suffering soiree

he/him | mid-20s | art, writing, & reblogs | certified whump demon, full time silly goose | please no minors.

[whump-queen]

Mi Toxiquería 💖

✧.* Putting hurt on your dash since 2022 ✧.*

i’m Akia, he/him ✦ I post whump writing & art ✦ I try to tag everything!

Writing Tag: #akia.txt Art Tag: #akias art

✧ Drabbles & Oneshots ✧ Prompts ✧ Art & Media

Stories

✧ Seven Series (servant/pet whump)

✧ Asa & Silas (captivity, defiance)

✧ Rainwater and Gasoline (kidnapping, whumper-turned-whumpee)

✧ Dark Circuit (mafia setting, wip, just barely started this)

✧ The Boy in the Alleyway (wip)

Collabs/Crossovers

✧ Rowe & Aris (vampire whump, royal whump, collab w @/unorganisedalienrubbish)

✧ Sapphire (living weapon sci-fi, collab with @/paingoes)

✧ Kane & Raiza (vampire whump, collab with @/whumpsday)

✧ The Castle (vampire whumper, vampire hunter whumpee, collab with @/not-a-space-alien)

Rules for asks: I do take requests, asks are open,. if you have a thought about one of my characters I wanna know about it! but if I don’t get to it right away i am hoarding it like a dragon until inspiration strikes :>

Please, no spam or block evasions, and no minors pls!!

[amphibianshaped]

[whump-queen]

okok I want to expand on this poll because the answers are more split than I expected. so I am providing more options.

if you discovered a clone of yourself, what would you do?

fight the clone

fuck the clone

befriend the clone

try to kill the clone

team up with the clone to commit schemes

parent trap. switch places

make them go to work for you so you don’t have to go to work

track down whoever made the clone and destroy them

try to figure out how to make a bunch of clones

kidnap the clone (torture basement)

something else (tag it!)

Voting ended on1h

[whatiswhump]

Waking up in different clothes each time they knock him out. Different places. Different people looking down at him.

[thecryptkeeper]

[whump-queen]

Espresso

@victimeyez once asked me if Wes ever takes care of Seven when he needs it...

Continued from this Seven Masterlist

Tags: servant/slave whump, fainting, collapse, delerious whumpee, manhandling, physical abuse, fever, sickfic??? on my blog???, reluctant/gruff caretaker, whumper turned caretaker, guilt. // Words: 1.4k

༻✦༺

Wes had left Seven alone in the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast for what must’ve been under five minutes, when he heard a loud shattering crash followed by a softer thud. He started, jerking his gaze up from his phone and rising from his spot on the couch. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Wes’ voice boomed across the marble as he rounded the kitchen island, only to see a quickly growing brown spill sliding along the white floor. Large shards of broken ceramic scattered in the puddled coffee, and Wes’ eyes went wide when he made it fully around the corner and saw Seven collapsed on his side, in a heap on the floor, just beyond the scene of the impact.

“Seven!” Wes called again, stepping over the spill towards the collapsed boy, but Seven ignored him. Wes kicked him harshly in the stomach. “Hey! Answer me,” he barked, but the strike only forced a low, pained groan from the servant, who had seemed to either not hear him or deliberately be ignoring him. Wes pressed a socked foot against Seven’s hip bone and gave him a firm shove, knocking his limp body onto his back. 

“What the fuck!” Wes yelled, demanding some fucking answers—an apology, an explanation—something. When he got nothing but another pained sound, he leaned down, gripping Seven’s blonde hair in one hand and slapping his face with the other—once, twice—in an attempt to revive his attention. At last, Seven’s eyes blinked back open. His gaze seemed hazy and unfocused. His face was flushed red with heat. 

Shit.

Wes wiped the sweat-slicked bangs off of Seven’s forehead and felt the skin beneath it with the back of his hand. The boy was absolutely burning up.

“Fuck me,” Wes mumbled to himself, heaving a deep resigned sigh as he realized the situation he’d created for himself.

Leaving the spilled espresso and the shattered cup on the kitchen floor for now, Wes hauled Seven’s lithe form up into a bridal style carry. The servant’s head lolled limply to the side to expose his neck and he groaned in that far-away sort of fashion you’d get from someone who doesn’t entirely know what's happening or where they are. That can’t be comfortable, Wes thought, upon seeing the awkward way Seven’s head dangled off the side of his bicep. Not that he typically gave Seven’s comfort much thought, but something about this felt different—it was a discomfort Wes hadn’t intended for.

God fucking dammit. Wes gave another begrudging sigh and carried his little servant back up the stairs to his bedroom. 

He should’ve known the boy wouldn’t be able to handle it. Pushed him too far again, Wes. You fucking dumbass. Wes cursed that he’d have to clean up the espresso by himself now, if he didn’t want it to dry into a big sticky mess—he certainly didn’t—but he had to tend to the manner of his servant first. Wes had been the one to reduce Seven to this state after all. 

