**Warning this is not great writing haha, just keeping it here for the memories and so I can see how much better I’ve gotten overtime :)
~ Jack Masterlist ~
Jack is a lonely broken boy who was finally purchased to go to a home where his purpose could finally be fulfilled. Though he is legally owned by Mara Hollingsworth, she gave him to her young granddaughter Lily. Slowly the young girl is helping Jack learn how to recover while the rest of the family is trying to break him further. But what happens when his dreams take him away from their home... who is he without an owner?
Set in a bbu universe. In a small old town near the mountains.
~ captivity ~
He Needed a Real Name
Lily is a Doll
Don’t Tell Lily
Veronica and Jack Aren’t Exactly Friends…
a little food before ballet begins
The Man part 1
The Man part 2
Drunk
command- Jack pinch Lily
Lost in a Dream?
~ drabbles and snippets ~
Lily has a nightmare
Symbolic ~ Jack
Victoria's Tattoo
~ character descriptions ~
Jack
Lily
Victoria
~ answered questions ~
For Jack: Jack's insecurity Jack says his biggest flaw is... a song for Jack Lily and Jack - stressful situations Jack misses him a lot... Jack's favorite sport!
For Lily: Lily likes to wear... Lily and Jack - stressful situations Lily doesn't like...
For Victoria: 3 OC birthday dates! Victoria should know
For Mrs. Hollingsworth: Mrs. Hollingsworth's controversial topic
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heyyyyyyy! I know you haven't posted for awhile, but I just found your account and I'm already invested in Jay's pirate story and wanna know if there's a chance you're continue it??
Hello! I’d love to reach out to you and direct you to my other account If you could just leave a comment on this post :)
CW: super hero fights, physical violence, mentions of destruction of property. Not much going on here, just setting up for the real whumpy bits!
— — —
Legend strolled around the city, looking for ways he could create some trouble. The hero team had been busy recently as villains from the whole district had been attacking, several of them a day. He didn’t care much however, an itch to fight with one of them after running into the new hero several days before.
Legend’s attention was caught as he looked over at the park on the south side of the city. His dragonfly-like wings spread and he flew up to a nearby building so he could get a better look. Ox, the city's strength centered hero, was trying to clean up the park from destruction rot on it. They were moving trees and benches as civilians were busy on the other side cleaning up the trash that had been left behind.
Legend smirked, noticing how their movements were slower than normal. He eyed the foundation of a building nearby which had already been cleaned of debris. He wondered quietly how long that took, judging by how they looked, Legend concurred they hadn’t taken much, if any of a break. He hummed a bit before whistling to get their attention.
Ox looked up, but they didn’t have to. They had a pretty good idea of who could possibly be trying to get their attention right now, and their hunch was right. “Ah, Legend. I’m a bit busy right now.” They said, gesturing at the mess. “Can’t it wait?” They give him a fond but mostly exasperated look.
“Aw. You get any sleep? Or have you been too busy helping them?” He gestured his head over to the small cleanup crews. “You know, I really don’t think it’s in your contract that you have to help them.” He chuckled while walking to the edge of the building, stepping off. His wings caught his fall and let him land.
Ox rolled their eyes and kept cleaning. Their strength made the job so much easier for the cleaning crew, who desperately needed any help that they could. “I didn’t become a hero just to get paid, you know. Doing this means going above and beyond, no matter what the contract says.”
Legend made a face, practically dripping with disapproval and annoyance. “What a generous hero. God, can’t you ever be selfish?” He glanced over at the crew before back at Ox. None of them seemed super alarmed, which was good. He didn’t want a big scene. Legend stepped even closer into their personal space. “Why not just a little fight, hm Ox?”
They tensed momentally, out of habit. But their muscles relaxed a second later, and they lightly pushed Legend away, weary with his insistence, but not upset. “Well, all of the really heavy stuff has been taken care of by now, which is what they really need me for. How about this? If we go to a different area, and you promise to not make a mess, then we can fight. Do you hear me? Not a single. Ounce. Of. Damage. Not a broken branch of a city tree or a crack in the road.”
"Or what?" He leaned over them. "Because I really think the city could put more of their attention in this part of the city." He whispered while smiling gently.
“More attention needed to this part does not mean you should wreck it. No, we’re going somewhere else. Even just a few blocks over. I won’t let you cause havoc here.” Ox said, raising an eyebrow. A civil and good-hearted, although very genuine, challenge.
Legend eyed them before letting out a deep sigh. "You have two minutes to get there before I get bored." He flew off to an area with a more open field away from everyone. Fully prepared to go right back to the city, planning out in his head which buildings he would attack first.
Ox grumbled to themself about Legend, running after him as fast as they could while still conserving energy for the fight. “What a jerk…” they whisper to themself, trying to find when he went.
