I post poetry, short stories, and some NSFW so please keep this in mind as you read. I will list content warnings at the beginning of each post so please read at your own discretion.
I am always taking prompts! I am not fast at writing, but will always see and respond to them when I have the time. Thank you!
Ao3 (nsfw!! read the tags on each work and please be of age!!)
Toyhou.se (read the content warnings! under construction!)
NaNoWriMo (please message me before sending me a buddy request so I know who you are!) So yikes. im still doing wordcounts there. but yikes
Welcome to Whumptober 2021! May the Whump be with you :)
To all of you who participated last year - we have changed a few of the rules, but overall things have stayed the same. To everyone new: WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
ayy bingo, howabout struggling against their caretaker? 👀
WHOOPS I JUST REALIZED THIS SAID CARETAKER AND NOT WHUMPER well take this anyway im counting it
Struggling against their Caretaker Whumper
TW: torture, drowning, manipulation
He doesn’t even remember what he did to deserve the punishment. (That was a lie, he remembers innately how he forgot to lock his bedroom door that morning, and someone wandered into his bedroom looking for the bathroom.) But it didn’t matter; the Father was letting him repent in the same way he always did: by beating him half senseless until he had decided that Nathan had endured enough, and then made him apologize so that he could be granted forgiveness.
And he didn't know why, (and this time he really didn't know why) but he just wasn't having it today. It could have been for any number of reasons, but he thought the truth of it was that he just didn't deserve it. He was feeling more than a little out of it today and was thinking about only one thing throughout the punishment: having it be over so he could go lay down and start nursing his headache.
"Stop struggling," Father said, pushing Nathan's head underwater again, and Nathan coughed immediately, spluttering, pushing his head back so he could get a breath of air. Anything would do: he just didn't grab one in time, and he didn't plan on drowning at Father's hand today.
"I--" Nathan started, but he was pushed underwater yet again. This time he really did snap, pushing his head back up with strength that he didn't know he had, forcing himself out of the tub of cold water, glaring at him through the water dripping in his eyes.
"Don't." Nathan said, with enough ice in his voice to freeze the water running down his face. "Don't touch me."
"What did you say to me?" Father said.
"Don't touch me," Nathan asserted again, but this time much less confident. His hand touched where Father still had a hold of his neck, but he lacked the strength anymore to pull it away.
"Well all right," Father said, in a calm, level way that chilled Nathan to his core. "You've decided you're too good for my teachings, I understand. But until you've realized that you deserve your punishment, I won't touch you. In fact, I don't even want to see you. Go to your room and stay there. If I see your face and you are not begging for forgiveness from me..." Father left the threat open-ended. Nathan would fill in the threat using his imagination better than anything the Father could come up with.
Nathan seethed, glaring at Father, who was making good on his promise not to look back at Nathan. Still dripping wet, Nathan got to his feet quickly, choosing not to stalk out of the room, but instead walking quickly, in a bold way the Father hadn't seen him carry himself in a while, slamming the door behind him.
To anyone else, maybe, this would be a defeat. Nathan was fighting the Father, after all. He was being more of the defiant boy that he had come to the island as. But Father saw this as nothing but progress. Once he'd broken this little rebellious streak, well... Nathan would be one step closer to being his perfect devout follower.
Ice and cold water -- Falling through ice -- Ice skating
(remember these???? i didn’t!! well its snowing and cold for me again so TIME TO FINISH AND POST THEM)
TW: bullying, near drowning, implied daddy kink
“It’s snowing.” The call seemed to send a shockwave through the room. The boys that Father kept leapt up from where they sat to rush to the windows. It looked like it had been snowing for a while without them realizing, the powder already piling up on the ground and starting to freeze. Rami turned to look too late, not having jumped up with the other boys, who were now running off to beg Father to go outside and play. Father apparently let them go, because they ran back out into the main room with their coats and shoes, throwing them on as fast as possible and racing out the door. Rami climbed to his feet, going to grab his own coat.
It took him a minute to gather his things and tell Father that he was going to join the other boys outside, and in that short amount of time, the boys outside were already running around, making snow angels, and pelting each other with snowballs. Rami zipped up his coat after stepping outside, and was immediately accosted with a snowball in the face.
“Look,” the boys were sneering. “He thinks he’s so much better than us. He can’t come outside with us cause he wants extra facetime with Daddy.”
“Just because you’re Daddy’s new favorite doesn’t mean that you’re better than us, you know,” one of the boys, Alec, the Father’s most recent acquisition before Rami, sneered. “Maybe you need to be taken down a peg.”
