PyrePostings

Sideblog for my writting drabbles, mostly whump, and mostly early drafts. Constructive criticism appreciated!

[pyrepostings]

Hello, you can call me Pyre. I'm cool with whatever pronouns. This is my sideblog for posting my original writing. I've been posting prompts (under the #PyrePrompts tag) and stories sometimes (#Free Birds and Fiddlers - Masterlist), (#Giving Grace - Masterlist), (Whumptober 2025)

My main blog is @pirefyrelight and the sideblog for spamming other people's prompts and stories I enjoy is @light-me-on-pyre.

[pyrepostings]

I should be able to reorder my tumblr drafts, pin one to the top, sort by last edited, something. The party chapter is buried under like 5 other posts that arent the party chapter because i keep thinking about other aus and stories. can i bap the giving grace chapter to the back of the line now that i have my thoughts down? no its just on top now? ok.

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whumpee whose job it is to take care of the guarden, but also isnt allowed outsidewithout permission. whumpee watching from a window in early spring like please let me out please theres clover All Over the flowerbeds, please let me fertalize the grass before the spring rains please please please-

hosing all the dirt and bugs off in the yard before coming inside.

caretaker who needs to set rules for how long whumpee is in the garden on a hot day. one hour max before a half hour Inside water break. wear your sunhat and sunscreen. Where are your gardenin gloves how did whumper not at least let you have those i thought they wanted you clean. What are you Doing reaching your hand into that dead bunch of branches we have Black Widows here-

caretaker bringing whumpee to the gardening store and letting them pick out what it wants in the garden. Whumpee first picking out plants its familliar with, ones whumper always liked. Later, it decides it hates all of whumper's plants and tears them all up and starts over with new ones that Whumpee actually likes.

(catharsis in ripping them all up? Different enviroment meaning whumper's plants don't do as well which could either be symbolism or a point of great distress for a perfectionism infused whumpee? The old ones not being dug up properly and coming back later to whumpee's distress?)

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whumpee, covered in blood, coming back inside: ive finished culling the raspberries back into their designated patch

caretaker: Why Are You Covered In Blood where are your gloves???

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ok thinking about me tagging this as Logger.

I don't think Sawyer would be a huge flowers guy (rn I'm imagining his character to be 50% toxic masculinity caricatures by volume) but he would like a generally nice and well kept grounds around the house. Maybe there's vegetable and berries for logger to cook with for him, or sell at farmers markets along with excess hunting spoils. Everything has Sawyer's final say, but I could see logger getting approval for a flowering bush here or there. Nothing too crazy.

There's a space by the kennel to hose down. It's a concrete slab with a cold sprayer, and a loop in the floor for leashing noncompliant dogs, and a shelf nearby for equipment like dog shampoo, towels, a change of clothes for logger if he needs to be decent quickly but not for regular usage (what like it Needs clothes to walk back into the house? Ugh fine it can carry the towel in since its 40*F). This space isn't facing the house or road but IS outside and facing the whole goddamn woods. (decent for guest reasons, no actual privacy)

He gets regular indoor showers in the winter, Sawyer doesn't want him to stink or actually freeze to death, but in the summer he should be out there everyday which means the kennel shower should be good enough. On the rare occasion Sawyer is doing actual yardwork he might wash his hands at the kennel sink but otherwise go straight inside and wash up normal style.

When Grace gets broken down a little bit more, she gets put to work outside too, shadowing logger. This wouldn't be a major revelation but seeing all this labor logger does and then how he's allowed to clean off would aid the Does She Hate Him Or Not battle in her head. Also when she's new she gets leashed down and hosed on the regular. She has to earn house showers when she starts showing progress in training.

Logger when he gets put with Arden: "wow your kennel shower sucks. its just a hose on the side of the house. There isn't even an anchor in the ground. I can see the house windows. who designed this place?"

Logger trying to get Grace involved with Arden's garden without it sounding like an order. She needs to get out more, doesn't she know how important it is to keep busy?

Maybe Grace is the first one to get sick of the plants Sawyer approved. Logger filling the space with the flowers he begged for at the cabin, and Grace being triggered by these flowers that were sparsly dotted around the cabin now lining the entire back yard. Logger would scale back for her, but it would be his own journey to get rid of them completely.

[pyrepostings]

