#I’m obsessed with becoming the mask in whump

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

Ok but— feigned compliance turning into real obedience

[galaxythreads]

Suggestions on how to improve fanfic writing prt 2 of ? -- MENTAL TRAUMA --

Part one of suggestions: 

//MY UNPROFESSIONAL OPINION!!! Based off of my experience and others. \\ :

Okay, *pops knuckles* this is something that gets written A LOT because who doesn’t love whump? Nothing more satisfying then beating down a character and emotionally scarring them worse than canon did. :) 

Here are my top 6 (unprofessional) suggestions:

-1- 97% people do not like to talk about trauma. What does this mean for writing? Stop having them open up with one prodding. A simple “are you okay?” is not going to have them sit down and go “no, here’s why, when I was a child, x happened and it’s affected my y.” No one actually talks like that in real life, okay?A few things that happen instead:

Lying. 

Revealing half truths

Revealing one (1) piece of information that is utterly horrifying then laughing about it and going “y’know, I mean that kinda sucked!” 

Humor masking EVERYTHING. If it’s not funny, you can’t talk about it, right? 

More lying. 

Revealing less traumatic things to gauge the waters, then circling around what’s really bothering them until they can finally reveal this. 

More than one conversation about the trauma

Succinct. most often, just details. 

Aversion to touch. You poke them and they’ll bite you. 

Body language is very important! Make sure to show they are uncomfortable. Even the best poker faced among us have tells. 

-2- PTSD dreams are very often not a detailed replaying of what happened. It’s one event played over and over again, but the scenario changes. For example, say you’re running for your life in the dream, but what you’re running from changes in the dream. Dreams should not be your only source of revealing information. You want to break PTSD dream tropes? Do them realistically. Honestly ask yourself when the last time you remembered 100% of the details of your dreams was. 

More suggestions on PTSD dreams:

Sure, 66% of humans will talk in their sleep, but not...not full sentences commonly. Not anything that you could really, like, understand. Just bits of mumbled information and a scattered word here and there. Again, dreams should not be your only source of information. 

Insomnia is awful. Your character is avoiding sleep to avoid dreams? I laugh with doubt if they are fully functioning. Speaking from insomniac experience, after hour 24-ish your eyes start to burn. Your limbs feel exhausted and you want to cure cancer or commit mass murder depending on the day. After hour 30, you think that you’ll never sleep again. You become aware of your heartbeat. Sometimes there are chest pains, etc. 

Waking up gasping -- great. Waking up curled into a ball and crying: better. Waking up completely and utterly still and not daring to breathe or bring attention to yourself because you’re convinced something is going to get you? !!! 

-3- Ugly coping mechanisms 

Character is traumatized? They’re going to turn to some not so great coping mechanisms. Whether this be alcohol, drugs, self-harm, eating disorders, etc. This is very often NOT a conscious decision to give themselves up to. They just. Do. Anything to make the pain stop, right? 

-4- Wounds

If your character is injured, please take that seriously. You know how long it takes to recover from a gun shot wound? Longer than you’re probably thinking. Weeks. (And it depends on where it was). Do you know what a terrible idea it is to take medicine and alcoholic beverages at the same time? (SO, so, so, much. Do not. DO NOT.) 

If they were injured and have a scar from it, they’re going to be kind of obsessive with it. Wanting other people to see so they’ll acknowledge what happened, but hiding it because they don’t want to talk about it. It’s a tug-of-war. 

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TRAUMA:

Something not discussed that much. [But this doesn’t, just so you know, mean you shouldn’t talk to people in real life, they still very much want you to keep talking. I promise. If they’re listening, they care. If they don’t, they suck.] 

-5- Pay attention to these for those who are listening to trauma:

Body language. Do they get closer, back off? Do they attempt to offer comfort by touch, or close proximity? Are they horrified and put some sort of barrier between themselves and the Traumatized character? This could be a chair, a countertop, etc. It’s a way of mentally shielding yourself from what’s going on. This should be subtle if it’s from their POV, the speaking character is going to pay lots of attention to this, though. 

Facial expressions. Are they neutral? Are they lighting up like fireworks?

Emotions. Is there disgust? Relief? Joy? Anger? Tears?

Common thought while listening to trauma: “Oh my gosh, stop TALKING!” 

Another common thought “I have no idea what to do. Keep them talking, they have to get this out.” 

More common thoughts: “I’m making this worse.” “I need to keep them talking, if they stop I don’t know when they’ll start again.” “This is awful, I want to leave.” “Please stop talking.” “I have no idea what to do.” “Are they crying? I should get them something for tears, but I can’t move.” etc. 

^^Not pretty, but they’re not supposed to be. Look, it’s not that Listening Character doesn’t care, it’s just...sometimes it’s A Lot and we are only human. They’re 100% there, but it’s just...man, sometimes it’s a lot. 

Bodily reactions. Anxiety? Chest pain, cramping fingers, etc. Panic? Chest pain, lungs feeling like they’re too tight. Allow them to be human, too. This often sucks on both ends. 

