#broken glass mention

[tildeathiwillwrite]

"Is that a kid!?"

WoW Birthday Whump Day 7: Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / "Is that blood?!"

Whumpril Day 7 (Hesitation)

WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

TW: blood, referenced kidnapping, referenced poison, referenced torture, cleaning wounds

Context: Draven receives an unexpected visit from Octavian. And he's not alone. A.K.A. Draven meets a child who is definitely not traumatized.

-----

Draven was in the middle of housework when the front door lock clicked. He froze, dusting cloth in one hand, the other reaching for the pistol at his side. The door creaked as someone pushed it open, then it shut just as quickly. Was that two sets of footsteps?

The door lock clicked a second time, and Draven drew the pistol, letting the dusting cloth fall to the floor. “Hiro?” He called, scrambling off the table—where he was dusting off the lamp above—and moving towards the doorway that connected the kitchen to the main living space. What he saw when he entered the room gave him pause.

“Is that blood?!”

Octavian glanced down at his hand. The skin on his knuckles had broken, and the cloth wadded tightly around his palm was soaked in the pale red liquid. A nasty gash above his right eye dripped blood down his face like tears. “...yes.”

Draven jumped as a small head popped out from behind Octavian. “And is that a kid?”

The girl flinched at his words and ducked back out of view. She was young, couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen, with short blonde hair.

“Also yes,” Octavian said simply. “I found her in the forest while hunting.”

Draven slid the pistol back into its holster. “Did you lose a fight with a bear? I expected better from you, de Silv.”

The devar rolled his eyes. “Obviously not. I sustained these injuries while trying to escort her home.” He gave the girl a significant look. “Because she hadn’t bothered to tell me she’d been kidnapped.”

“I said I was sorry,” the girl mumbled, barely audible from across the room.

“Kidnapped? Is that why you brought her here, of all places?” Draven crossed the room and reassessed both their injuries. Other than the bloody knuckles, the cut above his eye, and probably a few bruises, Octavian looked all right. The girl, however, was another case.

Upon first inspection, she only looked to have a partially scabbed-over cut on her left cheek. But the deep red stains on the sleeves of her jacket, too big for her, told a different story. She also didn’t look like she’d had a proper night’s sleep in some time. Draven could relate.

The girl’s face reddened at Draven’s inspection. Her eyes were downcast, and she picked at the hems of her jacket.

“Yes. I assume that whoever had taken her had agents in Zariya, they tried to snatch her off the street before we got out of sight.”

The key word was ‘tried’. Draven nodded before turning on his heel and darting back to the kitchen. Snatching his bag from its place on the table, he returned and dropped it in front of one of the couches. “Sit,” he ordered.

Octavian did so without question or hesitation, and the girl meekly followed. Draven rummaged through the bag, searching through the disorganized mess for the medical supplies he kept on hand. The hunting business was notorious for many on-the-job injuries, even for the mercenaries.

The first thing Draven shoved at Octavian was the tiny bottle of augri, alcohol so pure that ingesting it might cause death. “For cleaning the wounds. Not for drinking.”

The devar regarded him with mild amusement. “My people—er—my poison tolerance is greater than you realize, Cozenson.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Draven handed him a pair of handkerchiefs. “I don’t have extra on hand and it doesn’t taste good anyway.”

“...how do you know that?” the girl asked quietly as Octavian wet one of the cloths with the augri.

Draven tossed the rest of the medical supplies onto the couch next to Octavian. It was a jumble of different bandages that he hoped would be enough to bind their wounds. All as clean as possible, of course. He had standards. “Hiro—my roommate—dared me to try some once when we were in training. I didn’t swallow it, obviously, but let’s just say I prefer whiskey.”

The girl frowned. “‘Training’?”

Octavian pressed the handkerchief to his injured knuckles and hissed out through his teeth. “He’s a lycanthrope hunter. My apologies, I didn’t introduce you. This is Draven Cozenson, my partner. Draven, this is Reese.”

Reese’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re the werewolf hunter? The one who used to work in the northern forests?”

Draven rocked back on his heels, mystified. “Yeah, that’s me.” He knew his fame had grown since training, but for a random Zariyan girl to know who he was… had he really gotten that famous? Apparently so.

Octavian finished cleaning off his hand and started wrapping it. “You’re going to have to remove the jacket,” he said softly. 

Reese glanced down at her forearms, hidden underneath the stained sleeves, and grimaced. “Oh… yeah….” She slowly slipped off the jacket, jaw set as her wounds were revealed.

Draven cursed. “What in the depths did they do to you, kid?”

The cuts were shallow, thank the celestials, but so much of her blood was smeared over the skin that it was impossible to tell the extent.

“The cuts weren't them,” Reese said, numb. She pointed to the bruises on her inner elbows and wrists. “That's what they did. The cuts were done by… I think it was a fellow prisoner. With broken glass.”

Octavian froze in the act of scrubbing the blood from his face. “You didn't tell me that.”

Reese only shrugged, reaching for the augri and the other handkerchief. She winced when the alcohol made contact with the cuts but did not cry out.

Draven made uneasy eye contact with Octavian as the devar cleaned the gash over his eye. This changed things, and they both knew it. Not only had the people who'd taken Reese tried to get her back, they'd done so in broad daylight. Octavian defended her, and although they escaped, her abductors would be keeping watch for both of them.

“I need you both to lie low for a few days,” Draven began, rising to his feet. “Perhaps even move to my other safehouse when it gets dark. Then we get Reese home safely and figure out our next move from here.” He glanced at Reese. “Did you learn any of your captors’ names?”