The Compass

Free Birds and Fish

CW: Nonhuman whumpee (merman trapped in human form), Minor whumpee, Branding, magical whump, age of sail piracy, noncon (nonsexual) touch, Implied fear of noncon, past whump, chains and rope ties, strangulation, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, multiple whumpers,

~~~

Kevin thought about making a break for it as soon as he felt the wind on his face above deck. He thought about wiggling free of the pirates' hands as they moved him from one prison ship to the next. But as inviting as the sea below should have been, his ability to survive within it was still out of reach to him, that lightning that fueled his transformation, that gave him gills and a tail was dampened. And with his hands bound and mouth gagged, he would surely drown like any common human.

So he let them lead him to their ship. Let them shove him into a corner with the rats. He wasn't there long before being hauled back up to the top deck.

He had been introduced to Captain Irwin Swail, of the Flying Fortune, and his tobacco laden breath during the transfer, but being shoved to the ground before him now made his stomach turn. He bared his teeth around the rag in his mouth as cruel hands pulled his head back by his hair, making him squint into the sun spilling around the edges of the pirate captain.

"Now, now, little one, there's no need for that. In fact, this poor attitude of yours makes me think that This is all the more necessary." The pirate pulled back on the gag, making it dig into the corner of his mouth painfully.

Kevin squirmed, trying to dislodge himself from his captor's grip, but all he got was pain in his scalp as his hair pulled, and then the pain of being dropped to the deck and kicked hard in the stomach.

"Tie it up," he heard the captain order over his own wheezing. He was pulled from his curled position and spread out, hands untied enough so they could be retied around a mast of the ship, and his feet the same. He struggled again, but it earned a crushing weight on the back of his neck this time, pinning his face into the wood of the mast.

The captain leaned against the mast himself, leisurely, in Kevin's line of sight where his face was pressed, and pulled something out of his pocket.

"You know what this is, boy?"

What a stupid question. Like he could answer. Some kind of locket, likely a compass given the engraving of a compass on it. A fancy one, all gold chain, likely stolen.

"Seems not, you'd be more afraid if you did."

Kevin bared his teeth around the gag and hissed. He wasn't afraid of some dainty bauble. Do your fucking worst asshole.

The pirate almost seemed amused. "Well, you'll learn soon enough." To his men he said, "Get me that fire, and the collar. I don't want it flopping around and messing with the clean mark."

Collar? Nooo thank you. He tried in vain to elbow the pirate holding him still, getting a leg free, anything, but all it got him was jeers and taunts.

A thick metal collar was clamped around his throat with a deafening, scraping click, and a chain pulled taught, nailed above his head. he had to strain to stand as straight and tall as he could to lessen the digging into his throat.

He heard the thunk of something heavy and metal set behind him, out of his squirming field of view. Then he heard the crackling of a fire. Ohh ho no thank you. He renewed his efforts of at least pulling a hand free and figuring it out from there.

The pirates then cut off his shirt, not being in the slightest careful of slicing him along with it. He let out a yelp at the pain and sudden exposure. This did not discourage any of them.

He felt a weight press behind him again, and the cold flat of a knife against his belly.

"Shhh, little fish. Stop squirmin' or I'll cut you open like one. I wonder how different you are on the inside, really."

Kevin tried to still, which was difficult with the shiver running up his spine.

"Hm, cold, little lad? Don't you worry none."

No no no, not like that. Not with fire, not with touch, just let him down, please let this be over soon.

The pirate stepped back, and the captain took his place. Except instead of holding a knife to his guts, he was touching him, touching the bare skin of his back, which prickled under the touch.

"Technically, it doesn't seem to matter where it's placed, but traditionally it's placed somewhere over the spine. Some superstition about north and the creature's center, I've heard. But there's nothing wrong with that." He was going to brand him. He was going to brand him and he could barely move an inch to stop him.

Then, shifting behind him. "You're going to be thankful for that gag in a moment," the captain said into his ear. And a branding iron was pressed into his back.

Kevin screamed as the blinding pain seared into the flesh between his shoulder blades, his entire body straining against the blazing touch. Spots danced in his vision against the afternoon sky, and he didn't realize the iron was pulled away, or that he was choking himself on the collar until it was given slack.

The captain patted his cheek. "Attaboy lad, it looks great already."

Fuck you. I hate you. Why- This doesn't make me yours.

"Bring it below, we'll get it stowed away properly."

His hands and feet were untied from the mast, and hands retied in a criss cross position around him, like a mockery of a hug and gave him no room to use his hands. It stretches out the skin where the brand is, he realized too.

He still tried to fight them, as he was brought below, but knew it wouldn't be successful. They brought him through cramped corridors until they reached a small room cut in half with iron bars. A brig. There was no mattress, no blanket, no hammock. Nothing to suggest any kind of comfort whatsoever as he was shoved into that tiny space. The floor would have to do, and at least its the wooden floor of a ship and not the cold stone floor of a land side prison cell.

They pressed him to the bars then, the pirate on the other side holding him in place by the collar, the chain still attached. The leash they had him on. His legs were spread with a kick, and shackled despite his bucking and kicking. No, he wasn't going to just let them have him like this.

His face was once again briefly pressed to the bars, redundantly and cruelly given the collar never really left where it was held in place, and suddenly the hand in his hair left and the world spun around.

He yelped as he swung, feet up in the air, suddenly attached to the ceiling.