-6- Dread 

Look. I’m not going to pretend that this isn’t a thing. But when someone starts talking about very traumatic things, as most of us are not therapists, if the ONLY thing you talk about together is trauma, then you often feel a sense of dread at the thought of seeing or speaking with them. No one really likes being an emotional crutch day in day out forever. So. This happens. It’s a dark part of realty. But in all honesty, I...don’t think I’ve ever honestly seen this potrayed...anywhere. 

(And irl, to avoid this, just, like, DO things with the people you talk to that AREN’T just discussing trauma if they aren’t your therapist. Make sure you have still have a two-sided relationship. <3)  

[cherryafton]

Together forever (oc!Bell/Stitch)

Fandom: Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War 

Warnings: Blood, torture, starving, violence, mild gore, whump, angst, spoilers.

Summary: Bell survived hell caused by Adler only to be trapped by the devil himself, Stitch. Give her a break.

This fic takes place after the events of the game. Let’s say, Bell survives to the shot and because she’s related to Perseus, he sends people to search for her body only to realize she’s alive. Of course, she needs to be penalized for her betrayal.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28562193/chapters/69996273

Word count: 1005

A/N: Big thanks to @yunatheintrovert for getting me into my new obsession, giving me a lot of feedback and just helping me out to improve. I appreciate everything they’ve done for me. They’re an amazing writer. Please check out their blog. :-)

I’m using my oc Viktoria. If you want to know more about her, check out her tag (oc: viktoria norin bell)

Also, I have a playlist inspired by this fic (it’s still in progress so I don’t have a lot of songs there, if you have any song suggestions, I’d love to know them). You can listen to it here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/58pSSmNvqKXpBD7fX4KxAn?si=wnFXRCLXTpSgeOvP4A63PA

Anyway, I hope you like it!

Chapter 1: Rebirth

A painful blow woke Viktoria up, “Wake up, подонок” a voice buzzed through her ears.

Stunned, she looked in the direction where the blow came from. She hazily noticed a large figure standing beside her as he pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. 

When her vision completely cleared, the figure was a masked man with a distinctive scar on his left eye. 

He grasped her chin and eyed her with hatred “Perseus has been looking for you everywhere and it was to expect, you’re related. Unfortunately for you, you’re a survivor which means you have to pay for what you did,”

“You are a traitor and I will treat you like one, being Perseus’s granddaughter won’t save you” he continued as he finally let go of her face.He stood up, gaze never leaving her.

“Bell, we’ve got a job to do” was the last thing she heard.

‘No, not again, please’ she thought as she was standing in a corridor and saw that damn red door again. She tried to focus herself on something else, but her attempts were useless. Viktoria didn’t have a choice but to walk towards the door.

She took a deep breath and opened it, which took her back to the Safehouse, like it used to be.

“Welcome back, Bell’’ Park greeted with a smile as she walked past beside her. She looked around and everyone was there, even Lazar, but something felt off.

Adler was missing.

Typically, he would’ve been sitting in front of the evidence board while smoking a cigarette or in the office doing paperwork. She looked out everywhere for him until she went into the red room, decorated with all the pictures she’d taken on the missions.

Suddenly, the tv at the end of the room turned on. She peeked out of the room. The Safehouse had become empty with no one being around anymore. She walked towards the tv in confusion until she noticed it was playing footage of war, the same she's always seen.

She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was in that jungle, living those fake memories again until she arrived at the door and came back to the corridor.

This time, she saw Adler entering through the door, “Adler, wait!” she shouted as she ran towards the door and when she opened it, he went gone, just an empty dark room.

“Don’t leave me, not again, please” she said, crying out. She laid down on the floor and curled up, realizing she got herself into something worse.

Vika gained conscience when she received a hit, this time, to the temple.

“Come back to earth, сука” a soldier scowled, she looked up at him.

“Fuck off” she said blankly, earning other punch on the nose, it started bleeding and now, he didn’t stop beating her up. After some minutes that felt like an eternity, someone gestured to him to cease. They turned off the lights and left the room, leaving her in the darkness, her entire body throbbing. She spent her days like that, lights off, no food and an insignificant amount of water. 

What they were doing to her was barbarous, humiliating.

One day, they gave her a decent meal and the soldier that brought her the food had the lowest ranks because of his uniform. The way he tried to act tough but failed. He untied her to the chair she was in to allow her to eat.

“No funny business or you’re done, got it?” he scolded as he drew his gun, Vika just nodded and stood up to stretch her legs. After a while, she sat and started eating as if there was no tomorrow.

She savored the sensation of having something in her stomach. When she finished, she stood up again, knowing this weirdly kind gesture happened once in a lifetime.

She didn’t even dare to escape, it’s not that she enjoyed being there, but she was weak and couldn’t stand a chance to escape. She definitely didn’t want to test her luck. 

The soldier signaled her to sit and tied her again to the chair. He turned off the lights. Before leaving, he simply said, “You’re lucky Stitch is compassionate with you, you know?” with that, he left. 

