Hi Scott, How are you? Hope to see more of your amazing stories soon I've been searching for a Lux prompt that had a "house elf" I think called Alphonse but I can't find it anywhere :(
(ask cont.) As a continuation it was when the hunter brought Alphonse home for the first time and he met Lux
hi! sorry for taking a month to respond, i didn’t get the notif that i had stuff in my inbox. let’s see, a lu drabble with alphonse?
oh! i finally found it! it was an rp on my rp sideblog, not a full drabble or a prompt! an rp between me and @sweetwhumpandhellacomf, featuring lux, the hunter, and alphonse the domovoi.
here’s the link to the google doc of that rp compiled into one cohesive story. i hope you enjoy!
This is the mysterious major whumper, Rook by @sweetwhumpandhellacomf
I feel like this is probably the most self-explanatory of all the moodboards I’ve picked.
The nighttime, the color black, the knives are all nods to Rook’s assassins. The feathers and the top right picture represent the Blackbirds that Rook controls. The hand around the bird’s neck and the birdcage represent the control Rook has and their particular brand of torture that’s unique to them.
I think the two pictures that are potentially the most confusing are the tentacles and the cloak:
In the initial Willow and Grackle story there is a purple lump with tendrils coming out of it that’s a major part of the story and the whump. I 100% misread that as tentacles the first time I read it and now that’s stuck in my head 😅
The Blackbirds are mentioned as having short black capes, I don’t exactly remember the canonical say on whether or not Rook has a cape, and even if they did it wouldn’t likely be this long for practicality’s sake BUT this shot represents those capes and the length is for superiority.
Finally, the color purple is for the aforementioned purple lump and in a less artistic sense, I don’t want all of my moodboards for whumpers to be blacks, reds, and other colors traditionally assoicated with darkness and violence.
wait so like, is the Box Boy thing a shared AU that multiple writers use and Karen, Conner, Wright, etc are like... stock characters?
Wright Farling is NOT a free use character - he is @spiffythespook's OC and I will only ever reference/use him with express permission, often with her direct input or collaboration. He isn't part of the Box Boy universe, just crosses into it to have a love affair with one.
Or I mean.
Dex thinks it's love, right?
So, the Box Boy idea came from @sweetwhumpandhellacomf - and a few writers, including the excellent @shameless-whumper, picked up the concept.
Then a few more writers.
And more.
Now it's essentially a sprawling multiverse, a series of writers telling different stories, some of which crossover or connect to each other, some of which only reference each other, some of which are in an entirely separate universes that do not interact at all. it's been pretty amazing to watch the trend expand and grow, change and adapt to different writers' comfort levels, storytelling preferences, and favorite tropes.
It is, in effect, a shared alternate universe at this point. But what that looks like is different for almost every writer I've seen create pieces that involve it. And that's part of what makes it so goddamn amazing.
Back when I started kind of dipping my own toes into the multiverse with Kauri, I was asked a series of questions about how handlers and training might happen, and also had begun writing in a very corporate villain who would be distant, impersonal, and cold.
I decided to declare Karen, and eventually Connor, essentially free use characters (as long as I'm tagged!) for people who wanted to either reference my story or who just wanted someone they could pull in to fulfill the roles that Karen and Connor play in my works.
As far as I'm concerned, people can use Karen and Connor however they want in their own box boy or box babe stories. I just appreciate a tag so I know where my overly affectionate sadomasochist and ice queen psychopath are showing up these days.
It's been really fucking cool to see what people do with Karen and Connor. Karen is the most evil villain I have ever written in my life, and I adore her, and I adore her showing up in other people's works too. And obviously I love Connor, he's just weird as shit and living his best life.
valerie and eos are @sweetwhumpandhellacomf‘s ocs.
A box. He’s been pushed over to a box and been told to get in it. Marlow stares down at it, frowning slightly. He’s uncomfortable with the idea, but it doesn’t feel real. He can’t be made to go in there, he thinks to himself, frowning slightly. It’s too small, he’ll get stuck! He doesn’t want to be locked away, tucked out of sight and forgotten.
“I don’t want to, please-” Marlow gasps when his long hair is grabbed, and his arm too. The man behind him is strong and displeased.
“I said, get in the box, pretty boy.”