He hummed softly, looking up as they ran closer. Flying up in the air to get behind them before diving at them and slamming them into the ground.
All the earlier bits of fondness were mostly gone from their eyes as their mind shifted into Serious Hero Time. They had no problem shoving him off and rose to their feet as quickly as possible. They weren’t one for talking during a fight, so they didn’t. Their body tense and their muscles prepared to spring into action and defend against Legend’s attacks.
Legend was content with the situation, the fighting back and forth lasted for a while. Ox was one of the heroes on the team that Legend struggled fighting the most due to their strength aspect, but it made it all that more of a challenge. Eventually, he pulled back instead of leaping forward. “Nice fighting, good to see you aren’t rusty.” He gave them a smile before flying off.
Ox wiped the sweat off of their brow. Legend was always doing stuff like this. Forcing a fight, then leaving just as suddenly. And although he could be dangerous, he wasn’t a super violent villain— not that Ox would ever say that to his face — and his wings were a nice change of pace from most fights. Checking over themself, Ox started heading back to the hub. They had to write up a report on the fight that had just transpired before they could finally go home and rest.
One of their teammates waved over from the couch. "Hey, Andi! Is everything ok? Saw Legend on the news."
Andi sighed, flopping down on the couch with all the gracefulness of a, well, tired ox. “Well, he didn’t really cause much damage to buildings, and no civilians got hurt, so I’d say things are okay.”
Luna smiled sympathetically. Leaning over to gently rub their back. "I'll get you a snack. Sweet or salty?" She stood up.
“Sweet, please. Do we have any more of those little cookies?” Andi stayed sitting, but they watched Luna fondly. They were proud of her like they were of all the heroes on this team.
Most districts only needed a couple heroes, but due to the dangerous location with so many government-lead facilities around, the government allowed quite a lot of heroes in the area. The first six months or so was miserable as they struggled with trying to figure out each other's schedules. Who had what villains at what point in time. Their Leader was the one who had the idea that they just all become a team. Backup was needed for some fights anyways, so it made sense.
Everyone had been excited about the team and their performances all went up as well. One of their teammates had sent in a request for a hub, and surprisingly the government complied and began work. The facility wasn’t too huge but it was much more than most heroes got. There were work offices, several joined living areas, a kitchen with thousands of dollars worth of appliances.
And then Luna had come along a year or so ago. She was an up and rising hero, with very little experience. Surprisingly though, she wasn’t holding the group back in any ways. In fact, their little group had grown quite a lot since she had joined.
“Mhm! I’ll be right back.” Luna left to go to the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she got a plate of cookies and some water for them as well. Carefully added in flavorless electrolytes so Andi could recover a little bit easier from working non-stop. Luna picked up one of the report packets from the kitchen counter and brought them over, smiling a bit while presenting everything. “Voilá.”
Andi smiled, taking the plate and the packet. They began to fill out the report while munching happily on their snack. They had to brush away fallen crumbs from the papers every once in a while, but they finished at last. As they put away the plate and turned in the form, Andi noticed that Luna was still in the lounge. They gave her a friendly smile. “So, what about you? Have any big villain fights yet?”
“Yeah, actually.” She smiled, looking up from her book. “A couple of days ago some of the villains were causing trouble and the others were busy so I got my first solo battle.” She smiled. “Yesterday Legend found out and challenged me. Buuuut I didn’t wanna risk fighting him yet. I think I need more experience in hand-to-hand combat.”
“You came face to face with Legend? Wow.” Andi knew that Legend wouldn’t have tried to seriously hurt her, but that jerk wasn’t exactly known for his carefulness. They gave Luna a concerned look. “I’m glad you recognized you aren’t ready yet. Congratulations on the solo fight, and be careful out there.” With that, Andi said their goodbyes and headed home. After everything today, they were ready to shower and sleep as long as their body let them.
She smiled softly, though it dropped the moment they left. “Not ready yet… I’ll show you Andi.” She rubbed her arm lightly before going out to train with the others.
Let's face it; saying " it was very painful," falls just a little flat. You want something that will empower your writing, enrichen it. Using words that vividly describe a situation or feeling will help your readers "visualize" the scene. It will make them wonder " How is the main character going to survive this?" Or, if the hero is inflicting rightful pain on the antagonist, it will cause them to cheer and anticipate what their favorite character will do next. But none of this will work if you describe a deadly wound as "It really hurt." Here are some alternate words for "painful."
Excruciating
Seering
Stabbing
Ripping
Blood-curling
Paralyzing
Unimaginable
Writhing
Twisting
Shot
Shredding
Tearing
Agonizing
Indescribable
Intolerable
Harrowing
Torturing
Torturous
Aching
Cramping
Dull aching
Burning
Cold sensation
Electric shock
Nagging
Intense
Pins and needles
Sharp
Spasms
Splitting
Tender
Throbbing
Tingling
Tiring
Exhausting
Acute
Burning
Chapped
Nauseating
MILD PAIN: PAIN YOUR CHARACTER NOTICES BUT IT DOESN'T DISTRACT THEM.