It was like all the other boys moved in unison, all on the same page somehow, leaving Rami to scramble to realize what was going on as one of the boys grabbed the hood of his coat and started dragging him backwards, pulling him away from the house.
“Don’t you dare fucking scream,” someone hissed in his ear, and Rami stifled the shriek that was coming out of his mouth. He knew that no matter what these boys had planned for him, he would not come out the victor if Father came to rescue him. And whatever Father would do to him would hurt way more than anything that Alec and his posse had planned. So he covered his mouth with his bare hand and tried his best to dig his heels into the soft snow underneath him, as the oldest of the boys dragged him down the field.
Down to the riverbank.
“Oh shit,” Rami breathed, realizing all at once what they had planned.
The big one, John, who was dragging him, stepped confidently out onto the frozen river, despite the way the ice cracked ominously under his feet. Rami found himself praying, knowing that there was only one way this would end, and just hoping that he wouldn’t permanently drown in the river.
They got out just a couple of steps, and the ice splintered beneath his feet. John did something and yanked Rami up and seemed to throw him through the air, launching him right in the middle of the frozen river, and Rami did scream then, being hurtled through the air, and then his face hit the ice with a crack and he was suddenly underwater.
The first thing you realize, when you’re thrown into a frozen river, is how cold the water is. This seems fairly obvious. Rami started shivering immediately, his arms instinctively pulling in toward his body, only to have his torso sink even faster underneath the water. He kicked his legs and splashed and quickly realized the second fact: the river, while mostly frozen on top, was still very much moving in a lazy wave downstream. He had no idea where he had fallen through, and couldn’t find a way out, his face once again hitting against the ice, but from the other side. He almost gasped at the realization, when he realized his third problem: he had almost no air in his lungs left to speak of.
He panicked, flailing under the water, trying to do his best to swim against the current. His coat was already soaked through, and dragging him down, the down inside of it heavy and doing nothing, anymore, to keep him warm. He reached out desperately with his hand, and, oh glory be, found the hole he’d made when he was thrown through the ice. He gripped it with all his might and pulled his body up, just high enough to grab a blessed breath of air--
And then the boys were back, one he didn’t even get a good look at, using their little hands to push his head back underwater. He barely held on to the edge of the ice with his hand, and then someone’s boot came down hard on his fingers, and he choked on water, and released his grip, and he was spiraling downstream again.
This time, he had a bit more air, so he let himself be pulled downstream, holding his breath for all his might. The river was deep here, but he knew it got a bit more shallow and rocky the further down it went, so he just curled his arms and legs close to his chest and closed his eyes, just for a minute.
He hit a rock.
Here, where the water was more choppy, it had yet to freeze over, and so hitting a rock was a blessing, it meant his head was above water, and his butt was solidly on the bed of the river. His back was pressed up against the rock, anchoring him in place. He was freezing to death.
Rami was alive, though.
He tried to get to his feet, shivering, and stumbled so badly that he fell face first back into the river. He clambered to his feet once more and this time it stuck: his legs were wobbling and he could barely support himself with the weight of the wet down coat, but he saw the farmhouse in the distance and began walking back toward it.
It took him way too long to get there, his lips and fingertips were almost blue by the time he reached the front door. He hesitated and then removed his coat, still dripping wet, and his shoes, squishy and half frozen, and left them inside the enclosed porch where hopefully they would dry without freezing. He let himself in the doorway, and was immediately accosted by Father.
“Where have you been? The other boys came in ten minutes ago, why didn’t you? And why are you soaking wet?”
Rami looked over Father’s shoulder, just for a moment, and made eye contact with Alec, who stared him down.
“I fell in the river,” Rami lied, the words bitter on his tongue.
“Go get changed,” Father spat. “You’re going to be punished later for ruining your clothing. And you won’t get any dinner tonight for lying.”
Rami sighed and trekked upstairs, skirting around the other boys, going to go take a nice, hot shower.
thanks for the tag @starfast! i’m finding all of these from Upon the Heads of Sunflowers
Silent: Stay, she silently pleads with Eva, stay, don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone, don’t leave me alone.
Idea: Other stories begin to rustle somewhere deep in the back of her mind, faint inklings of ideas written down on paper months and years ago.
Night: “Still looking?” Thomas appears in the doorway with his nightly tea, and only then does Cassandra realize she’s been at this far longer than she thought.
