Tumblr Deleted My Work For @augusnippets Day 13 :( Will Have To Rewrite It Soon

tumblr deleted my work for @augusnippets day 13 :( will have to rewrite it soon

Augusnippets Day 10 - Execution

Content warnings: death, guns, military whump

~~~~~~~

The Soldier had never wanted to kill anyone. He should never have been here at all. The king was the one who wanted the land that they were invading; the Soldier didn’t even know why. It wasn’t right that he and so many others were forced into this fight in which they had no stake, or that the consequences were so dire if they refused.

So far, he at least had managed to stay out of the thick of combat. He didn’t cut the imposing figure expected of frontline soldiers, and was too nervy to be trusted with the more severe weaponry. The few times he had been armed outside of training, it had been for infiltration missions that ended up not requiring bloodshed, and otherwise he had been relegated to courier and recon tasks. All in all, he had been lucky.

This time, though, there was no getting out of it. Each of the conscripts in his unit had been brought out, lined up, and handed a rifle. All but one of them. The other stood across from them, blindfolded, hands bound behind his back. Even from a distance the Soldier could see the man trembling.

They weren’t even told what the other man had done - their commander simply announced that this other soldier had committed treason, and was to be punished accordingly. He barely gave the unit time to process it before giving the order for everyone to ready their rifles.

His body complied with the order even as his mind was numb with dread. He probably wasn’t the only one here who couldn’t quite hold his rifle steady as they aimed; it was doubtful that anyone else here was mentally prepared to be part of a firing squad. Breaths around him were heavy, faces gray and clammy.

The Soldier had been told before, in more casual circumstances within the army camp, that not everyone on a firing squad would actually do the killing. A couple of the rifles would be loaded with a wax bullet rather than a real one. Everyone would shoot, everyone would hear their own gun go off and feel the recoil, but a couple of those shots would be harmless. And everybody got to walk away knowing that there was a chance their own shot had been one of the fakes, a chance that there was no blood on their own hands.

But when the commander shouted for them to fire, the Soldier knew. He watched the bullets slicing into the blindfolded soldier, and the way his body crumpled amid a spray of blood that left a red mist floating to the floor and a ferrous smell in the air, and somehow he knew for sure that this was his first kill.

He wondered idly, as the soldiers were dismissed and the corpse was carted away, which one of those holes was his.

@augusnippets

@augusnippets day 10

execution/ fake execution/ begging for mercy

Captivity, pet whump, threat of murder, begging, guilt.

°

Whumpee screamed through a cloth gag, pulling at their bonds desperately. Strapped to a table, they were helpless to their own fate. Whumper stood above them, a knife gripped in his hands. Caretaker was chained to the wall in front of the two, forced to watch what was happening.

"Caretaker," Whumper said calmly. "I told you enough times that your disobedience will have consequences. It's time I showed you I'm not playing around anymore.

Caretaker yanked at their chains, eyes brimming with tears. "Fuck you! Let them go," they cried, kicking and trying to free themself.

Whumper cut Whumpee's shirt off slowly, exposing their chest. He tapped the tip against Whumpee's skin. "I'll try and make it fast, beautiful. It's a shame you have to die... you were always my favorite."

Caretaker was in a panic, tears spilling past their cheeks. "No, no! Let them go, p- please, they did nothing wrong!"

Whumper paused, smirking. "Then who did?"

"I did!" Caretaker cried, gripping their own hair. "It's my fault I was bad, I'm sorry! I won't misbehave anymore, just please don't hurt them!"

Whumpee looked pleadingly up at Whumper, whining through the gag. Fear coursed through every inch of their body, causing them to shake and tremble. "Mmph, mnph!"

The knife raised into the air dreadfully slow, aimed at Whumpee's heart.

Caretaker was practically in hysterics, shaking their head. "No, sir, please! Master! I'll be so good, I'll be the perfect pet for you—!"

Whumper grinned down at Caretaker, slamming the knife down.

Whumpee flinched, expecting the sharp, intense pain of the knife. Instead, they were met with a loud thunk beside their ear as the knife plunged into the wooden table beside them.

Whumper glared at Caretaker. "That's more like it. Keep it up, and I won't have to take it any further. Whumpee lives for today."

starting augusnippets day 11 right now, i was really drunk last night and didn't have time to start it

@augusnippets day 9