“Please, it’s too small - it’ll be dark - let me stay out here, I’ll behave, I won’t bother you!”
He’s pushed forward so that the only way to prevent himself falling is to step into the trunk. Marlow’s frown deepens as he’s pushed down so that his knees are forced to bend.
“I don’t want to,” Marlow tries again, voice faint with the foggy, timid filter that slips into place when he knows he’s going to be hurt or frightened. With every second that he’s being intimidated, his mind recedes farther to allow for obedience and prettiness to take its place.
“Shut up,” The man growls, and all resistance is stomped out of Marlow at the unwavering annoyance. He lets himself be shoved all the way down into the box, his thin body folding and curving how it must to squeeze in.
“Sorry, Sir,” He whispers, drawing shallow, forcibly calm breaths with his knees pressing into his ribs, and the man’s harsh shoving slows, gets a fraction more gentle. He likes being shown respect.
The lid of the trunk closes, and a lock clicks, and wide brown eyes blink in the sudden complete darkness. He hates it, but not enough to raise a fuss. He’ll be let out soon, surely. That man got less rough at that last second, he likes Marlow. He’ll let Marlow out of the box when he wants some pretty company.
~
By the time the box opens, Marlow is in a bit of a tizzy. He was starting to worry that he’d been forgotten - but it seems that the men who have him were just arranging their plan. The one who likes Marlow pulls him out, Marlow’s being let out! “Thank you!” he chirps, relieved, but his expression falls when he’s not unfolded and helped up to his feet. A cup of water is tipped to his lips, which he drinks a bit impatiently, and then a blindfold is pulled out, being brought up to his face. Marlow flinches back, panic truly seizing his heart now. “No, don’t - you don’t need to!”
“Quiet, or we’ll gag you, too,” The man says, frustrated but also kind enough to give the warning first. Marlow bites his lip and holds still as the cloth drapes over his closed eyes, then is pulled taut and tied behind his head.
“I want to go home,” Marlow admits, very quiet and as far from demanding as he can get.
Instead of answering, the man shoves him back down into the box and locks it again.
Now, Marlow doesn’t even have pinpricks of light to stare at like little stars on a pitch-dark night. Now, the bit of stuffy air that he has access to seems to cling to his lungs and make each breath difficult, worse than before. When the blindfold was tied, did it tangle up his hair? Curled up tight and panting as he is, how soon will he get sweaty? If he cries, won’t he look terribly messy? What kind of person puts someone in a box, knowing it’ll make them all sloppy and ugly?
Marlow can’t imagine.
~
Six glasses of water. Marlow isn’t sure how many days it’s been, how many nights, but he knows that he’s been pulled up out of the box just enough to drink, six times. The blindfold hasn’t been taken off, and the box hasn’t been opened except for when he was given water.
He makes sounds, now. He doesn’t know why. Maybe because it’s so lonely in here, so dark and hot and there’s only Marlow taking up the space he’s trapped in. Small sad hums and huffs of breath are his sounds, involuntary as the sweat that perpetually smothers his skin, dampens his hair. Like tears. But he hasn’t cried much, because each time he has, making whimpery miserable sounds, the box has been kicked, and he felt like he was choking as his heart leapt into his throat in panic at having displeased the man who maybe likes him a bit.
He hears footsteps outside the box. Water. It’s time for his water. Marlow pants against his knees and squeezes his eyes shut tighter, hoping that it’s time for water. Maybe the man will brush this damp hair away from where it sticks to Marlow’s cheek. Maybe he’ll be allowed to breathe the fresh air for an extra minute.
The lock clicks. Water! He draws a thin difficult breath, knowing that his air was soon to run out. They knew, they give him water regularly, they weren’t going to leave him in here to suffocate.
The lid of the box creaks open, and Marlow gasps at the chilly wave of air that crashes over him. His fingers curl tighter against his chest as he waits to be hoisted up.
“Oh, Marlow!” Someone cries, and Marlow frowns. He only wants two things - hands on his shoulders to pull him up, and a glass of water held to his lips. He’s good, he’s not greedy, that’s all he wants.
“Time for water?” He rasps, gently curious, sweet and unobtrusive.
