#SAUL WHUMP

[starryybrained]

Waking Up In a Nightmare

Whumptober Day 10: Slurred words/Passing out from the pain

Masterlist

Content: Noncon body modification/surgery (aftermath), body horror, drugging, lab whump, nausea, excessive vomit, forced stripping, nonsexual nudity, delirium

Saul comes to, unseeing, the world dark and fuzzy, laying flat on his back. Everything is heavy and muddled, confusing. Something clinks in the background, coupled with a click-clack that he can’t parse the direction or source of.

He groans, and it sounds like it’s coming from someone else’s mouth, distant.

Where?– … Huh?

He clutches something made of fabric beneath him, attempting to lift himself up, forcing his arms back and extending them slightly, shaking. His back barely lifts off of the surface of… whatever he’s on. His chest aches with the movement, fiery and stabbing.

He can hear someone say ��Stable.” The voice sounds… vaguely feminine.

The world begins to come into focus, blurry and blindingly white, making his eyes water. Saul takes in a shuddering breath. His lungs scream with the very movement. The feeling of taking in air is like that of glass shards lodging themselves within his innards.

“Implanted… successfully.” The voice continues. It sounds drifty and faraway.

Saul’s thoughts turn in circles, still half-sludge. It’s like he’s asleep and awake all at once, yet able to see.

He blinks slowly. Again, he tries to lift himself up.

“Fffuck,” he slurs, coughing, dropping onto his back once more. He tries again, and manages to sit up, unsteady, his head heavy on his shoulders. Someone pushes him back and weakly, he tries to resist. “No… no, jus’ let me fuckin’ … ssta- and. … Ssit.” His voice is small, but filled with conviction. It shakes ever so slightly.

“No. Lay back.” The voice tells him, no-nonsense.

“I hhave to… ssitup. Lemme.” Saul coughs again. It sounds wet and gross. He heaves, the wetness catching in his throat. He clutches at it sluggishly. Finally, he clears it out, able to breathe, gasping. His eyes open wide as he does. He can see her now. Dr. Greyson. Her figure is still a little blurry, but he can still identify her, the smudge of blue in his vision unmistakable.

His chest still aches.

“Whhhat— what did yyou…” Saul starts to say, blindly touching his chest. He’s clothed in something other than the experiment uniform, he can feel it. The fabric is different. Beneath it, his skin gives, sticking to it. It has the hardness of some kind of slime. “Th’fuck?!” He suddenly sits up, leaning forward as if his head is too heavy for his body. As he sits, he realizes he’s wearing a hospital gown. The barest shred of decency he can be allowed here.

Then his stomach turns.

Coughing again, he hacks up something. It drips down his chin, thick and sticky. Saul covers his mouth with one hand, using the other to keep his unsteady balance in check.

He groans and mutters something unintelligible. It’s clear through the tone of his voice that it’s something vile. “… hhurts.”  Saul doubles over without warning, grasping at his chest. “Ahg- shitshitshit—” He gasps, squeezing his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he breathes, the air seething through his teeth. It’s like something has him within its jaws, biting him clean in two. It’s viselike, crushing.

Painkillers. He needs more painkillers.

He opens his mouth to speak and gags. Nothing comes out, but nausea crawls up his throat, pressing on the back of it. He forces himself to breathe deeply. He just needs to keep it together.

He opens his mouth to speak, soundless, and the world blurs in front of him again. The need to vomit is overwhelming. Saul’s breath is ragged.

During all of this, Dr. Greyson does nothing. She types on her screens and tends to her work and with unwanted tears in his eyes Saul almost wants to cuss her out — but he forgets the words, forgets how to ask her to give him some morphine or whatever the hell it is, all he can do is sit there with his mouth clamped shut, holding back his vomit.

Eventually, he throws up, black vomit staining the front of the hospital gown and pouring down the side of the surface he lays on, spilling onto the ground with a splatter. He throws up again and again, until there’s nothing left and he’s spewing up his own bile, a bright, noxious green. The smell is pungent.

Saul’s eyes sting and he blinks over and over.

Oh god. He’s crying. He’s crying and he’s covered in his own vomit. It’s dripping down his chin and it’s all over the hospital gown, greasy and jet-black, and his front is coated with it. It’s an absolutely obscene amount of waste.

Saul heaves. His ribcage feels like it’s snapping in two and his throat burns and his heartbeats are thudding in his ears, throbbing to the point his own skull feels like a claustrophobic nightmare.

This is a nightmare.

Saul’s head swims, vision turning dark.

…

Suddenly he’s back, seeing everything in double vision, held up by cold, slick metal. Dr. Greyson touches him, her hands gloved, untying the gown. The feeling is overwhelming.

His breath comes out quick and uneven.

She drags the soiled gown away from his body in one swift movement, and then he’s exposed. Blood rushes to his ears.

He stares at his own body, first mortified, then disbelieving.

He must be delirious.

Saul doesn’t even have the will to scream. The ugly stitches across his chest bleed blue and inky black, and in the center lies a thick, sticky membrane stretched across the skin. It looks like a patchwork of his own flesh and blood, like he’s been torn apart and sewn back up like a ragdoll. And like this, he really is a doll.

The pain makes sense now. It all makes sense, in a detached, confusing kind of way.

He’s been ruined. That’s what’s happened. Nothing will ever be the same anymore.

Dr. Greyson returns with a clean gown. It flutters like a ghost as she carries it.

Saul looks away from her, curling on his side. The room appears to crumble around him, flaking away. He breathes harder. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Dr. Greyson’s face is missing. She comes closer, gloved hands reaching for his arms.

“Get th’fuck away—”

She doesn’t.

Her touch is icy cold, clashing with the roiling heat in his chest. Saul’s entire body is on fire. He tries to push her away but he can’t.

The world continues to crack apart, and he begins to crack too. Right in his chest, where the ache is the worst. She clothes him, and the fabric is so light and thin yet claustrophobic and exposing.

He’s crying again. Or his vision is blurry. He can’t tell. He can’t tell anymore. He doesn’t know. It’s too much, it’s all too much —

Saul curls in on himself, dizzy and breathing shallowly. He’s going to die, isn’t he? He’s going to die, he can feel his chest collapsing on itself—!