Pinch
Sting
Smart
Stiffness
MODERATE PAIN: PAIN THAT DISTRACTS BUT DOESN'T TRULY STOP YOUR CHARACTER.
Ache
Throb
Distress
Flare
SEVERE PAIN: PAIN YOUR CHARACTER CAN'T IGNORE.
Agony
Anguish
Suffering
Thoes
Torment
Stabbing
OBLITERATING: KIND OF PAIN THAT PROHIBITS ANYTHING BUT BEING IN PAIN. (AND DOING ANYTHING TO ALLEVIATE IT.)
Ripping
Tearing
Writhing
Got other ideas or something you'd like to ask me? Go right ahead! I'd Love to hear from you!
Actually, let me add a few things to this because I love writing and describing pain, SO-
Break the rules a little. Personify the bitch. Even if you don't use words that have intrinsic painful connotations, make it invasive. Show the path of the shock of sensation. Tangling up their veins and burrowing through their muscle. Spiking tight around their bones and ripping up their throat.
Just play around with it - like. Wtf does 'spiking tight' mean? Usually we wouldn't say 'spiking around', but I sure tf just did because it felt right. Go with your gut and have fun with it.
that moment when post-abduction whumpee is out in the grocery store and someone asks where the bathroom is. they tell them, just around the corner, they point, on the right.
the person smiled, says thank you. and everything is fine. nothing is wrong. no bad thoughts come to mind. whumpee goes back to grabbing avocados. feeling how ripe they were. choosing another one to add to their bag.
it’s a slow process, as they begin to lose themselves. but they slowly get this gut wrenching feeling. they keep staring at things too long, feeling themselves starting to disassociate.
no. look up. keep walking.
their mind starts to wander away
not loved.
not wanted.
nononono.
their hand reaching for some strawberries is shaking so hard that they stop, staring at their own trembling as a soft whimper escapes their throat.
they can’t do this
they have to go. now. they head for the exit, leaving their cart behind. they pause. the car is to far. home is to far. they need safety now. they dodge into the restroom.
they’re hiding themselves in a stall.
and that’s where they stay, for hours. rocking back and forth, silent tears running down their face.
they weren’t even thinking of whumper.
not loved
they were just thinking of how hopeless they were now.
not wanted
no friends, no family, no one who cares…
whumpee wonders if they should just give up on themeselves too.
“We Just Wanted To Let All Of Our Customers Know That The Store Will Be Closing In Five Minutes. Please Purchase All Of Your Items And Exit The Store.”
and whumpee tries to sit up. tries to stand. but they can’t move.
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that moment when post-abduction whumpee is out in the grocery store and someone asks where the bathroom is. they tell them, just around the corner, they point, on the right.
the person smiled, says thank you. and everything is fine. nothing is wrong. no bad thoughts come to mind. whumpee goes back to grabbing avocados. feeling how ripe they were. choosing another one to add to their bag.
it’s a slow process, as they begin to lose themselves. but they slowly get this gut wrenching feeling. they keep staring at things too long, feeling themselves starting to disassociate.
no. look up. keep walking.
their mind starts to wander away
not loved.
not wanted.
nononono.
their hand reaching for some strawberries is shaking so hard that they stop, staring at their own trembling as a soft whimper escapes their throat.
they can’t do this
they have to go. now. they head for the exit, leaving their cart behind. they pause. the car is to far. home is to far. they need safety now. they dodge into the restroom.
they’re hiding themselves in a stall.
and that’s where they stay, for hours. rocking back and forth, silent tears running down their face.
they weren’t even thinking of whumper.
not loved
they were just thinking of how hopeless they were now.
not wanted
no friends, no family, no one who cares…
whumpee wonders if they should just give up on themeselves too.
“We Just Wanted To Let All Of Our Customers Know That The Store Will Be Closing In Five Minutes. Please Purchase All Of Your Items And Exit The Store.”
and whumpee tries to sit up. tries to stand. but they can’t move.
YAYAYAY :)) I've had this in the works for 3 weeks now. So so excited to get feedback, please leave suggestions, comments, etc.
TW: Not much it's mostly intro, threatening, overheating, stress position?, nauseous from sea sickness
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jay’s laugh rang through the streets as he ran, feeling as if the wind powered each of his steps, feeling the world beckon him further down to the sea. To safety.
He grabbed onto a lamp pole to swing himself, propelling down an alleyway. He tried to sneak a glance behind him but in doing so ran straight into a poor, unsuspecting woman. His eyes widened in alarm as the food in her basket flew everywhere. He bent down at once, trying to pick it everything up for her before she became angry. But it was too late, she was already yelling and admonishing him for going so fast and being so careless!
