Tumgik
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 7 hours
Text
Handfuls of Laurel
Sigh Not So | Secrets Hid Away | Shed Tears Aplenty | Fire Down Below | Rolling Down | Won’t You Go My Way? | The Seas No More | The Nightingale’s Song | Bones in the Ocean | For She Was Afraid | Time for Us to Leave Her | To Unchain Me | A Good Time Coming | I Long to Hear You | The Low Road | Handfuls of Laurel |
For @whumptober no. 31, emptiness
CW: Implied noncon, creepy whumper, nonhuman whumpee, captivity
-
The sun shone warm through the foggy glass windows of Areyto’s beautiful prison, but with his captor’s hand between his shoulder blades, heavy as stone, he couldn’t look up to see it.
Instead, he felt the cool, solid tile against his forehead and the palms of his hands where they were pressed flat by his shoulders, elbows bent. His knees were pushing into the tile hard enough that he knew he’d have bruises later, but bruised knees were more or less a constant in his life, and he barely noticed them by now.
Instead of thinking about his captor’s damp touch and the way he whispered vile praise, Areyto thought about the sweet-green smell of the ferns, flowers, and fruit trees around him, and the way the water in his pool lapped gently against the sides, just a few inches from his fingers.
An ache throbbed within him and he thought distantly of the rotten fruit that fell from the little trees kept in pots in here, how he was also marked and smudged with the browns, yellows, and purples - but no one ever came to whisk him into a basket and toss him out to feed the pigs.
Would that feel like freedom, being tossed in the trough?
Would it feel like anything at all?
The magic that trapped him so completely within his own skin was fading, becoming less powerful day by day as no one reinforced it, but it wasn’t weak enough yet for him to disobey his captor’s demands and direct orders.
Soon, but… not yet.
Not ever, now that the new magician was here.
He’d gotten lucky with what happened to the last one.
He shifted, just barely, moving his painted-over hand to one side, inch by inch, in time with his captor’s hip. He shivered with repulsion when he felt sweat drop from his captor’s forehead onto his back. When his fingertips just barely touched the saltwater that his captor was merciful enough to allow him, he exhaled. A gift, his captor said, that could be revoked any time he wished.
So Areyto stayed still, and told himself to be grateful that his captor had been too hurried this morning to care if his prisoner enjoyed his attentions or not, that Areyto was at least allowed to feel nothing this time.
He was allowed to feel disgusted, and for once not with himself.
There was a groan, pressure beyond any other inside him, and then his captor raked fingernails over his ribs on either side, pulling little more than a distant hiss from between the siren’s gritted teeth. Then he was gone, and where Areyto had been too full, he now felt horribly empty, scraped out and with nothing left of him.
His captor ran a slow hand down from his neck to the small of his back, humming happily at the sight, and then stood and tied the sash of his robe. He was humming a little tune to himself, jaunty and carefree.
“Playing dead fish today, are we?” He asked, good humored and satisfied.
Areyto would have torn him limb from limb if he could, but even his fury was subdued, now, banked embers instead of blazing fire. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the water at the ends of his fingers, until he heard the rustling as his captor walked away.
“Well,” His captor continued, voice getting quieter as he moved away, “It hardly matters. You will clean yourself and then dress in the clothes I left by the door. Wait for my return.”
Areyto didn’t even bother to look up. He just turned his head to the side and lowered his hips. The tile felt so good. Very little did, any longer. His eyes traveled idly and he watched his captor run fingers down the scratches he’d carved into the inside of the doors, the way the man’s mouth twisted with irritation.
Some nights, as long as his captor was asleep, he found himself able to try - briefly - to escape. Some nights the magic that wrapped him so tightly loosened enough to allow him the first halting steps towards a freedom that he could barely remember ever having had.
Then the net would snap tight again.
“Yes, master,” Areyto murmured. He blinked, slowly. His mind felt like it was mired in mud. “Why?”
“You have no need to know why I give you commands,” His captor snapped. “You only need to obey them. You have half an hour. Then Babbage will come in here and fix your ridiculous hair, you will make him forget you as soon as he is done, and you will come to breakfast with myself and the new magician.” He left before Areyto was forced to whisper his obedience, which was a sort of relief.