Wes deposited Seven on the bed, genuinely trying not to be too rough with him this time, and Seven only gave a small groan in response. “Yeah, yeah,” Wes said with a wave of his hand, turning towards the attached bathroom. 

“You feel like shit,” Wes grumbled to himself, opening the bathroom cabinet to rummage around until he found what he was looking for. A digital thermometer. A bottle of ibuprofen. He snatched a wash cloth off the towel rack and ran it under the cool tap water, giving it a firm squeeze once it was thoroughly soaked. 

“Don’t… don’t feel.. good..” Seven whined softly when Wes returned to the bedroom. His limbs were all splayed out exactly where Wes had left him. It seemed Seven really had spent every last ounce of his energy—Wes had really wrung it all out of him, hadn’t he, just like he’d done to the washcloth in the sink. Wes tried to suppress the urge to mentally kick himself, but the cause and effect here was obvious. He really should’ve just let the damn kid sleep. 

“Mmmnnn too hottt!” Seven whined louder, thrashing a bit, his words slurred like someone too many shots deep. 

“Yeah, could you fucking wait a sec?” Wes snapped, trying and failing to keep the irritation from his voice.  

He set the thermometer and the bottle on the bedside table, before folding the cool wet wash cloth in half and swiping Seven’s bangs up once more off of his face in order to lay the cloth on the servant’s burning forehead. Wes gave it a firm press to make sure it would stay in place, even if Seven moved around a bit. 

Next, the thermometer. “Open,” Wes said, his voice low, as though he’d finally figured out that it wasn’t necessary nor welcome to project one’s voice at such close proximity. Seven’s lips were already parted as he panted slightly, his eyes half lidded and unfocused, and Wes took the opportunity to stick the metal tip right into Seven’s mouth. 

“Close,” Wes felt his tone get a little firmer this time, and Seven obeyed, despite his distress. “Keep it under your tongue. You know the drill.”

Indeed, Seven did know the drill, for this was always the first thing to be done when he felt like this—too hot and too cold at the same time, body shaking slightly, random aches and pains all throughout his limbs. His brain was full of cotton and it hurt to think, so he just listened for when Wes’ voice told him to do something and tried to focus on doing it as well as he could. He couldn’t take any more punishment in this state and would do anything to avoid it. 

Shit. The coffee—Seven suddenly remembered—he’d spilled the fucking coffee. Seven desperately wanted to open his mouth and apologize profusely, but knew if he parted his lips right now and the thermometer fell out, Wes would be even more angry with him. So he just let out a sad closed-lipped whine around the thermometer. 

A few moments later, the thing started beeping loudly, and Wes pulled it from between Seven’s lips. 

“Fuck my life,” Wes sighed. “Yeah, it’s a fever.” Guess I shouldn’t have kept him out all night. Wes felt a sharp tinge of regret in his chest, but he didn’t voice it. He needed Seven to believe that everything Wes did to him was always deserved. It was easier that way, to pretend it was all on purpose, all according to his design. But getting him sick had genuinely been an accident. Having Seven out of commission did nothing but make Wes' life more inconvenient. 

“I…I’m sorry, I’msorry, Sir—” Seven whimpered out the string of apologies, hoping Wes would have mercy on him for once.

Wes just scoffed, and turned without a word, walking back into the bathroom to wash off the tip of the thermometer. Once it was put away, he picked up a glass on the counter and filled it with cool tap water. 

“Gotta get some of these pills in you,” Wes said, his mouth full of gravel as he walked back into the bedroom. “I don’t have a straw up here, so you gotta sit up, Seven.” He punctuated his last few words so they would register as an order to his servant’s likely half-delirious brain. 

Seven’s head indeed was swimming, thick and hot with fever, but he heard the order to sit up and managed to tuck a bent elbow beneath him to prop himself up. He whined a little as he forced himself upright—the sort of sound one might let out when their first morning alarm went off. 

Wes put the cup in Seven’s other hand, and when he was sure the boy wouldn’t instantly drop it, he released his grip to shake three pills out of the ibuprofen container. He held them up to Seven’s face and his servant’s lips parted without being asked, tilting his head back just slightly so Wes could drop the pills into his mouth. Wes let one hand hover beneath the glass as Seven lifted it to his lips, just in case he suddenly fucking dropped it, and took it back when Seven had swallowed all the pills. 

Task complete, Seven let himself collapse back down to the bed sheets once more. “Alright,” Wes set the glass on the side table. “I’ve gotta go clean up the fucking mess you made downstairs,” Wes grunted, turning towards the hallway.

“You’re fucking welcome by the way!” Wes called out on his way out the door.