"There you go. Would be a waste of time to let you roll around on the dirty floor and catch infection." Kevin snarled at the remark. "And you might learn some manners too. Hit him."

His arms were crossed but they still found a way to land a hit to his lower guts. He wheezed at the strike, curling in on himself. Fuck you. You could have bandaged me. Or not branded me in the first place.

"Let it swing like that for a bit. No, anchor it in place to the floor with a little slack first. If it passes out, put it standing up, but keep the wound clean, keep its legs spread. It'll be awhile to break this one, I want to conserve the potion some."

Okay. That's ok, the bar is just to keep him from transforming. The captain left, and the pirates given orders weren't gentle in fastening him down. He was curled forward slightly, just enough to strain with the way they connected his bound hands to the bar, then connected the collar to the floor, straining him back.

He did indeed have a little slack in the chain, enough to not immediately snap his neck as the ship rolled in the waves, but not enough to curl up, to defend his stomach or snap at anyone.

"How long do you think it'll take for it to pass out?"

"My copper's on a few hours. He's still human enough."

"Nah, it's a fighter, young. It can go at least a day."

"It looks human, but it's not. It probably won't pass out at all. It's magic and everything right."

Oh my god would the lot of you shut it. Kevin rolled his eyes and tried to relax into a more comfortable position, which was difficult. His ankles were already starting to feel the strain, and pulling on the rope attaching his wrists to the spreader bar to relieve that pressure was also taxing. His back still throbbed, and spiked when he strained his arms, but it felt better than he expected a burn like that to hurt. Surely this position wasn't meant to actually help?

He was jostled back into an awareness of his blithering captors. He glared at the interruption, and they seemed to enjoy their little bet.

This was going to be a long voyage, to wherever it was they were headed.

~

The captain returned after some time. He examined the brand, remarking how it was already healing along nicely.

"Now, I bet you're hungry, lad." The captain grabbed him by the hair to force him to look up at him. "But that gag is on ya' for a reason. I'll feed you, but you have to behave, understand? You bite me, and it'll be a week without food for you."

Kevin nodded. He wouldn't bite until he had a plan, anyway. Until he had a way out. Tied up like this, what would biting do? Get his teeth pulled out probably.

The gag was untied, and it made him realize how far apart his jaw was really wedged. He found it difficult to drink efficiently from the water canteen brought to his lips, gulping down (up?) what he could despite the amount escaping to run rivulets across his face and into his hair and to the deck. It was salt water, likely pulled straight from the ocean which was fine, his body could handle salt water. And it meant the pirates weren't mad with the waste of it. The opposite, if anything. They seemed far too amused by the mess he was making.

He pulled the water away. Kevin hung there, coughing slightly given the awkward position and sudden intake of water.

"Got anything to say, little fish?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd have to Ask you for the good stuff."

"And you might show some gratitude then."

"Right. Anyway you said something about food?"

Like he was going to be Grateful for any basic decency like food or water while he was a prisoner. If they wanted thanks they could let him go. Instead, they decided to put a knee very forcefully to his cheek, hitting him hard enough for the collar to dig into the side of his neck as he reached the limits of the chain before letting him swing back to position.

"Fuck you-"

Another punch to his gut to silence him.

"Well, boys, looks like it's not hungry today. Gag it back up, we'll try again tomorrow."

Kevin resisted the gag, but thick leather gloves pried his teeth apart to insert the cloth there, before wrapping another one around the outside of his mouth and leaving him up to dry.

~

He wasn't allowed to sleep a wink all night, the pirates' bet saw to that. If he could speak, he would have told them they were idiots, that merfolk tend to live at the bottom of the ocean where the pressure is greater than being turned on your head in the air, so he's not going to pass out, they're just depriving him of regular sleep. It wouldn't matter, probably. not when there was money on the line and they didn't give a shit about his comfort. But he would have liked to be able to say it to their faces.

If the bells over head (below foot?) rung once an hour and his sense of time not too scrambled from lack of skylight or sleep, It was midday when the captain strode back in. He had the handkerchief on his mouth moved to cover his eyes before removing the one from inside his mouth. Kevin didn't know what the point of that was. It probably didn't mean they were moving him since they didn't blindfold him before. And he was already bound so tight, what would he do with his vision but glare angrily anyway.

Once again the salt water canteen was brought to his lips, and he drank until it was pulled away. A hand curled into his hair, steadying him.

"Open up, boy."

He had already not been fed for at least a day before the pirates got him, and it's been over a day here. He opened his mouth, and hoped it was for food.

Instead, a shiver passed down (up?) his spine as the unmistakable sharp tang of a knife blade was rested flat against his tongue.

"You feel that, little fish, hmm? I want to sell you whole, worth more that way. But chances are, your buyer doesn't Need you for your tongue." A snicker from the peanuts gallery did not help to calm him down. "Behave, and I won't have to cut it out. Are you gonna behave for me?"

Kevin nodded, a slight movement was all it needed with the grip on his head, and the blade withdrew. He was then given a bite of salted beef by the tip of presumably same knife. What, pirates don't believe in forks? His stomach growled as the meat was pressed to his lips.

He took it, delicately, wary of the blades edge he couldn't see. The hand left its steadying grip on his hair at some point, leaving him to the hazard of being rocked by the boat and unable to steady himself at all. Each bite of the preserved meat felt like it was taking hours to chew, his position wasn't helping this either. But all too soon, the captain decided he was done.

