#whump ish

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

-So'tey Drabble-

Set during the From the Ashes DLC, at the end of "Ash on the Wind". Spoilers for the DLC!

>——> SO'LEK <——<

The first thing he became aware of was pain. It seared through him with the vengeance of a pack of furious Nantang, biting and clawing, every injury making itself known in an overwhelming din as he opened his eyes.

"Tamtey…?"

Tamtey, one of the last of the Sarentu, a clan that refused to die no matter how much the RDA tried to end them; Tamtey, who had gone from a naive young Na'vi to a fearless warrior, a scourge on the RDA; Tamtey, the woman who haunted his thoughts more than he liked to admit… but Fire and Ash had scourged TAP- and any trace of Tamtey from the earth now.

The metal fortress of TAP had been reduced to no more than a cavern of smouldering rubble, a blight on the once lush lands of Pandora.

So'lek imagined it was intended to be his grave.

Good. Let them think that…

He knew well enough to presume him dead was a mistake on the RDA's part- and the Mangkwan, as he'd had the recent displeasure of learning his enemies had allied with. Yet as noisy a shadow as Tamtey may accuse him of being, none would expect the shadow of a dead man to sneak up behind them…

Yes… to forget him was to underestimate him. He'd faced worse odds before.

He could do it again. He must…

And yet weak and injured as he was, he could not stalk so readily after his prey. He knew he must heal, and strike only when he was ready. Any sooner, and he could fail the one he…

Tamtey… He would fail her again.

He had already failed her once. Let her be taken… The pang of fear and grief at the thought hit like a grenade, almost worse than the pain of his injuries.

"…Tamtey…" he whispered aloud again. Even with his voice so cracked and broken, he'd no hope she could hear him had he screamed it at the top of his lungs. Whether she was with Eywa, or them… He knew not what he feared more.

The torture she would be enduring whilst he was powerless to find her, the RDA and their sickening methods only twisted evermore brutal by the Mangkwan…

…or that her pain could already be at an end.

No.

No, she could not be dead.

"Kamfpíl…" [focus…] So'lek told himself, digging in the hand that clutched his injured side in the hopes a jolt of pain might clear his mind of the sheer horror of the thought.

"Rutxe, Eywa. Rä'ã fmong ma… ma 'eylan ftu ta oe…" [Please, Eywa. Do not take my… my friend from me…]

His plea was a breathless murmur in the eerily quiet landscape. The only melody Eywa gave him was the crackling of embers, the wind tugging charred leaves from branches, the dying whimper of a creature too unlucky to have been claimed quickly from the flames.

So'lek instinctively followed the sound.

"Tslolam, tsmukan…" [I know, brother…] "...I am on my way..."

It didn't take him long to find it, a great Palulukan wrought low. Its dagger-like claws weakly raked at the ground following furrows it had clearly been carving for days, back limbs crushed under a fallen tree. Its skin smouldered, soot and dirt half piled over it. Shuddering breaths sent the ash whisping into the air in tiny clouds. The Palulukan sensed him there and hissed furiously, too weak to roar, its weak struggles frenzying as the apex beast turned prey to this unknown threat.

"Mawey, Palulukan," So'lek soothed, moving into the Palulukan's eyeline. "...tam tam…" [Be calm, Thanator, it's alright…]

"I am sorry for what they have done to you, mighty one." So'lek continued softly as he drew his knife. He suppressed a wince as the movement jarred his injuries, but refused to let himself falter now.

The Palulukan's eye flicked to his blade, then back up at him. Something in its terror fillws gaze seemed to calm as if the creature understood what it was So'lek offered him, but it snarled again when So'lek shifted closer.

"Return to Eywa, ma 'eylan, may you find peace from your pain."

With a well placed thrust of his blade the mighty beast gave one last agonised shudder before it sunk lifeless into the dirt. As if punished for the action of taking such a life, So'lek found himself hissing against the pain of his own injuries, forehead pressing into the leathery skin of the Palulukan's side, still warm, but it would not be for long. So'lek knew well enough if he didn't wish to join his fallen friend now then it would take a great deal of time and rest to heal...

But rest he could ill afford.

"So be it..." He growled, eyeing the Palulukan, allowing the ferocity of the animal to fester within him. He'd battled this for years, the mantle of the Dog Tag Warrior... he'd spent years studying the Palulukan, even bonded with one, yet the ferocity he'd felt then paled in comparison to this.

There could be no more mercy. There could be no more walking away. So'lek knew he must become as close a friend to pain as he must of his rage, let them fuel him in the battles to come… whether he became the Dog Tag Warrior once more...

... or turned to the Palulukan, hunter in the night. He would do whatever he had to, become whoever he must, endure whatever was thrown at him.

His suffering mattered not. Only one thing did... Tamtey.

