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Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker (2019)
My GIF masterlist
#star wars#the rise of skywalker#star wars rise of skywalker#poe dameron#oscar isaac#whump#whump gifs#held at gunpoint#ltwbstarwars#ltwboscarisaac
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So the monster has decided to use you as a teddy bear.
#g/t#giant tiny#giant/tiny#my art#oc: hecate#oc: poe#idk if i should move them to the whump blog. probably. but this is the blog i use more#also whoops lazy about scale.#g/t art
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This or That Gothic Edition Snippet 22- Secret Cellar
Inspired by my answers for this post by @blackrosesandwhump!
Whumpee crept down through the cellar of the ancient house. It was at least a hundred years old, and the lichen grew on the stone walls in thick patches. It was in the middle of Carnival, and Whumpee’s friend had dared them to explore the cellar and bring back a bottle of wine as proof. Whumpee gulped and shuddered as a chill rushed through them. After what seemed like forever, they reached the bottom of the cellar. There was a small bit of wall that jutted out oddly. Whumpee paid it no mind, until they heard the muffled sound of chains rattling and a strange jingling.
Whumpee froze. They grabbed an old, dusty bottle from the wine rack. Amontillado. Sure, whatever. It didn’t matter what kind of wine it was, as long as it was, in fact, wine. Whumpee was ready to race back up when they heard it.
“LET ME OUT! FOR THE LOVE OF-”
Whumpee turned. Was someone… in there? Whumpee cautiously approached the patch of wall.
“Hello?” Whumpee asked.
“HELLO?”
Dear gosh. Someone was in there.
“S-stay there,” Whumpee said, then realized how stupid that sounded, “I-I’m going to get you out!”
“OH, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!”
Whumpee looked around for something they could use. Old mason’s tools lay at the foot of the wall, long since abandoned. Whumpee saw it then. A sledgehammer, very old but still in good condition. Whumpee lifted it, slamming it into the wall.
It took quite a few tries but the masonry eventually crumbled.
“Okay, let’s get you out of-”
Whumpee felt a scream die in their throat.
Skeletal remains lay in the crypt, bound in chains and wearing a jester’s hat with little bells on the ends. Whumpee stumbled back, breathing coming in quick and ragged. They turned, running up and out of the cellar.
“WAIT! WAIT! DON’T LEAVE ME! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME! IT’S BEEN SO LONG! PLEASE!”
It had been fifty years since the crypt had been disturbed. The mason responsible would never be found. In pace requiescat!
...
As you've probably guessed, this was a fanmade sequel to Edgar Allan Poe's The Cask of Amontillado. Great piece of gothic horror, still scares me from time to time! I hope you enjoyed it!
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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog
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#gothic whump snippets#sorry it's short#writeblr#writing#creative writing#not exactly whump#more like horror#left for dead#edgar allan poe#snippet#gothic horror#fanfic#technically fanfiction
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Glass Eden - Entertainment
(next)
your pet lady-snake can have a little borrower, as a treat contains: giant/tiny (size difference), non-human whumpee (borrower and lamia/naga, both tiny), captivity, pet trope, dehumanization, forced to fight, communication barrier note: this is the same the piece posted on my other blog as "Snake Tank", but I'm moving the story over to this blog so I don't have to worry about """crossing a line"""" or whatever taglist @whumpsday
Poe
I threw myself against the glass one last, futile time as I heard the door on the far side of the study creak open. My fingers nearly brushed the lip of the prison I’d been placed in, nearly caught onto that ledge that might let me pry open the lid and make an escape. I was still in the air when I felt his eyes land on me. My fur stiffened as his heavy footsteps approached. His towering form blocked out what sunlight had filtered through the closed window as he sat at his desk.
“You quit that, now. You know you aren’t getting out. Unless you’d like to try speaking with me again?”
I turned to face him rather than wait for him to spin the jar I was sitting in. I slunk to the floor, drawing up my knees as if they could shield me from his eyes. He looked annoyed this time, rather than intrigued. I shook my head and stared at my hands. It wasn’t as if I would want him to dump me into his cold hands even if he wasn’t upset. I was bruised enough.
“I don’t have anything else to say. Sir,” I said.
He rolled his eyes.
“There's no one else!" I insisted. “It’s just me, the others ran away months ago, I’m the only one left.”
It wasn’t the truth, though by now it was close. The Copper family had moved out after Mellie reported that the master of the house was now collecting dangerous, exotic pets in his showroom. It was just the most stubborn of us left, or the most foolish.
“What to do with you, then?” the master of the house hummed.
He tapped a finger on the glass thoughtfully, right behind my head, in case I needed the reminder that my skull was no larger than the tip of his finger. I grimaced and looked back up at his face, where his wide lips twisted into a grotesque smirk. I closed my eyes as they curled back and revealed his teeth. My stomach twisted as he kept talking.
“My …friends tell me your kind is more trouble than you’re worth, more often than not. But perhaps I could get some entertainment out of you?”