“I’m so sorry madam.” He sped off again as the men caught up, turning the corner. “It won’t happen again!” He tossed the words over his shoulder.
He ran down where the cobblestone turned to dirt, and from there he ran up to the wooden sturdy docks where crates were always being loaded and unloaded. He dove behind a bunch of chests that were all piled up. Looking around carefully before seeing an empty barrel tilted on its side. Grinning before diving inside, pushing his back into the darkness. It was heavy and didn’t shift from his movements.
He heard the man that was on his heels running up right near the barrel before stopping. Puffing quietly. “Where did you go…” He grunted, kicking at some chests.
“Hey.” A low growl came from further off. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Some street thief just ran down to the docks. We were thinking maybe he- whoa! Hey!”
“Don’t touch my things. For all I know you’re a thief too.”
“I am part of the King’s Royal Guard.”
“Leave my things alone.”
“You are under no authority-” His voice suddenly dropped and when he spoke again his voice was laced with fear and wariness. “Of course… I can give you a pardon…”
“Get out of here.” Jay listened as the guard ran back from the way they came. He let out a soft breath. Wondering who had so much authority to stop someone from the Guard. “Cane, Benjamin! What are ye doin’?! Get these blasted crates on the boat, now!”
“Yes, captain!”
It took much too long for Jay to process that people were headed his way. And by the time he tried getting out, it was too late, the boxes hiding him were taken away and he was left without anything to block himself if he tried to escape. A man lifted the barrel upright and clothes and boots were thrown inside and on top of him. The last bit of light disappeared as the man took a thin piece of wood and nailed it on top.
Jay meant to say something. He really did, but his chest filled with a sense of dread. He pushed the clothes down as he tried sitting up before the barrel was lifted sideways and he fell over. He was lifted off the ground and with each step further away from the land, his thoughts spiraled more. If he said something now they’d kill him, wouldn’t they? If the captain put his hands on someone from the royal army, why wouldn’t they slit his throat just for fun?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darius kept his face neutral as he walked into the captain’s office. “Yes Sir. Is something wrong?”
“What took so long this time?”
“Hm?” Darius tilted his head, striding over to the cabinet that was full of rum. Getting out a bottle and a couple of glasses.
“We were here for three extra damn days. What took so blasted long?!”
“You need a drink.”
“What. Took. So. Long.”
“Oh well, you know capt’n. Just some of the men looking for some companionship.” His voice dripped with honey as he set the glasses on the table, ready to pour the first one. The captain snatched the bottle from him, taking a swig from it directly as Darius watched. A smile danced from his lips. “Was I taking too long Sir?”
“Shut up. I hate this damn city. I had to deal with that stupid Guard all week. And one idiot was snooping around our things this morning. A guard. Claiming he was looking for some thief. I know he wasn’t. Likely sent from the King, getting suspicious of us again. I know we shouldn’t have stayed so long.”
Darius cut in. “But can you blame the men? They just wanted a little fun-”
“YES, I CAN!” He yelled, slamming the bottle down on the table. “I can do whatever the hell I want!”
He stared at him indifferently. “Careful captain. You might break the glass.”
“Pour me a bloody drink.” He grumbled as he sat back in the chair, kicking his legs up on the desk as he watched Darius calmly pour two drinks, handing him one of the glasses. He took a slow sip, staring out the window as they slowly moved away from the docks. “Blundering idiots. They see a woman and they lose all sensibility. You need to take more responsibility for them.”
“Perhaps. Or you can do your job better.” Darius snipped.
His eyes snapped over at him. “You need to get your mouth under control.”
“Or what?” He knew those words were wrong the moment his mouth opened, he should have stopped himself but he couldn’t. It’d be the death of him one day.
The captain stood, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him close. “Or maybe I should tie you to the shrouds and flog you myself. Fix up your attitude Ree, do you understand me?”
He took a breath, not daring to show an ounce of fear. “Yes, Sir.”
He pushed him back. Growling while grabbing the bottle again, despite his glass not being empty yet. “I want you to take inventory.”
“Someone did on shore, Sir.” He spoke slowly.
“I know someone did. I want you to take inventory now. I want the report before you go to sleep.”
“Sir, that could take hours…” He tried to reason.
“I understand that. I think you need to learn some manners though, perhaps you should take on some real responsibility.”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes. Captain. I’ll do as you ask.”
“Damn right ye will.” He finished the bottle. “You’re dismissed.” He carelessly waved him out of the room.
He sighed while going out, getting a couple of men to help him as he recorded all of the information. Taking crates down and opening them. Moving on to chests. Then the barrels. Most were empty, though a couple had nailed lids on, they’d have to take them off to open them up. Getting them till there was one left. “What’s in this one?”