All to save her.

<——< TAMTEY >——>

The cold had seeped deep into her bones hours ago, but that was not why Tamtey found herself shivering in the cell she was imprisoned within.

So'lek was gone.

With him, her fight. She'd cried and screamed and raged against her captors, a hellion, they'd called her… but inside she felt hollow.

Hollow in a way she never had before- by Eywa was grief a close companion of hers whether she wanted it or not. She'd lost almost all she held dear, but this… This was something else entirely.

Most akin to losing Ah'ari, perhaps, this deep seated pain of one so close to you ripped away.

But the numbness wasn't enough this time. After Ah'ari had been the following orders, the head down; yes sir no sir three bags full sir, the routine that had brought her solace, becoming just what the RDA wanted, hiding the rebelliousness for fear, fear of the gun that took her sister away… None of that would help her now.

So'lek had been her dawn to the life she finally wanted to live. Now he was gone, all she knew was darkness- that of places far from Pandora, where nighttimes were not lit with the glow of interconnected life. Skypeople darkness. With it, what always followed the Skypeople, Despair and pain.

Pain, a flicker of an ember in the dark. An image of So'lek in her mind.

The Dog-Tag Warrior, ended by their hands. The man she…

…the man she loved. A broken sob escaped her again, no tears left to cry, just pathetoc broken noises… But she did love him. He was all she wanted, no matter that he'd spent sixteen years awake that she had passed sleeping, every fight she made for him, every clan contacted was made for his approval, every connection she fostered with Eywa a desperate desire to understand herself, what it meant to be Sarentu, and to bring him closer to her.

And now he was gone because of her. Lead right into a trap, and they'd fallen for it.

"Get your hands off--!" So'lek's ferocious roar echoed in her ears again. She basked in the warmth of his protection even as she struggled to reconcile with the truth in what had happened.

This same cycle had turned over and over more times than Tamtey could count in this cell. An unwillingness to accept he was dead. The pain of knowing he was. The ember she harbored began to flicker, as hours turned to days locked up here.

The Mangkwan thought they knew fire…

They would baulk at the might of hers.

Tamtey stilled her shivers through sheer will alone and hissed up at the camera hidden in the far left corner.

She would fuel her fire with every ounce of forbidden, unrequited love, every flicker of hope torn away, every rageful roar of flame held within her voice they could not- would not- snuff out.

For him, and him alone she could go on. She would become the Dog-Tag Warrior herself if she had to, a mantle to pass on until the RDA were dead and gone…

She could not give up now. Hollow and broken, greiving and alone, injured and lost- none of it mattered now, even if joining him in Eywa felt so, so appealing, she'd fight with the strength of a thousand feral Thanators if thats what it took to succeed.

They had killed the man she loved.

Tamtey would set their world ablaze to avenge him...

Notes:

Random drabble. If you like it let me know, I may continue it. Tbh I just needed an excuse to write whumpy shit about these two and I am amazed no one has jumped on the whump train for So'lek and Tamtey yet.

Not beta'd or edited. Just wrote this around clients this week since my dumb arse decided I should spend the entirety of reading week/half term from Uni not resting. Nope, instead I dragged myself back the 80 odd miles on public transport to go and tattoo at my old studio for the first time in a year. Aaand I managed to leave my Uni bag in the taxi from the train station so I couldn't finish my Uni work (picking it up tomorrow, thankfully). I am. Very tired.

[fallenwaltz]

When the whump is lowk so good you hit this pose and curl your toes

[pixelz-ink]

Btw I'm creating a fictional drug for Whump that makes the Whumpee unable to fall unconscious from pain, so they have to fall asleep normally. The hell do I call it??

Also an injection substance that gives the Whumpee temporary frostbite without killing them, and can stack effects (so basically the more you use on them, the syringe it is)

Btw I'm making these because I want to write my OC who sings himself to sleep because he can't fall unconscious despite all the bleeding and frostbite <3

And imagining the trembling lyrics as he tries not to look at his blood to calm himself down, or perhaps if he's gagged, then all he can do is hum the lyrics instead :D

Idk advice please, feedback, and what you guys think :D

[fiberpunk027]

WIP Snippet Sunday Time?!

I got tagged by @softeasun, @themontess, and @scoldingdarjeeling all within 24 hours. I think that's a record for me.

Gentle WIP Whenever tags to @woundedsoul12, @teine-mallaichte, @lucretiouswept, and @lola1b. No pressure to actually post, but I'm always happy to see what y'all have brewing. Also, I know some of y'all are deep in DABB season and aren't as crazy as me, constantly working 4-5 WIPs at a time.

A snippet of the next longfic in my HoF, Zukal Tabris' worldstate. This takes place during the events of Inquisition and focuses on the start of their search for a cure for the Calling.