… Everything goes black.

[faytalepsy]

Wips and Chains

I couldn’t help myself as soon as this idea sprang into my head I just had to draw it. There are now also a myriad ideas haunting my head and tempting me to write something.

TW: Following artwork shows blood and implied self-harm/suicide

Prompt

Farah was murdered by Rosalind but Saul cannot let go and uses ancient rituals to contact her spirit. Unfortunately all rituals have a cost and require a sacrifice but what is a little of his blood when he gets to see Farah again. All too quickly he grows dependent on the rituals and what started as a little bit of blood becomes much more as the cost steadily rises. Will he be able to say the final farewell or will the broken bond become his downfall?

Sacrifice

[myalchod]

WIP Wednesday

Share the last line of your WIP, with no context!

As always, going with “the last WIP I worked on” because I am the most distractible of murderbirbs and cannot work on only one thing at once. This one’s definitely getting somewhere, especially for a thing where I literally scrapped the entirety of it and had to recalibrate a few days ago. Longhand for extra fun, since that’s how I’ve been writing at work.

(In the back of her mind, within his prison, Saul stirs.)

Mixing it up a bit in the no-pressure tags: @lottiehenrietta, @septemberrie, @whenshesayshush, @foullightdiplomatcreator-blog, @somenamewithepineapple, and anyone else who wants to do it 😘

[whumporpass]

My OC Saul

(Propaganda)

Guyloser

Trans/genderqueer & aspec

Comes from space and is an alien

DEAD PARENTS!!

Lab experiment (basically doomed to become one from the start)

Filled with yearning and dread and self loathing and other conflicting emotions

Body horror (gets goopy, absorbs people, has more organs than normal, etc)

Fun to cut open!

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 7

Uta

"Uta." Luffy popped his head in the treehouse, smiling when he saw his friend there sitting against the bark. "Uta!" He climbed onto the platform, going over to her. "You won't believe the treasure we got today-" Luffy paused, seeing the girl has made no reaction. He pouted and began poking her cheek. "Uta... Uta... Can you hear me?"

"What are you whining about now, crybaby?" Ace grunted as he climbed into the treehouse, followed by Sabo.

"Uta sleeping so I can't tell her about the treasure we got," Luffy huffed, sitting in front of her with his arms and legs crossed.

"Just wake her up dumbie."

"I can't, she's a heavy sleeper."

"Eh? Seriously?" Sabo looked surprised. "But she always wakes up if we move too much in our sleep." He scratched his head looking at their sister.

"That's different," Luffy stated.

"How?" Sabo asked, only to receive a shrug from Luffy in response. Sabo deadpanned.

"Just yell in her ear like we do to each other." Ace went over to Uta.

"Wait, Ace don't-" Luffy tried to warn Ace but he already moved Uta's headphones.

"AHH!" Uta jumped awake, fearful eyes darting everywhere.

"Uta, Uta, calm down, you're just with us." Luffy reassured her while Ace rubbed his ears.

"Luffy?" The girl focused her gaze on him, slowly her heart rate return to a regular pace. She placed her hands over her ears, frowning when nothing were covering them. "Who took my headphones." All eyes fell on Ace who is currently finding that catapiller climbing the wall to be very interesting.

"Ace..." Sabo's tone hinted that the ravenette should probably apologize.

"Okay, I did it." Ace held out the headphones. "I didn't think anything bad would happen." 

He took a step forward, creaking a floorboard. Instantly, Uta hissed in pain as a thousand needles stung her ears. Using one hand to snatch the headphones as the other attempted to ease her ears, she hastily snapped the device back over her ears, sighing in relief.

"Don't do that again," Uta said, glaring at Ace.

"Why are they so important anyways?" Ace asked.

"Her ears hurt from all the noises everywhere if she's not wearing them," Luffy bluntly states pointing at her. Uta was about to protest but shut her mouth when Luffy technically explained it. The strawhat boy then turned the singer. "Can I tell you about the treasure we snagged today now?"

Uta nodded and Luffy cheered, leaving the other two brothers with more inquiries about their sister.

Tag: @roseoftrafalgar @bookandyarndragon

[aserene]

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

For the amazing @junkshop-disco ---- here is Story I for the @winxsource HEX. Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

I promise story II will be up in the next few days, just working on a few things.

Thank you to @myalchod for their help and for listening to me scream about the gazillion ideas.

[kitsu63]

And we fall - Kitsu63 - Fate: The Winx Saga (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

[lilac-gold]

Hey my birthday's on October 1st and on behalf on every October 1st birthdayers I'm offended by the existence of whumptober, I will be contacting my lawyer Saul Goodman.

afraid that's not a lawsuit you're going to win, Craig.

happy birthday for october though :)

[starryybrained]

Wrote this in like one go bc I felt inspired

CWs: Implied body horror (two guys are sharing a body/a body fused to another but the other one is kind of just inside Saul’s at the moment so he looks normal uhh. Yeah it’s complicated), masc whumpees, experiment whumpees, lab whump (not actively occuring but. They’re in a lab)

Saul groans.

How many days has it been?

How many days in this blank white room can he even count?

He and Florence have each other, of course, but there’s not much else. There’s only so much time you can spend stuck to someone — literally. Being part of each other, fused on a molecular level.

…It’s understandably a horrible existence.

They sigh in unison, dual sets of lungs working at once, sitting on the floor and leaning back.

“Hey… Saul.” Florence says in their head. Hushed, despite not needing to be.

Saul audibly mumbles a response.

He internally huffs. “Stop that.”

“… M’no.” Saul continues to speak out loud, slumping back further so the two are laying on the ground.

Florence concedes, letting him do as he pleases.

“Saul…”

“Yes?” He finally asks silently.

“Uh… I don’t know, I — don’t listen to me.”

Saul closes his eyes. “Hm?”

“No, I — I just felt like talking. It’s so… bland here.”

Saul laughs. “You tell me.”

“I want to make something.” Florence says with conviction. Their hand twitches.

“Then do that.”

“I can’t. There’s nothing.”