She hesitated before responding. “Only Sagon. I don't know his last name. He has long black hair, it's always pulled back, but he wore a mask like a black circle to cover his face.”

Octavian folded his arms. “I can handle myself, Cozenson. They were no match for me.”

“Clearly…” Draven deadpanned, eyeing the cut on his head. “How'd you end up with a wound like that, anyway?”

The devar muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“Hmm?”

“...I let myself get slammed into a table…” Octavian repeated, face darkening.

Draven smirked. “‘Handle yourself’, indeed.”

“Shut up.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

[donnadarling]

Glass

(A poem by Donna Darling)

"Be ye holy as I am holy," He said So we know we're doing well. For Heaven knows the Holy One Never descended into Hell! Holiness never sat beside sinners Never healed their aching wounds Never drank wine, held men Never blessed the unwed womb. "Take up your crosses," He said So we wear them round our necks. Large enough for the worlds to see Small enough not to break a back Or if we want to suffer like Him A candy one we might buy. We'll fill it up with broken glass Call it martyrdom when we bleed and cry

[apotheotic-cravings]

What was meant to be a sketch of Harrow in formal wear quickly devolved into a shitty comic of perhaps my favourite scene in htn

[uncanny-tranny]

A really sinister aspect into how people view children and parents is the idea of children being a replaceable commodity.

I've seen this in the way people talk about parents who have lost children but have surviving children... "Oh, at least you have other children," as though a child is just an interchangeable tool, a machine that dispenses what you want from it without it being sentient, whole, and feeling. The fact that people say that in order to comfort somebody shows, to me, how deep this mindset is engraved in people's brains: children are interchangeable items, and they do not fundamentally matter.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Dr. Warren Chapin

The Tingler (1959) dir. William Castle

[lotshusband]

oh how i would love it if strangers would refrain from asking me about my scars ❤️ the most annoying part is that my most visible scar right now was caused by a very improbable accident so even if i just laugh off the question with a quick explanation i sound like a bad liar. hell on earth

[sekaithemystic]

run away with me [chapter 1]

or as known as the songv roadtrip fic that was supposed to be a oneshot but my hands slipped and now it's going to be insane

ao3 link

It had been a crazy idea. Let's drive across the country to New York! But then V realized she wouldn't mind spending the last few months of her life visiting that forgotten part of So Mi, and So Mi started talking about places she used to frequent, then before any of them could have a second thought, they were already three hundred miles away from Night City.

The room was as cramped as V expected, but she still couldn't help a sigh from escaping her lips. At least the bed looked decent, and she immediately threw herself upon it, unconcerned about everything else. 

Well, maybe one thing—one person, more specifically.

“Jeez, here I thought I was tired.” So Mi put their backpack against the wall, and V didn't have to flop on her back to know she was wearing that teasing smile that never failed to make her heart race. 

“Have 'ever driven this far,” the mercenary replied, finally finding the strength to sit up. Song came to settle down on the foot of the bed, so she scooted lower until their shoulders bumped against each other. “And you kept pointing the wrong way.”

“How am I supposed to know that they hadn't updated the map of this area for years?” So Mi jabbed her elbow at V's side, and the younger woman cackled, hands moving to defend herself from the upcoming assault.

It had been a crazy idea. Let's drive across the country to New York! But then V realized she wouldn't mind spending the last few months of her life visiting that forgotten part of So Mi, and So Mi started talking about places she used to frequent, then before any of them could have a second thought, they were already three hundred miles away from Night City.

So here they were, sprawling across the bed in a motel out of nowhere, tired and dust-covered after a long day on the road.

“Come on, let’s take a shower before you fall asleep.” So Mi pulled her up by the arms, metal fingers curling around her wrist. V grumbled in protest but followed her nonetheless. The bathroom was, surprisingly, clean and neatly organized, not like there was much to begin with. The mercenary went for the water tap and twisted it counterclockwise until her grip was met with resistance. It was rather cold for an evening bath, but whatever, she supposed, before turning around to face So Mi.

A naked So Mi, more specifically.

She had shed the Samurai t-shirt she hastily took from V’s wardrobe before they left, leaving her bare skin on display, even though V doubted much of it was actual skin anyway. The last thought was drowned away by a wave of embarrassment and self-consciousness on the fact that this was the first time she saw the netrunner unclothed, and as if to make the matter worse, she was staring at the woman quite impolitely.

Um. Shit. Fuck.

In a rather clumsy attempt to hide the rising heat on her cheeks, she pinned her gaze on the tiled floor, one hand covering her burning face. Above her, a laugh rang out, so full of teasing that it only intensified whatever emotion she was feeling right now. Right, she was a full-fledged, soon-to-be 24 years old, who had been through enough shits to be called a legend in Night City, and she was also blushing like a maiden.

“Full of surprise, aren’t you?” said the reason V couldn’t even look up, the echo of her chuckles lingering by her reddened ears. “Come on, what’s there to be so embarrassed about? I’m sure you have had your own fair share of experience before.”