“Let me go, please. I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again,” I begged.
“Oh, but I do believe you owe me, little thief. How long have you been squatting here, hm?”
I slumped and curled in on myself. I had thought maybe, just maybe, if this guy cared for a zoo of strange animals, he might have a thread of compassion hiding in his oversized heartstrings. I’d—god, I had bet my life on it, hadn’t I? And now I was going to pay up.
Entertainment.
~~~
Hecate
A hand lifted away the log that I’d been curled up under.
I flinched awkwardly at the sudden light, then rolled to face the front of my enclosure. The man liked it when I “looked” at him. I couldn’t tell if he knew I was blind or not. All my eyes told me was that there was a large, blurry shadow standing over the tank. It could’ve been a tree, for all my eyes could understand.
I knew it was him though. I could sense his blazing warmth through other means. More importantly, I could smell him.
Then, the hands. The nice hands. The man. Hugh Morton.
I smelled something else, too, something new. Another person, maybe? I listened intently for another heartbeat, another guest. I didn’t want to be shown off right now. I wanted to go back to sleep.
His hand reached back down to ruffle my hair, then run a rough finger across my scales. He rumbled something about feeding and I slumped back down to crawl back to bed. I wasn't hungry enough to want to fight and for all the good these hands did, they never killed my meals for me like the last ones did.
"Don't be so fussy, Hecate, I’m giving you a treat,” he chided. The ground shook as he flicked a finger against the glass wall. “You must get bored lying around in there all night.”
I huffed and and backed into a better position, against the side of one of my ceramic caves. I was still nursing a bite on my flank from my last meal.
I licked the air and frowned as Hugh slid open one half of the wall. This prey was not a creature I knew. Hugh’s hands dangled a warm shadow by a long tail, then flicked it into the soil. The prey squeaked as it landed but didn’t smell like a rat or any other rodent I’d encountered before.
It did smell afraid.
It already understood it was being hunted. I didn’t like that. Scared meals fought back. I had scars to prove it.
Hugh scoffed in annoyance as the creature scrambled towards the opening in the glass. He knocked it back into the enclosure several times while I waited for a chance to strike.
“Don't make me break your legs," Hugh sighed.
The creature stopped moving. Strange. Its little heart was hot and hammering. Was it trained? Why would anyone take the time to train food? Maybe it was simply afraid of Hugh’s voice.
I took advantage of its stillness and lunged. It turned to run in the split-second before we collided. It slammed into one of my open arms. I fumbled as it flailed, then got myself curled around it anyway.
It felt strange against my scales. Not furry. Not naked. Synthetic. Was it wrapped? Humans wrapped their food, but not mine. They used those crinkling papers. This was wrapped in something soft.
Was it clothed?
I hesitated in my confusion and the prey bit back. Something long and sharp stabbed in between two ventral scales. I flinched, hissing, and the prey slipped away. It left the sharp thing behind, but it didn’t bleed. I put a hand on the sharp thing and realized it wasn’t a tooth. It had some kind of handle. Plastic. The point was metal. Some kind of tiny knife? I swayed uncertainly and let the little creature run.
What was he feeding me?
~
Poe
It had never occurred to me that there might be peoples other than humans and my own kind living in this world. I wished I had the time to find out more about her.
The caged creature I had been placed with was, as most things were, comparatively massive. Its front was that of a vaguely humanoid woman, small, but still more than twice the size of my own top half. Her eyes were vacant and unfocussed. She was pale, fat, and lined with scars that told me she had much more experience than myself in fighting.
The bulk of her body was what truly scared me. She was a python that trailed lazily across the near half of the terrarium. She was coiled, so I could only guess at her true length, but her girth was easy to make out. I regularly crawled through tunnels narrower than this snake, making it all too easy to understand what would happen to me. That the master of the house had returned my thumbtack seemed like a joke. I had no prayer here. This would be a cruel combination of all the worst deaths I'd been taught to fear—caught, crushed, and consumed.
As entertainment!
I wanted to refuse him the satisfaction. I let myself lie down and cry as the master of the house threw me back into the dirt with an unambiguous threat. I might as well. No one else would know to mourn me for weeks, even months.
It would turn out that my inborn will to survive was stronger than my desire to spite the host I'd lived under for so many years. I rolled out of the way, only a split second too late, as the snake woman pounced. She caught me in the crook of her elbow then shoved me into a wall of scaled muscle. The python whipped around me before I could take a breath. I barely had the space to think, never mind resist. It was sheer luck that wedged my thumbtack between two plates of her underbelly.
And it was enough. She spasmed and let go of me.
I fell forward into the dirt, coughing to refill my aching lungs. I don’t think she had left any part of me unbruised, though didn’t waste time taking inventory of my injuries.
“Hey, don’t let it get away now, girl, get up!"
I scowled up at the master of the house as I pushed onto my feet. There was nowhere for me to get away to, not while he was leering over the open door.
I didn't understand him.