“Make a story. I do it all the time.”

“But —”

“We’ll make it together. How ‘bout that?”

“ … Okay.”

“That’s more like it.”

Whump Prompt 78

Write something based on this concept:

Whumpee is so bored, bored out of their mind, bored to death in captivity, with nothing to distract them or take their mind off their situation. So what can they do?

[starryybrained]

The Needle’s Eye

Whumptober Day 16: “No, I can’t feel anything.”

Masterlist

Content: Lab whump/medical whump, aliens, experiment whumpee, scientist/surgeon whumper, needles/syringes, noncon drugging, restraints, manhandling, implied surgical procedure

Procedurally, the operation began before Saul was even on the table.

Already awake, he was offered the chance to go willingly. Through a speaker broadcasting from the other room, the doctor’s voice told him he would be operated on and that he could go without resistance. After all, it would be much easier to cuff him and drag him to the operating room if he let them. The offer was charitable, especially for someone like him. But of course, he refused. Why wouldn’t he? No way could he actually be tested on now. No way this could actually be happening.

Mechanical arms dropped from the ceiling, pressing him against the wall by his wrists and neck, and under them, he went rigid, knowing this was happening, whether or not he wanted it. He wished he had the heart to fight back, but he knew there was no reason to. It was futile.

A mechanical arm tipped with a syringe lowered itself in front of him, snakelike. The liquid inside was clear, almost cyan but not concentrated enough to be that color, something sharp and hypodermic. A tube funned into it, weaving around the metal of the arm, made of rubber. He stared at it, gasping hard, reality becoming slanted and wrong in front of his very eyes.

The arm almost looked like it was alive, and he glimpsed his reflection in the glass of the syringe. Terrified and delirious, he laughed. Saul never laughed, never smiled, and it was wrong, all wrong, the sound of it came out shaky and strangled. He was shaky. The arms steadied his shoulder, and with some effort, he suddenly struggled, uselessly writhing, kicking. It was to no avail. The needle pressed against his shoulder, plunging into his flesh, the plunger depressing as the sedative was injected into him. He could feel it under his skin, just barely. Then it retracted, returning to the ceiling, and Saul watched it, his body beginning to feel horribly numb.

The door to his cell clicked, unlocking, and unable to do anything more, he watched it open with a hiss of air, breathing hard as the sedative turned his limbs to jelly. Dr. Greyson entered, bringing in a gurney, and even with his head spinning, Saul was cognizant enough to know he’d end up on it.

And he did, his body puppeteered by the arms, a combination of Dr. Greyson and the mechanical limbs guided him to the gurney, flesh and metal guiding flesh. Once he was laid onto its surface, there was no pause; with a simple press of a button, Dr. Greyson activated the restraints. They appeared as if by magic, shiny and blue, across his limbs, chest, and stomach, holding him down fast.

His head spun as she transported him out. This was the first time since being brought here that he’d been able to leave his cell, yet he had no time or ability to appreciate it, the hallway around him turning into a blur of grays and silvers and blinding white. The world seemed like it was melting, bleeding into itself, making his head fuzzy. He’d completely lost the will and urge to resist, becoming a passive observer on the way to his fate. He hoped whatever they did would be quick, wouldn’t hurt. At the very least, they had to have the decency to put him under.

The world finally stopped moving.

Saul felt like he was about to vomit. Great. This was spectacular.

Thankfully, it wasn’t some voyeuristic operating theater he’d been brought to, but a relatively small, compact room. He stared at the ceiling, looking up at the jointed, surgical arms affixed to it, hoping they’d just drug him again so he wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore. The feeling was honestly nerve wracking, the type of primal fear you get from knowing something will happen and having no way to change it, the fear knowing you’re cornered and about to be brutalized.

Dr. Greyson lifted his head up and put a pillow under his neck, elevating it. Now Saul could see more of the room, the sinks, the counters laden with tools and machines, an IV next to him, hooked to nothing, tubes and wires everywhere. He watched as Dr. Greyson rolled up the right pants leg of his uniform, putting a cuff around his leg and tightening it, pulling up a monitor of his heartbeat. In real time, he watched the erratic fluttering of his hearts, measured in both numbers and graphs.

He was steeling himself, waiting for something, anything. Dr. Greyson was painfully slow with her preparations, it seemed. …Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe Saul wasn’t perceiving things right. Whatever the case, it was becoming excruciating to lay back and wait passively.

Dr. Greyson took a box out of one of the drawers on the counters, opened it and placed the materials on a tray near Saul’s face. She washed her hands and put on a pair of gloves. They went on with a snap, blue and sterile.

She rolled up his sleeve, wiping down the inner pit of his elbow. He could smell it as she did, the scent of the antiseptic sharp. She then chose a gauge and tightened a tourniquet around his upper arm. He hissed at the feeling, the tension unbearably tight.

She then tended to the IV, getting the IV bag ready and attaching the IV line to it. She removed the cap of the needle, and in the fluorescent lighting, it gleamed.

Saul didn’t cringe at the sight, he merely braced himself for the familiar feeling of a needle entering his vein, knowing he’d have no idea what came next.

Dr. Greyson held the skin of his arm taut and inserted the needle. Saul watched as she did, unable to tear his eyes away. He had to watch. It was imperative. The needle slipped in easily with Dr. Greyson’s skillful handiwork, and it was done in less than a moment. Pressing her finger beyond the catheter tip, she undid the tourniquet. She pressed the activation button and began to wrap the IV line.

Saul’s vision was going fuzzy now, black spots dancing before his eyes. His breathing slowed further, and his thoughts began to scramble, dissolving into nonsense. He could faintly feel hands on his neck, tilting his head, murky behind a thickening film between him and reality.

His eyes grew cloudy and he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

The operation was ready to begin.

[purplehairedwonder]

Chapter 1081: Heartbroken

Me, reading this chapter:

Okay, let’s start with the stuff on Hachinosu:

Garp and his ship land in the wake of the giant explosion at the end of last chapter. He’s worried he’s losing his touch while everyone else looks on in horror at the thought that this is what losing a step looks like. (Just saying, Akainu should be sending Sengoku flowers and chocolates for saving his life at Marineford when he stopped Garp from attacking.)