If he only had a little more time alone...
But the new magician was here, and Areyto had ruined any chance of bringing her over to his side, getting her to free him.
He’d gotten too scared and too desperate and felt some semblance of hope. He'd been impulsive. He’d tried to sing her into helping him, but the spell had been broken before it had fully wrapped around her, and now... He’d lost what had felt like his last chance. She was someone new who he hadn’t been commanded yet to turn into another enemy, someone who had - however briefly - looked at him like a person and not a thing to be used.
She had touched him so gently, and he could still feel her fingertips along his jaw.
He had made a terrible mistake.
The last magician had been a cruel man who hadn’t sedated him. He’d taken the chance when the pain from the magic had risen to a higher crescendo than what came from disobeying commands. Even that had been a mistake, he'd been half-conscious and mad with the agony the spell wrought as it resettled. The magician had been torn limb from limb before he knew what he had done. This mistake was worse, because he should have known better. Now she’d think of him what all humans thought of him, some sort of evil mindless animal, and she would do as his captor asked. With her would vanish his small slim hope that something - anything - might get better, that he even might dream one day to be free, to go home.
When she had told him not to sing to her, he hadn’t listened.
Stop trying to force me, and I will help you.
She couldn’t have meant it, he had been sure it had been a trick, nothing more. He’d kept pushing, knowing that he couldn’t trust a human to mean a word they said, but… if she had been honest… well he’d ruined that, hadn’t he?
One hundred and fifty years, and he couldn't wait a few days more to grasp at what help he might have found.
And this morning, his voice once again refused to craft a single note without permission. His captor had whispered silence into his very bones while he took him. He felt the slime of his captor’s touch, too. At least he could fix that problem-
Areyto simply rolled into the water.
Saltwater stung along his ribs and in the torn places, but he ignored it, drifting down until he hit the bottom, laying there on his back and seeing nothing above him but a foggy hint of light broken by water.
He felt like a canyon deep beneath the ocean, a place so dark not even the anglerfish lights could show, inhabited only by the absence of life. He had died a long time ago, but his body had never been allowed to follow his mind.
He would have to dress, in a moment, and wear the hated human clothes that itched and felt strange on skin meant to stay bare. He would have to sit while the idiot butler cut off all his hair, and say yes, master over and over again, stare down at the plate while his captor ate and drank and was merry and bright.
He would have to hope his performance of empty humanity was enough to earn him a few fish tossed into the water once his captor was done.
He would have to do all of that, over and over again, in a monotonous emptiness that would never end until he was finally allowed to die.
But not yet.
For now, he could stay here in the water, and who could tell the difference between saltwater and tears?
-
Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee
45 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
9K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Text
kinda sick of all those posts that are like "my ancestors were surviving starvation and the plague meanwhile i get nervous ordering food at restaurants". as if jauffrey the woodworker didn't fumble his conversation with the fine maiden running the fruit stand and then tripped on a pebble as he left in a hurry
36K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Text
Still have no energy for any genuine writing, but I'm just like turning and twisting this lil bit about sedation vs. paralysis in my head like I would a very shiny interesting rock
Horror on the part of Kira, sadistic delight for Guilford, and the resignation of the siren who has felt this particular pain again and again and will continue to feel it every decade until he either escapes or is allowed to die...
A single piece of dialogue has popped into my mind, but I am sick and sleepy and don't want to forget it before I have the mental power and energy to make something of it.
"You speak of forcing him to drink a paralytic. That is not the same as sedation."
"Yes."
"He will feel everything... he will feel the pain-"
"He will. And I will watch."
73 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Note
which real life media characters would your characters identify the most with?
Kauri can't have Astarion in his party in BG3 because it feels too close to home and he gets really uncomfortable.
That is all I got for now.
5 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Note
I need you to know that my math professor is a Russian man who speaks with a stutter. fusion antoni + nate
Nantoni!
Antonate?
3 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
328K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 2 days
Note
If your characters were in mean girls who would be who?
I... I don't know. Kauri thinks he would be Regina George but he absolutely would not be. I guess Chris would be Katy/Cadie? I have no idea.