His statement stuck in her mind and she kept thinking about it frequently.

‘Why? He said he wouldn’t treat me differently just because gramps is his chief, he must need something from me, that’s for sure’ there’s just one way to find out.

Stitch came back. He had that look in his eyes, determination; she recognized that look pretty well, she’s seen it before, she had it before. Then she saw a combat knife in his hand. 

That wasn’t good.

Stitch walked towards Vika. He lowered himself to be at her height and removed his gas mask.

“Oh Bell, у тебя была работа” he sighed and bit her earlobe, suddenly he turned to give her a small peck on her neck. 

She froze there, not knowing what to do (not that she could) but it turned into her least preoccupation when she felt an unbearable pain in her abdomen.

‘That son of a bitch’ she thought as she looked down to see her clothes full of blood, he pulled her hair, Viktoria closed her eyes, earning her a slap on the cheek.

“Look at me,” Stitch commanded. She complied, hoping he’d stop and stared at him, eyes watering from the pain inflicted.

“будь ты проклят” Viktoria’s tone lowered to the point that it was almost like a murmur. He took out the blade, which gained a groan from her as she tried to move away. 

He didn’t stop, bruise after bruise, stab after stab, her arms, her torso, her legs.

She was all bloodied, her vision blurred, her head was spinning and finally, he stopped.

‘This is the end, this is finally it’ she thought, numbly laying there. It was only a matter of time before she passed out from the injuries.

Here's the meaning of the words I used for this fic:

подонок: bastard

сука: bitch

у тебя была работа: you had a job to do

будь ты проклят: damn you

[mrslittletall]

If you accept vague asks for the whump thing, because I don't want to limit you to a character you might find boring, either 6 or 17 for Hollow Knight?

Title: Reflection Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: Quirrel, Little Ghost Word Count: 1.431 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30279333

Summary: Quirrel reflects on his life during his last moments.

(Author's note: 

6: Fever 17: Drowning/Hypothermia

Anon! How can you give me Drowning for Hollow Knight and expect me to NOT make it about Quirrel?! Or were you betting on it?

I chose one of the two this time, because the two prompts didn't feel like they could be mashed together very well. Warnings: Suicide and Major Character Death. And drowning, obviously.)

Quirrel had sat and looked at the lake for some time when the little white wanderer appeared. He had encountered them various time in Hallownest, even aided them in their quest which led to him recovering part of his lost memories, and never had they said a single word to him and their face had stayed a stiff mask.

Still, Quirrel couldn't help but feel comfortable in their presence. He assumed for them to maybe stop shortly and listen to him, before moving on, but they did something different.

They approached him, stopped, looked up at him and then sat down next to him, their gaze facing the same direction as his, towards the Blue Lake.

Quirrel didn't look at them and instead, started to speak.

“Again we meet my short friend. Here at last, I feel at peace.”

He made a short pause, thinking about his next words before continuing. After all that had happened, his words didn't seem to come too easily to him anymore. Even his voice felt strained... aged even. All the years that got lost might have caught up to him.

“Twice I've seen this world and though my service may have stripped the first experience from me, I'm thankful I could witness its beauty again.”

It must have been beautiful the first time, and even though large parts of the kingdom laid in ruins during his second time, it was still beautiful. Though, there was one thing that was even more interesting than Hallownest.

“Hallownest is a vast and wondrous thing, but in as many wonders as it holds, I've seen none quite so intriguing as you.”

As usual, the little white wanderer didn't say a word. A little chuckle escaped Quirrel and he spoke further.

“Ha. My flattery returns only silent stoicism. I like that. I like that very much.”

The both of them stayed there, staring at the lake a while longer. Eventually, the little wanderer stood up and continued walking, not looking back at him or saying a single word. It had always been like that with them. It was just they way they acted. Them sitting with him showed him more than enough that they cared. If they hadn't cared, they would have just ignored him. They would have run past him every single time he encountered them, but they always, always had stopped and listened to him.

Quirrel waited until they were out of sight and he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore. Once their footsteps ceased, he rose and picked up his nail.

“I can barely remember having trained in the art of the nail, but I never forgot how to fight.”, he murmured to himself, rolling the nail around in his hands. It had aided him during his journey through Hallownest as well as helped to reach the teacher, Monomon, who he had always called Madam.

For some reason, she seemed to have been always displeased with it, but Quirrel couldn't recall anymore why. His memory was still hazy. The results of the fog of the wastelands, that wiped his memory clean. He could consider himself lucky that he remembered his connection to Monomon.

“I won't need to fight anymore...”, Quirrel murmured further and stuck his nail into the ground, the way the hilt faced, it looked a little like a cross. Then, he looked back at the direction the little wanderer had run off too.

“My friend, please don't cry for me.”, he said, a sad smile ghosting his face. “For I have lived twice the amount of time any bug should have ever lived and I am ready to move on.”

Quirrel stayed on the edge of the lake for a few seconds longer before turning around and walking into the water. It was shallow at first, but soon it would engulf him fully. He was fully aware that his species didn't possess the art of swimming.

