#BTHB: Original work / Original Characters

[blackrosesandwhump]

The Marvelous Resurrecting Boy, Part 12

Part 11

BTHB: Lacerations

Fandom: Original work

Synopsis: In the aftermath of his friend's attack, Bram repeats his performance of the dying swan...and something happens that he didn't expect.

CW: death, blood, suicide for convenience, drugging reference

“I-I’m so sorry…”

Kian lay in the cot next to Bram’s, staring at nothing, his hands folded across his chest. A white bandage wrapped up his left forearm, lightly tinged with fresh blood.

“I didn’t mean to, really…” Kian said, his voice breaking. “I couldn’t help it…it wasn’t me.”

“I know it wasn’t.” I know that now, anyway, Bram thought. He shifted in his own cot, turning to face the other boy. The motion sent little stabs of pain through the fresh lacerations raked across his torso and arms. “At least it was me and not Ester.”

A couple of tears leaked from Kian’s eyes. “I might’ve killed her. I can’t kill you.” He managed a shaky half-smile.

“True.”

But it hurt. The claw-marks burned. Bram was used to pain, even agony, but usually, he would die and resurrect, and the injuries would be gone. This time, he had to live with the aftermath of Kian’s wild attack.

It wasn’t Kian’s fault, not really. He couldn’t help the effect that the new moon had on him. It was just the type of creature he was: a cambion, a half-human half-demon creature that turned into a monster on the darkest night of every month.

No wonder Griffin wanted to drug him, Bram thought, then immediately hated himself for thinking it.

“All right, you’re both cleared to leave,” the medic announced, breaking through Bram’s thoughts. “Keep those injuries clean and bandaged, and you should both recover just fine.” He made a mark on his pad of paper. “Better get ready for your next performances.”

The next performance. Bram sat up wearily, swung his feet down, and followed Kian out of the medical tent.

The air was slightly warmer today, carrying the faintest hint of spring on a breeze that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Bram took a deep breath. He was alive (for now). And—his pulse sped up at the thought—he might see Violet again in the audience. She might be watching.

That is, if it really was her. His footsteps slowed. What if it wasn’t? What if all this time, she was only a hallucination, a figment of his nightmares?

Even if she is just a hallucination, he answered himself, I still love her.

He looked around and found he’d stopped outside the meal tent. The newest performers were clustered there, the group in which he’d seen the winged boy.

But the winged boy wasn’t there.

***

The Marvelous Resurrecting Boy’s performance of the dying swan garnered an even larger crowd the second time.

Bram shuffled back and forth backstage, sweating slightly under his layer of white feathers. He had a feeling, an unshakable feeling, that she would be there. And if she was, nothing else would matter.

The act before him ended--Kian and Ester together this time—and the audience applauded.

Thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump. His heart took off beating, pounding like it intended to throb itself right out of his chest.

Like last time, the spear pierced him through. He barely noticed the pain as he stepped onto the stage. He played the dying swan as dramatically as ever: the slow, melancholy dance; the blood crimsoning his wings; the tragic collapse as he died.

And as he died, he saw her. She was out there, in the audience, watching him die. Watching him come back to life.

And it looked like…it looked like she was crying—

The shipwreck again—the memory winked out and back—they were standing on a beach together, watching another ship approach the shore—

He came back to life and got shakily to his feet. The noise of the audience overwhelmed him: shouts and cries of acclamation and awe, thunderous applause, the soft pop of a camera close by. He looked around, startled. Someone had taken his photograph. A photograph of the dying swan, covered in his own blood.

Someone took his arm and guided him offstage.

“They shouldn’t make you do that act,” Kian said, still holding onto Bram as he helped him down the wooden steps. “That’s a lot of blood loss, even for you.”

“I guess it is,” Bram murmured, feeling a little dizzy. But it’s worth it. It’s always worth it, to see Violet again—

“Bram.” His handler stood in the way, a peculiar expression etched across his face. “Go clean yourself up, quick as you can, and get back here immediately.”

“Why?” Kian blurted, his eyes flashing yellow for just a moment. “Can’t you see he needs to recover—”

“He doesn’t have time for that,” Bram’s handler said. “Someone wants to buy him.”

@whumping-to-conclusions @whumping-out-of-time @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumpy-writings @afabulousmrtake @whither-wander-whump @whumpinthepot @silver-ink-iron-words @badthingshappenbingo

#whump #whump writing #bthb #bthb card #lacerations #immortal whumpee #impaled #immortality whump #bad things happen bingo #blood #bleeding #original work #suicide for convenience #circus whump #original character #blackroseswrites #whump story #forced drugging #nightmares #memories #inhuman whumpee #flashbacks #oc whump #death wish #drugging reference #recovery whump #death #bleeding out

[obsessedwithegos]

BTHB: Missing And Presumed Dead with Odrin

CWs: Villain whumper, Hero whumpee, Hero presumed dead, Forced to listen, Sensory deprivation to force to listen, Minor character deaths, Past horn whump, Hero temporarily giving up

Note: Canon! Also Frostbite and Frostburn are both referring to Odrin, Cannibeelistic is referring to Bebê! Spoken sentences that are italicized are spoken by random people! Also, this is a very experimental piece, so thoughts on it would be appreciated!

Bebê uses they/he (they/them are used for this) Odrin uses he/it (he/him are used for this) ~~~~ Odrin’s breaths were heavy as he was forced to stare into darkness due to the blindfold around his eyes. 

The only thing he could focus on was the sound of footsteps and muttering coming from the headphones on his ears. 

“Have you seen Frostburn lately? It’s unnerving that he hasn’t been around lately.”

“Didn’t you hear? He got captured.”

“Captured?! By who? By what? What could even capture him?”

“Who else? Cannibeelistic!”

“No way! You listen too much to rumors.”“I’m serious!”

The voices and conversation snippets of citizens were just making him want to fight to try to escape even more, is that what Bebê wanted?? More of a challenge?

The sound of their occasional humming was almost enough to drive him mad. He could feel his breaths getting colder. 

The sound of a bell ringing felt piercing to his ears.

“Hello! Welcome to- Oh no..”

“Hello~!” The fae’s chipper tone made him grit his teeth.

Various mutters and whispers could be heard.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’m just looking for some information, gossip, rumors, what have you! Just give me what I ask for and everyone will leave here without a scratch! Understand?” A snap of fingers could be heard.

What the fuck were they doing?

“What could we know that you don’t?”

“Gossip on the hero!! What’s his name again?... Frozen bone?”

“Frostbite.” “Yes that one. See, I’m missing my little play thing! So.. Where is he? What have you heard?”

What a fucking liar, they knew exactly where he was. What’s the point of this?

There’s silence for a brief moment before the sound of choking could be heard along with sounds of panic.

“Don’t hold back on me now! I want the truth, and I don’t like things being held back from me!”

There is a gasp and coughing. “Okay! Okay!”

“Well? Out with it then!”

“A lot of people.. Think that you captured him. Some think he just.. Disappeared, or gave up hero work to be with his daughter.” The person sounded like they were struggling to speak.

“Now we’re getting somewhere! Going on the theory that I took him, are there any elaborate guesses regarding that?”

Of course they’d want to focus on that.

“Fuck- I don’t know! Just let me-” Audible choking ends that sentence.

“Well, you’re lying and you bore me now! So! Who’s next?”

There’s silence other than the choking in the background. Choking that made Odrin try to struggle against his restraints again as the metal was getting colder against his skin as a result of his magic.

“You! You look fun!”

A scared yelp was heard. The sound of the choking was getting quieter, weaker.

“You’ve heard rumors, yes?” … “Good! Now answer my question, are there any guesses about Frostbite regarding me?”

“HEY! PUT HIM DO-” A yell and a crash echoes out.

“Guys, I’m just trying to get answers here! You guys are making this far more difficult than it has to be!” … “Now.. Answer. The. Question.” 

“Yes, there is.” The voice squeaked out.

“Well.. What are they?” 

“That you’ve imprisoned him, or plan to use him for ransom against the town. There’s- um- Well there’s one that-”

“Out with it.” 

“There’s one that you and him are in a secret relationship and his disappearance is linked to that!”

Despite mostly having ice powers, Odrin felt his face heat up and gritted his teeth. There was NO way they have-

“HAH!” They snorted and laughed. “If only! Though I will admit, that dragon does have his charm!”

Somehow this torture just got even worse. 

“Anything else?” 

“There’s the one that he’s dead.”

“DING DING DING! WE HAVE A WINNER!” Bebê suddenly yells as there’s the sound of something hitting the ground.

The muttering started again, confusion and fear was clear.

“I was wondering when it would be figured out!”

Screams and various sounds of horror could be heard.