Antoni is just that kid on the bleachers you see for five seconds who never says anything.
6 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 3 days
Text
A single piece of dialogue has popped into my mind, but I am sick and sleepy and don't want to forget it before I have the mental power and energy to make something of it.
"You speak of forcing him to drink a paralytic. That is not the same as sedation."
"Yes."
"He will feel everything... he will feel the pain-"
"He will. And I will watch."
73 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
69K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 3 days
Note
“I’m Not a Good Person” by Pat The Bunny reminds me of Kauri (or rather, what Kauri thinks of himself).
Ooooh
5 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 4 days
Text
Tumblr media
radiant
(available as a phone wallpaper on my patreon)
prints
4K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 4 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ladies of Baldur's Gate
prints(black friday sale rn) | patreon
5K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 4 days
Text
Honestly, with all the tradwife cooking trash circulating, it only makes me love B Dylan Hollis more for baking vintage recipes while being openly gay, making sexual jokes, and screaming at the ingredients. He's the antithesis of every soft-spoken cishet woman cooking for her husband and children. You don't have to be an idyllic cottagecore housewife to cook.
16K notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 4 days
Note
If it’s not too much to ask, could we possibly get a follow up piece to the recent drabble with Vince and Jameson?
I am hoping to get one written this upcoming week! Maybe two, actually, Kauri and Vince and then a more directly focused on Jameson piece.
13 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 4 days
Text
Fruit of the Wicked: Chapter 1
CW: lady whump, male whumper/female whumpee, poc whump (whumpee is a Black woman), age gap whump (whumper is an older man), religious whump, implied drugging, use of restraints
A huge shoutout to Marz, Gen, and Beck for beta reading this first chapter
Word Count: 2,229 || Next
When Dani woke up, she knew something was wrong.
It didn’t occur to her while she still floated in a black haze from last night. It didn’t even occur to her as the bright, offensive sunlight struck her face, pulling her from sleep. All of those things could be explained away as ordinary occurrences, the result of a long night’s rest. However, what could not be explained was the hardwood floor that rested against Dani’s cheek.
Her apartment didn’t have hardwood floors.
She awoke slowly, despite her panic. She still felt submerged in a sea of tar, and she knew that something was wrong about that, too. She was sure she hadn’t had anything to drink last night, and she hadn’t worked a long enough shift to be this tired. She couldn’t remember going to bed last night. She couldn’t even remember stepping foot in her apartment. Even if she had, she clearly wasn’t there now. When her eyes finally peeled open, she begun to see a room she didn’t recognize, and the shape of someone seated in a worn leather arm chair across from her.
She wasn’t in her apartment, and she wasn’t alone.
She tried to move, despite how heavy her limbs felt, and felt resistance as her legs attempted to kick out. She looked down at them and saw a metal cuff clamped around one of her ankles, its chain snaking down and looped to a matching, rusted ring in the floor. She stared at it, the pieces slowly coming together in her muddied mind. She was chained to the floor in a room she didn’t recognize with a person she didn’t know sitting across from her. It felt so surreal. She gave her ankle a little shake, just to be sure.
“Well, look who’s finally awake.” A voice rang through the air.
Dani knew that voice.
She remembered when she’d first heard it at the diner, its southern drawl different from the way her regulars usually spoke. He was from out-of-town, there for one reason or another, whatever reasons brought a man like him to a small town like theirs. Maybe that knowledge, the thought that she’d never have to see him again, made her particularly brave that day. To do what she had done to him.
Look how much good it’d done her now.
As she squinted her eyes to make him out through the shroud of sunlight surrounding him, she could tell that not much about him had changed. He still had that sandy blond hair, perhaps streaked with more gray than the last time they’d spoken. His square jawline was now covered in stubble. The harsh sunlight deepened the lines on his face, especially as it shifted into a grin.
The man stood, faintly groaning as his knees snapped into place, and made his way over to her, then bending into a crouch. He was so much closer to her now. Dani wanted to crawl away, far from the appraising gaze of his piercing blue eyes, but her limbs simply would not cooperate.
“It’s been a while since we’ve last spoken, hasn’t it?”