Quirrel continued walking until his feet lost the ground under him and he could feel how his body started to sink. While he was content about his own death, with his mind at peace, his body still possessed some instinct. He could feel his arms and legs trash as the water filled his lungs and his strong desire to take a gulp of air, which never happened, because he knew that only water would await him.

His trashing was only from a short duration however, as he felt himself get dizzy and slowly sinking down to the ground, waiting for his awareness to end.

It was then when he saw something flash in front of his inner eye.

Himself, as a little grub, lost, alone, hungry, cold, his parents were nowhere to be seen, only a blanket in his little arms, crying in his desperation, for his parents, for anyone, to find him...

And the form of Monomon in front of him, floating through the fog, a tentacle touching her mask in shock when she saw him, picking him up, talking to him, bringing him to the archives, where she gave him food and warmth and comfort.

That has been how they had first met. How cruel of his memory to make him remember right when he was in the process of ending his own life. Still, Quirrel couldn't help but feel a deep fondness at this memory.

He still hadn't reached the ground and the more he sank down, the more memories surfaced.

Monomon teaching him how to write and read.

Monomon comforting him after he had a nightmare.

Him asking if he could work as her assistant, at the mere age of six. Monomon had agreed and gave him simple tasks, to make him feel special.

Him checking on Monomon after she had pulled an all-nighter. The both of them sharing breakfast together.

Monomon finding the cheesy romance novels he had bought from his salary and teasing him to no end about them. Still, sometimes he found the newest book of his favourite author gently laid upon his pillow.

A time in which he had been obsessed with the tale of the Grimm troupe and styled his mask and even the scarf he wore around his head in their image. Monomon loved to tell this story to complete strangers. How often had he stood there and begged her to stop. Not that it ever worked...

Him waking up with a blanket draped over him when he had fallen asleep over his work.

Monomon always having a pot of coffee ready for both of them when both of them had worked the whole night.

Her giving him the additional seal of protection, her mask, and sending him away once she would lay down to sleep for eternity. Quirrel had accepted, of course, without hesitation, he would do everything for the one who had saved him from starvation when he had been a grub.

“I will fulfil your order as long as I breathe, Ma'am.”, he had said, and Monomon had looked at him and said: “I know you will.”, but at the same time, she had looked so sad.

Finally having reached the ground, Quirrel barely had any awareness left in him anymore, but one last thing went to his mind.

She has always treated me like her son.

For her, he had been more than her assistant, for her, Quirrel had been her precious and beloved son. It didn't matter for her that they didn't share any blood connection, he had become her son once she had picked him up in the canyon.

I never once have called her mom...

How ironic it felt, this thought, right when he was about to snuff out the last flames of his life, after Monomon had already died, after he didn't have a chance to talk to her anymore.

This thought was his one and only regret as his awareness faded and his body stopped moving, laying still on the ground of the Blue Lake.

He entered the archives, passing all the acid tablets and ignoring the Uoma's that Monomon would let hang around there. He had gone this way so many times and he didn't even have to think where to go. He entered Monomon's workshop and there she was, interrupting what she was doing, turning around, a tentacle going to her mask and her body shaking as she chuckled.

“Welcome home, Quirrel.”, she said.

Quirrel came closer until he stood in front of Monomon. “I am back Ma...”, he interrupted himself and then corrected his sentence: “I'm back, mom.” (Author's note: Absolutely love the headcanon that Monomon adopted Quirrel. Also I am a big fan of characters meeting in the afterlife after death and just... vibing with what they always wanted, maybe moving on together. It's pretty obvious, but I am absolutely convinced that Quirrel died at the Blue Lake. I am super fine with everyone lives AUs, but in canon I think Quirrel drowned himself in the lake, because he had grown old and weary and was ready to end his own life, because he felt there wasn't any reason for him to be around anymore. That is why he is so content with his own death here. Obviously, I would have loved for Quirrel to stay alive and find so much more wonders in the world, but he felt like he hadn't any regrets. The one I added, well, that was my headcanon. I know this is a heavy topic and please don't feel bad if you have trouble handling it or couldn't handle it and please, when you yourself think that you might be better off dead, get some help. I promise, there is so much in this world that it's worth to live for. As always, comments are greatly appreciated.)

[esepoimipullula]

by the way, on a second thought...

Marco Nucci, probably: hey can I put something a little bit fucked up in my Mickey mysteries?

Alex Bertani, probably: well, why not, they’re mystery stories, after all. what were you thinking?

Nucci: well, there’s this new villain who’s all polite and charming with this smooth, soothing voice but, like, to a basically hypnotic effect? he can make everyone do everything by just asking nicely...

Bertani: well, that’s interesting but not THAT fucked up...