Thunder crashed again, and this time she held strong, tipping her face up to the sky. Lightning flashed behind her closed eyes, but she didn’t let the storm scare her. If she stood here long enough, maybe she would finally feel as clean as the skinned rabbits clenched in her fist. Instead, she felt more like a ghoul the longer the Calling rang in her ears.

The loud snap of a cracking branch caught her attention, obvious even beneath the deafening downpour of rain. As foreign as this place was, nothing could stop her from recognizing when something or someone was stalking her in the darkness. It was impossible to see through the dark and the rain, but she began to inch her way backwards toward the cave's entrance, ears straining for any sound that might warn her of impending attack.

Anxiously, she brandished her dagger, gripping it tight in her only useful hand. The sling dug into her neck from the dead weight of her injured arm, reminding her just how helpless she now was. She glanced back at the cave opening and its gentle glow that looked so safe and inviting. Could she run for the entrance before the unknown assailant reached her?

There was no time for her to find out as a roaring arc of fire extended from the cave and Hawke ran out bellowing like a beast. “Something broke through the wards! Get inside now!” From behind, she felt Anders’ slender fingers grasping her good arm to guide her to safety.

No one noticed their proximity to danger till the sound of a bowstring pulling taut made them all freeze.

“Unhand the Warden Commander, apostates,” a voice growled out of the dark.

Hawke didn’t hesitate, casting a wave of force in the direction of the voice, but there was no sound of impact against the wall of pure fade energy. An arrow was loosed, flying past Garrett’s ear into the dark—a warning.

“I won’t ask you again!”

Zukal squinted into the darkness. The Calling’s discordant song now played in her ears nearly constantly, but beneath its painful chords, there was a harmony of familiarity. It mixed with her Calling’s song much like Anders’ did, building a trio in her mind, more concordant than a darkspawn’s presence. Anders pulled her again, unaware of how the assailant’s song blended with their own.

“Get inside! It’s not safe for you here!” Anders shouted.

“No wait!” she protested. “I think that’s a warden out there.”

“And don’t most wardens want you dead?”

“Face me directly, you coward!” Garrett laughed into the storm, the thunder raging manically alongside him.

A bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, silhouetting a figure perched in the trees above them, bow aimed directly at Hawke.

“Hawke above you!” She gasped, pointing into the trees.

A plume of fire shot into the trees, sizzling amongst the wet leaves surrounding them in a haze of heavy smoke. Zukal coughed as the distinct sound of the interloper scurrying into the undergrowth echoed against the rocks.

“Both of you, get inside now,” Hawke muttered behind him. “You’re in no shape to fight, Zukal.”

“Release the Commander to me, and perhaps I’ll let you go unharmed,” he shouted. Zukal could barely make out the attacker’s voice through the remaining sizzle of the trees, but there was a familiarity that she could scarcely believe.

“Commander Tabris is under my protection,” Hawke shouted into the darkness as the smoke began to clear.

“Protection?!” An arrow flew between them, narrowly missing Anders’ shoulder, a near miss that was no accident.

Zukal pulled herself from Anders’ grasp and leapt in front of Garrett, her suspicion growing the more this assailant spoke. “Warden, stand down! Hawke speaks the truth!” she shouted, peering through the rain into the shadows that surrounded them. There was quiet, and all around them the persistent hush of the pouring rain. Her heart hammered in her chest as she was both terrified and hopeful to learn who their assailant truly was.

“Hawke, the champion of Kirkwall?” the voice called out incredulously, as a few cautious steps brought him closer. Around them, the storm was starting to lessen, harsh rain slowing to the persistent mist the storm coast was known for.

“Wait, I know that voice,” Garrett muttered, trying to grasp at Zukal’s good hand. All he received instead was a pair of skinned rabbits as she leapt into the darkness, running toward the sound of the attacker’s voice.

[spaceshipsoutthepool]

In Titan's Shadow illustration. Decided to go a bit more experimental with it. Inspired by the previous coulpe of chapters where Marina's battling with stars in her eyes 🙃

[random-prompts-and-musings]

You know what’s better than lovers separated by fate?

Siblings separated by fate. Seriously though, this is a person you’ve grown up with forever, but because of some darn creature known as fate, you are forced to be separated. Especially if they are on opposite sides. Oh, the angst potential.

[whattheheckiswhump]

They should let me keep men on leashes

[pixelz-ink]

(I guess this prompt can be considered both morally good and bad...?)

When the Whumpee is normally supposed to be the "comic relief villain" but the Caretaker doesn't care about that. The Caretaker doesn't care about who they are or whatever the hell they did. Or what extreme chaos the Whumpee caused for whatever reason.

The Caretaker only cares that the Whumpee is hurt, the Whumpee may need help, perhaps somebody or more.

And just the fact that Caretaker still CARES.