His arm is taken and pulled on, his body sliding reluctantly upward; his shoulders are grabbed and he’s pulled up, and up, and up - too far, he’s getting heaved up out of the box. Marlow cries out in surprise and his weak, tingling-numb arms scrabble to find purchase against the one picking him up. What is happening? Where’s the water, where’s the man? His box - he should be in there, quiet and in there. His hair is frizzy and damp, his cheeks must be splotchy from the heat of the trunk. Marlow is a gasping, scratchy-voiced mess, why on earth is he out of the box?
“Put me back, please,” He begs hoarsely, legs wobbling as he’s gently set on his feet. He’s asking to be trapped again, but he’s clawing into the shirt of this person holding him like he’ll shatter if they do what he asks. “Please.”
“It’s me, it’s Valerie,” Says a familiar voice off to the side, and Marlow’s legs buckle. The big, strong man who lifted him out of the trunk catches him - that must be Eos. “Let me take this off for you,” The prince mutters, and Marlow can feel fingers working at the knot of the blindfold.
When the cloth slips away, Marlow squeezes his eyes shut tighter and hides his face against Eos’ chest.
“Better to do that someplace dark,” The Paladin informs gently.
“Oh! Yes, of course! I’m sorry Marlow.” A hand rests lightly on Marlow’s shoulder. “I’m so glad we found you. Let’s get you home, alright?”
Words failing him, Marlow nods. No more box, he’s going to be brought home.
By nightfall, Marlow is tucked into his bed. The windows are propped open to let in all the fresh air he could want; the blankets are laid lightly over him instead of tucked in securely around his sides. Marlow has had supper, and water, and he’s had his hand held constantly by his dearest friend.
“Are you sure you’re alright to sleep on your own tonight, Marlow? You could sleep with us, it would be no trouble. The cats would love to cuddle with you.”
Marlow nods. Thank goodness his hair has been washed and dried and brushed, he feels so much better not being an eyesore. “Thank you, Valerie. I think I’ll be okay. You’ll be close, right?” Though his words are brave and casual, Marlow’s voice cracks and goes breathy, worried.
“Just the next room over, very close. You’re completely safe here, I promise. It’s so good to have you home, Marlow, the manor’s just not the same without you.”
“I missed you,” Marlow answers sadly, his emotions restrained just a bit after worrying for days about how ugly he must look, and also that he might die. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yes, first thing. Goodnight, Marlow.” Valerie leans down from where he sits to press a kiss to his friend’s forehead. Marlow smiles and cuddles down into the blankets.
“Goodnight!” He calls back softly as Valerie leaves the room, closing the door. His room is big and open, and the door wasn’t locked. The covers and pillows are much softer than the inside of a trunk. There are faint beams of light from under the door, and he can see the stars through his window. Marlow sighs, relaxing into his quiet assessment that he’s really, truly home.
hi i just started my blog to at least try and post writing and i'm having trouble finding other blogs to follow, any suggestions please? sort of prompts (whump or not) and other good writers?
Welcome aboard! It’s always nice to meet new people in the whump community!!
There are so many amazing creators out here but for your specific request, I’m narrowing it down to those who mainly write OC works and do prompts.
If anyone else has people to add on, please do! I’m always on the lookout for new creators 👀
Prompt Creators:
@galaxy-whump does some amazing prompts! Quinn is an incredibly talented person who prompts in every genre but does a ton of monster specific prompts, which can be kind of rare in the prompt world.
@thependragonwritersguild is just? So?? Good??? They put out so many amazing prompts overall! To my knowledge, they are not a whump specific blog but you can interpret any prompt in any way!
@aliceinwhumperland mentions that they write fanfic mostly right up in their bio but this writer gets an exception to my “OC works mainly” specification because they put out “Whump word(s) of the day” which are always incredible. Plus, they share a lot of whump prompts that they’ve come across and generally add to the whump community.
@whumpsterdumpster is another person filled with amazing prompts! Their prompts are generally formatted similar to mine if you like the way I format things. (That’s not to say that they copy me or I copy them or anything like that. We have similar writing styles and ways of setting up our prompts). They’re great! Go check them out!