Moreover, thankfully we don’t have to wait for Garp and Coby to reunite.

But there is a complication: turns out Kuzan is actually on Hachinosu after all (which leaves Lafitte and Catarina Devon to potentially be on the ship heading to Egghead). I am genuinely surprised by this; I felt fairly certain Kuzan would be at Egghead with all the Ohara references. But now I’m wondering if Kuzan will cross paths with the Straw Hats at Elbaf... which is also where Saul is. That would be something.

(Also, I still want to know where Smoker is.)

Kuzan announces his presence by freezing Hibari. 

So, this could be a coincidence, but there’s also a potential for something more dramatic here. There are theories floating around that Hibari is Akainu’s daughter, so Kuzan freezing her here could be a sort of revenge against the man who cost him the position of Fleet Admiral and his leg.

We also get a flashback to Kuzan joining the Blackbeard Pirates:

NGL, it’s pretty sus that Kuzan and Blackbeard just happened to end up at the same place. I don’t feel like this stops the speculation that Kuzan is undercover, especially considering some of the things he says:

Back at Ohara, he says

Later, when he saves Smoker from Doflamingo on Punk Hazard, he tells Smoker

(Side note, this is very much like what Law tells Smoker about why he became a Warlord--seeing things at a different angle.)

Kuzan, despite being with Blackbeard at this point, is calling himself independent. And he says,

Which brings us to what he says on Hachinosu:

He’s acting according to his own wishes, not the World Government’s and not Blackbeard’s. After all, consider what Blackbeard says when he recruits Kuzan:

Kuzan clearly has his own agenda here--one he’s had in mind and has been inspired by for a long time, only now he feels free to act on it--and if he has to fight Garp to keep up his place in their midst until his goals are achieved, he will do so. 

(I just want to take a moment to note that we have yet another contrast between Blackbeard and Luffy; Luffy’s crew is full of his friends who fight for one another and want to help each other achieve their dreams. Blackbeard’s crew is entirely transactional.)

The way he phrases the need to make sure Coby isn’t rescued is also telling:

The optics would be bad for his mission if Coby got out in his watch, and that’s the only concern. He’s not a true believer here; he’s doing what is necessary for whatever his mission is.

So, Kuzan is an immovable object and Garp is an unstoppable force. They collide.

AND NOW TO THE PART OF THE CHAPTER THAT WILL BE LIVING RENT FREE IN MY BRAIN FOR THE REST OF FOREVER.

Oh no.

WELL, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY.

This panel... hit me like a physical blow. Law’s been on the Tang since he was 16. I’m emotional about it.

Law whumps so pretty, sorry not sorry. (Add this to the file with him on the Heart Throne in Dressrosa and being tortured in Wano.) Bepo is... really adorable? And I love that the two of them are together here? Bepo’s with his captain, and I cry. This was also a brutal fight since it was Blackbeard and three Titanic commanders vs. the Hearts.

And another Rocky Port mention:

So, this confirms that Law got his hundred hearts at Rocky Port, and they’re all still on Hachinosu.

Meanwhile, Bepo (in another adorable panel) eats a new rumble ball from Chopper. (Can we talk about Chopper making this for Bepo? Chopper, bb, I love you so much.)

Law, stop being so pretty while you’re bloodied up.

Blackbeard knows about the Perennial Youth Operation, which is not surprising since he’s been hunting down Devil Fruits and Law’s is known as the Ultimate Devil Fruit. It’s interesting, too, that when Blackbeard ambushes Law, he says it’s for Law’s poneglyphs, but when Law is defeated, he talks about his Devil Fruit instead.

(Speaking of Law’s poneglyphs, did Blackbeard get them? With the Tang sinking and the captain and navigator escaping... wouldn’t it be ironic if he ambushed Law for his poneglyphs only to forget to take them in his victory.)

AND CHOPPER’S GIFT LETS BEPO GO SULONG WITHOUT THE FULL MOON. HYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYPE.

This bear, who is constantly apologizing for silly things, TAKES ON BLACKBEARD AND HIS TITANIC CAPTAINS to protect Law. I love their friendship so much.

Bepo takes Law and escapes in the sea. (Fun fact, polar bears can swim about 6 mph/10 kmh, and the longest known distance a polar bear has swum is 220 miles/354 km. So, Bepo is capable of getting Law to safety.)

Also, Law is leaving his hat and Kikoku behind -- two of his most visible signifiers. This... this hurts.

I am genuinely heartbroken by this moment. We know how much Law cares for his crew; he sent them to Zou to protect them from Doflamingo, and he gave himself up to be tortured in Wano to rescue Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. He takes his role protecting his people very seriously, so he begs Bepo to turn around even though he’s in no shape to do anything. He just won’t abandon them (reminds me of him refusing to abandon Luffy if he were to die in Dressrosa).

But Bepo tells Law to trust in the Hearts. They’re tough and they’re survivors. This makes me think the Hearts will survive and regroup offscreen while Law and Bepo get away. (I can’t help but think, though, about the Hearts scattered on Winner Island and in the water and how Blackbeard is involved in the slave trade. Could you imagine the rage if Blackbeard sold the Hearts into slavery and Law had to rescue them? Or, if Blackbeard brings the survivors back as prisoners and lets the pirates with missing hearts at them... Yikes.)

Despite being conscious, Law must be in really bad shape for Bepo to be worried about him dying here. (I get that going underwater is safer against threats like Van Augur here, but Law is a badly-wounded Devil Fruit eater... he’s not going to be able to stay under very long, Bepo, heh.)

I want to examine, for a second, the way the defeat of the Hearts is framed versus the defeat of the Kid Pirates (versus the defeat of the Straw Hats in Sabaody).

“Winner Island, New World. On this day, the Heart Pirates, led by Trafalgar Law, were soundly defeated.”

“On this day, in the New World by Elbaf, the Kid Pirate crew, led by Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid, a man worth 3 billion, was completely eradicated.”

“Grove 12, Sabaody Archipelago, the Grand Line. That day, the Straw Hat Pirates, led by Captain Monkey D. Luffy, were eradicated.”