Song wasn’t wrong about that, but it was not like she could mutter back a response when she was still too busy to calm her racing heart down. She didn't understand why she was acting like this, either; but before any more questions could take place, So Mi's hands came to rest on her waist, urging her to undress as well. Mindlessly, with her head bowed, she complied, fingers sluggishly popping button after button of her drenched shirt, revealing the sports bra under. V could feel Song's gaze lingering on her exposed skin, admiring the well-defined muscles and hard edges, and goosebumps broke out on her arms, a chill threatening to rush down her spine. Her hands moved up to push the fabric away and smooth over her shoulders, toying with the cotton straps. Those mechanical fingers that were meant to type on the keyboard endlessly did a wonderful job of evoking nerve-wracking sensations inside her, and had her brain been a computer, it would have been fried long ago. Her arms suddenly wrapped around V's neck, forcing her to look So Mi in the eyes.

“You are beautiful.” Words left her mouth even before she could comprehend it. So many times, and the woman had always left her starstruck by her beauty like in their very first meeting. Could it be possible to fall in love with the same person over and over again?

“I know,” So Mi answered with a raised eyebrow as if it was obvious for V to be smitten. “But that bath is calling to us, so take those pants off, V.”

Reluctantly tearing herself away from the warm embrace, the younger woman unbuckled her belt, pulling both her jeans and underwear down until they pooled around her ankles. The tub managed to fit both of them, somehow, not that V complained. She still found it rather awkward to look at So Mi, instead opting for a blank spot on the wall. For a good moment, there was no sound, save for running water and the hum of the air conditioner. The peacefulness overwhelmed her senses, to the point she almost forgot that she would die, soon.

Yes, she had six months left, six months before her body failed and dragged her to the grave. The selfish part of her demanded an explanation on why she was wasting her time out here, trying to please someone whom she had to sacrifice her own chance of living for, but the selfless one—the stupid one really, found it rather comforting that she was able to show kindness, even when the world was ending for her. Then it led to another question: should she break the news to So Mi?

“What’s on your mind?” Brown eyes met hers in the dim light of the bathroom, full of worry and concern, and V knew the woman would only blame herself if she got a grasp on her situation. She had just escaped years of burdens, years of guilt; there was no way V could do this to her.

Or at least, the “good” part of her advised so.

“Just… thinking.” V swiped her hair back, feeling water trickling down the back of her neck. “A lot’s been happening and I haven’t had time to actually sit down and think about them, suppose.” Especially the part where I am dying and I’m not sure how to deal with that.

“You want to talk about it?” The offer was sincere, even without So Mi’s consciousness lingering inside her. How much should she talk without being too tightlipped or oversharing?

“Johnny and I, we parted on bad terms.” Bad terms was an understatement—she couldn’t recall their last talk without remembering that one last disgusted look he threw at her. More than just disgust, anger, disappointment, and betrayal were burning in his eyes, all at the same time. “I’m not sure how to deal with the knowledge that I failed him.”

“Because you trusted Arasaka?” inquired So Mi, and she nodded solemnly. “There are always strings attached when you run with corporations, we both know that,” V winced at the absolute fact that she knew but ignored all the time, “but in the end, it comes back to you: how do you feel about your choice?”

Like shit, she was tempted to answer so; however, she thought back to her options, of how most of those would have her putting her friends and acquaintances in danger. What were the chances that Panam couldn’t walk out of Arasaka Tower alive? Or Rogue? Or herself? 

Or that one person she had promised to protect with her whole life, a long time ago?

“I think I chose right,” V admitted with a sigh. So Mi smiled then, fingers twirling a strand of her pink hair; it had grown longer since the last time they saw each other.

“There you have it.” She reached over to lay her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Right doesn’t always feel good, but at least it’s your choice, not his, not a choice you made under his influence, either.”

But sometimes she wished he would have made that choice, instead of her. It was always easier to follow others than to follow her own way, or maybe she couldn’t escape her nature in the end.

The bath had turned cold by the time they left it, but something warm burned inside V’s chest; a tiny fire, made by So Mi, started its new life here and now, right at this moment.

.

“Turn that valve, and check if there is any soot inside.” Her father’s voice was rather static through the phone speaker, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise at all, considering how bad the signal was.

“Yeah, there is a little stuck in here,” replied V, stealing a glance at the pixelated image of the older man on the screen So Mi was holding. “Do I clean it?”

She dreaded the idea of their car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, but now that it came true, there wasn’t much she could do aside from hoping that her amateur mechanics skill would be enough to get them to the nearest garage. Her father turned to speak with someone else, likely one of his apprentices, before directing his attention back to her.

“Grab a napkin and use your finger. Something’s wrong with the fuel pipe probably, so this is just a temporary solution for now.” That made both of them wince; whatever happened with the car sounded critical and beyond their ability. Funny how defeated Night City’s rising mercenary and one of the world’s best netrunners were at doing such mundane work. “I should have taken a look at your vehicle by myself hadn’t my headache persisted. Told those kids they still had a lot to learn, and apparently I was right.” He huffed, and V could imagine those young mechanics sweating nervously while thinking of the upcoming berate.

“Well, it’s fine really. We’ll manage.” Even she didn’t believe her own words, but whatever to keep her father’s worry at bay. So Mi chimed in, a polite smile that would absolutely charm him plastering on her face.

“You already help us more than we can ask for.” It was impossible to read his expression with how bad the video quality was, but V assured herself that Song’s words probably had an effect on him somehow.

“Remember to call your mom later before you turn in for the night,” he reminded her, before hanging up, leaving both women heaving a sigh. 

“Here to hope that heaven will bestow a lifesaver upon us,” V grunted and So Mi cackled, handing her a dry towel to clean her oil-covered hands.

