shes-some-other-where - Tumblr blog

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom 2024 Masterlist

(in progress)

Contains: royalty whump, ladywhump, dudewhump, intimate whumper, possible nsfw *we'll see what happens*

Day 1, 2, & 7: “Help me.” | Nightmare

Day 3, 6, 13, 22: “Well, well, well…” | Hiding | Ambushed | Flinch | “Wait!” | Poison | Bedridden

Day 6, 13, 22: Broken Promise | Sacrifice | Poison | Bedridden

[shes-some-other-where]

What appeals to me about whump: an incomplete list

[shes-some-other-where]

“Just forget about me.”

Prompt: “Break a leg.”

Contains: angst

“What, pray tell, is the point?” she crossed her arms. “You’re hardly in fit condition to go wandering through the woods. I doubt you’ll even make it there. I doubt you’ll make it out of the orchard.”

He began to walk away, one hand trailing along the fence. “Thanks. For your help. I can’t stay any longer.”

“I’m not going to turn you in.”

He didn’t turn around.

“If you hurt yourself again, break a leg or arm or hit your head—”

“Just forget about me. You should never have helped me in the first place.”

“I’m quickly realizing that.”

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

<<< previous | next >>>

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[shes-some-other-where]

“Is that wise?”

Prompt: Practical

Contains: angst

“You’re leaving, then.”

He stood, panting, hands pressed into the weathered wood of the fence bordering the cottage. The cottage, he now saw, beneath which he’d been recuperating for nearly three days.

“Yes.” Anxious sweat dripped down his back. Why? He couldn’t have said.

She made no move to come closer, merely asking, “Is that wise? Practical?”

Wise? Wise didn’t matter. He couldn’t remain, couldn’t rely on borrowing kindness from what had to be a rapidly draining well.

“There’s no rush,” she said. “My brother’s gone for nearly a month. Hunting. For the winter.”

Gruffly, he said, “Not the point.”

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

<<< previous | next >>>

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[shes-some-other-where]

JuneofDoom Day 2 - “It didn’t have to be this way.”

@juneofdoom

Content: Violence, female whumpee, “Girl” being used as a name for female whumpee, threat of death, gun use, blood, psuedo bbu-like universe

“It didn’t have to be this way.”

“I know, I know!” She said on her knees, frantic. Blood trickled from her knees to the floor, mixed in with the grime. She pawed at their legs, grasping at their pants. “Please, please, just one more chance, I —”

“What makes you think you deserve any more chances?” They snarled, shoving her away.

Her body hit the floor and she let out a grunt, shaking as she tried to lift herself up. They put their foot on her face, pressing the heel of their boot into her cheek, grinding it into the broken tiles of the kitchen.

She had a perfect vantage point of the shards of glass on the floor.

“I… I don’t know, I just — I…” Her voice cracked.

If she could reach one of those shards…

“Girl. Look at me.”

She almost had it. It was right between the tips of her fingers, if she could just maneuver the shard into her palm —

They kicked her in the face.

Her vision split into facets of pain, stars dancing in her eyes. A stabbing ache in her mouth grew where a tooth used to be. Blood dribbled down her lip and she coughed, clutching her jaw.

She finally looked up at them.

Their eyes were cold.

“Stay still.”

Something in her psyche split apart. She’d been trying so hard, so hard to be a good girl, to be perfect, to be wanted —

She knew what “stay still” meant.

“Please, please, please. Please.” She pleaded, eyes wet with tears. Her body was tense, ready to run. Every muscle was wound so impossibly tight, and every ounce of her being was fighting the urge to bolt.

They reached for their gun.

“You’re a Disposable Girl. This is what you’re made for.”

“No, no —” She was trembling, full-body shudders, breathing hard, big fat tears falling down her face.

“You can’t — you can’t kill me yet. I’m still good. I’m still good.” Her breath shook.

“Not good enough.”

They aimed, and she stared down the barrel of the weapon.

Then she began to laugh. Terrified, hysterical laughter, strained and wheezing, mixed with sobs. Her entire body seemed to convulse with each breath.

Her owner’s hold on the gun wavered.