“Just some extra clothes.”
He sighed. “Go ahead and open it.”
Two of the three nails had been pried off before a yelling voice interrupted the men's work. “YOU IDIOT!”
“At least I’m not a goddam coward!”
Darius frowned while looking over as the two of them pulled out swords. Running over to break up the two men without getting nicked by the sharp edges.
The two men helping him left the barrel, running over along with half the crew, excited to see a duel commence.
By the time Darius had split the two up the final barrel wasn’t a concern anymore. “You said clothes?”
“Yes Sir.”
“That’s all I need to know. He doesn’t need to find out.” He sighed while writing it down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jay let out a breath of relief. He had no clue what he would have done if he had gotten caught. The boat was beginning to sway. He felt sick. Heat building up inside. Being constantly shifted up against the sides and walls of the barrels. Trying to avoid feeling nauseous, closing his eyes as voices surrounded him at all times.
He was getting further from shore each minute. Maybe if he escaped at night when they were all asleep he could jump off the boat and swim back to shore.
He quietly rubbed the necklace he had in his pocket. He closed his eyes, trying to rest.
When he woke up he was hot, nearly sweating, but it was quiet. He counted to 60 once. Twice. Three, four, five, six times. He didn’t hear anyone. Any footsteps.
This was his chance.
He had to escape now.
He pushed at the lid and managed to pry it open.
He sat up and stood shocked as the wind bit at his skin. His legs tingled alive and he had to wait for a couple of minutes for his body to stop seizing in pain. His skin was burning to the touch and yet the cool sensation of the wind made him feel sick all over again. He looked around but there was no one in sight.
He stood and carefully climbed up and out of the barrel. The boat lurched, and so did his stomach. “Nnh.” He held his head. He fished the necklace out of his pocket, glad to see it was still there. He went to one of the boat’s railings, looking out. He frowned before running across the ship, it was a lot bigger than he thought. He looked that way, but nothing. No lights anywhere.
He looked around as his brain began speeding up and he went into a panic. His hand worked around the necklace, fidgeting nervously. Where was he… how was he supposed to get home? He bit his lip before going back to the barrel. The boat jumped with a wave and he tripped over a box and fell, hitting his head. “Ow.” He mumbled, moving to get up before feeling a heavy boot land on his back, pinning him there. “Oh no-” He whispered, barely making a sound.
Darius tilted his head thoughtfully as he stared down at the boy.
YAYAYAY :)) I've had this in the works for 3 weeks now. So so excited to get feedback, please leave suggestions, comments, etc.
TW: Not much it's mostly intro, threatening, overheating, stress position?, nauseous from sea sickness
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jay’s laugh rang through the streets as he ran, feeling as if the wind powered each of his steps, feeling the world beckon him further down to the sea. To safety.
He grabbed onto a lamp pole to swing himself, propelling down an alleyway. He tried to sneak a glance behind him but in doing so ran straight into a poor, unsuspecting woman. His eyes widened in alarm as the food in her basket flew everywhere. He bent down at once, trying to pick it everything up for her before she became angry. But it was too late, she was already yelling and admonishing him for going so fast and being so careless!
“I’m so sorry madam.” He sped off again as the men caught up, turning the corner. “It won’t happen again!” He tossed the words over his shoulder.
He ran down where the cobblestone turned to dirt, and from there he ran up to the wooden sturdy docks where crates were always being loaded and unloaded. He dove behind a bunch of chests that were all piled up. Looking around carefully before seeing an empty barrel tilted on its side. Grinning before diving inside, pushing his back into the darkness. It was heavy and didn’t shift from his movements.
He heard the man that was on his heels running up right near the barrel before stopping. Puffing quietly. “Where did you go…” He grunted, kicking at some chests.
“Hey.” A low growl came from further off. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Some street thief just ran down to the docks. We were thinking maybe he- whoa! Hey!”
“Don’t touch my things. For all I know you’re a thief too.”
“I am part of the King’s Royal Guard.”
“Leave my things alone.”
“You are under no authority-” His voice suddenly dropped and when he spoke again his voice was laced with fear and wariness. “Of course… I can give you a pardon…”
“Get out of here.” Jay listened as the guard ran back from the way they came. He let out a soft breath. Wondering who had so much authority to stop someone from the Guard. “Cane, Benjamin! What are ye doin’?! Get these blasted crates on the boat, now!”
“Yes, captain!”
It took much too long for Jay to process that people were headed his way. And by the time he tried getting out, it was too late, the boxes hiding him were taken away and he was left without anything to block himself if he tried to escape. A man lifted the barrel upright and clothes and boots were thrown inside and on top of him. The last bit of light disappeared as the man took a thin piece of wood and nailed it on top.