I didn't understand how a thinking creature such as himself, with all his power and all his resources, would resort to blood sport for entertainment. The study I'd spent my life beneath had a beautiful library. Page after page told of the world's endless mysteries, of beauty and majesty and life for him to go out and pursue. And he would choose to spend his time watching some monster eat me alive.
I saw the snake-woman moving out of the corner of my eye. My stomach twisted at the utter silence of her movement over the dirt even before she started sliding towards me, and then it was like a switch went off in my head. Gone was higher thought, blown away by the sheer force of the ancient instinct to run.
The terrarium was full and well-decorated, with plenty of greenery both faux and alive as well as several dark spaces to hide. I doubted any would shelter me, this place had been built for her.
I had nowhere to go and I ran and I ran and I hit the glass and I ran and there was a branch so I climbed it and I reached the ceiling and there was more glass and I turned around and there she was crawling after me and I jumped and her hand brushed my leg and I kicked and she fell around me like an avalanche and it was over.
Her long body surrounded me and as soon as I moved, she struck. Walls of scales encased me again and this time, no tack would save me. Everything went dark.
Several seconds passed. She loosed her grip. I heard the master’s muffled voice droning through her flank. I took a breath and shuddered. Long minutes of silence passed and the knot she’d wrapped me in fell away.
I admit I didn’t know much about snakes, but she didn’t seem to be very good at this.
I sprung to my feet, desperate to get at least a few inches between us again, but her hand wrapped around my face. She grabbed the back of my shirt’s neckline with her other hand and I thrashed as she pulled me off the ground.
Slowly, her palm pulled away from my face. She rubbed two fingers over my eyes, traced the curve of my nose, and drew a thumb across my lips. I bit down as hard as I could. She barely flinched, just wiped a little blood off on the side of my face.
“Beb?” she croaked.
Her blank eyes narrowed in concentration as her tongue flicked out of her mouth and brushed against my nose. Tasting me. Her lips twitched. I felt cold.
“No, please! Please, please, please, kill me first, please,” I cried.
She tilted her head to the side. Her tongue flickered twice more and both times I flinched. She babbled something in a tortured voice.
“Please,” I begged. “If you can even understand me, please, just kill me before you eat me. I don’t want to suffer.”
She frowned and hissed several times. My blood trembled through my veins. She slowly shaped her tongue around some word I did not know. She patted my head and sighed, then set me gently on the dirt beside her and slithered away.
~
Hecate
The prey had the face of a person.
The little thing was clever enough to talk, but not smart enough to understand me. They were small like a hatchling. They ran on legs like a bird.
They screamed and cried so once Hugh gave up on watching me eat, I let the little one have some space, whatever they were.
I hoped they would come back to me. They were very warm. Like the sun, but in a person. Like food. Like Hugh.
Like this lovely little cave in the back of the tank. I curled up and burrowed into myself for a cozy rest.
I hoped they wouldn’t try to kill me while I slept.
#are borrowers even prominent enough that a non gt audience knows what that means? I don't remember.#whump#whumpblr#whump writing#my writing#p: glass eden#oc: poe#g/t#g/t whump#tiny whump#oc: hecate#lamia#tiny whumpee#tiny#naga#this is probably a terrible time of day to post idc
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goretober day 4: ocean
are you buried in ice caps?
goretober day 5: betrayal
when you can't stand your new roomie🤪
prompts by @l0vely-w0undss @shocked-collar
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.... idk how that happened.
this is whump so mind the tags pls and ty
1/1 chapters; 2765 words
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A trope that I've always liked and I think isn't used enough is coming round from anesthetic.
I thought it would be good for Lucy. She has braces in her first appearance in the show so I am assuming she has crooked teeth. I headcanon she had to have her wisdom teeth removed and Poe went with her. He has to deal with her all loopy and drive her home
anon I love you for this I think this is the first Lucy related headcanon I've received here and I love it so muchhhh I love her 😭 I do really love the idea of Poe looking after her in general even though we never see them interact I think it'd be very entertaining bc of the strong vs weak personalities between the two of them, and him taking care of her, he'd be so frazzled lol 😭 maybe at first her recovery is all fine but a few hours into it after the drugs wear off she's miserable and crying and Poe is like AHHH please don't cry what do I doooo😭😭😭
#thats his daughter now#i need more platonic guild interactions#or really...any guild interactions lmao#bsd headcanons#lucy#poe#the guild#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd#surgery#whump#ask box
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I finished Bungo Stray Dogs
And I remembered why I don't finish things
GOSH THE EMOTIONAL HIT AT THE END GOT ME SCREAMING HERE
BECAUSE IT CAME OUT OF F U C K I N G N O W H E R E
LIKE WTF??????