Then they regained their resolve, aiming again — yet a foreign expression crossed their face.

The shot rang out through the room, deafening.

…

It missed her.

She was still alive.

She stared up at them, breathing hard.

“Why?…” Her voice shook.

They scoffed. “You don’t need to know why.”

But she wanted to. Staring up with red-rimmed, pleading eyes, she silently begged them to tell her why they spared her.

They didn’t respond, they merely put their gun back in the holster and looked down on Girl.

“Now help me clean this up.”

She sagged, giving in.

“…Of course.”

[shes-some-other-where]

"I don't... deserve this kindness."

"I know. But I'm choosing to do this anyway."

[shes-some-other-where]

when whumpee has to be the caretaker for caretaker for a bit

for whatever reason

caretaker's sick, injured, whatever

whumpee has to, even if only for a little bit, manage their own issues alone and help caretaker with theirs

maybe they realise "god damn this is a lot of work, caretaker does this for me all the time?"

maybe they begin to feel like theyre a burden, and after caretaker gets better, they consider leaving so they wont burden caretaker anymore

maybe they do

maybe they get captured/recaptured

when theyre freed again, they realise that no, they werent a burden; caretaker is so happy to see them alive and well

caretaker doesnt care about the struggles of taking care of themself and whumpee at the same time because they love whumpee

theyre their best friend, partner, sibling, etc, and nothing can change how much they love whumpee, not even the constant, large amounts of effort they need to put in to help them

and this maybe leads to whumpee wanting to help caretaker, realizing “hey i actually like doing the laundry/making meals/etc for us” and help caretaker, and in doing so also help themself by regaining agency and feeling satisfaction from the relief caretaker feels having one less thing to worry about

[shes-some-other-where]

“You’re not scared of me?”

“Why would I be?”

[shes-some-other-where]

Reblog May

Okay, so, after some thought, I've decided to start a new thing:

Reblog May.

The challenge: reblog one piece of someone else's writing every day this month. The length doesn't matter, and you don't even have to add commentary if you don't have the spoons to do so. But the writing community needs more reblogs, and we can start with something simple, like Reblog May.

Who wants to join?

[shes-some-other-where]

ough i started thinking about the inherent tragedy of a spare heir

what if you and your sister had the same tutors, same arms instructor, same conversations with your mother regarding politics and strategies and the million terrible choices a ruler must make. but all of them, from your nursery governess to your fencing coach to your mother herself, knew that she was real and you-- weren't. not yet. only if the unthinkable happened. what if you were a walking reminder that she wasn't invincible. what if you were tragedy's page, carrying its train, walking soft in the shadow of all of their hopes that you would never be needed.

[shes-some-other-where]

Day 1: Failed Escape

Filling all @juneofdoom prompts with exactly 100 word drabbles!

Rusty hinges creaked, and pale daylight spilled through the opening trapdoor. He curled up with a sob. Freedom had been so close. If only he had been faster. 

Footsteps stomped down the stairs and crunched on the ground, a shadow falling over him.

“Interesting. I wonder…”

The voice trailed off, and they stepped onto his right hand. As the boot ground his hand into the dirt, the stolen key cut deeply into his flesh, soaking the earth with his blood. When the pressure faded, he whimpered, but before he could pull back his hand, they stomped down on his fingers.

[shes-some-other-where]

i love this character so much......i hope they get seriously injured and almost die

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 1, Day 2, Day 7

“Help me!” | Scream | Nightmare

Contains: royalty whump, lady whump, non-POV character death, murder, blood, sort of drug mention but fantasy context

WC: 360

The nightmares never ceased, even as the years passed. That night repeated itself like clockwork.

The grating heaves of her breath as she raced through the halls, listening to the carnage as it drew ever nearer.

The clang of weapons as blades hewed through bodies and slit the air until all she could smell was blood.

The shaking of her fingers as she locked the door and waited for death to come for her, too.

The words, clotted and silent at the back of her throat: Help me. Words she could not say, for if she did, they would find her, and if they found her, they would slaughter her, as they had her mother, the queen, and her father, the king. As they’d butchered her brother, a year younger yet centuries braver than she. His eyes had turned glassy, his throat slashed, his blood soaking into the cracks between the floorboards and staining his vestments—simple bedclothes, not armour, torn asunder in the attack launched by cowards and traitors.

