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nocturnal-milk-dud · 1 year

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This book is fantastic 10/10 would recommend 😂😂😂

#i laughed so hard #and it felt so good #because i know if someone tried to use fat as an insult with me I'd react exactly the same way #it's so fucking refreshing #a house with good bones #t kingfisher #books

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clickerflight · 1 year

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Whump week: It made you stronger

@week-of-whump

Masterlist

Part 6

Yooooo! Last one. This last bit was so good to write, and so cathartic to write. I know this was my story, I know what I did, but it still HURTS! Actually, if I need to cry on demand, I think about Ichimaru and it gets me every time.

Content: centipede monster whumper, ex slave whumpee, mention of minor death, mind control, grief, creepy whumper

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

“So, this is where you ended up.”

Souka stood, weapons at his sides. He was grown now, older, wiser, and more powerful than he had been when he had last seen the woman standing in front of him.

Leara, the lady of the household he had been a slave in. The lady of the household where his best friend had died in his arms. The lady of the household where, just that evening, all of the slaves had been freed.

Souka was grown, now, and he was the kind of hero he had been named after. A slave who rose up to free others, and strike down the masters.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she churred. “It’s good to see you again. You look quite well.”

He sneered at her. He had exhausted his voice already for the day while directing slaves to safety, and he very much doubted this woman knew any form of sign language.

“What, nothing to say to me, oh great Souka?”

Souka simply lifted his weapons, ready to cut down another blight.

“Oooh, how scary,” she said, and it hit Souka that she wasn’t begging like the other ones. She wasn’t groveling or ordering servants about. She simply smiled, and he noticed, not for the first time, that her teeth were sharper than they should be.

Souka had been too young, too inexperienced to see it when he was 14. Now he could, though.

The woman began to transform as she stepped forward, lengthening and segmenting.

“You know, your namesake was my slave at one point, too. He escaped, much more on his own merit than the way you go away,” she hissed, her body becoming chitinous. Souka avoided her eyes. He knew what she was, now. Her body became longer and longer, awful clicking legs echoing on the walls as she circled the room, blocking the exits with her centipede body.

“He came back, he rescued slave after slave,” she said, twisting and contorting to try and catch Souka’s eye so she could weave a spell over him. “Then he came here. To me. He was more prepared though.”

Souka struck. She flinched back, but he managed to sever a couple of legs. She screamed, twisting and striking at him, and he dodged quickly to the middle of the room, sword at the ready.

“He was slower than you, I suppose,” she grumbled. “But you’ll fall, all the same. He came here and looked me in the eyes, declared that he was the savior of the slaves, but he was already mine. I suppose you’re a little smarter than him, hmmm? Or maybe you learned your lessons a bit better as a slave, not to look your betters in the eyes.”

Souka took a deep breath. He wouldn’t rise to her jibes. He stayed calm and rushed her again, this time getting in a deep cut on her body and dodging away as green blood oozed from the wound.

Leara dove for him over and over again, only getting wounds for her efforts before she scuttled back, circling and guarding the exits again.

“Oooooh, you’re little white haired friend would be so proud of you, wouldn’t he? He’s the one who named you, right?”

Souka didn’t flinch, he didn’t let a single tell show on his face that she was broaching a painful subject.

“Ah, yes. Ichimaru. That was his name, right? He was older than you by a little, protective little thing. Sickly little thing. Did you know at that time that he was putting so much of his hope in you because he knew he wouldn’t make it out?”

Souka continued to study her for an opening, planning his next attacks, but her words stung. He hadn’t known at the time. He’d guessed at it later, but never let himself dwell on it.It had hurt too much.

He had let Ichimaru build him up slowly over months, let himself hope that maybe there was more to the world than being a nameless slave who knew nothing but pain and work, and then-

“It’s always annoying when the slaves get sick. Their work slows down and whipping them at that point only loses me workers. And while that is annoying, it is almost fun. I like watching the moral sink even lower than it was before, watching everyone cry for the lost connections. Watching you, my little hopeless slave boy, weep over that cold dead body for hours was so much fun. You had really dared to think you’d be getting out of here. That you’d be something someday. And then you lost everything once again.”

Souka could feel his hands shaking. He remembered that night. He remembered the pain and the anguish. He still cried at night, sometimes, thinking about Ichimaru. If only he could have survived just a little bit longer. Then Anisha would have taken both of them in and he would have gotten help.

“I heard you and your ilk were looking for where his body was buried. Wanted to give him a proper burial, hmmm?” Leara asked, still trying to catch Souka’s narrowed eyes. “Don’t worry, I took good care of it. I am a very big centipede, no? I need a lot of food.”

Souka didn’t even think. Red took his vision and he attacked, desperately needing to inflict pain on this evil creature, make her feel even a fraction of the pain he’d been through.

She was ready for him, though. She struck faster than he could process with the grief flowing through him in waves, and the best he could do was close his eyes as she wrapped her horrible segmented body around him, pinning his arms to his sides and forcing him to drop his weapons. Her awful legs poked at him as she squeezed him, keeping him from moving as they parted his hair so his eyes were clear of everything else.

He flinched when a leg touched his face, the end covered in tiny hooks that pulled unpleasantly at his skin.

“And look at all of you now. That pain made you stronger. Now you’re the hero Souka 2.0! I could make you my warrior! And since you absorbed the Torsha amulet you will last even longer than the last one,” she said with a croon. “Come on, pet. Open your eyes.”

Souka shook as he tried to free himself, the legs tapping and pulling at his face, trying to pry his eyes open. There was only so much strength to be found in eyelids, and the prying little legs were winning. Souka rolled his eyes up as much as he could, following his eyelids, trying to pry his head away from the terrifying grasp Leara had on him.

“Come on now, child,” Leara said, annoyed. “It won’t hurt. I expect it would be a relief. You won’t have to think about anything. I can take the pain away.”

Souka tried to find his voice, but all that came out was a wheezing gasp, his throat aching at the effort. He writhed again when his fingers came across something wet. It was one of the wounds from before and he dug his fingers in, tearing it open farther.

Leara screamed, dropping him on instinct and he scooped one of his swords up, turning and slashing across her belly.

“You filthy little beast!” she shrieked, striking at him. Her blow was ineffective, bouncing off of his impervious skin and he held his ground, watching for her head out of the corner of his eye. She rounded on him, ready to wrap around him again and he ducked to the side, swinging his sword.

With a clean snick sound, her head fell to the ground and her screaming stopped immediately. Her body skittered around the room still, searching and twitching as it went. After about 20 chopped off limbs, the body collapsed to the floor, unable to support its weight.

Souka stared at his fallen enemy. He mouthed and signed to himself; to the body on the floor.

I should have come back sooner.

@whumpsday