Fukuzawa was there, sad because his childhood friend died and everything, and I was already not expecting that his final goal was to fucking start world peace or whatever (i honestly find his methods questionable) and then he tried destroying the One Order, couldn't and Ranpo comes closer and says something in the lines of "You can't... That's the 'curse' you inflicted upon yourself." And then he cries, I cry, you cry, the ending theme ends with me singing along and thinking "well that was an enjoyable ride, I'd go again, pretty gay if you want my opinion," and BUM, the narrator goes:
"Two hours later:"
And guess what, crazy moon god is there attacking Atsushi our boy, Akutagawa comes in and saves him--his design got an U P D A T E and nobody warned me--and they're like "heh, seems like we've gotta finish that tale Fukichi bitch started right" and Atsushi's like "But just the two of us?" and I'm like "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE TWO OF YOU" and Akutagawa is like "Heh,
do we need anything else?"
And then they fucking GO and it explodes and I'm like WHAT THE FUCK and then the fucking thing just pops
"This is not the end."
I need a minute
#tw swearing#bungo stray dogs spoilers#bungou stray dogs spoilers#bsd spoilers#im SCREAMING#bsd#bungo stray dogs#osamu dazai#nakahara chuuya#akutagawa ryuunosuke#nakajima atsushi#not whump#anime tag#yea i need a tag for this#that was unexpected#oh boy#and i found out most if not all of the characters have names of famous japanese authors and i did catch the reference with anne and lucy#and e. a. poe moby dick and some others#but THIS one#unexpected#and pretty gay if you want my opinion (joking)#talky tag
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3057ec8bdab2570294eccc1aee358f8a/1a02f38962941e7e-ff/s640x960/0ccbc2d088c4389c8339cefb085f4c47554d2914.jpg)
The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allen Poe, 1962 ed. published by Brown, Watson Ltd.
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THE NATIONAL (FT. PHOEBE BRIDGERS)
OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT
#fuck fuck fucken fuck i cannot listen right now i am with PEOPLE!!!#am i gonna whump later? 👀 tell me poe will i whump?#new the national song dropped nfhdhdh
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WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST
Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!
Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
This year's playlist can be found here.
The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.
And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.
We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2024 Prompt List
No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK
Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)
No. 2: TRUST ISSUES
Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)
No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE
Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."
No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS
Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)
No. 5: SUNBURN
Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)
No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED
Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."
No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES
Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."
No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION
Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)
No. 9: OBSESSION
Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)
No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD
Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."
No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE
Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)
No. 12: STARVATION
Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."
No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY
Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)
No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD
Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)
No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA
Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"
No. 16: NECROSIS
Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."
No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO
Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."
No. 18: REVENGE
Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)
No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL
Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)
No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST
Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."
No. 21: BODY HORROR
Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)
No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES
Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."
No. 23: FORCED CHOICE
Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."
No. 24: RADIATION POISONING
Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)
No. 25: SURGERY
Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."
No. 26: NIGHTMARES
Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)
No. 27: VOICELESS
Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”
No. 28: DENIAL
CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."
No. 29: FATIGUE
Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"
No. 30: RECOVERY
Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"
No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP
Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)
Alternatives List:
Body Swap
Communication Barrier
Finding Old Messages
Forgotten
Friendly Fire
Motion Sickness
No-Holds-Barred Beatdown
Regret
Secrets Revealed
Shivering
Survivor's Guilt
Time Loop
Used As Bait
Venom
Vermin
Event Info & Rules
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!
In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:
#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)
#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.
Frequently Asked Questions
Please read this before you send an ask!
TIMELINE
July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.
PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION
Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.
PROMPTS
Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.
WORKS
Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.
POSTING
Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).
Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!
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Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker (2019)
My GIF masterlist
#star wars#the rise of skywalker#star wars rise of skywalker#poe dameron#oscar isaac#whump#whump gifs#quicksand#fear#falling#ltwbstarwars#ltwboscarisaac
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snake tank (part one maybe?)
little snake lady can have a borrower. as a treat. ~2100 words cw: captivity, dehumanization, neglect, cruelty, violence, fear, pet…treatment? - I don’t want to call it pet trope because that implies sentient pets are normalized and this is weird and awful in-universe as well. not actually vore! idc if you interact from that side of tumblr, but you'll be disappointed if that's what you're hoping for
Poe
I threw myself against the glass one last, futile time as I heard the door on the far side of the study creak open. My fingers nearly brushed the lip of the prison I’d been placed in, nearly caught onto that ledge that might let me pry open the lid and make an escape. I was still in the air when I felt his eyes land on me. My fur stiffened as his heavy footsteps approached. His towering form blocked out what sunlight had filtered through the closed window as he sat at his desk.
“You quit that, now. You know you aren’t getting out. Unless you’d like to try speaking with me again?”
I turned to face him rather than wait for him to spin the jar I was sitting in. I slunk to the floor, drawing up my knees as if they could shield me from his . He looked annoyed this time, rather than intrigued. I shook my head and stared at my hands. It wasn’t as if I would want him to dump me into his cold hands even if he wasn’t upset. I was bruised enough.
“I don’t have anything else to say. Sir,” I said.
He rolled his eyes.
“There's no one else!" I insisted. “It’s just me, the others ran away months ago, I’m the only one left.”