"Wait!" He said as he felt the room shift, felt the captain getting ready to gag him again. "Let me down. Please. Let me sleep."

"Now, why would i do that?"

"Because I'm tired! I still need sleep, I thought you wanted me to heal, I can't do that on no sleep and barely any food."

The captain's boots thunked as he walked around him. "Have you ever been burned before, boy? I see no other brandings, but surely you know what it feels like?"

"Uh, yeah?" what kid hasn't touched a hot stove not knowing yet why you're not supposed to do that?

"Then tell me, does this feel like that?" The captain pressed the brand on his back, softly at first, the touch making his skin crawl, then harder, until he gasped in pain. "Hmm? Do you always recover so quickly that not two days later the pain has subsided so quickly?"

"I- no, I guess not."

"Good. If you're so eager, I'll let you down tomorrow." The captain pulled the gag between his teeth, and the blindfold back over his mouth. "You're going to thank me for giving you one more day of reprieve."

He patted Kevin's cheek condescendingly, as if he was actually doing him a favor, and left him to mull over what he might have meant.

~

As reprieves go, he's had better. Every hour that passed only made him more and more tired, and made it that much more difficult to hold himself up and relieve the pressure of the manacles on his ankles. They could have at least used rope, it would have some give to it. And with nothing to fill his time but the boring chatter of his captors, he found himself poked and kicked awake more and more.

He was glad to find the captain finally returned, for there was a chance he would keep his word and let him down.

He removed the gag first. "You know, little fish, this brand is barely a few days old and yet it looks to be completely healed. I'd say its time to test it out."

He heard the captain take a step back, and immediately this back erupted in fire. The shock knocked the wind out of him at first, the pain locking every muscle in his body before he finally freed his lungs to scream.

And he did scream until the searing pain finally subsided, leaving a warm afterglow in the brand's place. He flinched hard when the captain touched him again, he tried so hard to steady his breathing before the next one came. Instead, the captain ordered with a sick laugh to let him down.

"Now behave, boy, or I'll do it again. Now what do you say?"

Kevin hit the deck with a thud, arms still bound so he couldn't control his fall, legs still manacled to the bar. "Fuck you."

Another burst of pain, this one not as intense. "I meant for letting you down, not for this."

He could see what the captain held, it was the compass he used to brand him. He tried very hard not to shrink away in fear. He tried to stand instead, a more dignified position. The bar still forced him into a wide stance, and with his hands bound it was hard to really grab anything to steady himself, but it helped some to simply touch the wall.

"I thought you wanted to sleep. Its gonna be hard to do that standing." A devilish grin. "I could help with that."

He did want to sleep, but the danger in the air was electric. He wasn't going to take whatever the captain had planned lying down. But there was also no response that wasn't a bad idea. Might as well make them make him lie down.

He wouldn't submit, not yet. He would let them think this was all he could do, snarl and yell, and when their guard is down and the chains loose, that's when he'll strike. He did it before, he'll do it again.

So he snarled. "Stay the fuck away from me!"

"Of course, little one." The captain fiddled with the compass and his brand prickled, in warning likely. "Have you ever actually seen one of these? Hm, looks like not. Well, little fish, this is going to be a much more effective leash than the chain around your neck." The pain grew by a notch, as the captain touched the compass. Kevin narrowed his eyes.

"You are going to come to me." More pain, still bearable. "You are going to kneel at my feet, do as I tell you, and the pain will go away."

"As if I would ever do as you say."

The captain hummed, unconcerned as the pain jumped. Kevin tried not to let it show on his face. This wasn't a battle he was going to win, but he could hold out a little bit more. And the pain jumped higher and higher. Kevin had held a hand over a candle, once. Felt how the gentle warmth turned to a stabbing shock of pain he withdrew from quickly. This felt a lot like that. And he had a limit here too.

A wave rolled the boat, and he fell to his knees. "Okay! okay I will!" The pain lessened but did not completely subside.

"Then come. Right here." the captain snapped and pointed to the space in front of him, like Kevin was a dog to command. The captain was impatient now.

Kevin tried to stand and walk, but he fell again quickly as he tried to cross the room without a wall to steady him, to the amusement of the crew he was doing his best to ignore. He made it to the captain's feet on sore knees, and the pain in the brand did go away.

"Good, little fish." The compass was hanging around his neck now, being tucked away for safe keeping, and freeing his hands to pat his head and grab the collar chain. Kevin tried to shrink away, leaning back on his heels, but where could he go?

"This was your first lesson. You come when called." Kevin was dragged by the chain the last few steps to the wall of iron bars where the chain was fastened, too high up for him to lay down. It was still enough to rest his head against as the ankle bar was locked into place as well. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better.

"Tomorrow we'll work on reinforcing that rule, and start on that attitude of yours. But for now, eat and sleep. I bet That lesson will take longer to instill in you."

[pyrepostings]

My favorite writing quirk I'm noticing I'm developing is *character asserts something in their internal monologue is happening for specific reasons it's totally figured out* *Character is completely blindsided by jumping to conclusions way too fast, it's actually way worse buddy*

[pyrepostings]

The Compass

Free Birds and Fish

CW: Nonhuman whumpee (merman trapped in human form), Minor whumpee, Branding, magical whump, age of sail piracy, noncon (nonsexual) touch, Implied fear of noncon, past whump, chains and rope ties, strangulation, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, multiple whumpers,