Twenty-three miles later, with the clock barely hit eleven in the morning, they spotted what must have been a dozen pickup trucks and cars heading their way. So Mi shifted nervously in her seat, and V couldn’t help but mirror her action. Best case, it was just a normal nomad group; worst case, the Raffen Shiv had decided that they were the latest target, and the obvious solution was to fight their way out.

But that symbol on the flying flag tugged at the back of her hazy mind, a familiarity she couldn’t place. Something started with A, a place that had accepted her to be one of them.

“Pan!” V leaned out of the window, screaming at the top of her lungs. Poor So Mi was probably startled by the sudden reaction, but she would apologize later; right now, her eyes were squinting to catch sight of that figure returning her gesture. Unsurprisingly, she heard a response, the sound almost lost in the wind and sand of the desert.

“V you bastard!” Panam laughed, or cursed, or whatsoever, and her car skidded to a stop right next to theirs. She looked the same as V last saw her, with even more energy than usual. “What the Hell are you doing out there? Thought you and your city girl ass would never set foot out here?” 

“Road trip,” the mercenary replied, motioning at So Mi awkwardly sitting next to her. “Panam, So Mi. So Mi, Panam, as known as the most natural asshole of Badlands.” 

“That’s no way to refer to a lady, you rat!” She swatted at her shoulder, though that grin didn’t look like it would disappear any time soon. “Come, we are setting up camp soon. You and your friend should join us.”

“Not gonna say no to that,” V chuckled, waving at Mitch approaching them, “especially since we need a good mechanic to take a look at my car.”

Later, when they were following the Aldecaldos across the desert, So Mi finally spoke up, her gaze setting firmly on the younger woman as if she couldn’t believe whatever just unfolded in front of her.

“Interesting friends you have.” V only laughed at that, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “How did you end up being friends with a nomad group?” 

“Come on, I’ve done wilder things, and you never ask about them.” The pout elicited a smile from So Mi, who nudged at her teasingly in order to coax the story out of her, and it was not like she could deny the older woman if such a thing was possible in the first place. “I did what I’m best at: getting between family drama and, well, you know the rest.”

This time, it was So Mi who pouted at the vague answer; now that V had seen how cute she was, she felt like she should do this more often. Still, she offered an apologetic shrug, one hand scratching at her sweating nape.

“To be honest, a lot of my memories were jumbled as an effect of the Relic.” Her gaze softened at that, and V couldn’t help the sudden warmth rising in her chest. “So if you want the whole thing, it’s better to ask Panam, really.”

“So you had to go through it too.” A shiver.

“Not as bad as you.” She thought back to So Mi’s words in Dogtown. A snowflake lands on my glove. I can calculate its unique fractal structure, but what did my mom’s voice sound like? “It’s like, someone goes inside my home and puts everything in the wrong cabinets, instead of taking them away. And now I have to reorganize the whole thing.” If I can live until then.

“So listening to others should help you?” V twisted her lips in thoughts, before giving a firm nod.

“I guess? Only one way to find out.” Before she could return her full attention to driving, So Mi laid a hand on her arm, fingers curling around her wrist. Their eyes met, and she gulped, not sure what to expect at this moment.

“Just know that I’ll help you however I can, I promise.”

[buffyspeak]

aria montgomery deserved better 2kforever like. in these first two seasons, her relationship with ezra is hard to watch (in more ways than one! i sometimes find myself rooting for them not to get caught, largely because i like and have sympathy for aria but also because the actors do genuinely have good chemistry. but then i remember how fucked up it is! that’s why the romanticization of this relationship was so dangerous!) - anyway. it was hard to watch and messy but she also had like. other things in her story that at least made her feel like a more fleshed out character. and i always see people saying things about how she’s not as kind as she acts like but she literally shows so much empathy to. most people. and her role as a psuedo caretaker/fixer in her family is so nuanced and interesting and informs a lot of how she interacts with ezra (she feels like she’s been forced into a more adult role, so she courts this adult ‘romance’. ugh.) and it legitimately could have been a nuanced and interesting story about family dynamics and the pressure on teenage girls in their roles in family and how that can be connected to grooming if it had been written that way but!!!!

anyway her story just becomes more and more entangled with Only Being About Ezra from what i remember. which is one of the reasons people kept theorizing about her being A but. i just see it as isolation (not total, she is obviously still very close with her friends, but there is a sort of disconnect.) and then they get MARRIED????? she deserved better for real.

[clickerflight]

Esial : Part 6 - Hospital

Masterlist

Part 5

Here we go! I'm having so much fun with this story. I was a little stuck for how to continue, but I have some plans and some plot that will link into Joseph's story and everything. Is a good time. Anyways, here you are.

Content: Vampire whumpee, hit by car, broken leg, road burn, hospital setting, lacerations from glass, surgery, open wound, gun mention (not used)

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

Esial didn’t know any of these people. There were people all over Kyle’s home, looking at things, using weird tools, and taking Kyle away. 

Esial nearly lost it when some people came in with strange things covering their hands, putting Kyle on a board that was made from something Esial still did not recognize, and started rolling him out. 

Joseph had a hold of him, and spoke quickly. “It’s okay, man. It’s alright. They’re going to get him some help, okay?”

“NO!” Esial hissed, trying to break free, but he was still weak from the regeneration, even if he was full of animal and human blood. “No!”

“I know, man. It’s gonna be okay, yeah? You’ll see him later.”

Neither Joseph or Esial watched as Joanna was taken from the room. 