It wasn’t the truth, though by now it was close. The Copper family had moved out after Mellie reported that the master of the house was now collecting dangerous, exotic pets in his showroom. It was just the most stubborn of us left, or the most foolish.
“What to do with you, then?” the master of the house hummed.
He tapped a finger on the glass thoughtfully, right behind my head, in case I needed the reminder that my skull was no larger than the tip of his finger. I grimaced and looked back up at his face, where his wide lips twisted into a grotesque smirk. I closed my eyes as they curled back and revealed his teeth. My stomach twisted as he kept talking.
“My …friends tell me your kind is more trouble than you’re worth. But perhaps I could get some entertainment out of you?”
“Let me go, please. I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again,” I begged.
“Oh, but I do believe you owe me, little thief. How long have you been squatting here, hm?”
I slumped and curled in on myself. I had thought maybe, just maybe, if this guy cared for a zoo of strange animals, he might have a thread of compassion hiding in his oversized heartstrings. I’d—god, I had bet my life on it, hadn’t I? And now I was going to pay up.
Entertainment.
~
Hecate
A hand lifted away the log that I’d been curled up under.
I flinched awkwardly at the sudden light, then rolled to face the front of my enclosure. The man liked it when I “looked” at him. I couldn’t tell if he knew I was blind or not. All my eyes told me was that there was a large, blurry shadow standing over the tank. It could’ve been a tree, for all my eyes could understand.
I knew it was him though. I could sense his blazing warmth through other means. More importantly, I could smell him.
The hands. The nice hands. The man. Hugh Morton.
I smelled something else, too, something new. Another person, maybe? I listened intently for another heartbeat, another guest. I didn’t want to be shown off right now. I wanted to go back to sleep.
His hand reached back down to ruffle my hair, then run a rough finger across my scales. He rumbled something about feeding and I slumped back down to crawl back to bed. I wasn't hungry enough to want to fight and for all the good these hands did, they never killed my meals for me like the last ones did.
"Don't be so fussy, Hecate, I’m giving you a treat,” he chided. The ground shook as he flicked a finger against the glass wall. “You must get bored lying around in there all night.”
I huffed and and backed into a better position, against the side of one of my ceramic caves. I was still nursing a bite on my flank from my last dinner.
I licked the air as Hugh slid open one half of the wall. I frowned. The prey was not a creature I knew. Hugh’s hands dangled a warm shadow by a long tail, then flicked it into the soil and the prey squeaked as it landed. It didn’t smell like a rat or any other rodent I’d encountered before. It did smell afraid.
It already understood it was being hunted. I didn’t like that. Scared meals fought back. I had scars to prove it.
Hugh scoffed in annoyance as the creature scrambled towards the opening in the glass. He knocked it back into the enclosure several times while I waited for a chance to strike.
“Don't make me break your legs," Hugh sighed.
The creature stopped moving. Strange. Its little heart was hot and hammering. Was it trained? Why would anyone take the time to train food?
Maybe it was afraid of Hugh’s voice.
I took advantage of its stillness and lunged. It turned to run in the split-second before we collided. It slammed into one of my open arms. I fumbled as it flailed, then got myself curled around it anyway.
It felt strange against my scales. Not furry. Not naked. Synthetic. Was it wrapped? Humans wrapped their food, but not mine. They used those crinkling papers. This was wrapped in something soft.
Was it clothed?
I hesitated in my confusion and the prey bit back. Something long and sharp stabbed in between two ventral scales. I flinched, hissing, and the prey slipped away. It left the sharp thing behind, but it didn’t bleed. I put a hand on the sharp thing and realized it wasn’t a tooth. It had some kind of handle. Plastic. The point was metal. Some kind of tiny knife? I swayed uncertainly and let the little creature run.
What was he feeding me?
~
Poe
It had never occurred to me that there might be peoples other than humans and my own kind living in this world. I wish I had the time to found out.
The caged creature I had been placed with was, as most things were, comparatively massive. Its front was that of a vaguely humanoid woman, small, but still at least twice the size of my own top half. Her eyes were vacant and unfocussed. She was pale, fat, and lined with scars that told me she had much more experience than myself in fighting.
The bulk of her body was what truly scared me. She was a python that trailed lazily across the near half of the terrarium. She was coiled, so I could only guess at her true length, but her girth was easy to make out. I regularly crawled through tunnels narrower than this snake, making it all too easy to understand what would happen to me. That the master of the house had returned my thumbtack seemed like a joke. I had no prayer here. This would be a cruel combination of all the worst deaths I'd been taught to fear—caught, crushed, and consumed.
Entertainment!
I wanted to refuse him the satisfaction. I let myself lie down and cry as the master of the house threw me back into the dirt with an unambiguous threat. I might as well. No one else would know to mourn me for weeks, even months.
It would turn out that my inborn will to survive was stronger than my desire to spite the host I'd lived under for so many years. I rolled out of the way, only a split second two late, as the snake woman pounced. She caught me in the crook of her elbow then shoved me into a wall of scaled muscle. The python whipped around me before I could take a breath. I barely had the space to think, never mind resist. It was sheer luck that wedged my thumbtack between two plates of her underbelly.