Her brother had died with a command for her to flee on his lips, and she had.

In a room vainly barred and locked, she had stayed still, watching the door.

In life, she had clung to her elder brother’s hand—he unconscious, lost in the thrall of the drug that protected him from the horrors in his own mind but could not shield him from the horrors without. And she had waited, silent.

In the nightmare, the details were ragged as fraying satin—edges blurred, truths melting into gruesome fancy. Blood seeping below the door, soaking into her slippers. Ghostly visions of her murdered family haunting the window, the mirror, the sheen of every tear. She fought, wept, stirred her brother from his stupor, avenged her loss with courage and not cowardice. She screamed. Help me.

In the dream, she always screamed.

“Help me!”

In neither life nor nightmare did her plea change the outcome: a door bursting open, splinters littering the floor like minatory flakes of snow. Flashing steel stained with blood. The thick tang of death flooding into the room.

And a voice.

“Well. What do we have here?”

@juneofdoom

June of Doom Masterlist

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[shes-some-other-where]

does anyone know of anyone with open whump art commissions?

[shes-some-other-where]

Whumpee taken captive by Whumper. As they tortured Whumpee, Whumper poisoned them. The slow effects of the poison began to take its toll on Whumpee.

"This will give your friends some motivation to come save you faster," Whumper laughed, "if they don't come and rescue you in time... well, you know how poison works."

[shes-some-other-where]

Her foolhardy selflessness

Prompt: Cellar

Contains: angst, guilt

At first, he didn’t remember where he was. Once the cellar registered in his consciousness, he still took several moments to recall how he’d gotten there, too many breathless, heart-pounding seconds of bewilderment and fear.

Then it struck.

A woman, lonely and gentle and too kind for her own good. Pregnant. A stranger. Risking her own neck to help him.

Why? he wished he could ask her, but he was afraid to learn her answer.

It mattered little, anyhow. He couldn’t stay, couldn’t impale himself on her foolhardy selflessness any longer than necessary.

Once he healed, he had to go.

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

<<< previous | next >>>

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 1

"Help me." / Failed Escape / On the run / Fetal position

Prompts List | Masterpost

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 330

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf

TW: running, caught in a net, attempted escape, captivity

Whumpee sprinted blindly through the thicket, hands uselessly trying to protect their face from the branches that whipped and stung at their skin. Dead pine needles crunched underfoot, the sky rumbled with thunder, the clouds dark and threatening with rain. The wind worked against them, pushing them back and making every step twice as hard, howling its fury in their ears.

Tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump.

Whumpee’s heartbeat hammered in their head. They had to get away, had to escape, had to run as far as they possibly could before Whumper—

Twang!

Whumpee screamed as ropes appeared from underneath the bed of pine needles, tangling and trapping them. The forest blurred around them as the trap yanked them into the air, the net wrapping them in a tight embrace as it dangled from a high branch.

Tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump—

They squirmed, trying to crawl free, but the ropes bound their arms to their chest, greatly restricting their movement. “Help!” They shouted desperately, the wind snatching away the words, “Help me!”

Tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump—

“Please… someone please… help me….”

“Well, since you asked so politely!”

Whumpee flinched as Whumper suddenly popped out from behind a tree. “I have to say,” Whumper continued, “I’m impressed. You got further than most!”

“I… what are you talking about?”

Whumper sauntered over, clearly enjoying Whumpee’s helplessness. “My test, of course. Seeing how desperately you wanted to leave. You only had about…” They glanced in the direction Whumpee had been running, “a couple dozen feet left to go?”

They smirked as Whumpee slumped in their bonds, the disappointment, loathing, fear, and frustration that coursed through them no doubt on their face. “Oh, don’t feel too bad about yourself!” Whumper teased, grasping the ropes, “You may have gotten close, but no one has ever escaped my grasp.” The look on their face made Whumpee’s skin crawl. “No one.”

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Whumper smiled brightly, a harsh contrast to their ominous words and the encroaching storm. “Now! Let’s get you home, shall we?”