“Well? What do you guys think? Wouldn’t they look just lovely above a fireplace mantle?!” They laughed, and as they laughed it finally sunk in.

He was suddenly very aware of his missing horns, horns that Bebê had meticulously sawed and cut off. They were using them as a trophy.

A trophy to attempt to show that he was dead, an attempt to make people lose hope, an attempt to make him give up.

Everything started to sound like static as thoughts ran through his mind. 

Would the people believe Bebê? What if his ex found out and word got to his kid? Would funerals be held for his non-existent death? Would people try to stop fighting against Bebê? Would they try to find a new hero to help them? Would the new hero even care? 

~~~

The light hitting Odrin’s eyes as the blind fold was suddenly taken off was blinding. His ears rang as the headphones were taken off.

Bebê stood in front of him, blood still staining their hands. “Well Mr Frostbite.. How does it feel to be a dead man?” They cooed.

He didn’t respond. He just stared at them before allowing his eyes to drift back down to the floor. 

“Oh please, don’t tell me it was that easy to get you to give up.” They pouted.

No response. 

They sighed. “Alright, well. I have an idea, maybe taking someone else to keep alongside you will get the fight back in you.” They say, promptly turning to leave once more.

Odrin couldn’t get himself to respond. He felt exhausted and drained. People believed he was dead, and right now he couldn’t prove Bebê wrong to the public.

Right now.. There were only two people that knew he was alive, and both of them likely would want to keep it that way; and that thought was despairing enough to make him pause. At least.. For a little while.

~~~~~~~~~~

General: @emmettnet @blackberry-bloody Runaverse (bc it has Bebê!): @whumpsday

BTHB: @badthingshappenbingo

#whump #whump tag #bad things happen bingo #IT'S DONE!!!! I GOT THE WHOLE BOARD!!! 98 PAGES TOTAL!! #Bebê tag #Bebê writing tag #odrin tag #odrin writing tag #hero whumpee #villain whumper #hero and villain #hero and villain whump #minor character death #<multiple #forced to listen #ask to tag #BTHB: Original work / Original Characters

[verkja]

This is a fill for the ‘Public Execution/Torture’ prompt on my BTHB card. It involves a character from my ongoing longer story, but you don’t need to have read that to understand this. It takes place around five years before the start of the main story, anyway.

CWs: Hypothermia, captivity/confinement, starvation, dehydration, betrayal, torture, graphic hand injury, non-graphic whipping, gags, mild-ish mouth whump, asphyxiation, self-harm (to escape restraints), suicidal ideation, mediaeval fantasy-typical psychological mistreatment of a child? Not sure how to tag that last; a child sees some violence, which is normalised in this setting.

This was meant to contain mostly physical pain, but it turned out to have a lot of angst as well. It is somewhat gory, but SFW.

Words: About 5K

‘You’ve got three choices: Leave the wizard behind, hand him over to us, or turn back.’ The guard crossed his arms. Around him, his comrades shifted their weapons meaningfully.

Mures glanced over his shoulder in case any of his companions had ideas about stabbing him in the back, and mentally ran through an incantation he hoped would incapacitate both the guards and his fellow mercenaries. They were in an extremely dangerous area of marshland, and the only safe way ahead lay through the domain of a local lord.

Turning back wasn’t feasible, because the company’s current contract was time-sensitive. They could go around, but even with a party of eight, that would be quite risky. Alone, it would be suicide, which was why he fully expected his companions to attack him - they’d know he had no chance of going back or around on his own, so being left behind and handed over were equally death sentences.

Laurent, the company’s leader, exchanged looks with a few of the others before addressing the guard.

‘We’ll find another way,’ he said. ‘Abandoning a companion would be against our code.’

Mures was so surprised, the words of his prepared spell vanished from his mind without a trace. While the company had never been especially hostile towards him, nothing had suggested they considered him anything more than a useful, but ultimately disposable, asset. Most of them had been together for years, too, while he’d only joined recently because they needed a spellcaster for this job.

‘Suit yourself,’ said the guard, shrugging. ‘I wouldn’t be caught dead out there, but then I wouldn’t be reckless enough to keep a dark wizard around in the first place. Guess that’s why they pay you more than me.’

The party was quiet as they headed back the way they had come. Mures kept waiting for one of them to object, or for Laurent to laugh and say they’d been playing a joke on him. Instead, they walked in silence for a short while before stopping to make camp. It had already been close to sunset when they’d turned around.

The sorcerer hesitated by his bedroll as the others prepared for sleep. After a few minutes of conflicted uncertainty, he approached Laurent.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Turning back at the border was - er, it was a very generous decision on your part. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you don’t regret making it.’

‘I’m pleased to hear that,’ said Laurent. ‘As long as you work for us, we’ll have your back. This company doesn’t sell people out.’

Mures couldn’t reply for a moment; his throat felt tight. ‘Thank you,’ he said again once he could speak, uncomfortably aware he still sounded a bit choked.

He returned to his bedroll with an unaccustomed warmth filling his chest and burning behind his eyes. In the three years he’d been working as a mercenary, this was the first time he’d been truly included as a member in a company which valued loyalty, and wasn’t just a loose collection of people working on the same mission.

It wouldn’t come to anything in the end - they’d split up when the contract was done and he’d never see Laurent or the others again - but right now, they’d taken a risk because they thought he was worth it. They were mistaken. Even so, he found himself smiling so widely it hurt as he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, it was still dark, and someone was winding a rope around his wrists while someone else pinned him down; a third person gripped his throat with enough force to prevent him from breathing. He tried to yank his hands away, but the rope pulled tight and the person holding it tied it off with a grunt of satisfaction.

‘Can he cast without using his hands?’

‘Not sure.’ That was Laurent’s voice. ‘I don’t think so, but might as well be safe. Someone get me something to - no, not a cloth, he might choke on it. That’ll do.’

The hand strangling him let go, and he instinctively took a deep breath. Someone shoved a hard object - it felt like a chunk of wood, maybe part of a stick - into his mouth as soon as he did, then wound a piece of fabric around his head to keep it in place. They tugged the edge of the cloth down below his nose to ensure he could breathe. This was less of a relief than it might have been under other circumstances.

An arm looped under his shoulder and yanked him upright. Looking around, Mures saw half his companions standing nearby with expressions of mild relief while the others packed up their gear. The faint light slipping over the hazy marsh suggested it was just before dawn.

Laurent stood a few steps to the left, brushing his hair back from his eyes. ‘Sorry about this,’ he said, ‘but it’s the best option all around. I’ve seen your spellwork, and I didn’t fancy risking that by leaving you at the border. Better to let the guards deal with you while we continue on.’

The sorcerer glared at him, trying to convert all the fear and hurt he felt into anger and direct it at the mercenary leader. It only sort of worked.

As the company headed back towards the border, Mures tried to think of a way out of the situation. When they’d first set off, he’d refused to follow, but a speartip set lightly between his shoulder blades had quickly put a stop to that. He could try grovelling - while verbal begging was currently impossible, if he dropped to his knees and maybe cried on Laurent’s boots they’d probably get the message - but he had nothing to offer that he hadn’t already promised the night before, and this wasn’t a personal enough affair that playing to the mercenaries’ pride would do anything.

He could push himself backward onto the spear. It wouldn’t be the neatest way to die, but whatever the lord of the lands ahead had in store was probably much worse. In fact, he didn’t know why Laurent hadn’t just killed him to begin with; maybe it was some sort of honour thing that applied even to him, where company loyalty clearly did not.

Thinking about that, and how happy he’d been last night, made his eyes burn; he blinked rapidly and focussed on the gradually brightening sky to distract himself. No, he wouldn’t kill himself yet. While he deserved to die, the other mercenaries did not deserve to kill him after what they’d done this morning. Everyone involved in the ordeal was a bad person.

There was a different guard waiting at the narrow bridge crossing into the lord’s domain, slouching against a railing. She stood up as the company approached, looking alarmed but intrigued, and gestured to the soldiers on the other end of the bridge.

‘Good morning!’ Laurent called when they drew near. ‘We were here last night; they said we could pass if we gave you the dark wizard, here?’

‘Uh, yes, I suppose,’ the guard said. She directed her comrades to grab Mures by the elbows and haul him off to the side. ‘What changed your mind?’

‘Nothing, we just wanted to be safe about it. Always planned to hand him over, so you can tell your friend from yesterday they pay us for our smarts, not our recklessness, hm?’

‘Uh, sure.’ The guard straightened her feathered cap and coughed as the mercenaries headed over the bridge. A few of them gave Mures apologetic glances as they passed, but most ignored him. Laurent was already chatting with a comrade about the road ahead.