“Please, please, I-” Esial didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. He had some words, but not enough. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t know who these people were, he didn’t know why Joseph was a vampire like him but seemed so very different. He didn’t know what anything was made of and he craved the blood of the humans ducking in and out of the room. 

“Is he the one who nearly drained the woman?” another weird vampire asked. She had more pockets on her clothes than Esial had ever seen, and she seemed very formal. 

“Ah, yes, Granger,” Joseph said. “It was definitely self defense, though.”

The woman hummed. “Alright, we’ll need to get him to the rehab center and into the hands of the employees there. Get him taken care of and we’ll come by to ask him some questions.”

“Works for me,” Joseph said with a nod. “Come on, man. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

Esial hissed. He was confused, he was scared, and he didn’t want Kyle to die. Kyle was the only person who had been kind to him since he woke up and he didn’t want that kindness to be repaid in blood and violence. 

“Hey,” Joseph said, a strange crooning entering his voice as he spoke. “You’ll be alright, kay? How about we go to my apartment and I’ll make some calls.”

“Don’t want calls,” Esial said, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t want- I-” Esial sucked in a breath, the air still laced with the scent of blood. “I want crocodiles.”

“What? Nevermind, we’ll unpack that later. Just come with me.”

Esial sobbed, stumbling as he was tucked under Joseph’s arm. 

“You’ll be okay,” Joseph said as he helped Esial down the stairs and to a slightly ajar door. 

Esial looked around the room, surprised that the design was the same as Kyle’s home. 

“Alright, let's get the blood off you first. You’re kind of small. I’m not sure I have any clothes that will fit you, and none of Muir’s things will fit you in the slightest.”

Esial nodded faintly as he entered a room with a seeing glass. Esial stared at himself for a moment. He had watched himself in Kyle’s seeing glass for a while when Kyle had been out, but it was still strange. His hair was curled around his face, dark and long enough to brush his collar bones. He looked so frail, though maybe less so with the blood smeared on his face and arms. 

Joseph took a rag from one of the drawers and started wiping the blood away after soaking the rag in the magically appearing water. Esial closed his eyes, holding still as the other vampire muttered to himself. 

“There,” Joseph said, tossing the rag into a basket by the sink. “Wait here. I’ll get some clothes.”

Esial watched him go and looked around the bathroom. He didn’t want whatever clothing Joseph was going to bring him. It was going to be weird and suffocating like the clothing Kyle had brought him. 

He pulled off the blood stained garments and grabbed a towel from a stack of them. He froze for a moment, mind flashing to Joanna, picking at the fabric while she pounded words into his head. He shook his head. Her blood was inside him now. He felt like he had taken a part of himself back. 

Still, he put the towel down. 

Joseph came back, holding a couple of things. “Alright, this will probably work and- Oh geez. I didn’t think you’d… you know what, never mind. Here you go.”

Esial took the shirt and pants and slipped them on, pulling at the fabric uncomfortably. 

“Are you tired?” Joseph asked.

Esial wasn’t. He felt like he had electricity surging in his veins, telling him to find Kyle. But he wanted to be away from Joseph, so he nodded. 

“Thought so. You’ve had a crazy night. Here, you can take my bed. I’ll have the couch for the night. 

Esial nodded. He wanted to skip to the part where he was alone. Joseph kept talking as he showed the way to a room and Esial made a show of getting cozy, but he wasn’t listening. The only thought on his mind was escape. 

“Good night. Wake me up if you need anything,” Joseph said and he turned out the light using the little switch by the door and left, closing the door behind him. 

Esial was up in a moment, digging through everything as silently as he could. 

He found fabric in the closet with a texture he didn’t hate. It wasn’t as stupidly soft as what he was wearing, that was for certain. 

He pulled off his clothes and threw them across the room in a fit of stressed out anger before tying the large sheet of fabric around himself in a way that was similar to his old clothes. He tore off a strip from another length of fabric, using it to tie his hair back. 

After making sure everything would stay, tearing off another bit of fabric to use as a belt just to be sure, he started looking for a way out. 

To his delight, he discovered that the glass in the windows could be slid to the side, and the mesh beyond was easy to pop out. He did so and leapt out, landing on the hard flat rock that seemed to line everything outside. 

With that, he lifted his head, smelling for Kyle. The man had been bleeding so it was easy enough to find the trail. Until it wasn’t. Kyle’s scent mixed with the smell of caustic burning things, like the smell that rolled off of the car Kyle had brought him here in. 

Esial was smart. He was a hunter. He could figure this out. 

He paced in circles, taking in deep breaths and pausing to clear his sinuses. There were differences in the smells. The burning from Kyle’s car smelled different from the others. And there was a very different burning smell mixed around Kyle’s scent. 

He took off running, following it and memorizing it at the same time. They had a headstart on him. His speed seemed to be returning sure enough, though, so he wasn’t too worried. Besides, they had to stop somewhere. That was how hunting worked. The prey had to stop somewhere to rest and he would catch up when that happened. 

At least, that had been the plan. 

Something bright appeared on the stone ahead, and Esial froze, trying to figure out what it was that was approaching so quickly. 

There was a loud noise that blasted through the air and he flinched back, trying to run from whatever was making it, but the lights slammed into him, sending him off the rock and into the prickly growth alongside it. He heard something, maybe a door? And voices. 

He didn’t wait and took off limping. His leg was definitely broken and his arms were badly skinned but he kept going. They were healing anyway. 

He ran as fast as he could, falling into a couple of ditches and slamming his shins into rocks. 

