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[cryptidwritings]

Hi Neil! Do you think that anyone can write?

I'm not even convinced that I can write. But I keep doing it anyway, and it seems to work.

[cryptidwritings]

The supernatural fan -> whump enthusiast pipeline is almost as straight as the WWE fan -> DnD enthusiast pipeline, and all of us like seeing our favs in pain.

I find this very amusing.

[cryptidwritings]

[cryptidwritings]

Dark Water

Chapter 46 : Batten Down

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cw: alcohol, manhandling, threatening whumper, noncon partial-nudity (sfw), aggressive tending of wounds, cauterization, drunken state pov, brief flashback of prior abuse, pyrophobia, Reid knows nothing of consent in any capacity.

...

When the thunder finally stopped, Reid opened the door to angry gray clouds, large drops of rain, and no sun in sight. He shut it again with a grunt, settling back into his chair where an empty bottle sat at his feet.

There was nothing to say. Moss would have been just fine lying in bed, but as soon as Reid awoke he opened the door mid-sentence complaining about the storm.

Moss didn’t care about any of it, choosing to drown it all at the other end of his own bottle. Each gulp had him screaming internally, reminding him how he had swore off the stuff. It wasn’t the first silent promise he’d made to himself that he then just as silently broken.

“Oy, lad!”

Moss cringed at the loud boom of Reid’s voice. Everything was so quiet without the thunder.

“I was talkin’ to ye.”

“Oh... go ahead.”

The pirate muttered something under his breath before taking a drink. “I was just saying that there’s a strong chance...”

The fire whipped up and around, crackling and popping the wood it was eating. The rain came in waves on the roof, pattering and falling with splashes onto the ground below. Reid’s voice seemed to blend in, and Moss found himself lost in the middle of it all.

Until he saw Reid’s shadow over him. He looked up, too late to dodge the hand that clasped around his throat and shoved him out of the chair. He jolted with a rough scream as his leg folded underneath him, sending him sprawling to the floor with a crash and the sound of shattered glass. Moss looked up, blinking back the waste in his head, while the pirate stood above him—straddling him with a foot on either side.

Moss gulped. His mind went blank from the toxic drink, and suddenly he was younger, and the man above him was a few inches taller with a round gut and dark blue eyes reflecting back firelight.

“I don’t like being ignored.”

He blinked, and felt the heat. “L-let me go.” The plea fumbled out of his mouth as he clung to his trousers with trembling fingers.

Reid’s head cocked to the side, brows furrowing. “Again with the demands? Ye think one day out of the chains gives ye the right, aye?!”

Reality blurred, Moss’ throat dried and clamped around his vocal chords as his entire body trembled. The fire to his right was so close he could feel the flame whispering onto the hair on his arms.

“Answer me!”

Moss whimpered when Reid shook him, pulling him off the floor with both hands constricting the collar around his neck. It dug into his flesh while Reid’s knuckles pushed on Moss’ throat and dug underneath his chin, pushing his line of sight up to the abyssal eyes.

His lips parted, and his vision blurred as his shaking continued. “I-I’m s-s-sorry... sorry...”

The grip relaxed, allowing him a second to breathe.

“What was that?”

“It won’t...” he swallowed hard, glancing toward the fire. “It won’t happen again... I’m sorry.”

Reid smirked. “Ye only here instead of out there with the dog because I know ye didn’t have a part in any ‘a this. Ye understand?”

“I know,” Moss nodded, closing his eyes. The tremble raked across his body, making his leg ache until his body hit the ground again. He caught his breath and pushed his upper body away from the fire, relaxing with a trepid sigh as Reid moved to squat in front of the fire.

Without a word, he grabbed the fire poker that leaned against the stones and prodded the cinders. They settled with a sizzle.

“Need more wood. I’ll be back.”

Moss blinked again. Reid was gone; his footsteps disappeared after the clatter of the door. The room spun above him, and he felt—in the split of his memory and pang of lucidity—the ocean invading his brain as he struggled to move from the ferocious crackling of the torched logs.

Another blink. His chest moved, dragging oxygen into his lungs in a way that couldn’t satisfy as his mind clawed away from him. He reached trembling hands above him and rolled to his belly, pulling himself away. The floor swung underneath while the wind whistled as the house itself groaned.

Blink. Footsteps. Heat. Hands.

Moss groaned, shoving the hold off of his shoulder as he was pushed onto his back. The movement made his senses swim and pinned him to the ground. Another blink. Reid’s body moved. Another blink. Something moved up his left leg.

Time spun as much as his head. His eyelids opened to something red traveling slowly across his vision. Reid said something; his voice far away, much like Moss’ own mind, trying to make sense of the flashes of input that went blank before revealing itself anew.