Whatever strength Dani still had went into kicking her leg out towards him. The chain pulled and stopped her short. He sighed as her foot lightly made contact with his work boots. “We’ll work on that.”
She could make out so much more of him now that he was closer. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes made their way up and down her body. She wanted to kick him again. As if reading her thoughts, the man leaned back, out of her reach. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he chided. “I don’t think you’ll like what happens if you do.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Dani croaked, her tongue heavy.
He gave her a small smile. “Do you remember me, darlin’? What happened the last time we spoke?”
Of course she did. She almost lost her damn job over it. “I’ve got some sort of notion,” she growled, attempting to push herself away from him. It was a clumsy ordeal, but she managed.
He laughed. “I’m sure you do. I can’t imagine that went over well with your boss. Tell me, how close was he to firing you after what you’d done?”
She steeled her jaw.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, darlin’. Let’s be civil about this. I just want to have a conversation with you.”
“Maybe I’ll consider it,” Dani said, attempting to ignore the way her head swam as she pulled herself into a sitting position. “Once I’m not chained to the floor.”
The man shook his head. “No, not yet. You haven’t earned it.”
Earned it? “Then I’m not interested in speaking to you.”
He sighed again, fiddling with the pocket of his jeans. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll realize that talking to me is a lot better alternative to what else I could be doing to you right now.”
“Like what?”
He chuckled. “Would you really like to find that out?”
No, she didn’t. But she wasn’t going to be the one to admit it.
The man pulled a wrapped up piece of thick leather from his pocket. “Do you know what this is, darlin’?” He asked, wrapping the leather around his hand. “It’s a whip switch. Now, I’m not opposed to using it on you if that’s what you really want, but I’m sure you’d prefer talking to me instead. Wouldn’t you?”
All Dani could do was nod.
“What do you mean about having to earn it?” She asked, voice wavering.
The man hummed, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I have plans for us, darlin’. Plans you aren’t gonna like. But that’s okay. You don’t gotta like them. You just have to go along with them, save yourself some trouble that way.”
“Like what?” She spat out, frustrated.
He stood up, groaning as he straightened his legs. “Now, it wouldn’t be any fun if I told you from the jump, would it?” He began to pace the room, a study of some kind. Dani could feel the wall to wall bookshelves pressed against her back. Could see the leather arm chair in the opposite corner of the room, with the side table and lamp next to it. It would’ve been charming, had Dani not been chained to the floor. “I’d say we’ll start off slow, but that wouldn’t quite be true. I like to get the dirty work out of the way first, makes it easier down the line.”
“You say that like you’ve done this before.”
He looked at her, amused. “What makes you think I haven’t?” He gestured down to the metal ring. “That’s not new, you know. It’s seen plenty of girls before it’s seen you.”
Dani’s stomach curled in on itself.
“I think we should establish some ground rules first. How does that sound?”
“Fuck you.”
The man cleared his throat. “So, rule one: you’re gonna do what I say, when I say it. No, don’t look at me like that—you’re gonna want to follow this rule. Because if you follow it, you’re gonna save us both a lot of time and energy avoiding some of the punishments that’ll happen if you don’t. Do you understand me?”
Dani bristled. “Like hell I will.”
“It’s non-negotiable. Break a rule, I break something of yours. It’s simple, really. Rule one won’t be as hard as you think it will. At least, not after a while, it won’t. You’ll catch on fast.” He fixed her with another look. “Rule two will be harder for you. You’re gonna have to watch your mouth.”
“This is bullshit,” Dani muttered to herself.
“Ah, ah. We’ve barely even gone 0ver the rules and you’re already starting to break them. Would you really prefer to have this conversation end in a punishment?” Dani shook her head. “Then watch your mouth.”
Dani looked around the room for something, anything, that she could reach. She had the books behind her, but they wouldn’t do much, not against him. You couldn’t pick a lock with a book, either. And she wouldn’t be getting very far with that damn cuff on her ankle.
“Rule three: you won’t, under any circumstance, leave this cabin without a chaperone. That will most likely be me. There are gonna be some pretty damning consequences if you do, and, quite frankly, I don’t feel like chasing you down to see where you’ve ended up.”
