#d&d whump

[aspens-whump]

Whumper stole Whumpee's spell focus before tying them up and torturing them. At some point, Whumpee managed to sneak their spell focus back, and with their remaining energy, cast a teleportation spell.

Whumpee's body started to flicker, disappearing just as Whumper reached out to grab them. Exhausted and dizzy, their vision faded as they landed in the only place they were sure was safe---Caretaker's living room.

Needless to say, Caretaker wasn't thrilled to have Whumpee appear on their carpet unconscious, tied up, and in a pool of blood, but they'd have to save the questions until after Whumpee woke up.

For now, Caretaker settled for pulling Whumpee up onto the sofa and trying to bandage them as best they could. The more they worked on Whumpee, the more injuries they found. And they were bizarre injuries too, such as burns in odd shapes and cuts that seem to spell out words or runes. What already looked like a bad enough situation from the beginning revealed itself to be worse and worse, leaving Caretaker wondering who the hell would even do something like this to Whumpee in the first place.

"Shh... Yeah, I know it hurts. Poor thing." Caretaker stroked Whumpee's hair, trying to soothe them as they cried out incoherently with each sting of antiseptic.

The two of them admittedly hadn't spoken in a while, but as soon as Whumpee was lucid, Caretaker was determined to draw the whole story out of Whumpee, no matter how long it took. Someone had made a big mistake hurting Whumpee like that, and Caretaker was going to make sure they'd regret it.

[galaxywhump]

Starry-Eyed

A little something about one of my D&D characters, an owlin Circle of Stars druid named Gienah.