He got back to the hard rock, running when his legs healed properly. The pain had been Nothing compared to regenerating, but he still made sure to throw himself off the rock whenever another set of lights showed up through the dark. He skidded to a halt when he saw the city. It was huge, and bright. There were lights everywhere, and some buildings in the distance that were large enough to probably touch the sun barge as it flew overhead. The smell rolling off of it was nothing he’d ever experienced. He covered his nose, coughing and retching. The scent was so hostile. There was no fertility here. Just bad smelling rock and acrid burning. 

He did not forget his task. He had to find Kyle, and so, after a few eye watering minutes of gathering himself, he forged ahead. 

His feet hurt, the rock sapping moisture from him at every step, the smell burned in his sinuses, he still ached from being hit by the lights, and he just wanted things to make sense. He gagged everytime he smelled for the trail, but he managed to find it again, and he took off running. 

There were people here, occasionally, coming out of buildings or walking along the stone paths. There were more of the lights, attached to cars, but they were moving much slower here. 

“Hey!”

He turned and saw a man looking at him, concern and a bit of fear showing on his face. “You alright?”

Esial didn’t have time for the distraction and bared his fangs at the man, hissing. The man stumbled back, pulling out a rectangular object and holding it to his ear. 

Esial heard something about ‘feral vampire’ and ‘threatened me’ but he was running again. 

The car passed in front of a huge, bright building. He picked up Kyle’s smell again and dropped the car trail to pick up that on. He forced his way through the doors, surprising the people on the other side. 

“Sir, are you-”

Esial hissed, dashing past them and slamming into a door that he found wouldn’t open for him. He drew back his hand and punched through the glass to the side of the door, forcing his way through and ignoring the cuts in his feet and hand. 

Blood trailed after him as he rushed through the bright halls, past rooms that smelled of injury, sickness, and awful acrid things he couldn’t quite place. 

His blood scent was strong and distracting, as were the many noises in this place and the loud blaring that lit through the halls as people shouted at him. 

He didn’t care. He needed to make sure Kyle was alive. He needed to know he was going to be okay. He needed to- he wanted-

He wanted his crocodiles. 

He forced his way past strange people in strange clothing, an unstoppable force as he found Kyle. He was laying on a table, eyes closed and masked people  standing over him, one with a blade in hand. Were they priests? Were they removing Kyle’s organs to have him mummified? 

He shrieked, diving forward to fight them off. 

“Get out!”

“It’s feral!”

“The patient!”

“No, leave. Get out!”

The priests left quickly, though Esial could hear people coming so he grabbed the nearest heavy object and shoved it in front of the doors. He did so with a few more things before backing off, breathing hard. He ran to the table, ripping off the strange thing on Kyle’s face. 

“Kyle,” he cried horsley. “Kyle, please. Wake up, please.”

He glanced down at the wound and back at Kyle’s face. He shook the man a little, tears now running down his face. “Please, wake up. Please, I’m scared.”

Kyle’s heart was still beating, the beats lining up with the soft beeps coming from an object with moving lines and symbols. Esial didn’t know what sort of witchcraft it was, but it only made him more nervous. He looked down at his bleeding arm, backing up into a corner to pull shards of glass from it. He stumbled back to Kyle once he’d done so, shaking him again, now openly sobbing. 

“Please, I’m scared, please don’t be dead. Kyle, please.”

Kyle groaned, his eyes fluttering and Esial choked on his saliva in surprise. 

“Kyle!” he cried as men started to ram the door. 

Kyle opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. “E-Esial?”

“Oh, thank Heka! I don’t know what those priests were doing to you, but we need to go!”

“Go?” Kyle croaked, looking around. “Am I in a hospital?”

“We need to go! They’re going to get in!” Esial said, frantic. 

Kyle looked down his body and made a very strange noise. Somewhere between a croak and a yelp, with the undertone of ‘about to be sick.’ 

“Surgery? Esial, am I in a surgery room?”

“Why would I know!? We need to go! There’s still time to-”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Kyle!” Esial whined, voice trembling as there was another bang and the stuff in front of the door moved. 

“ESIAL!?” Kyle shrieked, sitting up slightly to see better. “Did you just break into a hospital and barricade us in a surgery room while they were in the middle of operating on me!?”

“I only know what half of those words mean,” Esial whispered, bringing his shoulders up to hide. Kyle was angry at him and he had no idea why. He was trying to save Kyle’s life. 

Kyle stared at him, and Esial didn’t like how pale he looked. “I… I thought I was help-”

The doors slammed open and Esial flew back to the corner. There were weapons in their hands like the one Joanna had. 

“No!” Kyle yelped. “No, don’t shoot him! I can explain. Please, he’s just scared!”

Esial made himself small as one of the men said, “What’s going on here?”

“He, augh, he’s from 3000 BC. He’s been just a heart for 5000 years. He just barely, mmm, he barely regenerated. He thought I was in danger. Don’t hurt him!”

Esial stayed pressed into the corner, trying to look small and harmless. He was in a lot of trouble, he knew that now. 

"Please. Just, um-" Kyle rubbed his head, glancing back at Esial. 

"It's alright, sir," said the leader of the armed men. "We'll take him to the station and keep him safe for a bit. Do you know if he has a rehab worker assigned to him?"

"I think Joseph Blackham was taking care of him?"

"Alright. Lay back down. We'll take care of this."

"Kyle," Esial whimpered as the man approached steadily. 

"Go with them, Esial," Kyle said, looking exhausted. "They won't hurt you."