The guards didn’t seem entirely sure what to do with the sorcerer. After a brief debate, they led him down the road to a stable, where they threw him over the back of a mule and set off for the lord’s castle.

It wasn’t a comfortable trip. The edge of the mule’s saddle dug into Mures’ ribs, and every step jolted the stick or whatever it was against the roof of his mouth, and irritated the splinter that had made its way into his tongue. He was almost relieved when they arrived and handed him off to a pair of rather more official-looking guards, who dragged him downstairs to a small but sturdy dungeon.

Once there, they replaced the rope around his wrists with a pair of iron shackles, then removed the gag. In doing so, they both drove the splinter in deeper and tilted it enough to rip slightly.

Mures spat out blood and fragments of bark. ‘I don’t know why your lord’s bothering with me when he clearly doesn’t care about border security. The guards at the bridge are utter incompetents.’

One of his captors sniggered. ‘You’re right there, I’ll grant you.’

‘Oy, my sister’s stationed at the bridge,’ said the other mildly, ‘you watch your tongue.

‘Dark magic’s a capital crime in this area,’ he explained to Mures. ‘Oughtn’t to have come this way if you knew that.’

‘Obviously I did not know,’ the sorcerer hissed. ‘Why don’t you just leave me at the border, then? I’ll find another way to go.’

It would be dangerous, and probably fatal, but travelling through the marsh alone was preferable to waiting on the lord’s mercy or, more likely, lack thereof. At least whatever killed him would probably be quick.

‘No, you’re in for it now,’ the first guard assured him, tugging on the shackles to make sure they were too tight to slip off over his hands. She shoved him into a cell; he couldn’t catch himself with his hands behind his back, and hit the stone floor hard on his knees and then one shoulder. He bit his lip, not as a result of the fall but to balance out the pain afterwards; the landing had jarred his bad knee, along with what felt like every other joint in his body.

‘Lord should come to a verdict in a few days,’ called the guard with the sister as he headed back upstairs with his partner. ‘Enjoy the peace while you can.’

The lord took longer than a few days. Judging by the light outside the narrow dungeon window, he took about six. It was long enough that Mures stopped feeling hungry, although he hadn’t eaten since his last night with the mercenaries. Water wasn’t a problem - the cell had an ingenious system of grates in various places which allowed for a tiny, continuous stream to run along the wall - and he’d managed to move his shackled hands to the front of his body by easing them under his legs, so he’d been able to pull the splinter out of his tongue as well.

He couldn’t escape the cell, but it really was almost peaceful. It would have been more so if he were not most likely waiting for execution, and if the reason he’d ended up there at all didn’t creep back into his mind every time he began to fall asleep. Still, his heart sank when the guards eventually reappeared. They were less amiable this time, roughly shackling his hands behind him again and not responding to his half-hearted jabs at the accommodations.

It was a cloudy day, at least, so the sunlight didn’t sting his eyes too badly as the guards pushed him up the stairs. They brought him along the road away from the castle, just past a copse of gnarled trees, to a clearing where a crowd of people were gathered in an informal circle. Most were peasants, judging by their garb, while the drowsy-eyed man in tilsent robes was probably the lord, and the comparatively well-fed people flanking him seemed like officials of some kind. There were a few more guards of the more competent-looking sort.

One of the officials began reading a document aloud. Upon realising it was just a general condemnation of dark magic, Mures stopped paying attention and assessed the situation instead. Running clearly wouldn’t work. He wasn’t notably fast to begin with, and currently his legs felt like jelly. There was no river he could try to jump into to get away. He couldn’t use magic with his hands shackled, and simply asking the lord to let him go would probably make things worse rather than better. Mures knew quite well he wasn’t a likeable person.

At least it didn’t look like they had set up for an execution. Despite the many trees, no one was carrying a rope as far as he could see, and there was a distinct lack of axes and chopping blocks. One of the guards held a whip, but that was fine, not good but not too bad as far as torture methods went. There was only so much they could do with it before killing him, and he doubted they were committed enough to actually do that in such a visceral way. The only thing that concerned him was a chain he saw hanging behind the official currently speaking, which presumably connected to something -

‘-and shall be hung in chains until three weeks past his death.’

Oh. Well, then. Apparently he’d underestimated the lord’s brutality. Criminals were usually not gibbeted until after execution, as a warning to people passing by. Perhaps this was an exception made for especially despicable prisoners such as dark wizards, because it amounted to a slow death by exposure.

The chain was connected to a cage, as Mures saw when the official closed her scroll and stepped to the side. It was a little less than half the height of a person, mostly cylindrical, flat on the bottom and rounded at the top. Bars ran around it horizontally and vertically, the square gaps in between about the size of a hand with fingers spread. A latch, currently open, allowed one side to swing outwards.

Before he could contemplate the cage any further, his escorts shoved him into a clear space some ways in front of the lord, and the guard holding the whip got to work. In a way, the pain was a welcome distraction, since it kept him from focussing on the extended and miserable fate awaiting him.

In another way it was extremely unwelcome, because it hurt a lot. Mures curled into a ball, but since his wrists were shackled behind his back, the whip still struck his hands and arms. The guard, fortunately, didn’t seem very enthusiastic, and his strokes weren’t targeted to maximise pain.

Despite this, by the time the guard stepped back to allow a few of his comrades to pick the sorcerer up, Mures was shaking and felt like he was about to faint. He didn’t - couldn’t - resist as they forced him into the cage, pushing his knees against his chest so he was sitting folded up inside it. They unlocked the shackles, keeping a firm grip on his wrists, and yanked his hands through the gaps in the bars, skinning his knuckles on the rough iron. Refastening the shackles outside the bars, they swung the cage shut and closed the latch.

The sorcerer snapped out of the daze he’d been in after the whipping as the guards hauled on the chain, lifting the cage off the ground so it hung from a large tree. The peasants in the crowd, who had watched the proceedings mostly in silence until now, gave a few hurrahs for the guards’ efforts and then proceeded to jeer at Mures. He couldn’t make out most of the words, but they didn’t seem to be particularly insightful comments.

‘I suppose this is your idea of a well-spent afternoon,’ he said loudly, hoping it actually was afternoon and hating how his voice shook; he should’ve waited until the effects of being whipped wore off before speaking. ‘You don’t have anything better to do with your time? Harvesting things, or herding your livestock, or anything other than -’

He was cut off by part of a cabbage hitting him in the face. It wasn’t especially painful; this was because it was soft and slippery with rot. Mures grimaced and shook his head to dislodge it from his shoulder, where it had fallen, but was interrupted by a second cabbage and then a turnip, which hurt significantly more, also aimed approximately at his face.

After a few more abortive attempts to speak, all thwarted by various types of produce, Mures gave up on responding to the audience’s abuse and rested his face against his knees. This worked until the peasants gathered enough courage to approach and poke him with sticks and farming implements, at which point he went back to insulting them because there was no more point in trying to protect himself.

At last, as the sun drowned in the waters of the marsh, the peasants lost interest and headed home for the night. The lord and his officials, along with the guards, had departed some time earlier.

Mures shut his eyes and leaned his head against the bars, letting out a ragged sigh. His whole body hurt - from whiplashes, bruises, and the strain of flinching away from so many impacts in such a confined space. He hoped the peasants were satisfied with the entertainment they’d gotten today and wouldn’t return tomorrow, but wasn’t optimistic about it.

As the pain faded from sharp agony into a duller ache, his thoughts turned away from his immediate circumstances and wandered down less pleasant paths. The sorcerer tried to keep his breathing calm as the inevitability of his impending, prolonged death sunk in for the first time since he’d realised what was going to happen to him. It was terrifying, but still preferable to reflecting on how he’d ended up imprisoned to begin with.

He didn’t sleep that night. Though it was summer, and quite warm, the iron cage was cold, and his recent period of starvation left Mures even less able to regulate his body temperature than usual. By morning, he was exhausted - and on top of all the other discomfort, his knees hurt from being bent so sharply.

If he pushed against the bars behind him with his shoulders, he could take some of the weight off his heels and tailbone; if he leaned forward as much as possible, he could straighten out his neck. But no movement he could make allowed him to significantly change the angle of his knees, and his feet couldn’t fit through the gaps in the bars due to their placement. It didn’t help that one knee was prone to aching anyway after another torture-related incident years ago.

The day passed with terrible slowness. To his surprise, the crowd of peasants did not reappear; the only visitors he had were a few birds, a young farmer who spent a couple of minutes prodding him in the neck with a stick, and a lot of flies, which swarmed around him to feed on the rotten vegetable matter from the previous day’s fun. He exchanged barbs with the farmer, but his voice was hoarse from lack of water, and he wasn’t sure how much of what he said was audible.