Jay meant to say something. He really did, but his chest filled with a sense of dread. He pushed the clothes down as he tried sitting up before the barrel was lifted sideways and he fell over. He was lifted off the ground and with each step further away from the land, his thoughts spiraled more. If he said something now they’d kill him, wouldn’t they? If the captain put his hands on someone from the royal army, why wouldn’t they slit his throat just for fun?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darius kept his face neutral as he walked into the captain’s office. “Yes Sir. Is something wrong?”
“What took so long this time?”
“Hm?” Darius tilted his head, striding over to the cabinet that was full of rum. Getting out a bottle and a couple of glasses.
“We were here for three extra damn days. What took so blasted long?!”
“You need a drink.”
“What. Took. So. Long.”
“Oh well, you know capt’n. Just some of the men looking for some companionship.” His voice dripped with honey as he set the glasses on the table, ready to pour the first one. The captain snatched the bottle from him, taking a swig from it directly as Darius watched. A smile danced from his lips. “Was I taking too long Sir?”
“Shut up. I hate this damn city. I had to deal with that stupid Guard all week. And one idiot was snooping around our things this morning. A guard. Claiming he was looking for some thief. I know he wasn’t. Likely sent from the King, getting suspicious of us again. I know we shouldn’t have stayed so long.”
Darius cut in. “But can you blame the men? They just wanted a little fun-”
“YES, I CAN!” He yelled, slamming the bottle down on the table. “I can do whatever the hell I want!”
He stared at him indifferently. “Careful captain. You might break the glass.”
“Pour me a bloody drink.” He grumbled as he sat back in the chair, kicking his legs up on the desk as he watched Darius calmly pour two drinks, handing him one of the glasses. He took a slow sip, staring out the window as they slowly moved away from the docks. “Blundering idiots. They see a woman and they lose all sensibility. You need to take more responsibility for them.”
“Perhaps. Or you can do your job better.” Darius snipped.
His eyes snapped over at him. “You need to get your mouth under control.”
“Or what?” He knew those words were wrong the moment his mouth opened, he should have stopped himself but he couldn’t. It’d be the death of him one day.
The captain stood, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him close. “Or maybe I should tie you to the shrouds and flog you myself. Fix up your attitude Ree, do you understand me?”
He took a breath, not daring to show an ounce of fear. “Yes, Sir.”
He pushed him back. Growling while grabbing the bottle again, despite his glass not being empty yet. “I want you to take inventory.”
“Someone did on shore, Sir.” He spoke slowly.
“I know someone did. I want you to take inventory now. I want the report before you go to sleep.”
“Sir, that could take hours…” He tried to reason.
“I understand that. I think you need to learn some manners though, perhaps you should take on some real responsibility.”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes. Captain. I’ll do as you ask.”
“Damn right ye will.” He finished the bottle. “You’re dismissed.” He carelessly waved him out of the room.
He sighed while going out, getting a couple of men to help him as he recorded all of the information. Taking crates down and opening them. Moving on to chests. Then the barrels. Most were empty, though a couple had nailed lids on, they’d have to take them off to open them up. Getting them till there was one left. “What’s in this one?”
“Just some extra clothes.”
He sighed. “Go ahead and open it.”
Two of the three nails had been pried off before a yelling voice interrupted the men's work. “YOU IDIOT!”
“At least I’m not a goddam coward!”
Darius frowned while looking over as the two of them pulled out swords. Running over to break up the two men without getting nicked by the sharp edges.
The two men helping him left the barrel, running over along with half the crew, excited to see a duel commence.
By the time Darius had split the two up the final barrel wasn’t a concern anymore. “You said clothes?”
“Yes Sir.”
“That’s all I need to know. He doesn’t need to find out.” He sighed while writing it down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jay let out a breath of relief. He had no clue what he would have done if he had gotten caught. The boat was beginning to sway. He felt sick. Heat building up inside. Being constantly shifted up against the sides and walls of the barrels. Trying to avoid feeling nauseous, closing his eyes as voices surrounded him at all times.
He was getting further from shore each minute. Maybe if he escaped at night when they were all asleep he could jump off the boat and swim back to shore.
He quietly rubbed the necklace he had in his pocket. He closed his eyes, trying to rest.
When he woke up he was hot, nearly sweating, but it was quiet. He counted to 60 once. Twice. Three, four, five, six times. He didn’t hear anyone. Any footsteps.
This was his chance.
He had to escape now.
He pushed at the lid and managed to pry it open.
He sat up and stood shocked as the wind bit at his skin. His legs tingled alive and he had to wait for a couple of minutes for his body to stop seizing in pain. His skin was burning to the touch and yet the cool sensation of the wind made him feel sick all over again. He looked around but there was no one in sight.
He stood and carefully climbed up and out of the barrel. The boat lurched, and so did his stomach. “Nnh.” He held his head. He fished the necklace out of his pocket, glad to see it was still there. He went to one of the boat’s railings, looking out. He frowned before running across the ship, it was a lot bigger than he thought. He looked that way, but nothing. No lights anywhere.