N: ... and then there’s this OTHER new villain who manipulates and blackmails and can fuck up your very subconcious almost without trying not because he’s got magic powers or anything but because he knows people and how they behave THAT well and he’s REALLY good with the power of suggestion and it doesn’t matter if he’s feeding you lies or truths or half-truths or fake news because anyway he’ll use ALL OF THEM to screw you over and make you do his bidding whether you want to or not, and he’s got this whole creepy doll/ventriloquism motif because he uses everyone as a puppet including those poor sods he persuades or blackmails/terrorizes into becoming his accomplices while never showing his own hand, and he hides his identity behind this creepy faceless mask with a spiral on it which ties back into how he becomes Mouseton’s living faceless nameless nightmare and obsession, and also Mickey’s rather unhealthy obsession, too, especially after that time he tries to frame him, oh and his name is actually a Hitchcock reference so that’s the whole atmosphere of his stories, and did I mention he’s in cahoots with businessmen and politicians and journalists and uses authorities (or at least people who can convincingly look and act like authorities) to further his plans so it’s like Mouseton itself isn’t actually a safe place at all and is really full of dark secrets, and then even after he’s apparently defeated, he won’t talk about his motives and it’s clearly that’s still SOMETHING going on behind the scenes so there’s this whole eerie sense of foreboding and...

B: okay, okay, GEEZ! that sound actually pretty awesome, tho. go ahead

N: great! 

N: can I put some fucked up stuff in the new Newton stories, too?

B: ...

N: like, because he’s an ambitious and brilliant but reckless science boy? so he can kind of be a kid mad scientist? that whole atmosphere would just go well with that characterization, you know?

B: ...

N: ... or maybe a kid-friendly kid mad scientist? with fucked up stuff that’s only a tiiiiny little bit fucked up? or looks like it’s gonna be fucked up but really isn’t?

B: ... please keep it down and put that stuff only in a couple of stories every once in a while

N: YAY!!

B: okay, then, that’s settled. anything else?

N: oh, yeah, can I put fucked up things in the new Gladstone story, too?

B: wait. isn’t giving Gladstone a mental breakdown due to his relatives’ callous remarks about him and having him self-isolate in the countryside because he thinks the whole world hates his guts already kind of fucked up...? like, he’s honestly genuinely SCARED of meeting new people...?

N: mh, well, I guess it might be, but I was thinking more along the lines of...

B: yeah? what?

N, speaking with the garbled inhuman voicse of a thousand blood-thirsty, angst-hungry demons from whump hell: WHAT IF HIM TAKING A BREAK AWAY FROM EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE HE KNOWS TO TRY AND FIND HIMSELF WHILE LEARNING TO LOVE LIFE AGAIN IS POSSIBLY THE REASON WHY DUCKBURG IS BEING C O N S T A N T L Y  D E V A S T A T E D  B Y  T E R R I B L E  S T O R M S SO HIM IMPROVING HIS MENTAL HEALTH MIGHT ACTUALLY BE A C T I V E L Y  H A R M I N G  E V E R Y O N E  E L S E???

B: ...

N: ...

B: ...

N: like, would THAT be fucked up, or what?

B: ...

B: ... I’m so, SO glad to have you in the writing staff

[whump-my-dear-watson]

Whumptober day no.8, 9 +10:

Stab wound + shackled + unconscious

Character: Henry Mills (Andrew J. West)

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (season 7)

Word Count: 1,700

Summary: Henry Mills is abducted and tortured for information on his step-mom, the only problem is, he's still under the curse.

Authors note: this is heavily inspired by 7x17,, where I fell in love with Henry whump, I tried to stay away from seasonal plotlines and everything, but eh you know

The first thing Henry noticed was his immobility. Not a fun thing to wake up and be unable to move. As his eyes focused he began to realize just how much trouble he was in. The room was dark but he observed a window on the other side of the room, must mean it was night. Or early morning. A sharp pain shot through his head, he instinctively placed a hand to it. It was wet, pulling his hand in front of his face, it dripped of blood. That explains the pain. 

Henry braced himself against a wall attempting to stand up in the dimly lit half-finished basement. 

From what he could tell it was a basement, the little to no furnishing gave off an eerie feeling, especially the chains he observed on the ground. 

His heart in his head he traced the line of the chains in the ground to his feet.

How hadn’t he noticed them at first? Now it was all he could feel. The cold thickness of the metal pressing down on him. 

He was a nobody. A has-been writer obsessed with everything he can't have, why would anyone want him?

As if to answer his questions the stairs began to creak, one dress shoe at a time a lean man made his way towards him. 

He racked his brain trying to place him, maybe it was the lighting, the headache or something else entirely, but he didn't recognize his captor at all. 

“Look who's awake. If not for your history of never giving up, I might have worried you would stay in your feeble state.” He took a step closer and smiled at Henry. It was unnerving, but not necessarily sadistic. “You still look a little feeble to be quite frank with you.”

“Who are you?” Henry spit.

“Don't be coy with me Mr. Mills. I know you remember.”

Henry shuddered into himself, the man was insane. He didn’t know what he wanted, only flashes of Jacinda and Lucy were on his brain. Why hadn’t he just ran with it? Why didn’t he put himself out there sooner? Now maybe he would never get the chance. 