The next night and day were much the same, though he did manage to sleep for a few uneasy hours. By the third sunset, Mures was drifting in and out of awareness, dehydration and exhaustion confusing his sense of time and space until he forgot whether he was hanging from the gibbet in the marsh, or locked in the dungeon in his old tower, or in a different dungeon where he’d been briefly imprisoned about a year ago.

In more lucid moments, he cried a little about what had happened with Laurent’s company; he’d tried to avoid thinking about it, but at this point he lacked the energy to maintain any kind of mental defence. It didn’t hurt that they’d handed him over to the guards; it hurt that for a few hours, he’d believed that they wouldn’t. He’d been foolish not to try incapacitating them as soon as the border guard had made his offer - maybe he would’ve failed, and died as a result, but at least it would have been quick and he wouldn’t have had the chance to think that someone valued him.

Some time after the last of the light was gone, Mures jerked awake to discover it was raining. Chilly water ran along the bars of the cage, drenching his robes and stringy hair; he was shivering hard enough that his bruised wrists chafed against the shackles. At least dehydration was no longer a problem, but freezing to death wasn’t a significantly more attractive prospect.

It wasn’t less attractive, either. Mures half-hoped the warm summer night would grow colder and end all of this. He hadn’t gotten to see the things he wanted to before dying, but he was going to die anyway, so it might as well be quick, even if he didn’t really deserve that.

The night did not get colder. Mures remained freezing and miserable throughout the endless hours before dawn, but he did not die, and the rain gradually faded away as the sun rose. It was abominably cheerful. There was even a rainbow. The sorcerer muttered a curse at the incongruous weather. It did little to improve his mood. The water had restored his mental clarity, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Around noon, he was distracted from contemplating his increasingly bony kneecaps by a light impact on his left foot. Craning to the side, he saw a few blades of marsh grass slip off the toe of his boot and fall piece by piece to the ground. Near the base of the tree serving as a gibbet stood a young child, who had apparently thrown the clumsy missile.

‘Shove off,’ he said, voice a cracked, thready rasp.

The child - a girl, he thought, small and very grubby - shook her head and lobbed another handful of grass at him. This one flew more accurately and hit him in the face. While it didn’t weigh enough to be painful, having wet grass stuck in his mouth and clinging to his damp hair wasn’t especially pleasant.

‘Stop throwing grass at me,’ he hissed. ‘What are you doing here in the first place?’

‘My sister said you died and my brother said you didn’t die yet, and they’ll give me a sweet for coming to see,’ the child informed him. She threw another bunch of grass, but missed completely this time.

‘Yes, well, I haven’t died yet. Why are you throwing things at me?’

‘Everyone threw vegetables at you before because you’re bad.’

‘You saw that, did you?’ Mures sighed.

‘I was there.’

He couldn’t really argue with the straightforward reasoning. ‘Go ahead then, I suppose. I’ll just… have grass on me. Fine.’ Shutting his eyes, the sorcerer rested his forehead against his knees.

‘Why were you bad?’

He turned his head to one side. The child had sat down at the base of the tree; she was still ripping up handfuls of grass, but absently, and didn’t seem intent on throwing them.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘Why did you become an evil wizard?’

‘I…’ That was a difficult question. He could say he hadn’t had much choice, but that wasn’t true; he’d always had an alternative. If he hadn’t been so fixated on seeing something better out in the world - if he hadn’t read all those folktales and gotten the idea that there was something better to see - maybe he would have killed himself long ago, and done everyone a favour.

However, he didn’t think he should tell the child that. Mures had very little experience with children, as they tended to avoid sinister towers, and usually lacked the funds to employ mercenary groups; and he hadn’t had much of a childhood himself. Still, it was probably best not to suggest suicide as a means of escaping problems to someone at such an impressionable age.

‘I didn’t think I could become anything else,’ he said instead.

‘Stupid,’ said the child. ‘You should’ve become a farmer. What’s wrong with your eye?’

‘What do you think?’ he asked tiredly. What was wrong was a cataract that had formed after blunt trauma, but people often assumed the cloudy lens was the result of dark magic.

‘It’s because you’re old,’ she said after a moment’s contemplation. ‘Granny has two white eyes. You only have one because she’s older than you. I have none because I'm not old yet.’

That was… certainly not true, but it was a much kinder explanation than usual, or than the real one. ‘I like that idea,’ he whispered, blinking back tears.

The child seemed to take that as confirmation, because she wandered away shortly afterward. Mures cried for a while and then fell back asleep; last night’s rain hadn’t allowed for even interrupted rest.

The next morning, a group of shepherds stopped on their way past the gibbet. They taunted him for a while, but he couldn’t muster the energy to respond. When they grew bored, they switched to throwing rocks at him. 

One of them got out a sling, letting her cast missiles with significantly more force. Mures choked on a scream as a stone struck his left hand, snapping what felt like every bone inside it. He hoped the next one would hit him in the head and either knock him out or kill him, but this didn’t happen. Not long after breaking his hand, the shepherds left and he was alone again.

And he was much worse off than before, because in addition to hurting a lot, the broken hand offered a choice that he didn’t really want to have. The bones were shattered badly enough that he could feel them shifting and scraping against one another, moving in ways they weren’t supposed to - ways that changed the shape of the hand significantly enough he was pretty sure he could pull it through the shackle if he tried.

Mures didn’t want to try. Forcing his hand through the shackle would hurt, and then he’d have to get out of the cage, and try to focus enough to escape before anyone else came along, and all of it would hurt, and he was tired, so tired, and he just wanted to stay where he was until he died and got all of this over with.

But there was still a ruthless spark of hope in the back of his mind that wouldn’t go out, no matter how much he wished it would. If he didn’t even try, he’d die knowing that he might have been able to see at least one thing in his life that was worth seeing if he’d just been a little braver.

He braced his shoulders against the cage and used his uninjured hand to grab the cuff on the opposite wrist. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his left arm up and forwards as hard as he could. There wasn’t as much resistance as he’d expected. His hand squished in a deeply unsettling and painful way, and then it was out, and he could move his arms freely.

Half-coughing, half-sobbing, Mures used his right hand to undo the latch on the cage. His shoulders screamed at him, and as soon as the door swung open and his feet slid out, his knees and waist joined in. The change in position threw the cage off-balance, and he tipped out of it and fell to the ground.

The pain was almost enough to make him pass out, but not quite. Digging his nails into his arm, he tried to gather a semblance of composure; when his mind was roughly in one piece again, he cast a spell to access the small pocket between dimensions in which he stored his most valuable items. From this he fetched a tin of magical salve, almost empty, and used the very last of its contents to restore his left hand to working order.

He didn’t move for a while after that. It would be wise, he knew, to try and massage his joints or even just stretch until he could at least approximate standing, but it took over an hour before he could bring himself to attempt it. By the time he heard someone approaching along the road, he was just about able to sit upright without immediately collapsing in agony again.

The traveller was a peasant leading a mule, which was pulling a small cart. He didn’t notice Mures sitting beside the road until he’d drawn quite close, and by then it was too late for him to do anything.

The sorcerer had never especially liked blood magic, but it was undeniably useful in a pinch. He took control of the blood running through the unfortunate peasant’s veins and used it to lift him into the air. When the man tried to scream, Mures immobilised the blood vessels in his lung tissue, preventing even the beginnings of a sound.

He threw the peasant off to the side of the road and dragged himself into the cart, which contained radishes. The mule seemed undisturbed by the change in circumstance, perhaps because it had happened so quietly, and started moving again willingly enough when he directed it to. He held onto the blood spell as long as he could without risking permanent damage to the farmer, then let it fade.

Though he’d never liked radishes much before, after over a week without food Mures found them quite appetising. He steered the mule away from the road and well to the side of the lord’s castle, following a smaller path that led onward through the domain. The route passed by a few fields and cottages, but as long as he stayed low in the cart, he just looked like any other resident taking a break as he transported the latest harvest.

From what he remembered, the lord’s domain stretched to the edge of the marshland, and the lands after that were moderately safe. If he could make it that far he could set a course for a nearby city, and perhaps pick up a new contract with a new group. He sincerely hoped he wouldn’t run into Laurent and company on the way.

_______

There is a sort-of illustration for this piece here, showing Mures waiting in the cell.

#mures gets a harder time than the other characters because he's so much *fun* #it's a compliment really :') #whump writing #my writing #cw:torture #cw:starvation #cw:hand injury #cw:captivity #cw:suicide #cw:mouth injury #cw:asphyxiation #cw:gore #or references to all the above #hypothermia #bthb #badthingshappenbingo #prompt: public execution/torture #fandom: original work #gibbeting #gets its own tag because i did a research post about it

[serenescribe]

Poll: Help me pick my next TWST longfic! [FINISHED]

Hello everyone!