~~~

Kevin thought about making a break for it as soon as he felt the wind on his face above deck. He thought about wiggling free of the pirates' hands as they moved him from one prison ship to the next. But as inviting as the sea below should have been, his ability to survive within it was still out of reach to him, that lightning that fueled his transformation, that gave him gills and a tail was dampened. And with his hands bound and mouth gagged, he would surely drown like any common human.

So he let them lead him to their ship. Let them shove him into a corner with the rats. He wasn't there long before being hauled back up to the top deck.

He had been introduced to Captain Irwin Swail, of the Flying Fortune, and his tobacco laden breath during the transfer, but being shoved to the ground before him now made his stomach turn. He bared his teeth around the rag in his mouth as cruel hands pulled his head back by his hair, making him squint into the sun spilling around the edges of the pirate captain.

"Now, now, little one, there's no need for that. In fact, this poor attitude of yours makes me think that This is all the more necessary." The pirate pulled back on the gag, making it dig into the corner of his mouth painfully.

Kevin squirmed, trying to dislodge himself from his captor's grip, but all he got was pain in his scalp as his hair pulled, and then the pain of being dropped to the deck and kicked hard in the stomach.

"Tie it up," he heard the captain order over his own wheezing. He was pulled from his curled position and spread out, hands untied enough so they could be retied around a mast of the ship, and his feet the same. He struggled again, but it earned a crushing weight on the back of his neck this time, pinning his face into the wood of the mast.

The captain leaned against the mast himself, leisurely, in Kevin's line of sight where his face was pressed, and pulled something out of his pocket.

"You know what this is, boy?"

What a stupid question. Like he could answer. Some kind of locket, likely a compass given the engraving of a compass on it. A fancy one, all gold chain, likely stolen.

"Seems not, you'd be more afraid if you did."

Kevin bared his teeth around the gag and hissed. He wasn't afraid of some dainty bauble. Do your fucking worst asshole.

The pirate almost seemed amused. "Well, you'll learn soon enough." To his men he said, "Get me that fire, and the collar. I don't want it flopping around and messing with the clean mark."

Collar? Nooo thank you. He tried in vain to elbow the pirate holding him still, getting a leg free, anything, but all it got him was jeers and taunts.

A thick metal collar was clamped around his throat with a deafening, scraping click, and a chain pulled taught, nailed above his head. he had to strain to stand as straight and tall as he could to lessen the digging into his throat.

He heard the thunk of something heavy and metal set behind him, out of his squirming field of view. Then he heard the crackling of a fire. Ohh ho no thank you. He renewed his efforts of at least pulling a hand free and figuring it out from there.

The pirates then cut off his shirt, not being in the slightest careful of slicing him along with it. He let out a yelp at the pain and sudden exposure. This did not discourage any of them.

He felt a weight press behind him again, and the cold flat of a knife against his belly.

"Shhh, little fish. Stop squirmin' or I'll cut you open like one. I wonder how different you are on the inside, really."

Kevin tried to still, which was difficult with the shiver running up his spine.

"Hm, cold, little lad? Don't you worry none."

No no no, not like that. Not with fire, not with touch, just let him down, please let this be over soon.

The pirate stepped back, and the captain took his place. Except instead of holding a knife to his guts, he was touching him, touching the bare skin of his back, which prickled under the touch.

"Technically, it doesn't seem to matter where it's placed, but traditionally it's placed somewhere over the spine. Some superstition about north and the creature's center, I've heard. But there's nothing wrong with that." He was going to brand him. He was going to brand him and he could barely move an inch to stop him.

Then, shifting behind him. "You're going to be thankful for that gag in a moment," the captain said into his ear. And a branding iron was pressed into his back.

Kevin screamed as the blinding pain seared into the flesh between his shoulder blades, his entire body straining against the blazing touch. Spots danced in his vision against the afternoon sky, and he didn't realize the iron was pulled away, or that he was choking himself on the collar until it was given slack.

The captain patted his cheek. "Attaboy lad, it looks great already."

Fuck you. I hate you. Why- This doesn't make me yours.

"Bring it below, we'll get it stowed away properly."

His hands and feet were untied from the mast, and hands retied in a criss cross position around him, like a mockery of a hug and gave him no room to use his hands. It stretches out the skin where the brand is, he realized too.

He still tried to fight them, as he was brought below, but knew it wouldn't be successful. They brought him through cramped corridors until they reached a small room cut in half with iron bars. A brig. There was no mattress, no blanket, no hammock. Nothing to suggest any kind of comfort whatsoever as he was shoved into that tiny space. The floor would have to do, and at least its the wooden floor of a ship and not the cold stone floor of a land side prison cell.