contents: character expecting to die, dehydration, amnesia.

~~~

He opened his eyes to the endless starry sky above him. There were sensations and stimuli - dull, pulsating pain in his head and back, gentle sloshing of water, a hard wooden surface beneath him - but he was too captivated by the sky to pay attention to any of them, his eyes following the stars, searching for paths between them to create constellations. He couldn’t help but smile, which then turned into almost tearing up from how overwhelmed he was by the beauty and grandness of the sky.

When he took a deep breath, the pain intensified, snapping him back to his senses and making him wince. Why was he in pain?

Where was he?

He sat up abruptly and immediately hissed when his head protested this sudden change in position. When his ears stopped ringing and his vision cleared, he looked around, and what he saw chilled him to the core.

He was in a small boat, alone, and all around him, as far as the eye could see, were the inky depths of the ocean.

There had to be something, though, right? Land or a ship, because he couldn’t have been in this boat for too long, considering he was still alive and felt… alright, aside from the pain. He must have ended up here somehow, but how?...

His head throbbed with agony again, but he was determined as he searched deep within his mind.

“Gienah!”

He flinched at the auditory memory, a word said in an authoritative tone that almost made it sound like he was going to be yelled at.

He? Yes, because the word was his name. Gienah. He was sure of that.

Other than that, though, there was nothing. He was trying to remember, but it felt like he was grasping at the thinnest threads that slipped out of his hands and disappeared, pages in a book that faded in front of his eyes, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing, he was lost and in pain and he was going to die. 

He looked around frantically, but there didn’t seem to be much in the boat, other than two oars. No food, no fresh water - and he did make sure, rummaging through the boat before having to accept that there really wasn’t anything that could help him survive. He had no way of getting out of here- No, he had wings. He was an…. owlin, that was the word. He spread his wings a bit just to remember the sensation, and grimaced when a spike of… something hit his mind. A bad memory, maybe? He’d take bad memories over no memories, but the spike passed, leaving behind a vaguely upsetting void. 

Regardless, he knew he didn’t have enough stamina to just fly forever, so leaving the boat when there was no land in sight would be an even more certain death sentence. He shuddered, imagining crashing into the sea, resigned and exhausted. No, he’d have to choose a direction and row, and hope he would come across some land he could fly to. And then… He didn’t know. He’d decide when he survived.

Dizziness overwhelmed him, so he lay back down, just for a moment, until he felt strong enough to start rowing. Was he even strong enough, though? It sure didn’t feel like it. 

No matter. He stared up at the night sky, at the moon and the stars, and he never wanted to go back to the horrifying reality of his current situation.

As he lay there, slipping into comforting mindlessness, he realized that one of his pockets felt heavier than the other. With a small spark of hope, he reached inside, and his fingers closed around a small object. When he held it up to examine it closely, illuminated by moonlight, he realized that it was some kind of whistle, made of gold-colored wood. He turned it this way and that, looking it over with narrowed eyes, but as much as he’d hoped that his seemingly only possession, barring the clothes on his back, would give him some answers, it ended up resulting in even more questions, especially when he realized that his beak didn’t even let him use it. Why would he have this? Was it really his? How did it end up with him if it wasn’t? He sighed and dropped the whistle back into his pocket, fixing his eyes on the sky again, only to have yet another realization.

He’d chalked the sensation up to hunger up until now, but he realized it was something different, a swirl of… energy inside him, and when he raised his hand, almost automatically, he remembered something, whispered a few words, and a few sparks appeared in his hand, only to fade away. Magic. It was magic.

His name was Gienah, he was an owlin, and he knew how to use magic. That was a start. What kind of magic was it, though? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, tuning into the energy inside him, or… not really inside him, not to begin with, instead creeping closer from all around him, from the sea and the sky, from the fish and the seagulls. It came from nature, then. What was this called?

He knew the word, but couldn’t recall it, as if he’d hit a wall in his mind. Not like it mattered right now, anyway; his magic didn’t feel strong and focused enough to help him. He had to do his best on his own, then. He had to survive if he wanted to avoid dying out here and becoming food for the seagulls.

So he sat up, rolled his shoulders, picked up the oars and started rowing. He’d much rather do this during the day, but every second was precious in this race against time. Besides, he could focus on a specific star - the brightest one - and use it to stay on course. He could do this.

Just like he suspected, he wasn’t very strong, but determination pushed him forward. It didn’t matter if his arms felt like they were on fire, he had to push himself far beyond his limits if he wanted to survive, even when the pain was forcing tears out of his eyes. Only when he felt his muscles fully give out did he take a break, letting go of the oars to massage his sore arms and breathe deeply. Looking around, he still saw nothing but the open sea, but it was going to change. It had to.

Having to go back to rowing filled him with dread, his entire body screaming at him to save himself from the strain, but he had no choice. Although… He focused on his apparent magic again. Could he do anything to make this easier for himself, even though he wasn’t especially powerful? Drawing from nature… 

Frowning, he touched one of the oars. It was made of wood, not entirely smooth, though not rough enough for splinters, giving off a makeshift feel. A competent work from an amateur - and he could do something with it.

He grabbed both oars and closed his eyes. Just like with the sparks earlier, it was… an instinct, something that he had practiced so many times that even his mangled memory wasn’t an obstacle. He whispered a few words and tapped his fingers on the oars, and…

He opened his eyes slightly and gasped when he saw the oars glowing with thin veins of light that permeated the wood and climbed up. The oars felt… lighter, somehow, and when he put them in the water and pushed, there was less resistance than before. It worked. He could do this - this time the reassurance had more conviction behind it.

This continued into the next day, casting his spell, rowing, resting, searching for land or a ship, focusing only on the task at hand, because he knew that if he gave in to hopelessness, he would only doom himself. He could barely feel his arms, but he kept rowing, forcing himself into a murderous routine, tuning out everything else. His fingers were sore and stiff, and he felt like they were frozen solid every time he had to open his hands to let go of the oars. The only mercy was the weather, the sun peeking out from behind the clouds from time to time; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle being constantly exposed to its scorching heat.

Night finally fell, and he took a moment to look up at the stars once again. There was something… soothing about them. They were constant, unchanging, always there, unswayed by what was going on in the mortal realm. Uncaring, maybe, and yet… calming in a way.

Slightly reinvigorated, he went back to rowing until he passed out from exhaustion.

When he woke up in the morning, his throat was bone-dry. He tried to clear it, but all it achieved was sending him into a coughing fit that only made matters worse. He was parched, and there was nothing he could do about it. Hunger was also making itself known, but it was a less pressing concern. Dehydration was going to kill him much faster than starvation.

It took all his willpower to fall back into the routine. Row, don’t stop rowing, ignore the pain, then the numbness, the hopelessness that squeezed his heart like a clawed hand, piercing it, tormenting it. Ignore the shallowness of his breath. Ignore the dark spots dancing before his eyes. Ignore the thirst, the thirst, the thirst. Ignore the fast approaching lonely death.