As most of you may know, I am quite the avid longfic writer. However, university's been slowing me down a lot, so I've been unable to write as quickly as before. So why not poll some of my fic ideas and let you all decide?

I'll include some brief, rambling summaries of the options below the cut! The poll will run for seven days, and the winner will be the longfic I focus on next! (That isn't to say I won't write other things since inspiration is fickle and some of these are semi-completed, but for the most case, my priority will be whatever wins!)

[Summaries under the cut!]

i. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Locked in a Freezer Epel-focused! I originally started working on this in April but shelved it because I was more focused on writing Diasomnia. That and I also did not look forward to writing Rook... Still, the benefit of this option is that It's already 2/3 finished, with the first two chapters done, so it would be done a lot faster. I'd feel pretty keen on finishing it sooner if there was interest expressed.

ii. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Barely Conscious Silver-focused! A bad end AU of the Fairy Gala remix event... and that's about all I can say about it. Compared to the other options, it wouldn't be as long, so I could see it being done faster. It would not have a definitive conclusion, being a bad end of an event, but if you like Silver suffering, this is the one for you!

iii. Bad Things Happen Bingo: On the Run Sebek-focused, along with the first years! I originally wanted to write this for Halloween this year, but quickly shelved that idea due to realising how much Uni sapped my energy. This is one of the two options here that would be rated Mature, along with warnings of Major Character Death. It was meant to be a Halloween fic, after all.

iv. Bad Things Happen Bingo: This Is For Your Own Good Silver and Lilia-focused. What can I say about this AU without revealing too much...? This is the other option that would be rated Mature. It gets truly fucked up and dark in the latter half, and bad things truly does happen. It would also be one of the longest fics in the BTHB series, as I'm envisioning two very long chapters. All the same, this is arguably the idea I'm most excited to write. So if that means anything to you (trust in my tastes, perhaps?) you might want to consider voting for this!

v. Bad Things Happen Bingo: Hope Is Scary Silver-focused, though Lilia comes in later. This is arguably the least developed of all the ideas here, however it was a really good idea that Olive thought up and gave me permission to write. A lot of Silver suffering in this one! And being alone. The prompt is literally about losing all hope and not wanting to hope again in case it gets dashed.

vi. Reverse Containment Breach AU: Starchild Lilia and Silver-focused. This is based on Olive's Reverse Containment Breach AU, of which I'd previously written a ficlet for here with Malleus and Sebek. Think something SCP-esque with an organisation studying strange subjects. Head Researcher Lilia Vanrouge stumbles upon a boy who fell from space one night, and that's when everything slowly goes off the rails. I actually finished about 1/3 of this? So it's partially started.

vii. PMMM AU: Lilia Longfic Lilia and Silver-focused. What it says on the tin. Mica and I's PMMM AU, which isn't 1:1 with canon but Lilia takes the role of Homura, and Silver as Madoka. Time loops and general suffering and angst. If you know how Madoka plays out, you know how this one's going to go.

#housekeeping tag #going to tag some twst stuff so this can show up in search #twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfiction #twst writing #i'm scheduling this to go up while i'm probably asleep btw #reblogs are appreciated! you can idk. convince others to vote for an option? i welcome that

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Fic Roundup!

Febuwhump (@febuwhump) is over, and Bad Things Happen Bingo (@badthingshappenbingo) is nearly complete! Here's a quick roundup of how it went...

Your favourite fic:-

This is probably between I Love You / Sole Survivor which got the biggest reaction on Tumblr, and A Fair Price To Pay which had more love on AO3. They're at the opposite ends of the scale in word count (300 vs nearly 10k) but I guess what they have in common is how much you all love Crosshair and want him to be redeemed :)

My favourite fic:-

Despite it being a massive stress which I barely finished on time, posting at five minutes to midnight, I loved writing Adrenaline Crash! My favourite phrase was 'the crepitus of broken bones' and I was really pleased with the ending where I described Omega 'digging her fingers into the cracks in Hunter's armour' - yes, I meant it literally and metaphorically!

The one I want to write more of:-

There's actually a couple of these fics I want to write epilogues for - Presumed Dead and A Fair Price To Pay are the main ones. But I'd also love to do a rewrite of Human Weapon / Worked Themselves To Exhaustion (also known as the Birthday Cake Fic) with more time to develop my version of the Batch living happily on Pabu, and featuring more of the characters for Omega to interact with!

And now for the stats:-

Total Word Count This Month - approximately 40,000 Longest Fic - A Fair Price To Pay, 9675 words Shortest Fic - Left For Dead, 135 words New Followers - 11! (I'm so excited to have you along and I hope you've enjoyed the stories!)

Future Plans?

I'm going to go write those epilogues, and then it's back to my WIP fic Pieces Of The People We Love! If you enjoyed the Cadet Batch stories I've posted for Febuwhump, this is where to find more of it - Part 3 should be coming soon :) I have three more squares to cross off of my Bad Things Happen Bingo square: Kick Them Whilst They Are Down, Self-Surgery and Going Into Hiding. Got an idea you can donate? Drop me a fic request, because in the short-term I have wrung my imagination dry ^^;

Lastly a huge thank you to everyone who has followed, reblogged, commented, and liked my fiction this past month. Re-reading the tags on the reblogs was great when I was feeling unmotivated, and it's so fun to know you've enjoyed reading my stories as much as I've enjoyed telling them! Thank you for all your support! <3

And a quick summary of everything I've written in the past month:-

Bad Batch - Cadet Batch Day 21 - Unresponsive / Asthma Attack Day 25 - Lightning Strike Day 1 - Helpless / Caught in a Snare Day 14 - Blood-Stained Tiles / Ice Pack Day 24 - "I'm doing this because I care about you" / Victim Blaming

Day 26 - "Help Them" / Compelling Voice

The Bad Batch Day 2 - Solitary Confinement / Bruises Day 4 - Obedience / Conditioning Day 7 - Suffering in Silence / Chronic Illness Day 8 - Found Footage Day 16 - "I love you" / Sole Survivor Day 18 - Too Weak To Move / Bundled Up In Blankets Day 23 - Presumed Dead

Day 5 - Rope Burns / Bound & Gagged Day 12 - Semi-Conscious / Over-the-Shoulder Carry Day 19 - Please Don't / Adrenaline Crash

Day 11 - Time Loop / Cabin Fever Day 27 - Left for Dead Day 28 - "No... not like this" Day 29 - Not Allowed To Die Day 15 - A Fair Price To Pay ("Who did this to you" / Tortured for Information) Day 22 - Human Weapon / Worked Themselves to Exhaustion Bonus BTHB Fic - Elusive: A Stardust Conspiracy Fanfic ("I know you're in there somewhere" fight)

Other/Original Fiction Day 10 - Killing in Self Defence (Mass Effect) Day 9 - Last Words Day 3 - "Bite down on this" / Dissociation Day 20 - Truth Serum Day 13 - "You weren't supposed to get hurt" / Scar to Remember Day 6 - "You lied to me" / Angry Mob Day 17 - Human Shield / Impaled Chest

#febuwhump #badthingshappenbingo #writing challenge #tumblr writer #ao3 writer #fanfic writer #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #original fiction #fic roundup

[gali-la]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

I'm too introverted for this I don't know five writers—

My five favorite works!! Oh god that's a hard one. Let's see...

I'm gonna have to go with "Beneath the Skin, Through the Heart," "Moth to a Flame," "Shared Cigarettes," "Savage Little Beasts," and "'Til all my sleeves are stained red (from all the truth I've said)."

Ahh, that was so hard to choose. I'll put in some more details below in case anyone's interested~

Beneath the Skin, Through the Heart

Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Katakuri/Rosinante Summary: Katakuri and Rosinante try to get a little more into the... intimate side of a relationship, but some hidden secrets ruin those plans pretty fast. Notes: This came completely out of the blue, to be honest. I got this image of fem!rosi with kata stuck—like, properly stuck—in my head and then everything just got worse. this thing had no plot originally, but then I decided it was going to take place in the canon universe, and everything just kind of... escaped my fingers like a fever dream afterwards. It was a lot of fun!! I love it a whole lot tbh probably gonna stay in my heart for a long time.