He looked around as his brain began speeding up and he went into a panic. His hand worked around the necklace, fidgeting nervously. Where was he… how was he supposed to get home? He bit his lip before going back to the barrel. The boat jumped with a wave and he tripped over a box and fell, hitting his head. “Ow.” He mumbled, moving to get up before feeling a heavy boot land on his back, pinning him there. “Oh no-” He whispered, barely making a sound.
Darius tilted his head thoughtfully as he stared down at the boy.
“Would you just shut up?!!” Caretaker finally snapped as they twisted around, anger darkening their once calm expression.
Whumpee froze, their eyes going wide in terror as they shrunk back. “Ca-caretaker-” they whimpered, voice cracking as they clutched their hands close to their chest. They- they had only been asking if it was okay if they-
“SHUT UP!!“ Caretaker yelled, their fist flying into the air. “CAN YOU DO THAT?!?? CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR TWO FUCKING MINUTES, WHUMPEE?!?”
Heyyy remember your mute whumper post? Imagine putting these together…
3 years in captivity without anyone saying a word to whumpee, and now they can’t stand the silence. They have to fill the air with something. The tv is always on, or the little radio in the back room, or they have the window open to listen to the birds… something with sound.
And they talk to of course. Trying to keep some kind of noise in the air, and the more caretaker withdraws, the more worried they become. That’s when the questions started. But even caretakers answers are becomes more close ended every single time.
It was only a matter of time caretaker got sick of the sound and lashed out.
The question is wether whumpee is more afraid of the silence or being screamed at by the one person they thought they could trust.
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Hm, well I just love being able to create something from nothing. And I suppose that’s the form of all art. You start with an empty page and you can fill it with colors and shapes. You can start with an empty stage and create an elaborate dance with singing. But art, dancing, singing, they all really can be taught well.
Writing though? Writing isn’t easy to teach. You can give tips, you can offer suggestions, and then you can run wild. I think my deepest joy about writing is that through it I’m able to be a million things. A villain who loves making cookies, a mother who would kill for her children, a struggling teenager, a scared child, a depressed soul who just needs a friend in the world. And through writing I get to experience these people, I get to write their story for better for worse, and it’s important and here’s the thing. Only I can write my story.
Writing isn’t duplicated often, but there are always going to be differences. In art you can draw circle, in dance you can do a ball-change. But in writing there isn’t a formula, there isn’t a set way to do things. You need to decide whats good, what works, what unfortunately needs to be cut.
Writing is an art form that can not be taught like others, and it allows me to experience other worlds and stories, and after I write I feel like I’ve done something for the world, even if it was only just to write a little for fun.
1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?
2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write yo
“And some guard was snooping around my things this morning. A guard. Claiming he was looking for some thief. Course, I know he wasn’t. Likely sent from the King, getting suspicious of us. I know we shouldn’t have stayed so long.”
The first mate cut in. “But can you blame the men? They just wanted a little fun-”
“YES, I CAN!” The captain yelled, slamming the bottle down on the table. “I can do whatever the hell I want with my ship and my men.”
fic writer here putting in my two cents- i do draw things yeah but my main wheelhouse is writing. real talk for a minute i've got a couple friends and dedicated commenters over on ao3 but here on Tumblr? nothing. zero. zilch. nada.
no asks about my works, barely any notes on the links i do post, NOTHING. i know some of the bigger writing accounts get tons of feedback but as a smaller blog its so fuckin disheartening even though i already know that the quality of work isn't worth how many people see it and that i'm writing this primarily for myself and like, two other people who care.
my other writing friends talk about this a lot too and a few of them are affected so much by it that it's made them actively write Less. like bruh
we as writers are out here putting literal weeks, months, and even years into our fics and series and if you dont get incredibly lucky you may as well be talking to a wall
reblog links to works. never stop campaigning as hard as you can for the incredible things you have read and make sure to credit your sources. and for the love of god please give commentary as much as you can even if its barely comprehensible even if it's just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis everything counts
this has been a psa. we are on our period, especially hormonal, and fucking Tired. do better when supporting fanfic authors please and thank you
oh and another thing this has something to do with shortened attention spans too i bet because god forbid you put more than thirty seconds into something (we are guilty of this too im just bitter.) like oughh ngh oh no this looks really good but its so long its so big and it looks like too much... please at least click on it and give it a try im fucking begging you
Honestly, agreed. With a short attention span the thing I do (and love seeing) is reblog with the tag "save for later". Like, not only are you showing the work to other people, you're giving yourself the chance to read it later! It's a win win!
