breath, annoyed. “Alright. What’s the plan then?”

“If they catch up tonight, we leave through the back. There’s a loose board there, I think, and we run until we can get to a good position where we can fight. They shouldn’t be too hard to deal with, I think. We’ll leave them with the lawkeeper here, finish up helping around, and then we can see if Petre can get the rest of this off or move onto a city where they might have the resources to help.”

Matsu nodded. “And the same plan applies to if they get here when we’re outside.”

“Yup,” Laurance said. “We’re at the advantage here, now. We know what they want and we know what sort of supplies they have. I’ll see if Petre has something I can use as a weapon if we need to travel to another city tomorrow.”

“Works for me. We’d better get some sleep soon, then, if we’re going to be fighting slavers.”

“Yup. Night, Tsu.”

“Night.”

Part 15

#whump #whump story #october challenge #sandstorm #demon whumpee #mer whumpee #stranded #desert whump #next part is going to be much more exciting #so much more exciting