“The problem is, I’m having a little trouble remembering.” the man said, his words twisting in and out of the realm of reality. “I remember a woman. From a, a past life, one might say. She was your mother. Problem is, I can only remember bits and pieces, the fog and all that.”

“So what do you want with me?” 

“I need you to tell me who your mother is, in this reality. Or, something, rather unpleasant might become of you.” at this, the man revealed a set of, particularly sharp knives. Although Henry figured it was better than dull knives. 

“Please. Give me the keys. Let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone just-” 

The man's hand flew faster than should've been humanly possible, the surprise hurt worse than the pain from the hit. Henry was knocked off balance, and pulled against his chains until he was as far away as it would let him. 

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me the true identity of the once evil queen.”

“Evil Queen? You’ve-you’ve read my book? Is that what this is about?” Henry asked, his head spinning. 

“You’re innocent and unknowing act won’t work on me. But I’ll give you a minute to think about what you should say next,” he then took one of the biggest knives from his collection and flipped it around in his hands. 

“No. no, no, no, no” Henry pulled away but was locked in place by his restraints. The man lunged at him, turning the knife in his hand so the hilt hit Henry in the back of the head, the blackness consumed his vision as his knees buckled. 

***

When Henry stirred from his unconscious state the first thing he noticed was that it was day now. The half windowsill on the far wall let a strip of light into the room. Henry groaned as he tried to sit up, the rapid motion inflicted immediate nausea. Concussion? Probably. His brain was too foggy to think straight to try too deliberate any further. At least it seemed like he was alone, but something was different this time. 

Henry figured he definitely had a concussion when he realized the thing he was missing, he was sitting atop a metal folding chair, his hands bound behind him. 

His chest rose and fell as he began to breathe deeper, trying too control his rampaging emotions. Henry blinked his eyes repeatedly to try to focus. To try to find out how to getaway. That was when he noticed the man, sitting in the corner. Observing him. 

“What-what do you want,”

The man took his time approaching him as if savoring the fear that strikes into Henry every time he took a step closer. 

“I’m growing rather tired of that question. How about we try another method?”

With his unusual quickness, he lunged at Henry, this time the blade of the knife going straight into his side. 

Henry yelped, unable to contain his loud display of pain.

Blood dripped from the stab wound, and the sight of it made him lightheaded. 

With one swift motion, the man pulled the knife out, effectively ripping out another scream from Henry. 

“Now, did that give you some motivation? Or do we need to continue.”

“Please, I’ll tell you whatever you need to hear,” he panted.

“Good.”

The sound of a distant ring interrupted them. The doorbell. Henry couldn’t push down his rising hope that it was his rescue. 

“Excuse me, I’ll just be a minute.” 

Henry’s heart pounded as he was sure that his rescue was imminent. It immediately sank to his feet as the man returned down the stairs, no one behind him. No one was coming. His naivety had led to his devastation, of course, no one was coming. 

“Sorry about that,” the man said reaching the bottom stair. “It was just my package, finally arriving.”

Henry’s forehead dripped with blood, he looked up to meet the man's eyes. Hoping that he would find empathy in his heart too let him go. 

The man just gave another emotionless smile. “Where did we leave off?” 

***

Jacinda tapped her foot restlessly as she waited in the lobby of the police station. She checked her phone again, She would have to pick up Lucy from school soon. 

“Jacinda, what can I do for you?” Detective Rodgers asked approaching her in her seat. 

“I’m really worried about Henry. I haven't heard from him in days. He won't answer his texts. No one’s seen him,”

“I’m sure he’s fine. But I’ll look into it, for you. Where did you see him last?” 

Jacinda furrowed her brows, “I don’t know, Ronnie’s I think. Rodgers, something's really wrong. I can feel it.”

“Don't worry. I’ll put some guy’s on it right away, and tonight’s my night off, so I can devote some time. If Henry’s in trouble, we’ll find him. I’ll keep you posted,” he patted her shoulder offering his support. 

And Rodgers did try, he looked over Henry's place, talked to some people, and he was beginning too think Jacinda was right. Something was wrong. 

***

“I should've had believed this was going to be easy. I mean, you're Henry Mills after all. But I did think my, persuasion techniques, would have worked by now,” the man said standing over a slouched Henry. 

Everything hurt. He had a very real feeling that he was bleeding out, and worse of all he didn't even know why. Why was he chosen to be in this sick man's game? 

“Please,” he begged, his pride having left him ages ago. 

“No. I think I'll break you. But none of these methods seems to be working.”

He stroked his chin with a thoughtful gaze, Henry wondered if he was just trying to be intimidating. He couldn’t say it wasn't working. 

“I would say this is a bright idea, but, all my ideas are bright. We are going to make a phone call.” 

He practically threw his phone at Henry, he has no idea why. Did he want him to be released? Was he really just insane? 

“Call for help. Honestly, even if you were to be retrieved, I'll still get my answer. I'm sure your mother wouldn't let her son sit in the hospital alone. But who knows if you'll get that far,” 

He made sure to plant himself in front of the staircase as he watched Henry’s shaking fingers dial the phone.