Then he started slipping. With what little strength he had almost completely gone, even supported by magic, he wasn’t even pushing at the oars hard enough for the boat to gain considerable speed, and the gentle waves, while more welcome than a storm, weren’t of much help. His hands were shaking, his shoulders were locked in agony. He let out a sob, then another, until he broke down fully, still rowing, still fighting, even though there was no point. Tears were clouding his vision until he could barely see anything, and maybe he was going in circles, there were no stars guiding him after all, it was so hopeless.

With a frustrated groan, he fell backwards, hitting the bottom of the boat hard, staring at the heavy, overwhelming clouds hanging over him, as if the sky was threatening to come down and crush him. At least it would be a quicker death.

He shuddered. Despite his hopelessness, he still… he didn’t want to give up. He could still try. At night, maybe, when he could use the stars to navigate. Right now he just needed to rest.

His sleep was fitful, he tossed and turned, unsure whether he was waking up from time to time or simply dreaming. His headache was killing him, his body felt heavy like lead, and his heart had sunk deep into the ocean.

When night came, he opened his eyes, but saw no stars. The night sky was obstructed by clouds.

Before he knew it, he was crying again, dryly, because he was too dehydrated for tears. He really was going to die here, barely remembering who he was and not remembering his life, what had led up to this, at all. Not knowing whether anyone would search for him, miss him, mourn him. Alone, heartbroken and scared, with nothing and no-one to comfort him in his final moments.

Exhausted, Gienah allowed himself to fall back asleep, not knowing if he would wake up again.

[whumperofworlds]

Saw someone do this. Thought it would be fun!

End of year important people list (whump community edition!)

Reblog and tag all of your favorite whump creators, friends in the whump community, anyone in the whump community really, and let them know how much you care about them!

[submastrain]

Emmet keeps getting in situations--

[breezy-cheezy]

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive

This part really struck me, and I wanted to draw it! Luffy is just trying to protect his little family, and while the Lapins nearly got them killed, he still helps pull one out of the snow....because he recognizes they're trying to protect their family too. And I love that ;v;

BASICALLY A PANEL REDRAW here's the panel

[whump-in-the-closet]

a defiant whumpee dragged in front of whumper by henchmen. They're bleeding from their mouth and they lick the blood away before cursing whumper out.

And whumper only smiles. With a wave of their hand, one of the henchmen slaps whumpee across the face, and the other shoves them to their knees.

The message is clear.

Stay down.

They don't get the message

Whumpee tries to stand again, spitting vicious threats. Their knees are watery, threatening to give out on them.

Whumper shakes their head and whispers something to their henchmen.

Whumpee, shaking on their feet, can only watch as Caretaker is dragged-- literally dragged by their shirt collar-- and dropped beside them. Caretaker doesn't move, their breathing a ragged rise and fall. It's some semblance of life, without consciousness.

"Kneel," says Whumper.

Whumpee crashes to the ground, unable to look away from Caretaker. At their damaged hands and closed eyes, dirtied clothes, and matted hair.

Kneeling now?

Good.

"Don't cross me," murmurs Whumper and strokes the top of Whumpee's head, like one pets a stray dog just found.

Whumpee snarls but says nothing.

[defire]

Fun whumper/villain ideas

Content: beatings, gag, prisoners, torture

Gorgeous master--victim has an attraction to them when they're not actively getting hurt. And then whumper flips up their cane and whumpee snaps back to reality like "wtf was I thinking--this person is evil!"

Intellectual-- doesn't give enough fucks to be cruel or kind. They find whumpee interesting, listen intently to whumpee plead, then tell their subordinates to tie the gag back on and take them away.

Accidental Bond--whumper connects to whumpee secretly while trying to stay aloof (you're just a hostage/weapon/POW). But that would look bad. So they start protecting them from the others, but the whole time they degrading and hurt whumpee in front of the other whumpers, treat them just as badly or worse than the other whumpees... And whumpee can't be sure which side of them is fake.

Emotional Sadist--Whumper emotionally connects with victim. But then, whumper leans in, making eye contact, and instead of sympathy, they just purse their lips slightly, eyes moving down whumpee's face and trembling body. They absorb victim's pained state. They whisper calmly, "ask again, whumpee. On your knees this time."

Angry whumper--shoving and manhandling victim even if they're cooperating. Slapping them before they even finish a sentence because it's more satisfying to make them break off mid-sentence. Going into rages and just pummeling whumpee's body. Making sure victim will be there and waiting whenever whumper needs to burn off some fumes.

Tell me if you write or like whumpers like these! I love hearing about other people's ocs!

[brutal-nemesis]

whump enjoyers be like

[aspens-whump]

I'm so sad that nobody in my TTRPG group is into whump, because I imagine playing with other whump fans is a drastically different experience. Imagine...

GM: "Okay, your character takes 7 slashing damage, and---"

Player 1: "Ooh, ooh! Can I hide the injury from the other party members until it gets infected, forcing me to open up and be vulnerable around them?"

GM: "Oh, of course! Actually, just to make it whumpier, let's have it do 14 slash damage."

Player 1: "Yay! I clutch the wound and stifle a groan as I stumble forward, desperately gripping my sword."

Player 2: "Hehe, I really want my character to be there when yours collapses from the pain. It's gonna be so good..."

Player 3: "I'll be the tough caretaker who acts like they don't care at first but slowly reveals that they actually do! They'll be so devastated when they find out they let their friend get hurt, the guilt will eat them alive. <3"

Player 4, the only one who doesn't know what whump is: "Um, guys? I think the dragon is still, um... It's still wrecking the village. Maybe we should---"

GM: "Hold on, I wanna see where they're going with this. I need inspo for my fic."

[silverskye13]

Hello! I was just wondering but what would happen if Tanguish died for the last time/was running out of time right in front of Helsnight?

Good afternoon! You seem possessed of the desire for heartbreak! This made my hands shake to write, so thank you for that! If you need me I will be pretending it's the coffee jitters!

Helsknight has seen this before. It's been awhile since he's felt it so closely, though. The fainting. The listlessness. The lost time. He's seen it all before. Dead eyed paladins wandering like sleepwalkers through their tasks. The strong made weak by the jaws of the universe as they're eaten away. The long sleep. The watch for waking. The hopeless vigil. The waiting, waiting, waiting, for inevitability. The knowledge that soon, inexorably, like the setting sun, night was falling.

The sun would never rise again, and there would be no stars.

To be swallowed whole by something that doesn't care, that doesn't notice, what it's taking.

Tanguish sleeps more than he wakes now. He looks deceptively peaceful, laying there in bed. Helsknight moved him from the couch weeks ago. He deserves comfort. He deserves peace, and warmth. He deserves... Well. He deserves better. Helsknight can't give him better. Even if he knew what to give, he couldn't bring himself to leave Tanguish's side. Not anymore.

"I would fight the Universe for you if I could," Helsknight tells him, kneeling beside the bed during one more of those long, silent, lonely vigils. He has Tanguish's hand cupped in both of his, the scarred knuckles pressed to his lips. Helsknight doesn't cry. He never cries in front of Tanguish. It feels rude. Disrespectful. This isn't about him. If anything he is just a helpless bystander. He is not to be comforted. "I would pry back the jaws of the Universe if I could reach them in a way that mattered. You know I would."