Moth to a Flame

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationships: Crocodile/Doflamingo Summary: Be in my quarters at 14:00, the little note read. Unmistakably Crocodile’s neat-but-distracted-by-more-important-things-than-you scrawl, Doflamingo felt his perpetual grin grow ever wider. Even he felt a bit of disbelief when it happened, his skin about two millimeters from splitting already. What a pleasant surprise. If only Doflamingo knew what was truly waiting for him. Notes: This was the kick off to my BTHB! I wrote it for someone who I knew would enjoy this type of thing, and to my great relief, they did enjoy the work! It was my first time writing something quite so... disturbing, so I was of course apprehensive, but it turned out better than I expected! I have higher hopes for the rest of my BTHB now <3

Shared Cigarettes

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Bell-mére/Rosinante Summary: She thought that maybe if they had had more time, if they had been able to do all those things he wanted, she would have been able to love him properly. She would have been able to love him like he deserved—not just echoed the feeling, through wide-puppy-dog-smiles and ruffled-mussed-blond-hair and shared-smokey-cigarette-air and the brushing of fingertips they decided counted as hand-holding. Notes: This one was super bittersweet. My first ever corabelle!! The writing style was a little out of my norm, but it's my baby nonetheless. I just liked thinking of the what-ifs of Bell-mere and Rosinante's relationship—especially after these two masterpieces: set in stone and matching set love em love em love emmmm <33

Savage Little Beasts

Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Relationships: Hancock & Crocodile Summary: Hancock finds something in common with Crocodile, and they get along better than expected Notes: I have never in my life written or would have even thought of writing something from Boa Hancock's POV, but holy cow, this one was a whole lot more fun than I thought it would be. It's a little less cutesy, but it's focusing on their pets! Adorable bananawanis and Salome <3

And finally,

'Til all my sleeves are stained red (from all the truth I've said)

Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roger/Rayleigh Summary: 5 times Rayleigh discovers something his captain's hiding, and one time his captain comes to him Notes: This one was for Rarepair Month!! I don't know how I managed to write nearly 1k a day, but god, that sad ending was quite an exercise in "don't turn this into a happy ending it needs to be canon compliant". every fluff-loving bone in my body was miserable.

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I'll send it out diligently o7

#one piece #fanfic #one piece fanfic #crocodile #doflamingo #donquixote “corazon” rosinante #katakuri #katacora #dofuwani #r2 #rogerray #gol d roger #silvers rayleigh #boa hancock #corabelle #bell mere

[foxywrites]

F0XY'S BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO MASTERLIST

I had been so excited to get and start on my Bad Things Happen Bingo and finally I have started writing for it!

ORIGINAL LINKS FOR 'BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO'

Where you can Ask for a Bad Things Happen Bingo Card! Bad Things Happen Bingo Tumblr Account Bad Things Happen Rules Bad Things Happen AO3 Collection

F0XY'S BTHB LINKS

BTHB Series

THE PROMPTS (and the fandom's that I will be writing using it for + who the event's will be surrounding

?? & ?? || Tears of Fear ?? & ?? || Put Down Your Gun and Step Away ?? & ?? || Stalking Andrew Minyard / Neil Josten || Tampering with Food/Drink [devil's come out when the sun goes down] Andrew Minyard & Neil Josten || Held at Gunpoint [to hunt a rabbit] Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya || Internal Bleeding [at least the war is over] ?? & ?? || Collared and Chained ?? & ?? || Stumbling and Staggering ?? & ?? || Therapy Session ?? & ?? || Captivity ?? & ?? || Witholding Medical Treatment Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya || Hurts to Breathe [to burn for your love] Dazai Osamu || Branding [blooming of an alyssum] Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya || Attempted Rape [all my agony fades away when you hold me in your embrace] ?? & ?? || Locked in a Freezer ?? & ?? || Can't Go Home ?? & ?? || Being Watched ?? & ?? || Villainous Rescue ?? & ?? || "I'm Fine" ?? & ?? || Lost Their Voice From Screaming ?? & ?? || Shackled Feet ?? & ?? || First-Aid Kit ?? & ?? || This is for Your Own Good ?? & ?? || Sensory Deprivation ?? & ?? || Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

(I am taking requests for this bingo, while also writing things that I want to write- feel free to leave in requests along with fandom and the character that you would like to see go through the prompt!)

I will be updating this as time goes by and will be adding in the fics that i write when they are posted online. If I am working on it I will only be putting in the other information!

#aftg #all for the game #the foxes #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #aftg fic #bungou stray dogs #bsd #armed detective agency #port mafia #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #atsushi nakajima #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bsd fanfic #aftg fanfic #bsd fic #osamu dazai #bungo stray dogs #alternate universe #fanfic #bad things happen bingo #bad things bingo #bad things happen bingo masterlist #f0xy's BTHB #bthb card #bthb

[emcscared-whumps]

WiJ 2023 - 01: Introduce Yourself

WiJ 2023 Navigation Post

(I'll put my favourite tropes under the cut because this post is getting a bit long, oops lol)

Re-Introduction

I've been in the Tumblr whump community for a couple of years now, but hello and welcome to everyone both old and new to my blog! I'm emc, and I'm an Australian writer and artist specialising in the bloodthirsty subject matter we all love here on whumpblr! I mostly reblog at this stage, but I love to participate in community events, and have plenty in the works :)

I create original whump works. I'm only in one fandom, Danny Phantom, so I will occasionally reblog stuff from there.

Project Updates!

I'm completely, totally obsessed by one singular whumpee... so everything I work on centers around him... lol

Anyways, so, it turns out that SP multiplied...

Shifting Phases - This is gonna be a loooooong fic lol, but! I'm making good progress, and I've managed to stay inspired and motivated for +6 years, so you can count on it getting finished, no matter how long it takes :)

10 of 59 chapters are drafted, one of which is pending review,

8 of the remaining 50 chapters are in progress,

The word-count as of writing this post is 23.5k.

I'm sure a few of you have followed for this fic/pieces of the boi, and I think about that constantly especially since it's still a major wip lol ^-^' Not worry, I will not rush uwu

I'll link the masterpost of it though because I keep it updated with my progress, and also any good snippets I write :)

Full Moon Waning - Because I'm horrible and have so many thoughts all the time, I've actually started planning this; the sequel to Shifting Phases! I think I have some cool whump ideas, and it provides another chance to explore the worldbuilding and character backstories, so I think it has a lot to offer and will be fun to write :)

Plotting; jotting down vague ideas and arranging them in a semi-coherent order.

Eclipse Descending (AU) - Oh this one is incredibly fun and fucked up, and somehow manages to be SO much darker in which Pete falls down a terrible path and becomes a hunter. It goes about as well as you'd expect lol. I explained the premise to a friend and she wondered, since it was so compelling, why it wasn't canon, and man, that's a fun thing to hear. It also means it's gonna be an absolute behemoth...

Plotting and detailing scenes simultaneously.

Caesar Salad (AU) - Remember how I said I wanted to stab my whumpee during the Ides of March? Guess which concept got WAY out of hand XD It will be a much shorter fic, but it's still a major project. It's an alternate secret reveal, so, it's an AU.

Detailing the scenes while trying desperately to come up with a resolution ^-^'

Anything Else? - Yep! I have a few other little scene/whump ideas that I'll eventually write out, but for now, I just keep them stored in a little au/idea doc. I'm still also working slowly on my BTHB card, and also the gift and several treats for the exchange I mentioned earlier, but I shan't be spoiling those :)

Favourite Tropes

Those of you who've been around me/know me will find that I am indeed very consistent XD Some of my favourite tropes include:

Bad caretaker/s

Collapse

Compromised mobility

Dehumanisation and animalisation

Domestic abuse

Emotional whump

Environmental whump

Hyper/hypothermia

Long-term injuries and scars

Near-death of the whumpee

Nightmares/Night terrors

Nonhuman whumpees (usually vampires, demons... and especially mer)

Panic attacks

PTSD

Restraints, especially creative ones

Secret angst-- whumpee having to keep their species/identity secret for their personal safety, and because they fear they'll be rejected by the ones they love most

Severe sickness

Species-specific whump

Starvation

Transformation whump

... and so many more...! Also, caretakers and whumpers are not necessary for me to enjoy the whump ^-^

#wij23day1 #whumpmasinjuly2023 #whumpmas in july #wij #whumpblr #whump community #whump intro #whump reintro #whump writer #whump artist #omfg how do i count #i can't fucking count i either made an error on chapter count here or on the masterpost shit shit shit lmao #i can count it's just whether i count them the same way lol

[ao3feed-peterstiles]

At Our Ex-Spence

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47766130

by sapphireginger

Stiles is ready to leave Beacon Hell Hole-Beacon Hills-behind. An offer to join the FBI is his ticket out of there. A blue eyed wolf follows along, and Stiles doesn't mind a bit.

On the other side of the US an amber eyed man puts on his glasses and gets out of bed. His first day at the FBI is almost here. "Stu?" the man's girlfriend calls out. "Coming!" he replies and rejoins her in their bedroom.