Henry knew that there had to be a trick, there had to be some ulterior motive, but he wasn't going to risk not taking a chance. 

The phone was ringing too long. Would she even pick up? 

“Hello, this is Jacinda. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message.” 

A tear slipped down Henry's face as he heard the answering machine. He gulped and tried to relay something meaningful. 

“Hey, it's me, Henry. I'm really sorry how this all turned out-” he was interrupted by a coupling fit. “I've been taken by a man, whatever you do, stay away from him. Stay safe. Jacinda, I lo-” this time it was the man who interrupted him, pushing him and his hair onto the ground. Henry's body shook with pain and he tried to pick up the phone again with his bloody hands, but it wasn't working.

“Time's up. I think they got the idea. Now, if the lady luck will have me, your mother will come straight to us. I owe it all to you, Mr. Mills.”

“I won't tell anyone that it was you, I'll say you wore a mask, you won't get in trouble, just, please..let me go,” Henry pleaded. 

“Now why would I do that when we're just getting started?”

(TO BE CONTINUED)

[barb-aricyawp]

8 people I’d like to know better

I was tagged by @igothroughphasesalot

ONE / name / alias. Barb

TWO / birthday. Jul 9

THREE / zodiac sign. Cancer

FOUR / height. 5′9″ - I know, I know

FIVE / hobbies. hiking, writing, eating

SIX / favourite colors. green

SEVEN / favourite books. 1. IT by stephen king, 2. paradise lost by john milton, 3. fun home by alison bechdel, 4. the book thief by marcus zusak,  5. everything i never told you by celeste ng, 6. the red dragon by thomas harris, 7. call me by your name by andre aciman, 8. i’ll be gone in the dark by michelle mcnamara, 9. the center cannot hold by dr. elyn r. saks, and 10. crush by richard siken

EIGHT / last song listened to. savior by st. vincent

NINE / last film watched. mysterious skins dir. gregg araki

TEN / inspiration for muse. I don’t sleep well, and most nights I lie awake trying to tell myself a story that helps me fall asleep. sometimes that’s sweeping romances. recently, it’s been horrific torture. 

ELEVEN / dream job. trophy wife for my fabulously rich spouse, who adores me and spoils me with their wealth, but has recently been more distant. they have become obsessed with justice and martial arts. sometimes they come home with injuries that they can’t explain. unrelated, a masked vigilante has been protecting our crime ridden city. due to my spouse’s neglect, I develop an interest in investigative journalism that leads me to follow this elusive crusader. we have witty banter and they frequently save me from harm, but I’m devoted to my journalism.

TWELVE / meaning behind your url. I go hard for Walt Whitman

@glitter-cake20, @omgbubblesomg, @i-blame-my-love-of-whump-on-ryan, @glittercrow, @subverbaldreams, @magicaltyphoonlady, @pythagoreanwhump, and @straight-to-the-pain if y’all have time.

[convenientalias]

Yuletide Rec List

Y’all there are 3365 fandoms in the Yuletide noms and some of them are really good so I thought I’d just make a promo post here and also rant a little bc I’m excited even tho it’s barely October just looking at this list.

So I’m gonna put the rest of this barely coherent ranting under a read more but like guys, I’m excited.

So here goes. Some fandom recs!

Books

The Alpennia Trilogy by Heather Rose Jones

Mistress/bodyguard ship in the first book, which leads to so many possibilities! Loyalty kink! Power imbalance! All that shit!

Amazing worldbuilding and magic mixed in with religion

I’ve only read the first book but I’m totally gonna request it

Best for femslash fic tbh, but I guess you could do gen.

The Shades of Magic series by V.E. Schwab

Again the worldbuilding is good. But the series is overall very dark. Also, an ensemble kind of feel.

My ship is two powerful magicians who seem to be the last of their kind, both working for royal families, one of whom lives as a prince and the other of whom is enslaved.

They’re enemies most of the time but still.

But a lot of people ship other things bc ensemble cast. There is one canon m/m ship. There is a slightly OP female crossdressing thief. There’s angsty brothers. There’s lots of people basically.

Good fandom for m/m, f/m, gen, even poly. Very good fandom for dark fic or whump imo.

Peter Darling by Austin Chant

Trans Peter Pan who used to be Wendy Darling

Ship is Peter Pan/Captain Hook

Writing style is gorgeous

Captures the cruel, childlike side of Peter Pan.

Good fandom for slash mostly, but I imagine you could pull off gen too.

Nero Wolfe series by Rex Stout

Detectives in New York in some vaguely historical time period.

Narrator is Archie Goodwin, very snarky and charming, one of my favorite characters of all time.

All the mysteries are fun but you’re mostly here for the dynamics between Archie, Nero Wolfe himself, and all the other regular members in the series--the detectives sometimes brought in to help out, the house cook, the pissed-off policemen, etc etc.

Also totally fine to read out of order, I’ve never really paid much attention to the order myself. Includes both novels and novellas.