It’s quite noticeable how much more dramatically both the Kid Pirates’ and the Straw Hats’ defeats were described. For one thing, the descriptions of the Kid Pirates’ and Straw Hats’ defeats are more flowery. 

Plus, the use of the word “eradicated,” which sounds permanent. Obviously, the Straw Hats weren’t permanently broken up, but they are separated for two years. It’s a dramatic defeat. We don’t know what happened to the Kid Pirates, but it didn’t look good, as both Kid and Killer, who can’t swim, were thrown into the water. On the other hand, the Hearts are described as being “defeated” while Law and Bepo escape.

So, what comes next? On the one hand, it would make a lot of sense for Bepo to get Law to safety and then call the Straw Hats. This could be a great excuse to get Law back onto the Sunny for the duration, especially since his goal to learn about the Will of D. is aligned with Luffy’s without competing with his. Plus, you know Luffy wouldn’t hesitate to help Law.

On the other hand, if we think about where Law is in conjunction to the other two captains...

He’s closer to Elbaf than Egghead. It would not shock me if we start to see all these plotlines (Straw Hats, Kuzan, Law) converge on Elbaf.

Ugh, this chapter has completely wrecked me.

[lindsay00000008]

David playing the harp for King Saul vibes…

…but make it whump.

CW: creepy/intimate whumper, noncon elements, manhandling, power imbalance, dehumanization kind of, m!whumper(s)

Whumpee is renowned for their musical skills — string instruments, wind, reed, even their voice.

Whumper has purchased them, or pays for their livelihood, and they need only to entertain Whumper and Whumper’s cohort. Whumpee knows what tunes please an idle, worldly man; what gaudy poetry to recite above the lyre, to make guests fawn over the delicate luxuries of Whumper’s household.

Whumpee is used to this life, having played for courts and theaters and even on the street — this is different, though. They are kept like a precious instrument themselves, brought out of their chamber only for a special occasion, or for Whumper’s own delight. They often have an audience of one, unless there’s a banquet being thrown, or a meeting of close friends, the halls full of the haze of heavy herbal smoke, the smell of strong wine, and the thunder of raucous laughter.

On quieter nights, Whumper requests soothing music to be played in his chambers. His position, though at times allowing him to be slothful and decadent, can also be stressful. That’s why he sometimes lashes out at Whumpee, smacks them if they take too long of a rest between songs, yells at them to play something else when their voice tires and they seek an easier, more familiar tune.

On these nights Whumpee’s responsibilities seem more vague. They’re responsible for helping Whumper relax, using their skillful hands and mouth, their well-honed dexterity, to assist Whumper in releasing the tension from his body. Whumper lays on his side, head propped in one hand as he sips from his fourth cup of wine — Whumpee knows, as they’re the one doing the pouring.

It’s not enough, tonight. Whumper is restless. He bids Whumpee to come closer. Sit beside the bed with the harp, sing me to sleep. When he can’t sleep, he requests— demands that Whumpee join him on the soft pallet, that Whumpee abandon their instrument to lay beside him, sing softly to him from the silk and fur.

The first heavy-handed touch, shocking in its brazen nature, it’s blatant ownership, makes Whumpee’s voice waver. That earns them a sharp pinch, a bruising grip at the sensitive, soft point of their hip. They keep their breathing steady, throughout it all — throughout the slipping of hands over collarbone and sternum, the press of Whumper’s hand at Whumpee’s ribs, following the motion of their song. Pinches of smooth skin, beneath the hem of Whumper’s tunic, the inside of their thigh. They sing until Whumper is satisfied with his perusal. Until his breathing is slow and steady. They wait a little longer, wait until they can trust their nervous, twitching limbs. They slip out from under Whumper’s arm, almost clumsily, their own breathing disturbed and their throat raw, their lungs aching from being so tense.

They take their beloved instrument in gentle shaking hands and move it to sit by the wall. The satin pillow, the one they use when playing, they take with them, clutching it close to their chest as they return to their own small room down the hall. They close the door and listen as the small latch clicks — no lock installed for their security.

Whumpee knows it’ll only get worse from here… do they pack up and try to run away? Maybe they’re paranoid, and Whumper was just lonely and drunk. Do they put on a happy face for Whumper and his friends, and try to weather the storm?

What happens when Whumper requests more from Whumpee, during a banquet later that month? Dance for us, he says. Whumpee adorns themselves with clinking metals and bells, dancing to the beat of their own steps and humming a song of their homeland. Sing for my guests, wash their feet. Whumpee kneels before them, hands working with water and cloth, wiping the dust and road-weariness from their skin. My guardsman grows weary. Massage his legs, kiss his aching hands. Whumpee sinks down beside the guard at his post near the doorway, using warm oils to pull stale blood up his shapely calves. They move to his thighs, massaging just above the knee, unsure of how to proceed. Their eyes meet, and the guardsman looks away, a menacing huff of his breath making Whumpee flinch and move to his hands. The man’s grip on the pommel of his sword tightens, then he releases the weapon at his side, allowing Whumpee to tentatively massage the rough knuckles and calloused palm. They feel Whumper’s gaze — they kiss each finger, feigning reverence, exaggerating their commitment to doing Whumper’s bidding. Their lips barely touch the guard’s skin. When finished, the guard’s hands flex and move slowly back to his sides, rolling one oiled palm about the leather pommel of his weapon, grasping it much more lightly than before. Whumpee washes their hands of the oil, and return to their instrument for another song.

After a while, Whumper says Quit your grating serenade. You’ve used your voice past it’s limit. You yourself must rest. Whumpee sighs in relief, placing their blistered hands in their lap. They sit and let their eyes relax, staring blearily at the blurred outline of the vibrant rug before them. Until Whumper pats his thigh, waves Whumpee close. In front of Whumper’s loyal men, Whumpee is beckoned to approach.

It feels like a test. The intimacy Whumper requests, is it Whumpee’s place to acquiesce? To sit in Whumper’s embrace, as he chats and drinks and makes merry with friends? Friends who eye Whumpee with the same predatory awareness, waiting for them to bear their neck, to show weakness?