Cold, despite the fire. Little pricks of firm ice on his thigh traveled around his skin. His head lolled, and he looked away from the heat to the open door of the bedroom where the chain dangled down its leg. He wanted to say something, but he was busy swimming, blinking the next moment away, then the next.

His jaw clamped on something soft between his teeth while a seething pain seared into his leg. It let up in waves, coming and going, leaving him on the verge of the abyss that carried him a thousand miles away while agony knocked on his skull.

It’s thump beat in time with his heart, awakening him with a drunken groan. Awareness clambered down his neck and chest, to his shoulder blades and hips that ached, then to his thighs where a painful vice wrapped itself around. He curled his toes. His fingers. Then opened his eyes.

His right cheek was squished into the hard floor. He stretched out his curled arms, feeling the sharp pop of his upper back as he took stock of his surroundings and attempted to push himself up, immediately giving up to lie on the cold ground again.

Glowing dots scattered along the floor like stars, made of weak orange and yellow from the dwindling firelight, opposite of the darkness outside of the window just beyond the mass on a bed where Reid snored like a hibernating beast. The sound made Moss’ skin crawl. He shoved his face into his arms, wanting to quiet the ache but instead hissing with the pain in his thigh as the floor scraped along his skin. It shouldn’t be touching his skin.

He pried his eyes open again and looked down. The headache knocked behind his eyes, and he blinked back the dark spots to reveal his exposed legs, and his pants discarded an arms length away.

Moss pushed himself up with shaking arms until he was high enough to sit upright, carefully moving his injured leg as least as possible while the drumming pain echoed in his wound like the throe in his head. It was unbandaged and swollen an angry red around the edges of a sloppy black ‘X’ with a circle at the crossroads.

He wiped his face, taking a breath, feeling the stretch of his skin on the front and back of his thigh. As he reached for his pants, his right foot pushed out and hit something that shifted with a grind, making his eyes snap over. The poker. Next to that, his old bandage, folded, with the imprint of teeth marks embedded deeply into the filthy fabric.

Amongst the hangover, there were other things that lingered in the back of Moss’ mind, but he didn’t want to sit there to decipher them just yet, so he discarded them to make room in his addled brain to carefully pull his pants over his singed flesh before lying on the ground again, still as a mouse, staring into the cinders that blurred as his consciousness waned.

...

“Again with the wake-up call. Get up.” Reid shoved his toe into Moss’ shoulder to give him a little shake.

The lad slowly picked his head up and turned it, looking up at Reid through eyes that felt like he was blinking around sand.

“Ye look like shit.”

Moss collapsed onto the wood floor with a groan. “I feel it.”

Reid responded with a grunt, then something clattered onto the ground next to Moss’ face. He shrunk away, gritting his teeth from the noise that punched him in the temples, then the toe of the pirate’s boot that poked him in the side.

“Up.”

It was sharper; teetering on anger. Moss didn’t feel like arguing so he pushed himself onto his knees, slow enough to manage the spinning. When he planted his right hand, he felt something under his fingertips. The image of a wooden column blurred and righted, leading up to a smooth swoop of wood at the top.

A crutch. Old, by the looks of it, but possibly his size. He pulled it upright and held on as he hoisted himself off the floor, glancing in Reid’s general direction.

“Thanks.”

He shoved the wood under his right armpit and took a meager step forward.

“I used it when I was a lad,” Reid mentioned. “Ye stop growing when ye were ten?”

Moss answered with a lazy nod and shrug. Sure, why not? What difference did it make?

Before he could take another step, he felt Reid’s presence right behind him as a huff of hot air on his scalp.

“Ye wound will heal a lot faster now,” a hand pat Moss’ shoulder, sending shocks down his spine. “Don’t go doing something stupid, aye?”

Moss’ brain pounded and with each thump he felt his fist colliding into Isidro’s face; his gray eye looking into nothingness, stunned, as water dripped from his brow, dragging with it the blood from his lips.

He retreated when Reid let go, making it back to the bed where he collapsed with a groan that he tried to keep trapped in his chest but pushed out as he bent his leg to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the crutch upright between his knees as he hung off of it and rest his head on his arms.

The muscles in his neck stretched, pulling down past his shoulder blades and towards his lower back and hips. He took a deep breath and sunk deeper, grimacing as his muscles fought the stretch until they gave a bit with a pop of his spine. The next breath felt easier, moving around the knot in his gut and to his extremities that loosely held the crutch.

He lift his head, eyeing the wall where he guessed the cell was as his fingers prodded at the handle. Months of healing was just reduced to weeks. He could make it. Both of them could make it.