Please. We shouldn't have to beg to even get our works looked at. We try so hard. I have an unfinished 5k+ chapter sitting in my drafts. It will never be finished. No one will see it. I spent over half a year writing it. I will never post it because no one interacted with anything I wrote. That's devastating.
You guys don't know how much interaction means to fanfic writers.
I wanna add my opinion to this too in that I 100% agree with this. For the record, I do understand the point that fanart takes 5-10 seconds to look at and you’re done verse fanfiction, BUT with that out of the way.
Fanfiction- or let’s be real- MOST writing that’s not a published book, hardly ever gets looked at. Is it impossible to become a bigger account? No not at all. Is it hard? Extremely.
Tumblr is a love-hate relationship. I love when I’m fully invested but if I’m not giving 2 hours a day to working on specifically tumblr related content, then I get what- 6 notes? Most of which are likes. Now of course this isn’t always the case. There have been 2 particularly AMAZING writers that I met here who have given feedback and made it WORTH it. But are 6 likes, really from people who probably saw a small account trying to write and thought oh let me give some encouragement, ❤️, without reading a word.
Have I done this, yes. But more and more I’m stopping myself. I like things if I read them, and now I have been making an effort to at least comment. I’m trying to save my account from being buried in reblogs, but if commenting can give just a little bit of encouragement, well that’s what I’d want…
I’ve been trying to get back on tumblr again despite the fact it’s been a struggle. When you put your heart into something which is mediocre and then send it out for a couple notes- 4 reblogs of your post later and it’s accumulated a whole other 2 likes, and you wonder whats the point of writing. I’ve defiantly gotten into writing slumps specifically because of this app. Despite that, I think there’s a lot of good writing here, I want to help other creators and try and push myself.
The takeaway? Commenting, reblogging, or even just sharing it to a friend- these things means so much more then a “like.”
This is a great list of questions! Worldbuilding is literally my favorite thing, so here's a list of questions that I go through when building a world!
Religion:
Polytheism, monotheism, animism, atheism?
What happens after death?
How are the dead disposed of? Burial, cremation, something else?
Is there a belief in ghosts or spirits?
Are there any sacred texts?
What do places of worship look like?
Is there conflict between different religions, or do they peacefully coexist?
How does religion relate to the state?
Habitation/Infrastructure/Transportation:
What are the primary modes of transportation?
What are the roads like and who maintains them?
What do cities look like?
Food:
What does a typical meal look like? How does this vary based on class?
What foods have to be imported from elsewhere?
Are there any cultural taboos against eating certain things?
Relationships:
Where do married couples live? Do they stay with one parent or do they start their own household?
Are weddings religious or civil?
Are there any taboos about marrying someone of a different religion or ethnicity?
Is sex work legal?
What is considered to be kinky?
Are there any sexual taboos?
Sex and Gender:
Are there specific clothing items that are only worn by a specific gender?
Is there a hierarchy with one gender being deemed superior?
Government:
What are the hot button political issues?
Are there different political parties?
What does the average person think of the government?
Laws:
What are the most important laws?
How are laws enforced?
How is guilt determined?
Who doles out punishment? What are typical punishments?
Is capital punishment legal?
Are there prisons?
How does inheritance work?
Military:
Is there a standing army, a militia, or something else?
Is there a draft?
Who is allowed to join the military?
How does someone become an officer?
How are soldiers trained?
What sort of weapons are used?
Economy and Employment:
Does indentured servitude or slavery exist?
Is child labor legal?
What are the most dangerous jobs?
What are perspectives on private property?
Can people moved between socio-economic classes?
What percentage of the population is literate?
Does education differ based on class and/or gender?
Entertainment:
Are there any activities that are considered vices?
What are the perspectives on smoking, alcohol, and drugs?
Clothing:
How has fashion changed over time?
What hairstyles are common?
Technology:
How is information transported over long distances?
Medicine:
What does medicine look like?
What sorts of medical practitioners are there? What sort of training do they go through?
What is the average lifespan? Does this vary based on class?
What are the most common causes of death?
Are there hospitals? Who is allowed to go them? How are they funded?
Are there any folk remedies for certain ailments?
What are perspectives on birth control?
How is pregnancy, childbirth, and nursing managed?
How are people with disabilities treated? Are there accommodations available?
Are those with mental illnesses embraced or ostracized by society?
Coming of age:
Are rites of passage religious in nature?
What are the different stages of becoming an adult?
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"What's your name?" A youth called over to the shaken prisoner.. Their voice was way too loud. Caretaker winced and moved back a step.
"M-my name? Um," he didnt think it'd be wise to say his old name. "3-17-26-8. What's yours?"
"9683447!" they chirped out.
"Won't you get punished for talking?"
They shrugged, "Not really. The handlers say I'm a faulty defect, so I don't think I'll be here much longer. Doesn't really matter anyway. So!" They scooched closer. "Tell me about yourself."