Whumpee decides — with the wild mind of a stalked prey animal — that weakness would be rejecting Whumper’s invitation. Their limbs creak and burn as they rise to join the man. They gather the fabric of their tunic as Whumper’s hands guide them to sit, pulling Whumpee close and sighing into the crook of their neck. Eat, he bids Whumpee. But Whumpee’s stomach is in knots. Drink, he demands. Whumpee chokes on the bitter wine. Kiss me, he whispers, when the others have become rowdy and distracted with lurid stories and jokes. What is Whumpee to do?

Do they reject Whumper’s advance, create a scene with their protests and jerking limbs? Do Whumper’s friends come to his aid then?

Do they instead submit to the pressure of Whumper’s request, garnering whistles and pinches from the men nearby? What happens when Whumper wants Whumpee to embrace the gaiety of the celebration, and share the entertainment with all others present?

[junkshop-disco]

Folded Paper Stars

Farah is back, hidden, and safe from harm. Now, all Saul has to do is make sure she stays that way. (Silrah angst, hurt/comfort, whump, 3k this chapter, 12kish total when I get around to editing the rest).

Chapter 1 here.

Written for @faytalepsy as part of the @winxsource HEX. I was so excited when the mods asked me to pinch hit this, since I loved the prompts and we had so many interesting conversations when we worked on the RBB together, I thought I could bundle them into something for you. I hope you like and merry belated Christmas x

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul Silva x Teen!reader - what I wouldn’t do to make you better

Hi, I like your stories. Could you write a whump with reader as his child please? - Anon💜

Laying on the bench, you sighed heavily as you stared up at the cloudy sky, listening to the sounds of students training in the background.

You sighed heavily and sat up, looking around at them all, and at your father in the distance helping a few of them.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

You looked up and smiled weakly at Farah.

“I suppose I got fed up of just laying there.”

Farah nodded, and looked at your dad and looked back at you.

“You know, if you tell him you’re here he’ll sit with you for a while.” She said.

“I know Farah… it’s just…”

You sighed heavily.

“It’s his job, you know? These kids need the help and guidance.”

“And he’s still you’re dad. You’re the most important thing to him.”

You slowly pushed yourself up from the bench, stuffing your hands into your pockets of your hoodie as you shivered a little.

“I’ve got to go back inside, it’s getting cold. Please don’t tell him I was here Farah.”

She sighed but nodded her head and you made your way back to your dorm and pulled a fluffy blanket around your shoulders.

Sitting on the sofa, you turned on the Tv on and browsed through some shows on Netflix and decided on one and put it on.

Except you got bored of it pretty quickly, so with the blanket around your shoulders you walked through the hallways and to a different dorm, and kicked the door.

“Stop kicking the door just come in!”

You pushed it open and stepped in, looking at Riven laying on his bed.

“Disgusting put on a shirt.”

“It’s my dorm.”

“And I don’t want to see your gross chest, is sky here?”

“No, try Bloom’s dorm.”

You huffed, and nodded your head, coughing a few times and riven sat up with a frown.

“You okay?”

You nodded and he rolled his eyes, going through his stuff he tossed your over a thick hoodie.

“I want it back, and don’t get blood on it.”

You grinned a little and swapped it for your hoodie, tossing it over to him and he left it on his bed.

“Now get out of here I wanna get high and your sick ass lungs can’t hack the smoke.”

“Ouch, rude, okay.”

You smiled and left the dorm and made your way to the fairy dorms, and kicked that door until someone finally opened it.

“Why do you insist on kicking all the doors?” Stella asked.

“Because I’m holding a blanket clearly, is Sky here?”

“Uh… I think so, come in.”

She let you in and gestured to Bloom’s door and you began to kick that making the rest of the girls laugh a little.

“Kick one more door (Y/N)!” Sky yelled.

He walked over and opened the door, smiling down at you and he rose a brow as he looked at the hoodie you were wearing.

“Riven? Doesn’t his clothes stink of smoke?”

“Nah, he keeps this one for me since you’re a bitch and won’t share your hoodies with me.”

“Okay, no need for that. What’re you looking for anyway?”

“Will you come sit with me for a while?”

Sky immediately looked at you gently and he softly nodded his head, grabbing his jacket from a chair.

“Yeah, of course. Come on.”

Sky knew where you wanted to sit, there was a way into the roof that only you knew about, and you liked to sit up there when things were hard.

So he walked up there with you, and you both sat down, you holding the blanket tightly around you, and him with his arms around his legs.

“Didn’t you want to sit with Silva?”

“He’s busy with training.”

Sky sighed softly.

“You know you can still ask him right? He worries about you.”

“It’s why I can’t ask him sky, because he worries about me.”

Sky sighed, and he looked at you.

He had grown up with you, running around and playing in the garden, when you first got sick. When you thought you were better. When you got sick again worse than last time.

He watch Saul worry about you even more, and he worried about you.

Sky sat there with you for a little while until his phone rang.

“It’s bloom, I’ve got to go. Is that okay?”

You nodded and he gave you a look.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Sky nodded and jogged away, and you carried on sitting there looking over the school grounds.

You were so excited to attend Alfea, you wanted to be a specialist just like your dad, and when you got sick that dream came crashing down.

Sometimes you doubted yourself, wondered if you’re dad was tired of looking after you.

And you knew he wasn’t, he was your dad, he loved you with his whole heart, but you couldn’t help it.

You knew it was exhausting looking after someone who was sick, hell, it was exhausting for you to be sick all the time.

And you hated everything about it.

You didn’t want to be sick.

Signing, you rested your chin on your knees, letting out a few chest wracking coughs.

You finally stopped, and you took a few raspy breaths, and looked up when you heard the distant rumble of thunder and you smiled.

“I knew I’d find you up here.”

You turned around, and you watched as Saul walked over, sitting next to you, draping another blanket over your shoulders.

“I saw you at the training grounds, I was going to come over but you left.”

“I just wanted some air.”

“Is that why you really came by?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything and he sighed softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

“You know if you want me you have to just come tell me right?” He asked softly.