Edge: She closes her eyes, letting Verna’s heartbeat and voice carry her away to the comfortable edge of real sleep.
thank you so much for the tag!! your snippets are so interesting, honestly!!! im going to reblog here instead of @salamancialilypad tho! im digging through last years nano: A Place Where God Can't Follow.
silver: He served them the food in clearly never-been-used white bowls with plastic silverware. It wasn't quite the romantic meal he'd envisioned, but it was sustenance, and for the both of them that was enough.
torn: He looked down at his feet and winced. They were torn to shreds. The biggest pieces of glass had embedded themselves in his soles and he was bleeding profusely around them.
always: It was a tone that Nathan had never heard from him before. The Father always seemed to know what was going on around him.
mask: i actually dont have the word mask in my draft!! weird!!
tagging (if yall havent done it already! and only if you want to!!!!): @ihaventwritteninsolong @crowned-avery @jo-castle ! your words are love, hate, smile, and anger!
1. stay at home. it is hard. you want to see your friends. you want to go outside. you must resist this urge. there is sickness outside. there is death outside. you must stay at home.
2. if you must leave, wear layers. exposed skin is skin that must be washed later. people have touched their hair and touched their eye and gotten sick. people have touched their arm to their nose and gotten sick. cover it up. cover up your face. other people will not cover their nose. you must cover as much as you can to account for this.
3. go to work. yes you are not allowed to leave your house. yes you must go to work. if people stop working, what will happen? to the economy, not to the people. the people must keep working. you must keep working.
4. save your money. we will not make this easy. we will not give you money. you are supposed to be working, remember? save as much as you can. the amount that you are not spending on food you need to live, or medicine you need to live, or shelter you need to live. everyone has at least ten thousand dollars in savings in case of an emergency, right?
5. cut out all extraneous spending. this is like save your money, only more actionable. you do not need anything that will make you happy. you are only supposed to stay at home and then go to work. people are mocking you right now for buying game systems to make being at home more tolerable.
6. spend as much as you can at small, local businesses. what do you mean, "this goes against both save your money and do not extraneously spend." you have been doing nothing but work and stay at home. you have plenty of money to spend to keep your favorite local places open. spend all your money there. they need you. they certainly will not get any money from us. and do not forget: it is your fault when they shut down.
7. listen to the cdc. the cdc has lots of helpful advice for how to stay safe and healthy, for things other than surviving a pandemic, as well. other people will not read these guidelines, and will actively mock you for following them.
8. you must also do your own research. you hear lots of different opinions. where did this virus really come from? what are really the best steps to prevent getting it? is it really so bad? i know people that have gotten it and they were just fine, after all. perhaps people are just overreacting. perhaps it is not that bad.
9. you must not get the vaccine. there is lots of controversy surrounding it, after all. is it not suspicious that it only came out after a few months of clinical trials? is it not suspicious that we do not even know what is in the vaccine? you know, i hear tell of it making people sick. of people dying after getting it.
10. if you have followed all of these rules, then you will be just fine. after all. it is not really that bad. the people who are dying are just expendable, in the grand scheme of things. you will be just fine.
First of all @writingamongther0ses I NEED THIS! And I’ve been quietly writing a story of Medusa!
But for the WIP
I’ve been quietly working on my fanfic for @jo-castle (which is fun Bc there’s so much room for interpretation of characterizations with how she writes in short form!)…
But it was like fire unleashed within her, and it continued to burn no matter what she thought to herself. It ravaged her thoughts like wildfires ripping through the dry summer fields, scorching her instinct for self preservation and leaving her with little more than the lingering heat of rage and humiliation.
No pressure but I’m tagging @jo-castle @shapeshiftersandfire @lonesome–hunter @redstainedsocks @redwingedwhump @spookyboywhump @knivestothroats @whumpqin @boxboysandotherwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @salwriting @whumpfigure
i’m GONNA post a bit of the ones that im still chipping away at for the christmas whump event (whoops) tho!! also thanks for the tag grim!!!! what you’re writing sounds amazing so far!! ❤❤
> It took two hours to feel the first symptom. The boys were playing Mario Kart on the ancient looking system that Father had provided for them, and Rami, somehow, had acquired the fourth player controller before anyone else could claim it. He was sitting on the floor, back up against the couch, frowning at the game: somehow he wasn’t doing as well as he usually was. He kept crashing into the walls. And then he had rather dramatically pitched forward: his head was between his knees before he realized what was happening.
ill tag @raigash and whomever else wants to, but no pressure if you dont wanna!!
All the lights and decorations put up in anticipation
Christmas decorations -- Using them to tie someone up / for torture -- Putting them up together
TW: bondage ties, display whump
“Hold still,” Father chided, even though Rami was being perfectly still, holding his arms out parallel to the ground, just as Father asked. He was stark naked, just lucky that the heat was working today, and Father was working around him, holding a string of Christmas lights. Rami straightened even further, holding his arms out even more level, as Father worked. Father wound the string slowly, deliberately, tying intricate knots on his chest, around his hips, down his legs. It took several strings of lights, but Rami remained stock still each time Father left to collect a new one. Finally, he was allowed to put his arms down, and Father tied them in place at his sides.