Tanguish doesn't respond. He's been asleep for a long, long time. Helsknight knows the pattern. The ebb and flow. The drowning slip. Last time it took Tanguish days to wake. He doesn't think this time there will be a waking, but he waits for it anyway. All he has left now is the hope, however fleeting, to see those eyes flutter open, the tired smile and soft voice. Tanguish saying reasonably, as though Helsknight were making a big deal about nothing, "Why are you still here? I'm alright, Helsknight. You don't have to wait for me."

They talked about it, in that rare glimmer when Tanguish was lucid. Helsknight had explained what he knew of what was happening, what he'd seen. He explained the sleep would last longer. That if Tanguish didn't get himself killed, the Universe would simply take him one day, quietly, in his sleep. Tanguish had seemed relieved. He didn't want to die painfully. This was the best possible scenerio for someone who feared hurt and wounding. To slip away, unnoticed, uncaring. It had been a soft conversation, and it had taken all of Helsknight's strength not to be angry. Not to rage in the face of fear and loss. He wanted to be kind for Tanguish. He wanted his friend to leave thinking everything would be okay. He wanted him to feel loved, and looked after, and like the world would mourn his passing but not be broken by it.

This time, there will not be a waking. Helsknight can feel it in his bones. It makes his heart sick. He feels like, if he convulsed hard enough, his soul might vomit, riot out the tangle of emotions he has long grown weary of feeling, that stick in his ribs like claws.

This time, there will not be a waking.

[Tanguish always hated being a burden.]

Helsknight was broken. He sighed a lot. There was something wrong with his stomach and chest, like if he exhaled deeply, smoke and despair would come spooling out of his lungs. He wished he could purge the empty ache buried inside him, calm the nervousness of mourning. There was a little animal inside him that wanted to run, which felt his pain and fear and said something fatal must be happening, and fight or flight should move him to self preservation.

He couldn't bring himself to leave the house. Every moment they had left felt stolen.

Besides, he could run for the rest of his life and never outrun this. He could slay every god and saint in hels and it wouldn't change a thing. Impotence was a poison in his soul.

He felt sick.

"I'm sorry I couldn't fix it," Helsknight whispered, kissing Tanguish's hand gently. "I would have tried harder. You know I would have."

Tanguish had asked him, in one of those rare, lucid moments, not to bother Tango. Just let it happen, he'd said, brushing strands of hair out of Helsknight's face. It's okay, I'm not afraid.

Helsknight didn't know what time it was. He stopped caring about things like that awhile ago.

He kissed Tanguish's knuckles again, and wished he could pour his own life through his skin. Tanguish's hand was warm in his, he'd been holding it so long. It felt stupid, but he spent a lot of time washing his hands now. His hands and his hair. He put on lotion, and honey-scented oils, because Tanguish told him once his sealing wax made him feel safe, and this was the closest smell to it that he had ready. Every time Tanguish woke, he wanted him to be held in kind, gentle hands. To card his fingers through clean, soft hair. To smell safety and comfort. Helsknight kissed Tanguish's knuckles again. It was all he could do. It was all he could do.

Time crawled by like a wounded animal. Helsknight sat very still. He kissed Tanguish's hand when it seemed necessary, the gentle brush of lips against fingers that never moved. Sometimes he would press his thumb to Tanguish's pulse just to remind himself he was still alive, only sleeping. He didn't cry. He said only kind things; whispered poetry, soft platitudes. When his helpless anger abated and left him hollow, in the ebbs and tides it lived in, he prayed. They were hopeless, stupid prayers. He didn't know what to pray for anyway. Only the repeated mantra please, please, please, begging for his Saint to listen to... Something. Please save Tanguish. Please end the waiting soon. Please don't make Helsknight suffer the waiting alone. Please, if he must suffer this, take the feelings away. Take the pain away. Make it stop. Make it stop...

Helsknight knew he fell asleep only because he woke up hours later, and when he woke, he was alone. The bed was empty, blankets barely disheveled. Still, Helsknight was filled with the half-mad thought that Tanguish had woken and crept past him, leaving him to sleep. Helsknight got to his feet, joints protesting after so long waiting in stillness.

"Tanguish?" Helsknight called into the empty room, searching every corner, as though he would be hiding. "Tanguish you shouldn't be up by yourself. Where--?"

Helsknight rubbed sore eyes and walked into the living room. He felt disoriented, not all there, like he'd woken from a bad dream. His mind dragged behind his body, thoughts tilting haphazardly through sleep and stress. He was exhausted. Had he not been sleeping lately? Gods. It was hard to remember.

Helsknight looked quietly around the living room, suddenly confused as to why he'd come in here. He was looking for something... right? Something important. His hands were shaking. He felt sick. Something very, very important. His stomach twisted in knots. His chest hurt. Was he having a panic attack? Why in hels was he having a panic attack?

"I need to lay down," Helsknight said to no one, because no one else was here. When had he gotten into the habit of talking to himself? His chest hurt. He felt sick. He wanted to cry. What the fuck was wrong with him?

[Lost something. Lost something.]

Helsknight stumbled back into his room, his mind a hazy mess. His bed was an oasis of calm in a storm. He needed to lay down. He felt raw and wounded, like someone had reached hands inside him and started pulling out entrails. It was a despair so thick he wanted to vomit. He placed his hands on the bed, steadying himself, trying to convince himself if he could just crawl in--

The bed was cold. Colder than was normal. A tear rolled down his cheek. He could cry now. He was allowed to cry now. No one was here to see.

Why would someone be here? Why would he even need to cry? Helsknight rubbed at his face, and he searched his bed, his nightstand, for anything that made sense.

A little black stone, obsidian, hard to carve and harder to break. There was a name carved there that wasn't his. Memories that had been floating away like fading dreams, fast into the jaws of the void, slammed back into him so hard he staggered. It was a blow that should have killed him. He'd felt gentler wounds from blades in the Colosseum.

Helsknight's reaction was immediate. His breath left him, half gasp, half groan. And he was sobbing, great, wracking, gasping sobs that were halfway screams. Helsknight grabbed the little stone, carved with Tanguish's name, and clasped it to his chest. He clung to it like it could somehow pull Tanguish back to him, like it could tether his soul, already gone. Then Helsknight did scream, because his chest hurt, his soul hurt, and he was powerless, powerless, powerless to do anything about it.

"I didn't mean to forget," he sobbed, his whole body bent in apology, like a sinner at an altar. "I d-didn't mean to forget. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I--"

The night was long.

The world was dark.

Somewhere, a bright, bright star dimmed and died, and no one seemed to notice.

And the Universe said, I do not love you, for I did not make you

And the Universe said, You were never meant to exist, so you do not

And the Universe said, All is right with the world.

Isn't it?

[queenstarscream]

Fucked up idea. For like a human AU.

Orion putting the Megatronus sticker or Pin instead of a decal on D-16's jacket/shirt

Sentinal literally carving it into D's skin later on

Megatron giving himself a Tattoo of it at the end ( vs all the others getting it done somewhat pain free ).

I am not okay, no.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

tie a guy up references (more under the cut)

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

Slow Horses 4x02 (p2)

[hannahbarberra162]

Heat Transfer, Ch. 1

On Ao3

Summary: You're a half blood Sea Naga, happily living by yourself. Until a group of humans mistake you for a baby and kidnap you, taking you back to their ship. You're kept like a pet, but you need out of your gilded cage, and fast.

A special thank you to a wonderful Nonnie who not only inspired this work but is also beta-ing it.

I know X reader is a stretch since the reader is so specific. It's basically an OC written from second person.

Warnings: Soft / normal yandere, pet-ification, some whump, eventual romance.