Seven managed a weak “Th-thank you.. Sir…” before Wes disappeared down the hall and Seven’s eyes slipped shut once more.

༻✦༺

Some of you know what is coming next.. im excited :>

SEVEN taglist  (just ask to be added!)

@oddsconvert @blood-is-compulsory @lonesome--hunter @silversanimewhump @whatwasmyprevioususername 

@suspicious-whumping-egg @theonewithallthefixations @saltyemrys @writing-and-trying @veyroswin 

@whumpdreamz @kitstorm @amazingmagda @honeycollectswhump @ijustwannareadsomestuff 

@fleshand-blood @cryptobiolliegy @whumper-whimsy @electrons2006  @abmwrites 

@ichortwine @pumpkin-spice-whump @jumpywhumpywriter @angstandwhumplover @morning-star-whump 

@softvampirewhump @technicallydeliciousdeer  @scoundrelwithboba  @whumpsday @hellodecisionparalysis

@lolrpop @hiddencowboybarbarian @wolfolkstar @elfwhump @andithewhumper @hueningplushie 

@theloveofwhump @light-me-on-pyre  @hihi24

@thekneelingdoll @glvsnchapsblog @kingbri-guyf @neuronalwhip 

[whump-queen]

a lot of yall have seen me but im curious how many ‘yes’s this gets

do you know what I look like in real life?

yes

no

Voting ended onMay 11

no bald option you either know or u don’t!!

[whump-queen]

pick an au/setting for your whump blorbos to get isekai’d to

medieval/royal au

vampire au

wild west au

mer au

pirate au

high fantasy/dnd au

mafia/mob au

space/sci-fi au

historical/ancient era au

medical/hospital au

robot/android au

Remaining time: 1 day 23 hours

[whump-queen]

okok I want to expand on this poll because the answers are more split than I expected. so I am providing more options.

if you discovered a clone of yourself, what would you do?

fight the clone

fuck the clone

befriend the clone

try to kill the clone

team up with the clone to commit schemes

parent trap. switch places

make them go to work for you so you don’t have to go to work

track down whoever made the clone and destroy them

try to figure out how to make a bunch of clones

kidnap the clone (torture basement)

something else (tag it!)

Voting ended on1h

[talesfromaurea]

Sometimes I lose sight of why I write but then I go back and reread a chapter for editing purposes and go "wait I want to read more of this"

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

reblog if you’re a sick fuck

[pawtheticpuppyboy]

I think when a sub says "you can do whatever you want to me" what they're actually wanting is to not make decisions anymore, and they think by saying this they can foist the decision making off on the dom without having to do any of the work beforehand. But unfortunately to get to the Not Making Choices part of kink you do in fact have to make a Lot Of Choices beforehand and communicate those choices to your partner. This is an essential part of the process and skipping it is both unsafe and unfair for whoever you're playing with.

Not Making Choices is the reward for communicating clearly, not the default

[whump-queen]

if you discovered a clone of yourself would you fuck the clone

yes

no

Remaining time: 1 day 19 hours

no nuance!! bald people go home!!!

[devincastro]

[tguzz]

I will always reblog this

[bradspace3000]

still remember how revolutionary this ad felt 10 years ago

[annesophiewashere]

excuse me but it still feels revolutionary

[stevviefox]

Keep reblogging until it feels normal everywhere.

[ruffboi-mags]

For context: this came out in 2011 in Australia. Same-sex marriage would not be legalized until December 2017.

It was only legalized in 8 US states (the 8th only a few months before), and wouldn’t be legalized nation-wide until 2015.

It was only legal in TEN COUNTRIES in 2011. We wouldn’t hit 20 countries until 2017. (Australia was 23rd)

As of today (April 14, 2026), I believe only 38 countries have fully legalized same-sex marriage. Out of somewhere around 200 countries in the world. That’s only ~19% of countries.

This is still revolutionary.

[rabbitkinglune777]

trans characters that are black deserve to be written and seen but most importantly:

DESERVE TO BE DRIPPED OUT ASF, a cool ass wardrobe n shit. most black trans ppl I know absolutely got that shit on!!! more black pastel soft characters, more black goth characters, more black scene and emo!!! more grunge, more nerdy! we can do anything!!!

[rabbitkinglune777]

give us personalized styles, it helps black characters feel more grounded YAYYYYYY

[writingdose]

write it anyway even if you think it’s bad. a badly written fic is still better than a nonexistent fic.

[feralplantwife]

I want to add that I have read some fic that I felt were bad but they had something about them - story, theme, a specific moment, etc. - that was so interesting or chewy that I think about it to this day, even years later.

So what if you're not someone's next great author? You could also haunt their dreams and nightmares simultaneously, and be the ghost in their daydreams. Don't ever give them peace.

[darkandstormyranger]

finally some relatable content on ig