“I know dad… it’s just… I don’t want to bother you…”

“You’re never going to bother kiddo, never ever.”

There was another distant rumble of thunder and Saul smiled to himself.

“Do you want to stay here until it starts to rain?”

“I’d like that.”

Saul nodded and took the blanked from your shoulders, sitting behind you he placed it in his lap, then eased you to lay down.

You rested your head in your dads lap, and he ran his fingers through your hair as you looked up at him.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

He looked down at you.

“You’ll be okay when I die… right…?”

Saul stopped, and he sighed before going back to running his fingers through your hair.

“You’ve still got tears before that happens so don’t worry.”

“Dad…”

He sighed heavily.

“You’ll always be part of me, okay? I’ll never forget about you, and I’ll still come up here, and I’ll still watch storms, and cook your favourite foods.”

“Even though you don’t like it?”

Saul smiled a little.

“You like it, so of course I’ll still make it you goose.”

You laughed a little at the nickname he said, he gave it to you when you were younger and you once saw a goose, and ran around acting like one for a week.

“You’re not going to die though, okay? Not anytime soon.”

You frowned a little bit.

“I’m sick dad… I can’t.. I can’t get better…”

“And that doesn’t mean you’ll die. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep you here with me, okay?”

Saul stopped running his fingers through your hair, and he leant down, pressing a careful kiss to your forehead.

“I will always carry your memory with me, no matter what happens. You’re always going to be that little hooligan child that ran through the house trying to beat everyone with a stick.”

You smiled brightly and laughed a little.

“I got you both good.”

“I still have the scar on my stomach from where you whacked me.”

You snickered a tiny bit, and you sat up, turning around to face him, coughing a few times and he frowned.

You shook your head, holding your your hand.

“Sorry, sorry I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded your head, and he nodded back.

“Don’t give up fighting (Y/N), please? Just keep fighting for as long as you can, okay?”

“I promise dad.”

He felt a rain drop and he stood up, gathering the blanket and he pulled you up, leading you back inside the school and down to your dorm.

He draped the blanket back in the back over the sofa, and you did the same with your other one.

“You.. you’re happy here, right?” Saul asked.

You turned around to look at him.

“Of course I am. I always wanted to come here, even if I can’t train I like studying. And you’re here, so it’s been better. I like knowing I’m near my dad.”

Saul held out his arms, and you walked over, gently hugging him, and he hugged you back.

“I’m sorry for your pain… I wish I could take it away from you… I really do… because if you die, and I’m still here… I’d have nothing…”

“You’d have sky…”

“But I wouldn’t have my little (Y/N), I wouldn’t have my kid.”

You clutched the back of his jumper tightly, stepping on to his feet, and he smiled, walking around with you.

He did this when you were upset as a kid, it’s something he always did when you were upset.

“I’ll keep fighting for you dad.. I love you..”

“I love you too kiddo…” he whispered.

He kissed the top of your head, and wondered around your dorm like that while the rain came pouring down, and the thunder roared above.

It was memories like this Saul burned into his memory, because he needed to remember every single moment he spent with you.

He needed to remember you when you finally left him behind in this world, so that your memory would live, so that you were never truly gone.

You moved your head, resting the side of your head on his chest, and you looked our the window st the pouring rain.

“Can we go stand by the doors?”

“Of course, come on.”

You stepped away from him, and he turned around, crouching down you climbed in your dads back, arms around his shoulders and he stood up, leaving your dorm.

You rested your head on his, and smiled as he reached you to hold your hands in his.

You both stood quietly by the door, just watching the storm, and the sound of the rain and thunder eventually lulled you to sleep.

When Saul realised you were asleep, he took you back to your dorm and sat on your bed, gently letting you down and he covered you up.

Sitting next to you, he placed his hand on your forehead.

“I’m so sorry I can’t make you better…” he whispered.

He looked at the medical equipment in the corner of your room.

“I’ll never stop looking for a way to fix this.. I promise..”

Saul sat there holding your hand, holding it against his chest as he tried to fight his tears back.

There had to be somewhere that could help you, you lived in a world of magic, there had to be something or something that could help you, even just for a little while

[aceofwhump]

Hey! Im looking for good father/son whump trope. They dont need to be related but kinda like Peter Burke and Neil caffrey or tony stark and peter parker. U have any suggetions?

Oh man I looooove a good father son trope/dynamic! I have several suggestions for you

Evan Buckley and Bobby Nash (911)

Jamie Fraser and Fergus (Outlander)

TK and Owen Strand (911 Lone Sta

Sky and Saul Silva (Fate: the Winx Saga)

Malcolm Bright and Gil Aroyo (Prodigal Son)

Shawn and Henry Spencer (Psych)

Tony DiNozzo and Jethro Gibbs (NCIS)

Clark and Jordan and Jonathan Kent (Sueprman & Lois)

Jess Mariano and Luke Danes (Gilmore Girls)

Peter Parker and Tony Stark (Marvel)

Max Kenton and Charlie Kenton (Real Steel)

Stiles Stilinski and Noah Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Hal, Ben, Matt and Tom Mason (Falling Skies)

[aserene]

Aserene's Master Fic List

Last updated 1 September 2024; the newest works are in red. Anything posted on AO3 or FF can be found in this list, fragments and WIPs will be listed at the bottom of each section. My AO3 works are largely locked to registered users only due to AI scraping. If you need an account, please feel free to hit me up for an invite code while I have them to spare.

Fate: the Winx Saga

Why "Did it break your skin" or "Hello Bloom" has such an impact is a question I can't answer. Sorry, Not Sorry.