...

taglist: @sparrowsage @kixngiggles @honey-is-mesi @annablogsposts @sunshiline-writes

[cryptidwritings]

Last Line Tag Game

Yo, thanks for the tag @cryptidwritings!

Admittedly, I haven’t written much in a hot second—but I DO have a scene that’s been floating around in my mind, so I’ll put the last (few lines) of that down.

I watched as he bit the inside of his lower lip to keep from any more tears slipping down. He looked at me—a burning red outlining his eyes and brushing his already flushed cheeks. He swiped his blonde bangs to the side, but the wind blew them back into his eyes. I felt a heavy yank at my chest as I stared at all the pain bottled up inside him.

For the first time, I hugged Charlie.

It’s not as polished as I’d like, but there it is.

Tagging: @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling, @cssnder, @revenantlore

[cryptidwritings]

Nowhere to hide.

Art taglist: @whumpistry, @whumpsday, @flowersarefreetherapy, @rainydaywhump,

@softvampirewhump, @whump-me, @honeybees-125, @evilwriter37, @merciless-whump

[cryptidwritings]

Last Line Paragraph Tag

I got tagged by @cryptidwritings (thank you!), and true to form, I will also be breaking the rules because rules make a really satisfying crunch noise when i snap them in half~ :]

Currently working on a mer fic, so have at:

Surely, the sound that should have left him ought to have been a shriek or a sob. Instead, it was a beautiful keen that pealed out from between his lips. He wanted to scream, to cry - the sound was exquisite, and it was grateful to be let free. He could not help but fear that there was something malicious to the sound, for nothing so ethereal could be wholly uncorrupt. The song went on and on into the deep, even as he clawed at the dip in his throat, his eyes stinging with how tightly he held them shut.

uuuh I don't know a lot of people yet to tag so *digs through blogs I'm following*

@whumperofworlds you wanna get in on this?

@evilwriter37 you're on my dash a bunch, show me whatchu got

(psst if you wanna be friends so i can tag more people in the future, hmu <3 I am in some whump discords)

[cryptidwritings]

Yes, sometimes it's the blood curdling screams and the broken bones and tearing muscles, but other times it's the gentle touch and the hand holding while silent tears fall down dirt stained cheeks

[cryptidwritings]

Children Who Chase Lost Voices / Journey to Agartha (2011)

[cryptidwritings]

Last Line Tag

Thank you for the tag @little-peril-stories (forever ago lol. Sorry it took so long)

I live to break the rules. Here's the last paragraph I've written instead of a last line.

Cw: implied dubcon

From a future chapter of Dark Water:

But, the Isidro he had once been was long gone—buried in an empty grave underneath a gray tombstone, cursed to blood and bones at the bottom of the Captain’s heel and in stranger’s beds. Bent, bruised, and beaten within an inch of itself; reduced to a beating heart willing the flesh not to rot, a zombified version of a man...

A means to an end.

Tagging: @wintherlywords @arrowmoose

@kosmic-kore @illarian-rambling @will-o-the-wips

[cryptidwritings]

A question for writers who work on more than one story at a time:

How?

[cryptidwritings]

Whumpees who are chronically disconnected from their body. Whumpees who get asked if their pain is sharp or dull and literally don’t know the answer. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re cold until someone points out they’re shaking. Whumpee who doesn’t notice they’re hungry until they black out from standing up too fast. Whumpee who genuinely can’t tell when they’re over exerting themself because it all feels the same. It’s not that they don’t feel pain, it’s that they’ve learned to see pain as something constant and unavoidable, not something to be fixed, and they can’t distinguish between different kinds of pain anymore. They’ve learned to ignore the signals from their body while they were powerless, and now that they can prevent or fix pain they still aren’t attuned enough to their body to know how.

Just… whumpees who learned dissociation as a coping skill and now have to unlearn it. Whumpees who deeply benefited from being disconnected until they were safe, making it that much harder to unlearn

[cryptidwritings]

my sweet little angel 👼

[cryptidwritings]

OC Questionnaire Tag

I was tagged by @i-can-even-burn-salad. Thank you for giving me an excuse to write more about Isola :D.

...

1. Do you have any nicknames you go by?

She sits down across from you, pint in hand, and takes a drink while maintaining eye-contact. Half the pint is gone before she rests it down on her knee and cleans the residue from her upper lip with her sleeve.

"If you don't know by now, you're either lucky, or not from Redsor. Either way, a legend doesn't disingenuously spread their own name, so I'll let you find out... naturally."