Stiles is about to start his FBI training. He meets two people of major significance on his first day. Life gets even more complicated, and he has so many questions. However, he's not sure who he trusts to give him the correct answers-to give him the truth.

Words: 1864, Chapters: 1/31, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV), Criminal Minds (US TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Stuart Stilinski, Allison Argent, Spencer Reid, Klarysa Gajos (OC), Genevieve Reid (OC), Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, Chris Argent, Noah Stilinski, Klaudiya Gajos (Mentioned), Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Penelope Garcia, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, David Rossi, Original Child Character(s), (To Be Added Later), Jasmine (OC) (Mentioned), Nogitsune (Teen Wolf), Original Characters

Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Stuart Stilinski, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Twin Stiles Stilinski, Twin Stuart Stilinski, Stuart Stilinski's Last Name is Gajos, Spencer Reid is Stuart Stilinski's Cousin, Protective Spencer Reid, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, FBI Agent Stuart Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Good Parent Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Separated at Birth, Twins, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Familiars, Past Character Death, Claudia Stilinski's Name is Klaudiya Gajos, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieszko, Stuart Stilinski's Name is Mikolaj, Spencer Reid's Name is Maksymilian, Good Peter Hale, Mates Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Claiming Bites, Explicit Sexual Content, De-Aged Peter Hale, Future Mpreg, Stiles Stilinski is a Polyglot, Protective Peter Hale, Stilinski Family Feels (Teen Wolf), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, AFG Angst: Begging, AFG Angst: "Do you wonder what it is that makes me scream?", AFG Fluff: Nicknames/Pet Names, BTHB: "Who did this to you?", Bad Things Happen Bingo, bad things happen, Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Isaac Lahey & Jackson Whittemore Get Bitten, Panic Attacks, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Aged-Up Stiles Stilinski, Aged-Up Character(s)

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47766130

#ao3feed #teen wolf #steter #fanfic #peterstiles

[ao3feed-tedlasso]

Punished

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)

Jamie's father sees his son on TV after a bad weeks and decided that the boy needs to be punished.

The boy won't stand a chance.

Ye olde Jamie's dad beats him up, the coaches help whump fic, for the bthb prompt "corporal punishment"

Words: 2001, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Ted Lasso (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Jamie Tartt, James Tartt Sr., Ted Lasso, Coach Beard (Ted Lasso)

Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Hurt Jamie Tartt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Domestic Violence, Ted and Beard as rescuers, but yeah mostly hurt Jamie, I did do a bit on his dad's POV which I think is a bit original, but then is just regular ol whump, Beating

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/46749592

#Ted Lasso #Ted Lasso Fic #ao3feed

[blackrosesandwhump]

The Marvelous Resurrecting Boy, Part 11

Part 10

BTHB: Manhandling

Fandom: Original work

Synopsis:  Still recovering from his previous performance, Bram fails to discover more about his disturbing memories and gets attacked by someone he trusted.

CW: suicide for convenience, drugging reference, immortality whump, circus whump, nightmares

Bram stood at the opening of the medical tent, taking deep breaths of cool air and watching Griffin examine the newest performers.

Two days. He’d been unconscious for two days after his most recent death, the performance of the dying swan. In all the months—years? Time was elusive when you were immortal—that he’d been part of Griffin’s circus, he hadn’t once been sick. And now, standing still and making himself breathe, he felt weak, almost dizzy. The opposite of the way someone immortal should feel.

His nightmares weighed heavily on him. He thought back to his most recent dream. A shipwreck. People had been dying around him. But why? What had happened to the ship? And what did it have to do with him?

Violet. I have to see Violet again. Whatever it takes. He repeated her name in his head as he gathered his coat and scarf from his borrowed cot and slipped out. The muddy ground squelched a little under his boots; he tried to walk more quietly as he made his way past the tent with the Griffin’s recent acquisitions.

His gaze snagged on one of them, and he froze in his tracks, his breath held.

A pair of large, iridescent wings extended from the stranger’s back and caught the light, shimmering despite the dim grey sky overhead. Bram couldn’t tear his eyes away. He watched, transfixed, hardly breathing, until two stagehands shoved the boy to his knees. The boy dropped heavily, barely resisting. He’s already drugged. They already drugged him. He ducked down as the stagehands manhandled the boy out of the tent, his wings fluttering useless on his back. The stranger’ s eyes met his for just a second. Help me, they said. Please help me.

Bram swayed on his feet and turned, suddenly exhausted, back to his own tent. Thank goodness he didn’t have any performances today.

He yanked off his boots and lay down on his own cot. Sleep swallowed almost instantly, the image of the incredible wings swimming in his mind.

Violet. He jolted awake with her name on his lips. She had been there, clinging to him in that dreadful, icy sea.

He was on his feet before he knew what he was doing, pulling on his boots with hands that seemed to be guiding themselves. He had to see her again, had to learn what had happened on that horrific night.

He headed for the main stage.

It was dark and empty at this time of night. He ascended the wooden steps and, hands outstretched like a blind man’s, felt his way to the prop tables backstage. His fingers landed on a candelabra; he fumbled around next to it for matches and struck one. The candelabra flared into life one wick at a time, illuminating the abandoned stage with warm, flickering light. There, at the end of the table. A vial of poison. Why Griffin didn’t keep it locked up, Bram never knew. The liquid inside caught the candlelight, shimmering darkly. It would only take a few drops.

His tongue recoiled at its bitterness, and he shuddered and sank to his knees. Any moment now. Any moment now, he would die, and he would see her again, drawing close to him as catastrophe struck—

He opened his eyes. Nothing. Nothing had happened. He was still alive, still conscious, his mind full of distant, dream-like memories that faded even as he got to his feet, his heart pounding.

So he really was immune to that particular poison—

A low growl close by sent an icy chill down his spine.

“Hello? Is someone there?” He glanced around the dark stage, panicked. His heart skipped a beat.

Someone was standing there in the blackness, watching him with eyes that…eyes that glowed…

“Hello?” He took a step backward, and the figure advanced toward him, the candlelight grazing familiar features. Bram let his breath out in a deep sigh of relief.

“Kian! You scared me! Why’re you standing there—” The words died in his mouth.

It was Kian, but somehow, in some terrifying way, not him. His eyes looked less human, full of a yellow glow Bram hadn’t seen before. He stood slightly hunched over, his head lowered, his horns sharp, his teeth bared. He dropped into a crouch, as if ready to lunge and strike. Another low growl rumbled deep in his chest.

Then he threw himself at Bram.

@forthetaintedsorrow-whump @whumping-out-of-time @whumping-to-conclusions @whumpy-writings @afabulousmrtake @whither-wander-whump @whumpinthepot @silver-ink-iron-words @badthingshappenbingo

#whump #whump writing #bthb #manhandling #bthb card #immortal whumpee #immortality whump #bad things happen bingo #original work #suicide for convenience #circus whump #original character #blackroseswrites #whump story #forced drugging #nightmares #memories #inhuman whumpee #flashbacks #oc whump #death wish #wings #drugging reference #poison #recovery whump

[obsessedwithegos]

BTHB: Knocked Out with Tael

CWs: Demon whumpee, Devil whumper, Defiant whumpee, Intimate/creepy whumper (implied), Mild mouth whump (tongue biting), Impalement, Horn whump, Gore (related to the horn whump)

Notes: Canon! This is before Tael escaped the hells! This fic also inspired this prompt This one is also short, so it does not continue below the cut!