“How the hell am I gonna leave the cabin if I’m chained to the floor, genius?” Dani asked, chain rattling as she shook her ankle.
The man sighed. “You really are a bad listener, aren’t you? You’ll lose the chain when you’ve earned it. Which means following the rules. Which you are currently doing a piss poor job at.” He got closer to her. Dani tried to push herself into the shelf behind her, but there was nowhere left to go. “Do you know why I’m doing this? Why I’ve gone to all the trouble of doing this instead of just killing you?”
“I’m gonna guess it’s because you get off on it.”
She hoped she sounded braver than she felt.
He just shook his head. “It’s because I think you and I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to. And killing you just ain’t gonna cut it.”
Dani straightened up. “And what happens if I keep breaking the rules?” She asked. “Will you get sick of me and get it over with?”
“No,” He said slowly. “But you’re gonna wish I had.”
“Oh my God,” Dani groaned. “You’re insane.”
His eyebrows rose. “Is that right.” Dani could tell his patience for her antics was dwindling. His finger tapped against his crossed arms impatiently. “Well, I think I’ve had enough of this for the day. We’ll get started on our lessons together tomorrow.”
“Lessons?”
He ignored her and started for the glass paned double doors on the other side of her.
A thought came to Dani. “Wait,” she called out. The man turned back to her, eyebrows raised. “Do you think you’ll do it?”
He sighed, exasperated. “Do what, darlin’.”
“Whatever it is you plan on doing with me. Do you think you’ll do it?”
The man gave her a small smile. “I sure hope so.”
As he went to leave again, Dani piped up, saying, “I really need to use the rest room.”
The man stopped.
“Can I—” Dani sighed, frustrated. “Can I go to the bathroom, please?”
He considered it. “It’d probably be best to get that bit of business over with, wouldn’t it.” He made his way back over to her.
“Good to know you’re not into that as well,” Dani murmured as he began to mess with the cuff around her ankle. He yanked on her ankle as he gave her a dirty look. “Jesus, sorry.”
The man pulled at his collar, producing a necklace with a key hanging from it that he then pulled over his head and held in his hand. Dani watched reverently, noticing how the dull metal rubbed against his fingers as he brought the key to the cuff and turned it into the lock. She yanked her ankle out of the cuff as soon as the lock popped open, leaning down to rub circles into the tender skin. He didn’t wait for her to finish, instead pulling Dani up by the arm to stand.
Walking her to the door, he turned to her and said, “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she grumbled back.
They were instantly met with the back of a sofa once they stepped out of the study, into a room with both a living area and a dated kitchen. Dani glanced past the red knitted blanket hanging from the arm of the sofa and the end table to stare at the wooden door from across the room, sunlight peeking through the window in it. An exit. As they walked past the kitchen down to the hall, she saw a figure standing by the sink, who turned to look back at her.
Another girl.
She was young, younger than Dani was, but taller, too. Long, blonde hair hung down her shoulders, running down in rivulets that reached past her elbows. Her height had left her willowy, limbs slim enough to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. She pulled down the rolled up sleeves of her blue sweater and worried the loose threads as she stared back.
The man quickly ushered her along, not giving her any more time to watch as the other girl stared right back at her. “Who is that?” Dani asked, craning her neck to get another look.
“She’s none of your concern,” was all the man said back, pulling the second door down the hallway open to reveal a modest bathroom, tightly squeezed with older fixtures. “Make it fast, I don’t have all day.”
Dani nodded, turning to enter the room.
Then, she turned back around and swung her fist right at his jaw.
It connected with a crack, sending him careening towards the wall, gripping his face and groaning. Dani could hear a gasp from across the cabin. She didn’t waste a moment. She wrenched her arm away and backed out of his grasp.
And then, she started to run.
Tag List: @flowersarefreetherapy, @generic-whumperz, @heartinthehospital, @another-whump-sideblog
46 notes ¡ View notes
ashintheairlikesnow ¡ 5 days
Note
trash cat anon: just reread the part where jameson goes upstairs and i'm pretty sure I hallucinated that. it's my headcanon i guess
Jameson is always gentle with Trash Cat, and she is equally gentle with him.
10 notes ¡ View notes