~~~

The first thing that alerted you to their presence was the smell of a fire on your island. You’d been swimming earlier that day and had smelled a ship coming close, the distinct scent of old, well cared for timber carried by the currents, but that wasn’t anything new. Ships sailed near your isolated little sanctuary sometimes, but very rarely docked there. It was small and uninhabited, with few natural resources that sailors would want. It didn’t hurt that there were rumors that Sea Naga lived nearby, ones with a particular thirst for human flesh.

You lived on a normally pleasant summer island, but it was winter at the moment. It had been a particularly harsh winter, you’d had a hard time hunting and finding anything worthwhile lately. But it was almost over, spring would be coming soon and the fishing would get better. You were the thinnest you’d been in a long while, but you weren’t worried, you knew you’d make it through. You’d been doing it your whole life. You returned your gaze towards the direction of the fire, trying to smell how many humans had come. But following the scent of smoke came the most delicious, mouth watering, succulent smell you’d ever sniffed. It smelled like meat but better . You’d eaten meat cooked over the fire before, it was tasty. Your sisters preferred raw meat and fish but you tried to cook it if you could get enough brush for a decent fire. But nothing you’d made had ever smelled like this. 

Maybe if you ate enough of what they had you’d be able to gain weight before one of your sisters came to visit. They always brought you some kind of animal to feast on, but that was part of the problem. Your three older sisters were full blooded Sea Naga, they were large and strong and vicious and everything you wished you were. You, however, were only a half blood, half Sea Naga, half human. Your mother had abandoned you after your birth and Maela, Typha, and Tsuna took it upon themselves to raise you. They’d handpicked your island and brought you there when you were a baby. They taught you everything you knew, how to survive, how to hunt, how to strike at enemies. They even taught you some of the human words they knew, including your nickname “Baby.” You knew they loved you very dearly, as you did them. 

But you weren’t a baby anymore. You were a full grown adult, albeit a very tiny one in terms of Sea Naga. You felt stifled by them sometimes, but there wasn’t anything to do. You couldn’t leave the island, you’d be vulnerable to the cold and to other predators. You didn’t have a spear forged from an underwater volcano like they did, and you could barely control the waves. You had potent venom and agility in the water, but that wasn’t enough to make it on your own. So you stayed on the island, happy and lonely in equal parts. The smell wafted past you once more and you became more determined than before to put your hands on that meat. You needed to show your sisters that you could make it on your own, you didn’t need them coddling you anymore.

You surveyed the sky - it was going to be nightfall very soon. Since you were cold blooded, the night was a hard time for you. If you were caught out in the cold for a prolonged period, you’d lose your strength and fall asleep, freezing to death. Your sisters had always warned you about this time of day, about how tempting it was to leave the cave. They warned you it wasn’t worth it, that the risk was greater than the reward. But the smell was so alluring, it was calling to you like a siren song. Decision made, you wrapped yourself in your warmest furs and slithered to the entrance of your cave. Your cave was strategically chosen - the land path to get to it extremely narrow and water on both sides. Aquatic creatures wouldn’t be able to traverse the land and it was too narrow for most walking creatures to cross without falling into the water. Luckily for you, you could do both with ease.

Tongue flicking out, you found the trail and set off. You wanted whatever meat they had, and you were going to get it. Luckily, you had years of stalking animals under your belt, you knew you could watch the humans undetected.

Ace POV

“Someone’s watching us,” Ace said, mouth full of food. A group of Commanders were sitting near him on logs, enjoying a peaceful meal by the fire.

“Yeah, we know,” replied Thatch, not taking his eyes off the meat he was rotating over the fire.

“Well, don’t you want to see who it is?” Ace put his meat down for just a moment, trying to determine exactly where the other person was using his haki.

“No, yoi. There’s only one person and they’re not attacking. It doesn’t matter.” Marco said, indifferent to the situation. But Ace’s curiosity was piqued, he didn’t like unanswered questions.

“But there’s no one else on the island. No houses, no nothing. So who is it?” Ace continued.

“We don’t care,” replied Izou offhandedly, already drinking sake.

“I’m gonna go find out.” Ace declared, grabbing another skewer of meat.

“This is how those people die in the snail films we watch,” Thatch commented. “Someone thinks they hear something and go off into the woods and bam! They’ve been eaten by a Kraken.”

“Or a Sea King.” Added Vista.

“Or a Humandrill,” Izo chimed in. The Moby needed some variety in the snail films they watched, Ace thought to himself. Regardless, he started off to find whoever (or whatever) was watching, bringing his meat along for the ride. He didn’t want to search on an empty stomach, after all. It was a colder night, but Ace didn’t mind. He was literally made of fire, the chilly air wouldn’t bother him in the slightest. Tromping through the brush, he saw a worn path that someone had obviously used many times. Following it, he came to an open field edged by dense underbrush. He felt the gaze coming from behind the shrubs, but they weren’t quite big enough to conceal a person. 