Overheating/ Hypothermia/ Dehydration

Captivity, escape attempt, cold whump, recapture

°

Whumper glared around the snowy landscape, pulling his jacket tighter to his skin. It was absolutely freezing out here. Why had Whumpee decided to run off now? The stupid thing was going to freeze to death, for God's sake!

"Whumpee," he shouted irritably, keeping an eye out for his captive. "Where the hell did they run off to?

Then he saw it— a set of footprints in the snow. It seemed that Whumpee had taken a pair of shoes, at least.

Whumper trekked through the snow, frustration pushing him forward. Eventually, he spotted a small shape huddled against a large rock. Whumpee.

"You! What do you think you're doing, Whumpee?" Whumper snapped, storming over.

Immediately upon spotting him, Whumpee jumped up and sprinted away, their movements slower and clumsier than usual. Whumper had no idea how long they had been out here.

"Whumpee, come on. You don't want to die out here, do you?"

Whumpee backed into a flat area of snow with no trees or other features. "I'd rather try to survive out here than live with you!" Whumpee said fiercely, eyes full of rage.

"Whumpee, you're standing on a—"

A large groan sounded in the air, followed by several cracks.

"—lake."

The ice caved under the weight, and Whumpee plummeted into the cold water.

Whumper came to the frozen lake's edge, looking down at the hole Whumpee had fallen through. They were thrashing, slowly sinking and losing their fight against the water's pull.

Whumper reached in, pulling them out and onto the snowy bank. "Are you about done?"

Whumpee was still coughing, spitting the water out onto the ground. Whumper chuckled at the pathetic display.

"Well, I suppose I'll leave it up to you whether you want to come back..." Whumper shrugged, smirking at the captive.

"Please! Take me b- back, I'm so cold—" Whumpee pleaded, shivering. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, take me back..."

Whumper chuckled, scooping Whumpee up in his arms. Whumpee was freezing cold, his eyes hazy and tired.

"Now you know better, don't you? No more running off, dear." Whumper began carrying Whumpee back, feeling the smaller human clinging to his body.

"Y- yes sir, I know n-now..."

"Good."

@augusnippets day 8

Bonus prompt- Whumpee wearing Caretaker's clothes

Demihuman Whumpee (canine), past capture, institutionalized/legal slavery of demihumans, lady whump mentioned, physical abuse mentioned, mostly just fluff though :D

°

Caretaker sat alone in their living room, sipping on some stew they had made earlier. They heard Whumpee's scufflings in the next room, but left them to their own devices.

Whumpee was... odd, to say the least. They were just beginning to learn which of their old owner's "rules" that they were allowed to break. The demihuman tested boundaries carefully, like they were nervous for a punishment if they sat on any furniture.

Once they learned they were allowed to sit where they liked, however, they took up a habit of napping on the coffee table. Caretaker would never reprimand them for this, though. The more freedom Whumpee felt, the happier they seemed.

The poor thing's old owner was a cruel excuse for a woman. She never let Whumpee wear clothes past a pair of boxers, she made them act like an animal for her, and even went as far as to whip them if they weren't to her precise standard. Whumpee was a kind of dog-human hybrid, yes, but nobody deserved to be treated that way. Caretaker wouldn't even treat a dog like that!

Caretaker stamped out any thoughts of her— they hated to dwell on things, especially Whumper.

Caretaker noticed that Whumpee had gone silent. They quickly got to their feet and started towards the bedroom. "Whumpee?" they called.

When Caretaker opened the door, Whumpee was scrambling to hide, choosing to duck behind the bed.

"Whumpee? Love, you can come out. It's okay," Caretaker said calmly, stepping into the room. "Can you tell me why you're hiding? Are you doing something you think you aren't supposed to?"

Whumpee let out an ashamed whine and was still for a moment. Suddenly, they leaped up onto the bed where Caretaker could see them.

The demihuman was looking away in shame, and their ears drooped pathetically. They were dressed in a big white sweater that was entirely too big and a pair of shorts that they were struggling to hold up. Whumpee ducked their head. "I– I didn't know you were coming in... I'm sorry, I'll take them off–"

They were cut off as Caretaker tackled them in a hug, squeezing them closer. "Whumpee," they exclaimed, "you're wearing clothes! I'm so proud of you, love!" Caretaker ruffled Whumpee's hair encouragingly.

Whumpee, taken aback, hugged Caretaker. "I'm... allowed to?"

"Yes, yes! Of course, love. Though... we should probably get you some clothes that fit you a little better."

Whumpee nodded, sinking their head into Caretaker's chest. "Thank you... these are so comfy..."