Esial trembled as the man bent down, pulling him up by his good arm. 

He looked back at Kyle as the priests ran in again, covering the wound and preparing to move Kyle.

Part 7

Esial: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblue @hyrules-sleepiest-knight

From Dust to Ashes: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @currentlyinthespiral

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Nightmares (Magician's Bait, Part 3)

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 5: Scream / Captivity / "NO!"

Whumpril Day 2 (Sweat), Day 11 (Can't Sleep), Day 18 (Broken Glass)

WoW Whump Event Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

TW: captivity, chains, broken glass, monster, guns, death, knife, magic whump, nightmare, kidnapping mention, arguing

first part | <- previous part | next part ->

Context: It's been four years since Reese's life first went to shit. Although everything's settled down, she still has nightmares about the experience. An old friend and a bitchy magician visit her, seeking aid in the case of Damian's abduction.

-----

She was back in the cell.

The chains on her wrists, the bruises on her arms, the clear, tempered glass that allowed her captors to observe as her life force was stolen from her.

The cold, glass cell.

Reese’s voice bounced off the walls as she screamed for help. The vibrations shook her to the core, echoing from every direction, amplified and distorted. But she didn’t stop.

Not until the answering roar came from above.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

No.

Not the—

The monster barreled past her cell, claws scraping and gouging the floor in its haste for prey. Her.

Reese clamped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. The monster noticed her somehow, by sight or sound or scent, and charged.

The force of the first blow cracked the glass. Strong as it was, the cell was never meant to hold a creature like that. A werewolf? Werebear?

It didn’t matter what sort of creature it was. As it backed up for a second strike, Reese made herself as small as possible, raising her forearms to protect her face.

The glass shattered at the second blow. The tiny, sharp pieces slashed at the exposed skin of Reese's arms, and something warm and wet ran down her arms, dripping onto the floor. A stray shard sliced through the skin below her left eye.

The monster roared, an ear-splitting cry echoing throughout the entire manor.

And the answering gunshot was just as loud.

Crack! Crack-crack! Crack-crack!

It took five bullets before the creature finally fell. Reese stared at the beast in shock as her savior stepped over its corpse, gun in hand, the glass crunching under his feet. She scrambled back, broken glass digging into the palms of her hands.

“It’s okay,” the guard said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

A strange noise came from above. A sound simultaneously like a hiss and a yowl.

The guard unlocked Reese’s chains and pulled her to her feet. “The experiment has failed,” he said, “you need to get away now!”

“But—” Reese protested, “you—”

The guard led her around the monster's corpse and down the corridor, shrugging off his mottled jacket as he did so. He thrust the coat at her, and she numbly put it on. 

“I’ll be okay,” he said. The voice had changed, and his face became Draven’s. Then Octavian’s. “You need to stay safe.”

They reached the door. The one leading out of the manor and into the forest. “NO!” Reese shouted, pulling away from him. “No… don’t leave me alone!”

“But you’re not alone,” Octavian said softly. When had the gun become a knife? “You have—”

A sharp voice cut through the air, speaking a word Reese did not understand. A rune. Octavian froze mid-word, eyes wide, before crumpling to the ground. Reese screamed, falling to her knees beside him, trying to find a pulse.

“Oh, child,” someone said behind her, “you can’t save him.”

Reese stiffened. She knew that voice!

Kaira snatched her by the arm and yanked her away from Octavian, turning her around. The woman’s face was contorted in rage. “Let’s see if you’re immune to knives too,” she hissed, rune-inscribed dagger raised high.

Reese watched, helpless, as it plunged towards her heart and—

She snapped awake, chest heaving, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her skin was slick with sweat, and at some point, she'd kicked off her blankets. Curling up into a ball, Reese started to sob.

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

Barely an hour later, Reese was sitting at the dining table, wrapped in a blanket and sipping coffee, when a knock sounded from the door. She didn’t need to check a clock to know it was still early in the morning. The first hints of the sunrise had yet to leak over the horizon.

Grabbing her rune-inscribed knife from where she’d left it on the table, Reese silently crept to the door. She paused in front of it, listening.

“...you sure your contact can help us?” a woman’s voice.

“Yes.” The response was short, almost snappish, but recognizable enough.

Reese opened the door, keeping the dagger out of view. “This is early, even for you, Luc.”

Luc jumped, reaching for his akinaka blade before he realized what he was doing. He at least had the sense to look somewhat sheepish. “‘Morning, Reese. Sorry to wake you up.”

Reese eyed the person behind him. Her face was hidden beneath a gray cowl. “I wasn’t asleep. Who’s your friend?”

Luc glanced back at the woman. “She’s why we’re here at such an inconvenient hour. May we come in, please?”

Reese popped her head out the door and checked down the hallway. The lamps had burned low and wouldn’t be lit until after sunrise. Everyone else in the apartment complex was asleep, and the halls were deserted. She nodded and opened the door the rest of the way, leading them to the dining room.

“Coffee?” She motioned to the pot.

“Reese…” Luc’s tone was scolding, but she ignored it as she returned to her seat, setting her knife back on the table in full view of everyone. 

Thankfully, he let the matter drop, pulling out a chair for the woman before seating himself. “What I’m about to tell you is classified information and does not leave this room. Is that clear?”

Reese rolled her eyes. “You know who you’re talking to, right?”

“I need a better confirmation than that.”

“Yes. Understood. Point taken. Clear as glass.” She winced at the metaphor. Too soon.