Regin of Dragon Series

The Smoking Incident (Silrah, pre-canon, Keggar Explanation) 

Are you my fairy Godmother? (Silrah, Ficlets, Bloom & Farah Prequel to main story) 

The Heir of Dragons (WIP, Silrah, HOTD cross over, Farah meets Rhaenys, Bloom & Farah found family) 

Sparrow, Spider this is how it had to be

Sparrow, Sparrow on the hill (Silrah, Farah-centric time travel fix it) 

Spider, spider in the tree - Tell me how it ends (Silrah, Saul-Centric time travel fix it) 

Echantix and More 

Snow (Silrah, Bloom & Farah bonding) 

Across the Sea, Soar Above (Silrah, Make Mermaids cross over) 

Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust (Silrah, Winx power swap) 

Downpour (Silrah, Power Reveal, Bloom & Farah Bonding) 

Lighting (Silrah, Skloom, Protective Farah & Saul) 

Farah and the Caturday 

Tell Tail Heart (Silrah, transformation accidents) 

Let me tell you a tail (Silrah, Bloom & Farah, transformation accidents, Bloom’s in trouble) 

Other Works 

State of Mind (Farah has trouble with her powers)

Down an unknown road to embrace my fate (Meet the family, Silrah, lost child, Selkie)

Made You Look (Silrah, fluffy)

All the Stars in Your Hair (Silrah hair braiding, slight Star Wars cross)

A Solo Guardian (Silrah, Farah & Bloom bonding, Direwolf)

A road so rough, this I know (Road trips, Silrah, Episode tag)

Prompt Fills:

HEX Gifts 

tis the damn season (meet the family/kind of, snowball fights)

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter  (Winter whump, snowball fights)

soft snow falling in a winter serenade (winter party disaster)

Reverse Big Bang 

Ferns are what it must mean to love without yearning (Farah the Fern) 

WIPS:

The Geas of It (Silrah, Skloom, accidents, Like father–like son)

The Best Days (AU Fix it, Rosalind picked the wrong parents, Silrah & Bloom)

Exile (High Court Fae take an interest in Bloom)

The Heiress (Winx reflections on how they got their magic)

Farah the Cat (WIP for Farah and the Caturday) 

Pawlp Fiction (WIP for Farah and the Caturday)

Car Crash (Silrah, baby bloom)

Saul asks Luna for a favor (silrah, Luna, protective Saul)

NCIS 

Let me save you the trouble. They’re all jibbs. 

Long Live the Queen. 

Ex Files Take Two (episode re write)

A Christmas Fairy-Tale (Episode tag, team as family)

I’ve Read all the books beside your bed (domestic fluff, secret relationship)

Bella Noche (vampires)  

One in a Billion (Halloween) 

I talked to your dad, It’s a love story, just say “yes” (meet the family, Judgement Day fix it) 

Coffeeshop Chatter (Batman won’t like this prompt, Jenny overhears the wrong thing) 

In absentia lucis, Tenebrae vincunt, Coram amore lux valet (accidental love confessions)

The Director’s Fool (April fool’s prank) 

The Cure for Hangovers and Other Aliments (Gibbs to the rescue) 

Noli timere malum, sed time heroa (Jibbslet, Kidnapping, Angst with happy ending) 

Truth in the Lies (fake marriage) 

Ask Her (tag to Knockout) 

Say Goodbye 007 (Mentions of JAG, fluff)

The Twelve Days of Christmas (Christmas fluff)

Twist of the Mind (WIP, Secret Relationship, memory alteration) 

Off the Clock (Girl talk) 

He Knocked (Episode tag) 

Haunting (Halloween Fluff)

Muscle Spasm (Gibbs whump, Jenny gives TLC)

Paris Rose (fluff & crack, lipstick) 

Only With You (undercover as married)

The Missing High Heels (Slight sequel to Only with you)

Jen, Jenny, and the Director (fuff & angst, crack treated seriously) 

The Manual (Gibbs’ Rules, Fluff, Team Dynamics) 

History Lessons (Fluffy collection of ficlets) 

Carols in the Night Series

Carols in the Night (Holiday Found Family)

February Ills (Fluffbruary Sequel to Carols in the Night)

The Easter Bunny (Easter theme)

Mother's First (Mother's day)

He didn't have to (Father's day)

Judgement Day Rewritten Series

Second Chances (Gibbs wakes up in a world where Jenny isn’t dead, yet)

From Now On (Jenny gets a second chance and learns what honesty can change) 

The Reality of Acceptance  (Gibbs follows Jenny to LA)

Expressing the Inexpressible Series 

That’s not her style (Tabloids report on Jenny) 

Goodbye Earl (Gibbs finds an interesting person in the middle of an investigation) 

Home (letters, fluff and angst)

Our Song (tooth-rotting fluff) 

Do you Remember? (orchids, hidden relationship) 

24 (WIP) 

It’s beginning to get to me (WIP) 

Anything you can do (WIP)

A little fall of rain (WIP)

Something in Red (WIP)

So Close (WIP)

Ever, Ever, After (WIP)

She’s in Love (WIP)

That’s How You Know (WIP)

One Step Closer (WIP)

WIP 

Watering Your Plants (Post Hiatus) 

The Deal (deal to have a baby) 

Now I lay me down to sleep (secret relationship) 

Xena: Warrior Princess 

So you’re saying there is a chance… 

All Fics are Xena/Ares 

Eventually, these will be rewritten and posted on AO3 

As Long as You’re Mine (post Looking Death in the Eyes) 

Reckoning the Thoughts (takes place during “The Reckoning) 

The Pendant (Aphrodite fixes Looking Death in the Eye) 

WIP 

Wrapped Around Your Finger (Post Xena coming back from Callisto) 

Black Roses Red (Hercules bashing) 

An Affair to Remember (Looking Death in the Eyes Fix It) 

House of the Dragon

WIP

Rhaenys Intervenes (Time Travel Fix-it)

Daemon and Rhaenys work together to save the House of the Dragon (Time Travel Fix-it)

Go All the Way Back (Rhaenyra and Rhaenys Time Travel)

Rhaenys Overhears (Rhaenys will make sure she is the only one with the title of the Queen Who Never Was) 

Cross Overs 

Call my name and save me from the dark (Fate, Wednesday, NCIS, I have issues okay?)

 Wishes come True, Not Free (Fate/Labyrinth) 

A Demon and A Fairy Sat Drinking (Fate/Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)

Grave Digger Redux (Bones/NCIS)

My Perfect Romance (NCIS/My Perfect Romance) 

Captain Bennett’s Christmas Catch (Christmas Catch/NCIS)

The Man with the Blue Eyes (NCIS/ CSI Miami)