And it was enough. She spasmed and let go of me.
I fell forward into the dirt, coughing to refill my aching lungs. I don’t think she had left any part of me unbruised, though didn’t waste time taking inventory of my injuries.
“Hey, don’t let it get away now, girl, get up!"
I scowled up at the master of the house as I pushed onto my feet. There was nowhere for me to get away to, not while he was leering over the open door.
I didn't understand him.
I didn't understand how a thinking creature such as himself, with all his power and all his resources, would resort to blood sport for entertainment. The study I'd spent my life beneath had a beautiful library. Page after page told of the world's endless mysteries, of beauty and majesty and life for him to go out and pursue. And he would choose to spend his time watching some monster eat me alive.
I saw the snake-woman moving out of the corner of my eye. My stomach twisted at the utter silence of her movement over the dirt even before she started sliding towards me, and then it was like a switch went off in my head. Gone was higher thought, blown away by the sheer force of the ancient instinct to run.
The terrarium was full and well-decorated, with plenty of greenery both faux and alive as well as several dark spaces to hide. I doubted any would shelter me, this place had been built for her.
I had nowhere to go and I ran and I ran and I hit the glass and I ran and there was a branch so I climbed it and I reached the ceiling and there was more glass and I turned around and there she was crawling after me and I jumped and her hand brushed my leg and I kicked and she fell around me like an avalanche and it was over.
Her long body surrounded me and as soon as I moved, she struck. Walls of scales encased me again and this time, no tack would save me. Everything went dark.
Several seconds passed. She loosed her grip. I heard the master’s muffled voice droning through her flank. I took a breath and shuddered. Long minutes of silence passed and the knot she’d wrapped me in fell away.
I admit I didn’t know much about snakes, but she didn’t seem to be very good at this.
I sprung to my feet, desperate to get at least a few inches between us again, but her hand wrapped around my face. She grabbed the back of my shirt’s neckline with her other hand and I thrashed as she pulled me off the ground.
Slowly, her palm pulled away from my face. She rubbed two fingers over my eyes, traced the curve of my nose, and drew a thumb across my lips. I bit down as hard as I could. She barely flinched, just wiped a little blood off on the side of my face.
“Beb?” she croaked.
Her blank eyes narrowed in concentration as her tongue flicked out of her mouth and brushed against my nose. Tasting me. Her lips twitched. I felt cold.
“No, please! Please, please, please, kill me first, please,” I cried.
She tilted her head to the side. Her tongue flickered twice more and both times I flinched. She babbled something in a tortured voice.
“Please,” I begged. “If you can even understand me, please, just kill me before you eat me. I don’t want to suffer.”
She frowned and hissed several times. My blood trembled through my veins. She slowly shaped her tongue around some word I did not know. She patted my head and sighed, then set me gently on the dirt beside her and slithered away.
~
Hecate
The prey had the face of a person.
The little thing was clever enough to talk, but not smart enough to understand me. They were small like a hatchling. They ran on legs like a bird.
They screamed and cried so I let the little one have some space, whatever they were.
I hoped they would come back to me. They were very warm. Like the sun, but in a person. Like food. Like Hugh.
Like this lovely little cave in the back of the tank. I curled up and burrowed into myself for a cozy rest.
I hoped they wouldn’t try to kill me.
#should I post this at a normaller hour? probably. and yet.#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t writing#my writing#g/t whump#snake tank#oc: poe#oc: hecate#you can tell the owner guy's not important because he doesn't get a tag lol#anyway I think I'm failing at least one class this term yay yay. I have an essay due tomorrow. I finished this instead.#amwt
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Tag yourself I’m Laura Dern gently and affectionately putting her hand on Oscar Isaac’s face
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Glass Eden - Enclosure
prev congrats on not being eaten, but you're still trapped with the snake contains: non-human whumpee (borrower and lamia/naga, both tiny), captivity, pet trope, neglect, dehumanization, communication barrier, conditioned whumpee, concussion, (mild) emeto
Poe
It had to be a game of some sort, yes?
She had few ways to truly lose and I even fewer to win, but it must be a game.
The master of the house had thrown me in here for entertainment, after all. I had assumed it would be his entertainment, but apparently I wasn’t even worth that.
I couldn’t know if I’d been spared out of mercy or boredom or merely saved for later. I wasn’t even sure she was intelligent enough to have had a reason, that my survival wasn’t mere whim. The master of the house kept her like a pet, so it was possible her relatable visage was mere coincidence. Then again, it had seemed like she had been trying to speak with me, and the master of the house was hardly a compassionate figure. He threw me in here for sport, he may as well be keeping a person in a cage.
I think he knew that she wouldn’t finish me off. He left before she had released me. But I also recognized the silver box on the other side of the glass and its ominous black eye. He was still watching, or at least recording to watch later. He would be able to entertain himself with my inevitable death, over and over again. He would watch her feed on me and be able to share it with however many of his awful kin as he liked, just as soon as she changed her mind and attacked me again. Nightmare after never ending nightmare.