Luc sighed. “Are you aware of the recent rumors pertaining to the prince?”

“You mean the ones claiming that he was sent to the north as ambassador to the elves? That he’s sick with the plague? Or that he abdicated the throne and the king just hasn’t announced it yet? Or—”

“Yes,” Luc interrupted before she could go on, “those. All those are speculating why the prince hasn’t made a public appearance in over a week. Well… I was just informed of the truth.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Prince Damian has been kidnapped.”

Reese blinked. “...okay…” she said slowly.

“Luc,” the woman said, speaking for the first time since she entered Reese’s home, “how is this child supposed to help us?”

“Caiya…” Luc warned softly as Reese’s hands curled into fists. “Don’t. She is exactly the right person to help. Probably the only person who can help.” 

He returned his attention to Reese. “We—Caiya, some detectives, and I—have determined that the abduction was… well… it was impossible unless the person who did it was a magician, or—”

“Or a Stalker,” Reese cut him off, thinking quickly. “One who Caiya can find, but is too much of a coward to fight.”

Caiya inhaled sharply, but Reese affixed her with a glare. “Save it. I might be young, but I’ve seen a lot of shit.” Her eyes flicked to Luc. “I’ll help, but only because I’m the only one who can, and only if I’m properly compensated.”

“Of course,” Luc agreed, a bit too eagerly. His chair scraped roughly against the floor as he stood. “I know it’s inconvenient, but could you return with us to my office? From there we can figure out our next move and you can speak with His Majesty yourself.”

“Excuse me, Luc,” Caiya interjected as Reese rose, “shouldn’t we let her parents know where she’s going?”

“My parents are visiting relatives across the ocean,” Reese snapped, “and they know I can handle myself.” She snatched her knife off the table and stalked out of the room to change. Responsibility or no responsibility, she was not going to get belittled by a self-righteous magician like Caiya Ebony. She’d faced far worse than the magician had imagined.

When Reese returned to the dining room, knife strapped to her thigh, a bag of essentials slung over her shoulder, and the familiar mottled jacket replacing the blanket, she arrived in the midst of an argument.

“Listen here,” Luc hissed, hands firmly planted on the table. “Magician or not, if you duel her, you will lose. Badly. She won that dagger, and she’d rather be cast into the depths than lose it. And if you challenge her to a duel, I will personally see to it that you face the prince’s captor by yourself. Are. We. Understood?”

“Did I miss something?” Reese asked softly.

Luc flinched and whirled around. His expression was neutral, but his cheeks were red from anger. “No,” he lied, shooting a glare at Caiya.

Reese’s eyes darted between Watcher and magician as she fought to keep the surge of pride from showing on her face. She made a mental note to thank Luc later when the magician wasn’t around. “Well… are we going then?”

“Yes,” Luc affirmed quickly. Too quickly. “Right now.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

[vimbry]

[antihibikase-archive]

[ "Who are you?" ] 

 [ "My name? It's..." ] 

 [ "..." ] 

 [ "...who am I?" ]

[gins-stim-emporium]

sunshine (project mary bell township) stimboard (with breaking stuff / outdoors stims) for @gmanwhore !

fawns / crowbar / sunset

shattered glass / ☀️🌙 / broken tv

moon & wolves / boiling worms / glowy mushroom

[krystaldeath]

Cotl Follower Oc:

I still haven’t played the game (likely won’t for a WHILE) but Uhh. Thank Sarah and the Safe Word’s song “Ruby Off The Rails” for inspiring this

* Black or red (still figuring out) Eagle??? Looked it up and it appears crows/ravens are not a possible follower form so. That or an Owl lol (know that if they WERE an option she’d be a corvid. Like the single album cover version for the song)

* Named Ruby, ofc

* She’s a teacher

* At once point Lamb offers a golden skull necklace to her and she accepts but asks them to wait cause she’s almost an elder and she wants to be as young as possible before she’s set to be immortal. They wait and she’s sacrificed when she’s older than almost immediately revived, now young (like. Early to mid 30’s). Now she takes the necklace

* Has established herself as an asset to the cult and trustworthy so the Lamb doesn’t feel the need to read her thoughts (big mistake)

* She’s secretly a dissenter but she’s smart and crafty with it. She’s been trying to revive an elder god of death (A Snakey Snake) whom she ACTUALLY worships instead of The Lamb

* If you listen to the song you’ll get the general gist of what she’s about

* Spoilers I guess for what happens: She does revive the elder god but they’re like “Actually I like this sheep I’m gonna be a regular old follower!”

* So then Ruby is allowed to stay but is obviously no longer trusted. Her sentence is she has to stick with the ex-god who she revived and learn to appreciate the cult and The Lamb. They’re semi-toxic yuri 💛

* Forgot to say Ruby goes by She/Her and the Snake Ex-God of Death (needs a name…) goes by They/She

[camping-with-monsters]

I’ll have an actual bio posted when I have a refined and official reference for this character, but this is Rouge Roundcarriage! She was a crew member in Captain Cinderella’s old crew back then— specifically her first mate! And uh… and also her wife.

Then there was what I like to call the “Red Ambush” (name could be subject to change) and uh.

May her soul rest easy. Cinderella misses her.

Edit but I figured I should mention that I got some big help from @pazam for the design and @pizzabits for giving an insanely good reason to the coloring when I showed the color swatches for this character guh :)

[13eyond13]

oh ok i see what they mean about abuse in these books now, something abusive actually happened besides creepy love bombing