They pressed him to the bars then, the pirate on the other side holding him in place by the collar, the chain still attached. The leash they had him on. His legs were spread with a kick, and shackled despite his bucking and kicking. No, he wasn't going to just let them have him like this.

His face was once again briefly pressed to the bars, redundantly and cruelly given the collar never really left where it was held in place, and suddenly the hand in his hair left and the world spun around.

He yelped as he swung, feet up in the air, suddenly attached to the ceiling.

"There you go. Would be a waste of time to let you roll around on the dirty floor and catch infection." Kevin snarled at the remark. "And you might learn some manners too. Hit him."

His arms were crossed but they still found a way to land a hit to his lower guts. He wheezed at the strike, curling in on himself. Fuck you. You could have bandaged me. Or not branded me in the first place.

"Let it swing like that for a bit. No, anchor it in place to the floor with a little slack first. If it passes out, put it standing up, but keep the wound clean, keep its legs spread. It'll be awhile to break this one, I want to conserve the potion some."

Okay. That's ok, the bar is just to keep him from transforming. The captain left, and the pirates given orders weren't gentle in fastening him down. He was curled forward slightly, just enough to strain with the way they connected his bound hands to the bar, then connected the collar to the floor, straining him back.

He did indeed have a little slack in the chain, enough to not immediately snap his neck as the ship rolled in the waves, but not enough to curl up, to defend his stomach or snap at anyone.

"How long do you think it'll take for it to pass out?"

"My copper's on a few hours. He's still human enough."

"Nah, it's a fighter, young. It can go at least a day."

"It looks human, but it's not. It probably won't pass out at all. It's magic and everything right."

Oh my god would the lot of you shut it. Kevin rolled his eyes and tried to relax into a more comfortable position, which was difficult. His ankles were already starting to feel the strain, and pulling on the rope attaching his wrists to the spreader bar to relieve that pressure was also taxing. His back still throbbed, and spiked when he strained his arms, but it felt better than he expected a burn like that to hurt. Surely this position wasn't meant to actually help?

He was jostled back into an awareness of his blithering captors. He glared at the interruption, and they seemed to enjoy their little bet.

This was going to be a long voyage, to wherever it was they were headed.

~

The captain returned after some time. He examined the brand, remarking how it was already healing along nicely.

"Now, I bet you're hungry, lad." The captain grabbed him by the hair to force him to look up at him. "But that gag is on ya' for a reason. I'll feed you, but you have to behave, understand? You bite me, and it'll be a week without food for you."

Kevin nodded. He wouldn't bite until he had a plan, anyway. Until he had a way out. Tied up like this, what would biting do? Get his teeth pulled out probably.

The gag was untied, and it made him realize how far apart his jaw was really wedged. He found it difficult to drink efficiently from the water canteen brought to his lips, gulping down (up?) what he could despite the amount escaping to run rivulets across his face and into his hair and to the deck. It was salt water, likely pulled straight from the ocean which was fine, his body could handle salt water. And it meant the pirates weren't mad with the waste of it. The opposite, if anything. They seemed far too amused by the mess he was making.

He pulled the water away. Kevin hung there, coughing slightly given the awkward position and sudden intake of water.

"Got anything to say, little fish?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd have to Ask you for the good stuff."

"And you might show some gratitude then."

"Right. Anyway you said something about food?"

Like he was going to be Grateful for any basic decency like food or water while he was a prisoner. If they wanted thanks they could let him go. Instead, they decided to put a knee very forcefully to his cheek, hitting him hard enough for the collar to dig into the side of his neck as he reached the limits of the chain before letting him swing back to position.

"Fuck you-"

Another punch to his gut to silence him.

"Well, boys, looks like it's not hungry today. Gag it back up, we'll try again tomorrow."

Kevin resisted the gag, but thick leather gloves pried his teeth apart to insert the cloth there, before wrapping another one around the outside of his mouth and leaving him up to dry.

~

He wasn't allowed to sleep a wink all night, the pirates' bet saw to that. If he could speak, he would have told them they were idiots, that merfolk tend to live at the bottom of the ocean where the pressure is greater than being turned on your head in the air, so he's not going to pass out, they're just depriving him of regular sleep. It wouldn't matter, probably. not when there was money on the line and they didn't give a shit about his comfort. But he would have liked to be able to say it to their faces.

If the bells over head (below foot?) rung once an hour and his sense of time not too scrambled from lack of skylight or sleep, It was midday when the captain strode back in. He had the handkerchief on his mouth moved to cover his eyes before removing the one from inside his mouth. Kevin didn't know what the point of that was. It probably didn't mean they were moving him since they didn't blindfold him before. And he was already bound so tight, what would he do with his vision but glare angrily anyway.

Once again the salt water canteen was brought to his lips, and he drank until it was pulled away. A hand curled into his hair, steadying him.

"Open up, boy."

He had already not been fed for at least a day before the pirates got him, and it's been over a day here. He opened his mouth, and hoped it was for food.