“I still don’t get what we’re doing,” Rami said, when it was all finished. There was a thick cord in the middle of his chest that Father grabbed, using it to lead him out of the bedroom and into the main living space, where he and Father’s other boys stayed. Father led him over to the corner of the room and positioned him, taking him through a few limited poses with Rami’s arms tied down to his side, and finally settled on having him stand, his chin angled up, looking as though he was proud of the lights snared around his body. And then Father plugged in the cord, and the lights strung around Rami’s body snapped on, bathing him in brightness.
“Stay still,” Father said again, “You’re going to be the Christmas tree this year.” And then he left Rami alone, Rami immediately trying to stay stock still in the position Father had picked for him.
TW: nudity, wax play, implied daddy kink (it's one line but better safe than sorry), mentions of drug use
Rami stretched out in the bed, candlelight illuminating the room. He was wearing a rather lightweight sweater, and the building’s heat was old and tended to be unreliable. He was no stranger to the cold, but he was slowly learning that he didn’t have to be friends with it anymore.
“I’m cold,” Rami said offhandedly. Father moved around him for just a moment before finding the right remote and clicking on the fireplace. It never failed to amaze Rami, who sat up to watch the electric flames, putting his hands out in front of him to warm them like people did in the old movies he watched. Father smiled down at him, putting his hand on Ramiel’s chin and angling it upward, kissing him roughly, lingering an inch away from his face for just a moment.
“Only the best for my favorite child,” he said, and Rami warmed even more under the praise. He laid back on the bed, stretched his arms up over his head.
“You know the rules,” Father said, “If you want to lay in bed you have to…?” He trailed off, giving Rami time to correct his mistake. Rami scrambled off of the bed and immediately started stripping, his sweater and slacks falling to the floor until he was dressed in nothing but his socks. He piled back into the bed now sans-clothing.
“Let’s get you dressed in something else,” Father said, like the idea was just occurring to him, and Ramiel looked up at him, his eyebrows knit together. Father grabbed one of the tall, thin candles from off of the nightstand. “Turn over.”
Rami obeyed instantly: he knew from experience that things would be worse if he didn’t. But he couldn’t stop the stone cold fear from seeing Father holding the candle. What did he mean? Father knew he had a crippling fear of real fire, something that stemmed from years of parents using. It was an all too common occurrence to wake up with smoke filling the room, unsure if the smoke was from the drugs or from a fire caused by the drugs. It was usually about 50/50. He couldn’t possibly imagine what else Father was going to do with the candle, other than burn him in some way with the dreaded fire.
When the first drop of wax hit his back, he flinched. He couldn’t tell if the sensation was better or worse than whatever he was expecting. It felt like nothing at first, then the heat set in, sinking down to his bones, searing him. And then it cooled, and hardened and just felt like a shell, drying to his back, his skin firm and unwilling to move at that spot. It made him shiver as the heat left his body.
Father dripped the wax again, letting a small river of it pour out of the top of the candle, and Rami cried out, shifting to put his face in his hands. A little bit of it at a time burned, but a lot of it felt like lava, like liquid fire searing his back. His thoughts ceased abruptly and he shook with the pain of it.
“Does it hurt?” Father asked. Rami nodded, still facedown, still with his head in his hands. Father did it again, a fountain of hot wax landing on his lower back, drips splashing away from where the majority of the wax landed to land on their own. Rami arched his back, trying to squirm away from it. This was so much worse than he was expecting. It was terrible; a bright heat that made him feel like he was going to be sick. Everything hurt. He started to wheeze, to hyperventilate, anticipating each drop of wax before it came, flinching every time he was so much as breathed on too heavily. He tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway, equally as hot and stinging as the wax being poured.
“Just a bit more,” Father said, breathy and low. “You’re doing so well.”
A sob squeezed Rami’s lungs and he cried openly into his hands. Father seemed to have two lines of wax left to drip painstakingly onto Ramiel’s back, and Rami tried not to shake too much so as to disrupt his work. He breathed in and out in between sobs, and when Father finally put the candle down, now significantly smaller than when he’d picked it up, Rami all but sobbed with relief.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Father chided, “You don’t need to cry.”
Rami sniffled, lifting his head up, wiping his wet palms on the bedspread despite Father’s world weary sigh when he did so.
“Just wait until we take the wax off, boy,” Father said, patting Rami’s curls, and fear gripped Ramiel’s heart all over again.