Writers:
@whump-sprite is fan-freaking-tastic! The most amazing Sproo always put so much love and attention into their writing that it leaves me stunned! Every single time. The universe they have created leaves pretty much everyone in awe. Her OC Anders is the first OC I fell in love with in the whump community
One can’t mention the brilliant Sproo without thinking of @friendlylocalwhumper! These two writers somewhat share a brilliant world for whump with many of their characters knowing each other and ended up hurting together. Scott always writes the most amazing drabbles for his cast of characters and is super kind and interactive with his audience!
@clockworknightmares is an amazing artist/writer in the whump community! Wyatt’s plotlines and character arcs are mind blowing. He puts so much time and effort into everything that he produces and it shows so incredibly well through every aspect in his work. (He passes the “mainly writers” specification for the post because he writes a ton! I did remember the rules I set, I’m not just going free for all 😅)
@wildfaewhump is one of the top (if not the top) providers of fantastical creature whump! Vic has so much content it can be kind of daunting but I promise you that you can just jump right in and start reading without being too lost. I would recommend reading everything they have ever put out if you have the time. Trust me, reading everything is worth it.
@sweetwhumpandhellacomf is another connoisseur of whump. Dex understands the words so well! She has a couple of main universes and a few minor universes that are all top notch. She won me over with her Willow and Grackle series but maaaaan, I adore every universe she’s ever made ever.
If you're ever in the mood to write angst would you be open to writing Marlow loosing Sunny? :)
no! but i’ve already written sunny getting taken away from marlow, and it was pretty good and angsty! here’s the link to the rp with @sweetwhumpandhellacomf in which that is referenced, and here’s an excerpt of it!
“You don’t need this blanket anymore, do you, dear? You feel safe now, right?”
Marlow nods with a proud little smile. Nervous, but proud.
“That’s good, Marlow, very good. So then, you don’t need Sunny, either, do you?”
His smile disappears in an instant. Sunny’s sleeping in the corner, dozing gently, his little breaths huffing against the floor. Their owner goes to him, picking him up and chuckling when the dog licks him happily. Marlow wants to beg his owner to let Sunny stay, to please, please let him stay.
All he can muster is a faint, “Can I… hold him? One more time, please?”
“You don’t need to do that! You’re perfectly at home here, you don’t need a blanket to feel safe, and you most certainly don’t need a puppy.”
Marlow watches his owner leave, carrying the bundle of fluff out of sight.
Valerie makes a sound of concern, and with a little choked gasp, Marlow opens his eyes. He’s crying, his hand shaking, no longer petting Snowflake.
~
Valerie’s cat-related happiness slowly fades, watching Marlow’s face grow distant, then upset. When he sees tears he makes an alarmed little “oh.” “Marlow, what’s wrong?” he asks, reaching out to take his hand in both of his, trying to comfort him. “You, um, what’s…” He’s at a loss for what could have caused the shift in his mood. “What can I do?” he finally settles on. He needs to help.
~
Marlow pouts, frowning down at the cat in his lap, and lets out a shaky sigh. He tries to calm down, and not think about Sunny, and… now he’s sobbing.
“I-I-I, I’m sorry,” He splutters sadly, and his tumultuous jerks make Snowflake leave, which only makes him cry harder. “I just, I re-remembered, when, w-when,” He’s trying to catch his breath, but it only eludes him further. Tears spill from his eyes and he doesn’t care enough to swipe them away. “I ha-ad, had a puppy, he wa-as so, so little,” Marlow hiccups with a little squeak, “Sunny, Sunny, I had him, but, but, but, my, my owner took him away.” With a heaving gasp, he covers his face with his hands and leans forward, head tipped down. “I had him, he was… a-and I couldn’t see him ‘cause, ‘cause'a the b-blindfold, and, and I saw him for, for a day befo-o-re…” His body is wracked with shuddering breaths. “I-I miss, miss him, I miss my puppy.” Marlow can’t stop sobbing for the life of him. Valerie’s still holding his hand and he lets him, feeling so, so alone.
~
“Oh, Marlow, Marlow…” Valerie pulls him into his arms, heart aching, sympathetic tears in the corners of his own eyes. He can’t imagine that kind of heartbreak, having one of his cats taken away like that… “Marlow, I’m so sorry.”
He holds him close, stroking his hair and trying to help calm him. He doesn’t even mind if he gets tears on his shirt. He’s going to find this puppy, whatever it takes.