He came closer to the shrubs and heard a soft hiss. Interesting, he thought. Normal snakes, no matter the size, weren’t enough to set off his observation haki. He’d heard there were Sea Naga in the area, which were definitely capable of setting off his haki. But Sea Naga were large, nearly as large as Sea Kings, and wouldn’t be able to hide in such surroundings. Intrigued, he put down one of his skewers near the brush and backed off. If nothing happened, he’d push forward. But he had a feeling that whoever was watching was more interested in his food than him. Not a sure bet, just a hunch. 

Ace backed off and concealed himself behind a dead tree. He watched and waited, used to this type of sting from his days with Luffy. The sky was completely dark, just the moon and stars providing light. Something darted out, grabbed the meat and quickly retreated. Ace pursued, curiosity still unsatisfied. What on the seas could it be? Ace ran but was a step behind whoever it was.

“Wait, who are you?” Ace asked while running. “I don’t want to hurt you!” Ace yelled, cupping his hand over his mouth. Marco was right, whoever it was wasn’t attacking, maybe they were just hungry. He could give them more food dammit, they just had to stop running. Er, slithering? As Ace started to gain on the other being, he realized it wasn’t exactly a human. The top half was, he could see the hunk of meat gripped in humanoid arms. But below the torso was the winding body of a Sea Naga. But Sea Naga were enormous, and he’d never heard of a pygmy Sea Naga before. Maybe it was a baby, trying to forage for food in the winter. Ace felt sympathy, he knew what it was like to struggle for food in the harsher months of the year. He ran faster, trying to catch up to the baby, not focusing on where he was going. The baby slithered towards a cave and in the dark of the night, Ace slipped on mud, falling into the cold water to his right.

Your POV

The human chasing you had fallen into the water. You leaned over the pool, watching bubbles rise. He’d chased you for the entire way back to your cave to your annoyance. You were hoping you’d be able to get the food and run, to see if you liked it and would survey for more later. But no, this human decided to chase you, maybe to hunt you. If one of your sisters were here, they’d have told you to fight him in the clearing, not to lead him back to your dwelling. But it was getting colder by the moment and your time was dwindling. You needed to be back in your cave under your furs or risk being frozen to death. You didn’t have the time to fight this human, and quite frankly, weren’t sure you’d win. He looked strong and seemed confident in his abilities. So you took your chances and slithered back to your cave, hoping the human would cease to follow. Which he did now that he’d fallen into the water. 

You thought humans could swim, you’d seen some of them doing it before. Maybe this one just didn’t know how, he was sinking down quickly and not even fighting it. Watching him drown, you bit into the meat in your hand. And, oh stars, you’d never had anything like it. It tasted like the stars above were being born in your mouth, like heaven was showing you its celestial favor. It was juicy, tender, succulent, and from an animal you couldn’t place. You unhinged your jaw and swallowed the rest whole, not wanting another second between you and the immaculate meat in your hand. You licked your fingers with your forked tongue, savoring every droplet of residual flavor before slinking into the pool to get the human. If you saved his life, he would want to get you more meat. Or you’d make him. Anything to get that taste again. 

You easily caught up to his sinking form, you were much faster in the water than on land. His limbs and hair were flowing freely in the water as the last few bubbles escaped his lips. Curling your tail around his midsection, you swam up back to the top, bringing him with you. Breaching the top of the water, you pulled the two of you into your cave. Your cave was small but homey, you’d been working on it for years. Obviously, it had no windows, but you’d smoothed the floor with stones to give a pleasant cool feeling on your scales. You had a few baskets you’d made, furs from animals you or your sisters had hunted, your knife, and various bones your sisters had given you as gifts. You even kept a small remnant from your first molting. You tried to keep your cave somewhere you enjoyed being, since you had to spend so much time in it during the winter.

There were small hydrothermal vents in the water near your cave, meaning the water was warm in some spots. Now that you were out of the water though, you were freezing. You left the human on the ground, you knew they were warm blooded and you’d have more time to help him undrown or whatever they called it. You quickly threw off the now drenched fur you’d been wearing, and gathered every warm skin you had in the cave. Wrapping yourself up, you heard the human coughing up water. Looking at your fully covered form and his naked torso, you sighed, knowing you’d have to give up at least one fur for the human to survive. You slithered over to him, unwrapping the bottom most fur around the paddled tip of your tail. 

You had excellent night vision, you didn’t need the sun to see what he looked like. If you stretched out, you were nearly as long as the human. You hadn’t seen a human up close before, you’d only seen sailors from afar. You’d never actually seen any male up close either, now that you thought about it. Male Sea Naga were half the size of female Naga and rather timid. Your sisters would never allow a male near your island and would kill any who tried. You were pretty sure it was a man, it didn’t have breasts like you and your sisters. You took your time inspecting him. He had markings on his face, chest and upper arms, little dots that reminded you of the sea shore. He had short black hair unlike your own longer blonde locks. His arm had some kind of writing, but your sisters never taught you human letters, only Naga. On his back there were some bones crossed over a face, it looked like some of the flags on the ships. His ears were little and not very sensitive, you decided after putting a claw carefully in one. Overall, he was acceptably good looking. Different and a little alien, but alright. He was breathing evenly, you saw no need to wake him. 