2. Have you ever been betrayed?

"Of course. One doesn't become a pirate any other way." Isola's eyeline escapes yours a moment, glancing away and down in a millisecond before returning to center.

"I've never met a brutal pirate who hasn't endured an even more brutal betrayal. It's par for the course--an effect to the cause. Beautiful, in a way."

3. What's your most prized possession?

At this, her smile stretches out.

"It's on my ship, safe and sound," her thumb flicks the glass resting on her knee. "for now."

...

tagging @world-of-fire-and-flight @whumpsday @wintherlywords @inadequatecowboy and OPEN TAG.

your questions, if you choose to use them (or you can choose the ones I answered):

If you could choose one day to relive that you would then forget, what would it be?

Choose a non-lethal & anonymous gift to send to your enemy that, upon opening, they immediately know who it's from. What is it?

What is their view of 'freedom'?

[cryptidwritings]

heads up everybody who uses taglists: tumblr's made a change where you can only tag 5 people per line of text. so if you have a taglist like this:

@persononeee @persontwoo @personthreee @personfourr @personfivee @personsixx @personsevenn

the last two people won't be tagged at all! in order to make sure everybody gets a notification, you can do it like this:

@persononeee @persontwoo @personthreee @personfourr @personfivee

@personsixx @personsevenn

remember to check your taglist after posting, preferably on the mobile app, where the difference between tagged and untagged users will be visually obvious.

[cryptidwritings]

Poison list

While it's important to approach writing with creativity and imagination, it's crucial to prioritize responsible and ethical storytelling. That being said, if you're looking for information on poisons for the purpose of writing fiction, it's essential to handle the subject matter with care and accuracy. Here is a list of some common poisons that you can use in your stories:

Hemlock: Hemlock is a highly poisonous plant that has been used as a poison in various works of literature. It can cause paralysis and respiratory failure.

Arsenic: Arsenic is a toxic element that has been historically used as a poison. It can be lethal in high doses and can cause symptoms such as vomiting, abdominal pain, and organ failure.

Cyanide: Cyanide is a fast-acting poison that affects the body's ability to use oxygen. It can cause rapid loss of consciousness and cardiac arrest.

Nightshade: Nightshade plants, such as Belladonna or Deadly Nightshade, contain toxic compounds that can cause hallucinations, respiratory distress, and even death.

Ricin: Ricin is a potent poison derived from the castor bean plant. It can cause organ failure and has been used as a plot device in various fictional works.

Strychnine: Strychnine is a highly toxic alkaloid that affects the nervous system, leading to muscle spasms, convulsions, and respiratory failure.

Snake Venom: Various snake venoms can be used in fiction as deadly poisons. Different snake species have different types of venom, each with its own effects on the body.

Belladonna: Also known as Deadly Nightshade, Belladonna contains tropane alkaloids such as atropine and scopolamine. Ingesting or even touching the plant can lead to symptoms like blurred vision, hallucinations, dizziness, and an increased heart rate.

Digitalis: Digitalis, derived from the foxglove plant, contains cardiac glycosides. It has been historically used to treat heart conditions, but in high doses, it can be toxic. Overdosing on digitalis can cause irregular heart rhythms, nausea, vomiting, and visual disturbances.

Lead: Lead poisoning, often resulting from the ingestion or inhalation of lead-based substances, has been a concern throughout history. Lead is a heavy metal that can affect the nervous system, leading to symptoms such as abdominal pain, cognitive impairment, anemia, and developmental issues, particularly in children.

Mercury: Mercury is a toxic heavy metal that has been used in various forms throughout history. Ingesting or inhaling mercury vapors can lead to mercury poisoning, causing symptoms like neurological impairment, kidney damage, respiratory issues, and gastrointestinal problems.

Aconite: Also known as Wolfsbane or Monkshood, aconite is a highly toxic plant. Its roots and leaves contain aconitine alkaloids, which can affect the heart and nervous system. Ingesting aconite can lead to symptoms like numbness, tingling, paralysis, cardiac arrhythmias, and respiratory failure.

Thallium: Thallium is a toxic heavy metal that can cause severe poisoning. It has been used as a poison due to its tastelessness and ability to mimic other substances. Thallium poisoning can lead to symptoms like hair loss, neurological issues, gastrointestinal disturbances, and damage to the kidneys and liver.

When incorporating poisons into your writing, it is essential to research and accurately portray the effects and symptoms associated with them. Additionally, be mindful of the potential impact your writing may have on readers and the importance of providing appropriate context and warnings if necessary.

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

[cryptidwritings]

If you're okay with being tagged in writeblr/whumpblr tag-games please interact with this post

like it, reblog it, comment something weird, and I'll ad ur @ to a list.