Instead, a shiver passed down (up?) his spine as the unmistakable sharp tang of a knife blade was rested flat against his tongue.

"You feel that, little fish, hmm? I want to sell you whole, worth more that way. But chances are, your buyer doesn't Need you for your tongue." A snicker from the peanuts gallery did not help to calm him down. "Behave, and I won't have to cut it out. Are you gonna behave for me?"

Kevin nodded, a slight movement was all it needed with the grip on his head, and the blade withdrew. He was then given a bite of salted beef by the tip of presumably same knife. What, pirates don't believe in forks? His stomach growled as the meat was pressed to his lips.

He took it, delicately, wary of the blades edge he couldn't see. The hand left its steadying grip on his hair at some point, leaving him to the hazard of being rocked by the boat and unable to steady himself at all. Each bite of the preserved meat felt like it was taking hours to chew, his position wasn't helping this either. But all too soon, the captain decided he was done.

"Wait!" He said as he felt the room shift, felt the captain getting ready to gag him again. "Let me down. Please. Let me sleep."

"Now, why would i do that?"

"Because I'm tired! I still need sleep, I thought you wanted me to heal, I can't do that on no sleep and barely any food."

The captain's boots thunked as he walked around him. "Have you ever been burned before, boy? I see no other brandings, but surely you know what it feels like?"

"Uh, yeah?" what kid hasn't touched a hot stove not knowing yet why you're not supposed to do that?

"Then tell me, does this feel like that?" The captain pressed the brand on his back, softly at first, the touch making his skin crawl, then harder, until he gasped in pain. "Hmm? Do you always recover so quickly that not two days later the pain has subsided so quickly?"

"I- no, I guess not."

"Good. If you're so eager, I'll let you down tomorrow." The captain pulled the gag between his teeth, and the blindfold back over his mouth. "You're going to thank me for giving you one more day of reprieve."

He patted Kevin's cheek condescendingly, as if he was actually doing him a favor, and left him to mull over what he might have meant.

~

As reprieves go, he's had better. Every hour that passed only made him more and more tired, and made it that much more difficult to hold himself up and relieve the pressure of the manacles on his ankles. They could have at least used rope, it would have some give to it. And with nothing to fill his time but the boring chatter of his captors, he found himself poked and kicked awake more and more.

He was glad to find the captain finally returned, for there was a chance he would keep his word and let him down.

He removed the gag first. "You know, little fish, this brand is barely a few days old and yet it looks to be completely healed. I'd say its time to test it out."

He heard the captain take a step back, and immediately this back erupted in fire. The shock knocked the wind out of him at first, the pain locking every muscle in his body before he finally freed his lungs to scream.

And he did scream until the searing pain finally subsided, leaving a warm afterglow in the brand's place. He flinched hard when the captain touched him again, he tried so hard to steady his breathing before the next one came. Instead, the captain ordered with a sick laugh to let him down.

"Now behave, boy, or I'll do it again. Now what do you say?"

Kevin hit the deck with a thud, arms still bound so he couldn't control his fall, legs still manacled to the bar. "Fuck you."

Another burst of pain, this one not as intense. "I meant for letting you down, not for this."

He could see what the captain held, it was the compass he used to brand him. He tried very hard not to shrink away in fear. He tried to stand instead, a more dignified position. The bar still forced him into a wide stance, and with his hands bound it was hard to really grab anything to steady himself, but it helped some to simply touch the wall.

"I thought you wanted to sleep. Its gonna be hard to do that standing." A devilish grin. "I could help with that."

He did want to sleep, but the danger in the air was electric. He wasn't going to take whatever the captain had planned lying down. But there was also no response that wasn't a bad idea. Might as well make them make him lie down.

He wouldn't submit, not yet. He would let them think this was all he could do, snarl and yell, and when their guard is down and the chains loose, that's when he'll strike. He did it before, he'll do it again.

So he snarled. "Stay the fuck away from me!"

"Of course, little one." The captain fiddled with the compass and his brand prickled, in warning likely. "Have you ever actually seen one of these? Hm, looks like not. Well, little fish, this is going to be a much more effective leash than the chain around your neck." The pain grew by a notch, as the captain touched the compass. Kevin narrowed his eyes.

"You are going to come to me." More pain, still bearable. "You are going to kneel at my feet, do as I tell you, and the pain will go away."

"As if I would ever do as you say."

The captain hummed, unconcerned as the pain jumped. Kevin tried not to let it show on his face. This wasn't a battle he was going to win, but he could hold out a little bit more. And the pain jumped higher and higher. Kevin had held a hand over a candle, once. Felt how the gentle warmth turned to a stabbing shock of pain he withdrew from quickly. This felt a lot like that. And he had a limit here too.

A wave rolled the boat, and he fell to his knees. "Okay! okay I will!" The pain lessened but did not completely subside.

"Then come. Right here." the captain snapped and pointed to the space in front of him, like Kevin was a dog to command. The captain was impatient now.

Kevin tried to stand and walk, but he fell again quickly as he tried to cross the room without a wall to steady him, to the amusement of the crew he was doing his best to ignore. He made it to the captain's feet on sore knees, and the pain in the brand did go away.