As you covered him in the fur, you made an incredible discovery. This human was hot . Not warm, not toasty, but hot. Your sisters always told you humans were a little above room temperature when eaten, but not this warm. He was already dry, having burned off the moisture from his body heat. You were pretty sure this wasn’t normal for humans, but you weren’t going to look a Sea King in the mouth. Practically wriggling in excitement, you wrapped yourself around him trying to maximize the amount of your surface area touching him. You wanted to absorb as much of his body heat as you could so you took off all your furs. You didn’t need them being this close to the fire man. Being near this human felt like basking on the most blistering part of a black rock on a scorching day in the middle of summer. You wound yourself around him carefully, making sure not to constrict his breathing. Between the blaze of a man you were wrapped around, the delicious meal you’d had, and your long day, you were practically a puddle. You felt your eyelids drift close, and you snuggled your arms tighter around the human. He smelled very pleasant too, like a fire made from driftwood. You’d decide what to do with him when you woke up. You could always bite and asphyxiate him later if you needed to. 

Ace POV

Blinking his eyes, Ace determined he hadn’t died, which was always positive. The last thing he remembered was the creature watching him drown with a neutral expression. Obviously, the creature had brought him back to the surface and to its cave. He studied the creature now wound around him a little closer.

He had been right, it was a baby Sea Naga. It was extremely thin, skin stretched tight over its ribs. It looked emaciated, like it wouldn’t survive through the winter. It was tenderly wound all the way around his body, probably relishing in his body heat since it was cold blooded. It wasn’t constricting him, it was softly snoring in his arms contentedly. Its little forked tongue was flicking out every so often, and a long ear would twitch when his arm brushed against it. It was…cute. Its top half was humanoid, looking like a sad lost child with long tangled blonde hair. The bottom half was consistent for Sea Naga, a muscled black and white striped tail ending in a paddle-like tip. It was fast on land, but underwater it would be like lightning. It gripped him tighter in the throes of whatever dream it was having. 

Ace felt pity for the creature. It was obviously starving and wasn’t going to survive without intervention. And it had saved his life, for no obvious reason. Ace wanted to find the rest of the crew and see what they thought about adopting the little Naga. He could probably convince them that they could tame it and keep it. Though rare, Sea Naga were extremely powerful and were known to be highly intelligent. Once grown, they could control the waves and were fierce warriors. If they treated it right, it would fight for them in the water once it grew. Decision made, Ace carefully sat up, holding onto the baby with his arms. He rested its head on his shoulder, almost like when he would carry Luffy when he was a kid. It didn’t stir, so Ace picked up the loops of its tail and stood up. Ace frowned at the weight of the creature. The baby was very light, it needed to be fed a nutrient rich diet if they wanted it to live. 

Ace walked to the entrance of the cave and looked around. He couldn’t see the fire anymore, he’d run after the baby for quite a bit. Instead, he chose to use his haki to assist in locating his siblings. Finding where he needed to go, he began the trek back to his brothers, to show them his incredible find and convince them they needed to keep it. 

Your POV

You were on the move. Well, you weren’t, but the human now holding you was. Groggily waking up from one of the best rests you’d ever had, you reared back, preparing to bite the human. But he just patted your head gently and said something in human language to you with a smile. Taken aback by his demeanor, you looked at him quizzically while he continued to talk to you, like you understood him. You didn’t know human, only a few words your sisters had taught you, so you weren’t sure what he was telling you. Looking around, you realized several things very quickly. It was the middle of the night, you were far from your cave, it was cold outside, and you didn’t have your furs. Like it or not, the only way you’d survive the night was if you continued to be held by the fireman. He was still producing heat, enough to make you comfortable in the cold night. You would never ever admit it to your sisters, but you were scared. You had never been at the mercy of someone else before and it wasn’t a feeling that you liked. The man was taking you back to where the other humans were and you weren’t sure you could get away from them all. You tried to think about what your sisters would do, but they would probably laugh and swallow the men whole without a second thought. 

The fireman was talking to you incessantly and rubbing your back. Maybe it was a human thing, but it felt alright. Your sisters weren’t often physically affectionate with you, but that was their way. He carried you towards the men, who perked up at his arrival. They were animatedly talking amongst themselves, probably about you.  You so desperately wanted to leave, to never see these humans again, but if the fireman put you down you wouldn’t be able to get back to your cave before dying. You were stuck. You’d have to wait until daytime when it would be warm enough to escape. You just had to outlast them for the night, that was all. 

One of the men in particular was activating your fight or flight. There wasn’t anything abnormal about him, he looked like the rest of them. But something about him reminded you of a bird of prey, like the stories of harpies your sisters had told you during your childhood. They hadn’t wanted you leaving the island or wandering too far from your cave, so they told you stories of harpies, half human half birds, who preyed on Sea Naga foolish enough to ignore the warnings of their sisters. You believed them when you were a kid, but not anymore. He looked at you and you reared back, hissing. He raised an eyebrow and spoke to the fireman, who held you even tighter when responding.

One of the men came towards you with a curious but open expression on his face and something in his closed hand. He smelled the best out of all of them, like the meat you had in your belly. He opened his hand to reveal more of the meat and held it out to you expectantly. You waited a moment to see what was going to happen, but he didn’t move. You tentatively reached out to take it, and he cooed at you to continue. You swiped the meat quickly and shoved it all in your mouth, swallowing it whole. You flicked your tongue to his outstretched hand, trying to find more, but you’d eaten it all. Fireman patted your head, which was getting irritating. Your sisters had done that a few times when you were young, but not constantly. The meatman reached for you again, but this time without food. You weren’t expecting it, and instinct kicked in. You bit him.

Ace POV

“Ow! Goddammit!” Thatch yelled, yanking his hand back. He was shaking it as blood trickled out of two puncture wounds. 