A lot of people write slash in this fandom; I don’t really ship any slash ships for it (I’m kind of a gen bitch here) but I admit the potential is there.

Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner

Technically YA fantasy but I’d say it’s not that firmly YA except for the first book.

Land of twists and intrigue with the occasional questing adventure. Pseudo-Greek setting.

Includes one of my favorite f/m ships for which I long for more dark fic.

Surprisingly active fandom, I am nowhere near caught up on the fanfic for the last book published.

Good fandom for het, slash, occasionally poly, and very good for GEN (sorry, the MC’s name is Gen and I couldn’t resist).

Goblin Market by Christina Rosetti

Idk why there’s a fandom nomination for a poem but I guess I’ll go with it, it’s a good poem.

Very ripe for femslash tho technically the MCs are sisters (but do they read like sisters? No, no they do not) so you might have to go AU for it.

Kind of dark and weird but childlike at the same time.

Movies/TV Shows/Anime/Literally Anything But Books

Kakegurui (anime/manga)

I’ve only watched the anime but I hear the manga is good.

Crazy high school obsessed with gambling gets even crazier when Yumeko the gambling freak shows up just to start drama.

Weirdly dark even tho nothing life threatening really happens. Ridiculously grotesque facial expressions on absolutely everyone.

Very good for femslash, decent for het and poly. You could probably write gen. But how.

Kado: The Right Answer (anime)

It’s sci-fi show that’s half about contact with aliens and half about the unhealthy relationship between an alien and his favorite human. And when I say half I mean “gets really dark in the last third”. But if you’re mostly interested in that part, it’s short enough that you still get there pretty quick.

I really just want dark slash fic, that’s all guys.

Two Faces of January (movie)

This is also a book by Patricia Highsmith but I nominated the movie bc it has Oscar Isaac and Viggo Mortensen.

Dark thriller vibes

Slashy vibes with weird daddy kink overtones (it can’t be helped, and this remains constant whether it’s book or movie)

Somehow I still ship it despite not really liking daddy kink.

Just trust me

Singin’ In the Rain

I’m really hoping this was nominated by someone who wants OT3 fic.

That’s all.

Gattaca

If you don’t already know about Gattaca are you even following me

It has Jude Law in it

Also it explores dystopian ableism and yet has an oddly ableist ending which consistently PISSES ME OFF, which is why I always request fix-it fic.

People really like slash for this movie and I get it but I don’t really ship it but a lot of people do so if you watch it, you will probably ship it too.

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

British miniseries which I somehow like despite not liking most BBC shows. (Seriously, my roommate and sister have both tried to get me into Sherlock and Dr. Who and I just can’t, good for y’all who like such things tho.)

I’m mostly here for the fae aspects and one of the MCs being traumatized and descending into insanity.

But the aesthetic is also pretty rad.

 Harlots

It’s about harlots. Kind of Victorian? I think? Idk time periods guys.

It portrays sex and sex workers in interesting, pretty down to earth ways.

It’s a good place for femslash but I somehow find myself craving gen.

The aesthetic is strong.

Luke Cage

I’ve still only seen the first season but it was rad

A lot of black people, guys

Also superhero-y things

Probably best for het, tbh, tho I would slash ship Luke with Cornell. Why doesn’t anyone seem to ship that?

Sakeru Gum

It’s like a five minute commercial compilation that will change your life.

I’ve probably reblogged it at some point. Otherwise, search it on Youtube.

Loooong looooong mAAaaaaan

Fandoms I’m Not Actually In But Might Join If The Prompts Look Good

There’s a couple different books nommed by Mary Renault! I’m reading the Alexander Trilogy right now (Alexander the fuckign Great, guys), which is nommed, so if things work out I might write for that. There’s also The Last of the Wine and Mask of Apollo.

Also, there are two series nominated that are by K.J. Charles. I’ve only ever read The Henchmen of Zenda by K.J. Charles but that was really good, so I may have to try one of these series out. Of course, I’d have to actually have time, and series are a bit lengthy for me this semester! But I might read a book or two if the prompts look excellent.

Someone nominated Learning Curves by Ceillie Simkiss? Which is an indie lesfic romance novella which was published only this August. I’m shocked it somehow ended up in the tagset and very curious about prompts. But I haven’t actually read this book, I’ve just heard of it.

The Caper Court series by Caro Fraser sounds interesting, too. It’s about a guy trying to become a lawyer who needs to fulfill a pupillage first, whatever the fuck that is, but apparently there’s gay people and intrigue, so I’m interested. I’ve started the first book.

Also, Zorro by Isabel Allende is nominated. I’ve never read this book but I’ve always wanted to because I love Zorro--the old TV show was one of my favorites as a kid. But I’ve never read a literary take on it.

If I can watch the Kdrama for Orange Marmalade, I’m interested in that too. I’ve only ever read the webmanga, didn’t know it was a live action now. It’s got vampires :) and high school drama.

So this rant was kind of unnecessary, but I just have a lot of feelings, guys, okay? Just...a lot of feelings...