For now she seemed content to remain in the stone-looking cave on the far side of the terrarium. One bend of her pale, looping tail squeezed out the entrance, so I could even look over and be sure she stayed put. But my tail continued to quiver at her perfect silence. She could come for me at any moment and if I wasn’t looking at her, I wouldn’t know.
I needed to hide. I could feel the instinct pushing up beneath the rest of my thoughts to demand attention. Anger, self-pity, despair…none of them quite held up to the desperate urging to escape back into the shadows. I had been raised to believe—to know—that being seen by the monsters that owned the house was one of the worst things that could happen to me, and I couldn’t just push the feeling aside now that I’d been caught. The glass walls and open air were torturous.I would worry about survival later. I would worry about water and food and self-defense and how to get out of here later. First, I was going to carve a hiding space into the bark lining the cage, tucking in between the glass and some large stone. My crushed ribs burned as I pushed myself beneath the surface.
When that was done, I curled up to cry.
When that was done, I was still trapped.
~
Hecate
I had pleasant dreams about a patch of sun and another body lying curled up alongside my own.
I played them over in my head for awhile, lazily enjoying the empty schedule ahead of me. Hugh only ever expected me to perform when he had guests, not like the last hands. And he liked me to look like me, not dolled up and polished.
I scratched an itch along the thin scales on my hips and decided I could do with a wash anyway. That wasn’t polish, that was hygiene. I had a rash or something on my side there that never seemed to heal. I couldn’t do as good a job as the hands, but a long soak in even the tepid water on the cool side of the tank would feel refreshing enough.
I slid towards the sound of gently running water. There was a short waterfall on one end of the shallow pool that provided an endless supply of clean water. I’m not sure where exactly it came from, but there were a lot of things I didn’t understand. I only ever got to take short excursions beyond my glass walls and hardly anyone had ever thought I might like an explanation. It wasn’t like I could ask for clarifications. Mostly, I was thankful that this enclosure was at least full of interesting plants and clean bedding and even some clay I could sculpt with.
The water stole away that wonderful heat reserve I’d built up sleeping over the hot floor, but it was worth it. The sharp pinches that dotted the line between scale and skin fell away too, although the burning lower down on my belly lingered. I twisted around to check on what that might be, then tensed as I remembered how I’d hurt myself. Or, not myself, how I’d gotten…bit? Scratched? Hurt, somehow, by the…thing. The little prey-person-thing. The maybe-child.
Were they still here? Or had Hugh come back to collect them?
I whistled as I drew myself out of the water. Their scent was faint, but in a space that usually only housed myself, it was more than enough to trace them. They were wedged between a stone hide and the wall, lying still. As I got closer, they made a muffled squeak, not unlike a rat’s.
I slowed, continuing to sing. It was an old song, a gentle one, one I’ve known since I was just a hatchling. I used to know words to it, something about the sun, but it had been so long and become so meaningless that now all I knew was the tune. The words were in the language I had used with my clutchmates anyway, one without all those tricky human noises. I doubt the prey-person-thing would have understood it.
The substrate lurched as they clawed their way to the surface. I leaned back to keep the spray of bark out of my face. The glass pinged as they backed themself into the wall.
“Hey, hey, shhh,” I whispered.
“No, no, stop! Please! I’ve done nothing to deserve this!” they cried.
“Shh,” I repeated.
There wasn’t much else I could say. I couldn’t speak, not like they did. I had the wrong mouth for it. My tongue was meant for sneaking tastes of the air, not dancing between t and k and th and r and all the rest.
“You-you aren’t attacking me?”
I shook my head. I hoped they could see, even if I couldn’t. It seemed like it. They took a sharp breath like they were reacting to something.
“You understand me? You are intelligent, then? Can you talk?”
“I…mm.”
I pushed off the ground, head cocked. I could hardly answer three questions at once. I motioned with my hands for them to go slower, but it must have looked like something else from where they were standing. They were still sweating fear.
“J-just stay away from me! Please!” they whimpered.
I wanted to hold the poor thing to reassure them, but I wasn't dumb enough to think it would work. I just did my best to show him I meant no harm.
--
Poe
The python-woman stared for several excruciating seconds.
She sighed and looked as if she might cry, then lowered herself back down against the ground again. I wanted to believe it was some kind of submissive gesture, but I was loathe to get too optimistic with my life on the line.
I wished she would blink.
I didn’t move. I was too afraid it was some sort of trap about to spring. I watched a cat catch a mouse like that once, on a trip out into the garden. It had hunkered down and just stared for nearly a full minute. And that minute must have felt like an eternity for the mouse as it waited for that inevitable pounce. The cat had let it go again and again and again until the poor girl was too bloody and tired to try and run.
Eternity dragged on.
I waited and waited and waited until the creature finally grew bored of waiting. She backed away and silently drifted back to the other side of the cage.