Tael: He/it Barbwire ‘Barb’: She/they

~~~~~~~

The taste of iron floods Tael’s mouth as he grits his teeth into his tongue to try to prevent the scream that was bubbling up in his throat from escaping.

“You know Tael.. You’re really pushing my patience.” The devil above him says, pushing her pitchfork further into his abdomen. A smile creeped onto her face as a choked sound escapes the demon.

“I don’t think I’m asking too much, just for a simple ‘please’. You can get that out, can’t you?” She starts to twist the pitchfork.

He managed to get out a growl, not wanting to give them the pleasure of any words. 

Barbwire’s smile quickly shifts into a frown as she steps on his lower stomach to yank the weapon out swiftly. She slams the end of it onto the ground and leans down to grab one of his horns. “You really don’t want to lose my good graces, doll.”

She allows it to use one of its arms to try to cover its wounds, and watching it struggle to try not to show any pain on its face was satisfying.

Her grip on its horn starts to tighten. “I think you forget. I’m the one that heals you. I’m the one that determines if parts of you grow back or not. I’m the one keeping you alive. You’re only whole because I allow you to be.” She snarled as its horn started to audibly crack. “I think it’s time to change that.”

Everything happened so quickly, his horn crumbles under their grip and the sharp shards of it are quickly pushed into the nerves and blood supply it was protecting. 

He had no chance of trying to stop his scream as the pain shot down into his skull and all across his head, causing his vision to momentarily go dark and then blur upon its return.

“That’s not a please.” They hissed, pulling on the exposed nerves. 

“FUCK!” He screamed as he felt his body starting to go limp and shut down from the pain.

Barb lets go of the nerves with gritted teeth, letting Tael’s head drop to the ground. “Worthless. Just as you were in life you are in death. A complete, utterly worthless, disappointment.” She grumbled, taking her hoof off of his stomach to walk closer to his head.

She looks down to make eye contact with him. “Sleep tight.” Was all she said before reeling her leg back and kicking him in the head, knocking him out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

general: @emmettnet @thebluejayswhump

Tael tag: @whumpsday

BTHB: @badthingshappenbingo

#I wanted to do something quick with Barb and whumpee Tael so here we are <3 #bad things happen bingo #whump #whump tag #tael tag #tael writing tag #barbwire tag #barbwire writing tag #demon whump #horn whump #ask to tag #intimate whumper is more so implied in this fic but she is an intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #BTHB: Original work / Original Characters

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

The Video

The Video by Krisington

It started the way most viral things start: by accident.

Words: 1843, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of BTHB, Fluff Edition

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Original Characters

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Additional Tags: Retired Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Yagi Toshinori | All Might-centric, Insecure Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Cute Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Insecure Midoriya Izuku, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Attempt at Humor, Some Humor, Social Media, TikTok, Bad Things Happen Bingo, FLUFF edition, Food as a Metaphor for Love

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40297806

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Izuku #♦ #Izuku Midoriya #Yagi Toshinori #R:G #A:Krisington #Dad Might #Online AU #Fluff

[aetherith]

Here is your card for Bad Things Happen Bingo. Happy writing!

Behold! I'm doing a BTHB card after I... never finished my first one. Please read the rules and info before submitting a request!

RULES/INFO:

I am prone to unexpected and infrequent hyperfixation changes. When this happens, it becomes extremely hard for me to find motivation to write for my previous hyperfixation; all I want to write about is my new one. If this were to happen, any prompt submissions for my previous hyperfixation will go void. I will reblog this post with edits made to announce this change. I’m really sorry if you sent in a submission and this happens, I can’t really control it as much as I wish I could. With that said, my current hyperfixation is The Owl House and my favorite character in it, Hunter (but you already know this if you’ve been here for a while). Until I experience another hyperfixation change, I will only be accepting submissions for TOH. Additionally, while I am totally fine writing about and including any and all TOH characters in my work, I would highly prefer if Hunter was involved in some way. This will allow me to be more motivated to finish the prompt and enjoy writing it more!

I will be accepting submissions for prompts! You can be as simple or detailed as you would like, ranging from “[Insert Prompt] with [Insert Characters]” to describing every plot beat and character interaction that takes place. I don’t mind whichever you choose (though a little bit of detail is useful). You can submit via an ask or over discord. Before submitting, please look over the submission guidelines below. I will not be accepting prompts that don’t follow my rules. PS: I’m already claiming the Nightmares prompt I have an idea for that.

What I will write: This is far from an extensive list (I’d recommend relying more on the ‘might write’ and ‘won’t write’ sections to determine what’s okay for a submission, since I will write just about anything else. For starters, I will happily write AUs, from canon divergence to everyone’s a criminal or something. I will also write for the following ships: Lumity, Huntric, and Huntlow. Keep in mind that I’m pretty terrible at writing romance, and far prefer writing platonic relationships. Speaking of, I will write for just about any platonic relationship/friendship available, even if that relationship doesn’t really exist in the canon of the show.

What I MIGHT write: This section is primarily reserved for subjects such as gore, torture, horror, and other subjects that are fairly dark and/or unsettling. Don’t be afraid of requesting prompts involving these subjects, but expect that they will be fairly mild in my writing, if not skipped over entirely. This is because I enjoy writing the rescue and recovery from these topics more than the topic itself. Additionally, if I you submit a prompt that includes something in this category that’s a bit too uncomfortable for me, know that I might alter the concept slightly to suit my tastes. If I do have to alter a prompt, I would try my best to keep it as close to the original submission as possible.

What I won’t write: Topics in this category will never be written, nor will submissions be received. In some cases, submissions with these topics might even get you blocked. I will not write NSFW (I am a minor writing about minors. What do you think). I will not write anything involving proshipping. I will not write anything dark enough to earn a fic the Explicit rating on Ao3 (so, like, REALLY dark. It would have to be extremely dark to earn this rating, since I’m comfortable writing some pretty dark stuff. There’s a limit, though). I will not write about the intentional disabling of characters. I will not write anything that isn’t on this list that I find problematic or too uncomfortable for my tastes. I have the full right to reject any prompt, though if it isn’t on this list, I will explain why.

I know that last section makes it sound scary but DONT BE AFRAID TO REQUEST THINGS! I promise I don’t bite and as long as you’re not requesting anything gross you’re chill! I’m super excited to hear your requests and to write them! Also, don’t be afraid to ask any questions! If you have a prompt you’re worried I will reject, don’t be afraid to send it in and just express that you aren’t sure it’s okay. If you do this and it isn’t a prompt I’m comfortable with, I will respond to you privately. Then, feel free to request something different. Have fun coming up with requests!

#bad things happen bingo #the owl house #writing #fanfiction

[thechaoscryptid]

BTHB, 2023 Edition

What up readers, it’s me, ya demon. On my 2023 agenda is getting a blackout on this bad boy and I would like your help deciding whomst to torture 🥰

Below the cut, you will find a sampling of the fandoms, ships, and individuals I’d love to write about. This list is not exhaustive - please feel free to request something that feels like it might be in line with my wants. If a ship is listed, assume I am comfortable writing for both characters separately as well.

- If multiple folks request the same prompt, I will choose ONE to write 

- If you want to send me a song/dialogue line/specific au prompt in addition to the BTHB prompt to help 🌟set the mood🌟, feel free

- Prompts may NOT be combined in one fic, but you can send me a selection of prompts and let me pick one (ie. “Dazai and touch starved, snowed in, or hope is scary”)

- Feel free to use the GRAB BAG option and request a prompt without a fandom/character/ship attached! You might get OC work, you might get an unfamiliar fandom, you might get an old favorite

If you have any questions or would like to confirm if I might be into something, my asks and messages are open!

The Non-Exhaustive List, in No Particular Order

BNHA: EraserMic, ShinZawa, ShinBaku, ShigaDabi, DabiHawks, TogaTwice

BSD: Odazai, DaRan, Dazushi

JJK: SukuFushi, NanaGo, OkkoIta

NARUTO: KakaIru (most Kakashi ships except KakaGai honestly), MultiSaku (no Lee, no Gai pls), GenIno, HakuZabu, “pick one of your ten thousand rarepairs Alex”

FE:3H: Sylvix, Byhardt (m!Byleth), Felileth (m!Byleth), Dimitri, Claurenz

MXTX: WangXian, HuaLian, maaaaaybe BeefLeaf

VOLTRON: Sheith, Katt, Pidge, Reiner

PROMARE: GueiMei, GaloLio

SK8: MatchaBlossom, TadaAi, ShadOka, Renga

Original Characters: Felix Grey, Moira Ewing, Kestra and Krynn Freyn, Cyra and Kanden Erus, Kees Harker, Ifri Vell, Dhara Michaelis, “make up some new characters Alex”

#bthb #prompts open #ask box open #bnha #bsd #jjk #naruto #fe3h #mxtx #voltron #promare #sk8 #original work

[futuristicnightmarepeach]

The Video

Krisington

Summary:

It started the way most viral things start: by accident.

Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

Gen

Fandom:

僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Relationship:

Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters:

Midoriya Izuku Yagi Toshinori | All Might Original Characters

Additional Tags:

Retired Yagi Toshinori | All Might Yagi Toshinori | All Might-centric Insecure Yagi Toshinori | All Might Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might Cute Midoriya Izuku Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine Insecure Midoriya Izuku Fluff Fluff and Humor Fluff and Crack Crack Crack Treated Seriously Attempt at Humor Some Humor Social Media TikTok Bad Things Happen Bingo FLUFF edition Food as a Metaphor for Love

Language:

English

Series:

← Previous Work Part 5 of BTHB, Fluff Edition

Stats:

Published: 2022-07-14 Words: 1843 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 20 Kudos: 243 Bookmarks: 31 Hits: 1339

#ao3 feed #ao3 recs #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #all might #Yagi Toshinori #Yagi Toshinori-Centric #mha fluff