“It’s not her fault, you startled her!” Ace yelled back, gripping the baby tighter. He was pretty sure Baby was a girl but it was hard to tell. Most Sea Naga were female, but not much was known about them. Not many people encountered them and lived to tell the tale. 

“I’m not saying it's her fault, I’m just saying it hurt. Actually, it doesn’t anymore. My hand is completely numb. And it's spreading.” Thatch was pinching his forearm with his other hand, trying to determine where the sensation ended. Marco leaned forward, now interested. The first Commander had been the biggest opponent to bringing her on the ship. Marco said that it was a bad idea, that pets were a lot of work, that Ace was already busy, and lots of other things Ace didn’t really listen to him. Ace knew in his heart he needed to save Baby and he was going to do it. 

“Really, that quickly yoi?” Marco asked, moving towards Thatch. The baby curled tighter around Ace, hiding her face in Ace’s neck. Ace cradled her head with a hand, soothing her.

“Yeah, check it out, almost my whole arm is numb now.” Without warning, Marco used a talon to slice open Thatch’s arm, blood pouring out of the wound. Before Thatch reacted, Marco healed it just as quickly. 

“Oi! What if I wasn’t numb? Coulda used a heads up,” grumbled Thatch. The little baby was shaking, wound so tight she was almost cutting off Ace’s circulation. Poor thing.

“Can you feel your arm now yoi? Now that I’ve healed you?” Marco asked, still prodding Thatch’s arm. He ignored Thatch’s question completely. 

“Nope, still numb, and I can’t move it.” Thatch said, swinging his numb arm.

Marco whistled.  “I’ve changed my mind yoi. Bring her on the ship. I want to extract some of that venom. It’s a powerful anesthetic.” 

Ace grinned. “See? She’s already useful. And this is only her baby form, imagine how powerful her venom will be when she gets older. Besides, we can’t leave her, right Thatch? Look how hungry she is, she’s practically bones. She’s gonna need someone to feed her back to health.” Ace knew he was manipulating the chef, but Thatch didn’t need much convincing. 

“How could we leave this tiny little baby behind? To starve and freeze to death on this wasteland of an island? Of course she’s coming with us,” said Thatch, almost offended at the thought of leaving her. Ace smiled and rubbed his face on the top of the baby’s head.

“Alright, I’ll take her back to the Moby now. She’s coldblooded and it’s cold yoi,” said Marco, turning to Ace.

Baby POV

You regretted ever ignoring your sisters. You regretted every time you told them they were overprotective, that they were overbearing, that you were independent. You wished you had listened to their advice and had stayed in your cave during the evening. Because they were right. Harpies were real. 

The man who set your fangs on edge transformed into a Harpy straight from your nightmares as a child. Now you understood why the fireman brought you back. This was all a trap and you were too stupid to see it. They were going to feed you to the Harpy. Small Sea Naga were a favored treat for Harpies, according to your sisters. Even though it meant your death, you quickly unfurled from the fireman and tried to slither away as fast as you could. Which unfortunately wasn’t very fast due to the cold. But you weren’t going to stay and become Harpy food and meet a humiliating death. You tried to run but the Fireman caught you by the end of your tail. He was talking to you, looking confused as you thrashed, trying to get away. You tried constricting as well but it was to no avail. The more you fought, the more tired you became until you barely had any fight left in you. The fireman frowned at you and patted your head once more. You would have bit him if you could have mustered the energy. 

The Harpy transformed into its full bird form, frightening you into a final burst of energy to make an escape. Unfortunately it caught you in a talon immediately, gripping you by the end of your tail, leaving you to dangle pathetically as it took flight. The fireman was in the other talon, watching you with interest. You had to hand it to them, they got you. You just hoped your sisters found them and killed them, their crew, and sunk their ship in your honor. 

The Harpy climbed higher into the sky and it was too cold for you to bear. You’d never been this frozen in your life. The air itself was chilled but you were now being whipped by winds as you were flown to the Harpy’s nest. You knew you’d pass out soon, you weren’t meant for these temperatures. You let out one loud sad hiss as you lost consciousness. At least they’d given you a tasty last meal.

Aces POV

Ace felt bad as he watched the baby pass out. He knew she was confused and scared, unsure why they were taking her. The lack of heat was probably uncomfortable for her but Marco assured Ace she’d be OK. Marco was giving them a lift back to the ship, which was better than the long walk and ride on the dinghy they would have had to take. The baby did not like Marco specifically - Ace wasn’t sure why. She’d gone wild when Marco transformed, and even worse when they’d taken flight. Ace was going to make sure she was comfortable in the crate they would set up for her. Lots of blankets, pillows, heating pads, anything he could find to make her feel warm. He would have slept next to her again but he had a feeling she wouldn’t be happy when she woke up and he didn’t want to be bitten. She would get used to them, to being on the ship. She’d come to love them, he thought, and they’d love her too.

[whumperoni-and-wheeze]

[A] breaks a limb after a post-apocalyptic event. [B], [C], and [D] have to reset it, despite protest from [A].

[B] and [C] hold them down, [B] holds their hand over [A]'s mouth to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to their ramshackle fortress.

[D] has to disinfect their wounds, reset the bones, splint the limb, etc.

The break is severe enough to almost send [A] into shock, and [B] has to keep them focused on something else, anything else.

"Hey, hey [A], look at me, alright? That's it, just keep lookin at my eyes, you're gonna be fine."

"Breathe through your nose, [A], you can't hold your breath through this."

"HEY, no, don't look! It'll hurt worse, trust me."

"You're doing great [A], we need to stitch the wound now."

"Hey, HEY, don't start passing out on us, you're gonna be fine ok?"

[bettylovespeter]

Omg I had to find the original panel to compare