I had to get out of here.
I crept around the perimeter looking for some way out. The only breaks in the glass were along the front, where the human had first thrown me in. The glass fit together so tightly, I couldn’t even wedge my fingers between the two panes, never mind try to pry them further apart. The mechanisms to lock the door in place were too far overhead for me to even examine. I turned to glare at the camera still gawking at me from the other side of the glass.
I could weave something out of the foliage, perhaps, or turn my little dagger into something more useful. Assuming I had the time.
I kept my distance from her as I explored and only partially for that most obvious reason of avoiding her. The far end of the tank where she seemed to prefer to rest was significantly hotter than the other, and the whole place was uncomfortably humid. I assume it all suited her but it was making me sweat on top of everything else.
I thought about taking off the wool I had wrapped around my shoulders, but it was also the closest thing to armor that I had. I was dressed to survive the cold floor of the underused study, not monster attacks. I retreated back towards where I had heard water on the cooler half of the enclosure. My aching ribs demanded a rest anyways.
The water was…not clean, to say the least. A small waterfall churned the pool, likely intended to keep the water from growing too stagnant, but it was clearly not up to the task. I knelt down and grimaced at the pool. It was clear, but a layer of dirt and dead bugs littered the bottom. I drank anyway; it wasn’t as if it was the most questionable thing I’d ever ingested. It was refreshing enough.
After a short break I thought about what to do for shelter while I was trapped in here. I probably couldn’t make anything truly safe, but I could at least gather up a decent bed to rest in. Something more comfortable for my sore ribs. As for food…I would have to hope some of these plants might be edible. I didn’t know them. I chose a spot to set up distance from the water, assuming she’d come back here to drink again before long.
A distant creaking caught my attention, and it was not the snake. The housemaster was back. I ducked as deep into the shadows as I could, as much habit as anything.
He moved slowly, spending a few minutes walking around and admiring various displays around the room. It was too far for me to make out the details, but I assume he was looking at other pets. I didn’t want to know anything more.
He turned to this prison before too long. The snake emerged from her cave to whistle and wave at him. He greeted her with a smile and oh-so-easily opened up the doors, nearly removing the entire front wall.
And his attention was fixed on the snake, not me.
I warily crept towards the open doors. I waited until he had his hands full with the snake-woman and I launched towards my freedom.
It was a hopeless endeavor. The movement caught his eye and he released the snake to take a clumsy swipe at me. Of course, a man twenty times my size didn’t need to be too precise to ruin me and these were hardly ideal conditions for me. His massive forearm slammed into me like a wall, knocking my breath away. I went skidding off the edge of the shelf before I could catch my balance.
“Shit!” the master hissed. “Didn’t realize you were still in there.”
I landed in a heap at his feet. At some point, either during the fall or the landing, my head cracked against something hard. My eyes watered as I tried to pull myself back together, back into a coherent train of thought, so I could get up and—
“No, no, you’re not getting out of here. I’m not letting some thieving vermin run wild in my home,” the master said.
A flat weight collapsed on top of me as I tried to crawl away. Shoe, I registered dimly. Very bad place to be. Very messy death. I wondered how much of it I would feel. He pressed down, just hard enough that I might burst if I tried to move, and dragged me towards the rest of him. He leaned down. My head swelled full of pain and panic.
I heard someone scream. I wondered if it might be me, even if screaming wasn’t a behavior borrowers were naturally inclined to perform. I closed my mouth with a groan and the sound kept coming. I pressed my ears back. It hurt. My head hurt so bad and the noise made it worse.
“Hey! Hey, my! My!” the scream shrieked.
Something struck the glass overhead and the weight crushing my chest pulled away. I threw myself forward to escape at the same moment the master bent down over me and all that motion all at once set my head spinning and stomach heaving.
“Mm? You do want it, then, girl? You were just saving it for later?”
I may have taken an entire two steps before collapsing back onto my knees to vomit up the meager contents of my stomach. I was still retching, unable to move, as the housemaster’s hand fell over me and pinched the back of my shirt. Vomit ran down my chin as I was lifted so quickly into the air that the world turned into a blur.
“No, don’t,” I croaked, several seconds after he tossed me back in the bark.
The snake woman reached for me. I kicked at her. She sputtered, but only because the housemaster pulled her away.
“Ah-ah, Hecate. I’ll let you have the little pest, but for now you’re coming out with me. Come along. It won’t go anywhere,” Hugh said.
The glass slid closed. The lock clicked. The towering shadow disappeared down the hallway. I stopped fighting to keep my eyes open.
I might as well finish dying before she came back to finish her game.
#no editing we die like men. i sorta proofread and that's gonna have to be be Enough for now#g/t#g/t whump#whump#whump writing#my writing#tiny whump#p: glass eden#oc: poe#oc: hecate#rtl#giant tiny
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goretober day 3: cannibalism
which flavour muffin would you like? frank or len? lol
prompt by @l0vely-w0undss @shocked-collar
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