"Good, little fish." The compass was hanging around his neck now, being tucked away for safe keeping, and freeing his hands to pat his head and grab the collar chain. Kevin tried to shrink away, leaning back on his heels, but where could he go?

"This was your first lesson. You come when called." Kevin was dragged by the chain the last few steps to the wall of iron bars where the chain was fastened, too high up for him to lay down. It was still enough to rest his head against as the ankle bar was locked into place as well. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better.

"Tomorrow we'll work on reinforcing that rule, and start on that attitude of yours. But for now, eat and sleep. I bet That lesson will take longer to instill in you."

[pyrepostings]

*spellchecking the mermay piece I said I was going to publish on the 11th* wow I sure do typo it as 'hamd' a lot

[lilixloveswhump]

If you guys ever use my prompts please tag me so that I can read your creations because I am so so so so nosy

[pyrepostings]

au of fbafish where the pirates actually cut out his tongue because he wont shut the fuck up

[pyrepostings]

Playing the hitman game and I was already thinking it was very living weapon (protag doesn't even have a fucking name only Identifies himself with a number and has a barcode on his skull you wonder how That doesn't get in the way of missions) but Then I just got to listen to someone ream out soldiers for questioning orders.

Imagine you're agent 47. You carry out orders. You're very good at carrying out orders. You just went on several missions where your choice of targets might have left a sour taste in your mouth if you thought about it. But You don't think about it, you're Agent 47. You follow orders.

Today's mission already had you kill a man your target had in an interrogation cell. A mercy killing, perhaps. Perhaps you were only following the secondary orders from a little blip on your hud. It doesn't matter, you have the interrogator and three other targets to take care of today. You are Agent 47. You follow orders.

Looking through your intel packet, the interrogator dealt with, determining the most efficient next steps, you are reminded one of your marks is here as a turncoat. It says she was disillusioned with the way the powers that be operate. You don't think about what that means really, and flip to another page. Someone with a valuable uniform is isolated, good. You follow orders.

You saunter through the gates of the shooting range, new uniform, full face mask and all. The guards barely give you a second glance this time as they let you through. You watch a drill commanded by one of your targets. She's very demanding, but what commander wouldn't be? Shame she's on the wrong side. Then her soldiers have the Gall to question her. To ask the point of the drill if their comrade (the one you finished off) was out due to injury (and it sounds like he wasn't the first).

You consider using this information to better worm your way into the operation, find where the squad will be spread too thin for this kind of operation and better kneecap it. You hear her yell at her soldiers. Call them tools. Your gaze drifts to some window and you take in your current appearance as she yells at her soldiers for daring to question her behind you. It's the first costume change all day that got you so incredibly close to your starting outfit. All black, tactical. The main difference is this one completely obscures the face. A perfect weapon's facade. Because you are Agent 47. You never question orders.

[pyrepostings]

I think it would be cool if the brand on his back translates to a similar brand on a frilly dorsal fin when he transforms.

Because I figure he needs a frilly dorsal fin, but I don't want to cover the brand up. And this way it creates a sort of flag/painted sail effect, a flag he never wanted to fly. And possibly a secondary eye-spot (because its round), but on a fin he would actually need to use to maneuver and therefore unfortunate for a predator to target.

[pyrepostings]

whumpee who thought they had grown out of their childhood carsickness, only to learn by being suffed in a trunk that it just really helps to be able to see the road.

[pyrepostings]

It leaned into their touch. "I'm sorry, about all of this. I probably seem like a stranger to you now."

"A little bit, yeah."

[pyrepostings]

Honestly I'm still thinking about the best line in GOT. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to pretend to be someone you're not. I need you to pretend to be Theon Greyjoy."

The using his status without loosing his hold. The line delivery being slowly given so that if youre insane enough you figure it out before he's done talking. The way Theon would be protecting himself by throwing himself into the Reek role, only to be ordered to touch his old life with his fingertips, to be burned like on a hot stove with memories of the torture that got him where he is now.

Normally when I'm rotating a blorbo, I'm putting them in a ballerina music box but in this case I am biting down hard and death rolling like an alligator.

[pyrepostings]

having an aspect of the dehumanisation be shown through who calls him by he/him pronouns and who calls him by it/its is like one time writing in another tense and then forever being cursed to edit it to he and he to it until the end of time

[pyrepostings]

Bruh just give me a number. How long can someone hang upside down before fainting or other effects. experts suggest not going more than a minute, but also people have gone days with only mild breaks. Like No One has numbers about how long a skinny white male can go before feeling lightheaded at least?? Nasa hasn't given yall numbers to work with?

[pyrepostings]

oh. well that was easy.

[pyrepostings]

Bruh just give me a number. How long can someone hang upside down before fainting or other effects. experts suggest not going more than a minute, but also people have gone days with only mild breaks. Like No One has numbers about how long a skinny white male can go before feeling lightheaded at least?? Nasa hasn't given yall numbers to work with?