I’m so sorry to hear about your father and the difficult time you’ve been having. I’ve subscribed to ku specifically to read your stuff (and as a fellow horror writer who struggles to know where to put my writing, you’ve inspired me to maybe do the same someday). I’m sending you all the love and hope the weekend is so incredibly kind to you 💛
YOU DID NOT HAVE TO DO THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM IN TEARS 😭😭😭😭😭 thank you more than anything !!!!! if you can think of anything I can do for YOU please lmk this is TOO kind 🫶🥹😭
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i’m sorry to hear your father passed! i hope you’re doing alright. may his memory be a blessing ❤️
thank you so so much 🫶🫶🫶 im doing much better now !! I’ve been telling myself like, what a blessing to have loved somebody so much you miss them like this & it’s been helping me a lot 🫶
End of year important people list (whump community edition!)
Reblog and tag all of your favorite whump creators, friends in the whump community, anyone in the whump community really, and let them know how much you care about them!
Reblogging from @sorrowful-hyacinth because she got to me first, but huge shoutout to @tildeathiwillwrite and @melpomenelamusa who also tagged me in this wonderful reblog chain.
@sorrowful-hyacinth I can't thank you enough for your artwork that's inspired me time and time again. And for so generously gifting me quite a few glorious pieces! (Istg I will post those, ack!)
@melpomenelamusa for being the best and introducing me to the world of chimeras! Loved, loved, loved writing your Tete!
@piplupfluffwritingstuff2 for believing in me and allowing me to torment your blorbos so often! I think that pieces I wrote for Aurelis sparked my ideas for Starflower, so tysm!
@it-is-whumptastic for brainstorming so many wild whump ideas with me! Miss you much, buddy, and can't wait for you to be free of stupid college (jk/jk go learn important stuff or whatever XD)
@whumperfly-in-the-sky thanks for asking such cool questions and being so patient with my replies. Always a treat when you come around <3
@whumpsandwhimpers, @auroragehenna, @writer-of-worlds, @danatlanwrites, @princessofthe11, @sootheandsavage, @tildeathiwillwrite and @clansocreations for submitting your blorbos to my faces of whump games! You all have such incredible imaginations and I am so honored to have contributed to them in my own small way.
@funwithmydem0ns, @kiiba-whumps and @yet-how-they-creep for hopping onto the friend train recently. Hope to get to know y'all better in 2026!
To all you guys and especially those I've missed in my tagging, y'all have really blessed me with your friendships and awesome community this year! I'm literally so grateful and cannot wait to see what next year holds for us all! Stay whumping <3
Oh! I have some!!! These are to my favorite creators. You guys are so talented, I love all your work! Slay out there all my kings, queens, and other royalty <3 Spread the love if you can!
@whumpitisthen @loreleiloon (I know you tagged me but I couldn't leave you out of this) @elfwhump @whumblr @whumpmebabyonemoretime @forwhump
And to anyone else who I've ever interacted with their posts!
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I'm 20 years old and brand new to the whump community! I'm here to draw comics where my OCs get the tar beat out of them. Hoping to meet like-minded people, I've never actually tried to talk to internet strangers so we'll see how that goes. I draw like this ↓
and I'll probably be posting more images than text
What you can expect:
•Short form comics (I don't know how to read <3)
•Beating
•Restraints
•Drugging
•Gagging
•General Sadism
•Masochistic whumpee
•Emotional Manipulation
•Medical
•NSFWhump
•A lot of transgender men for some reason
What you can't expect
•Bad things happening to kids/old people/animals
•F!Whumpee/M! whumper (bums me out)
•idk i like to think i'm pretty open minded
Also a quick shoutout while I've got your attention to I'd like to direct it towards
@doomeddestination
@holidayinhell
@forwhump
for writing stuff that genuinely improved my life. If you're looking for something smarter than comics check them out
My ask box is always open and I am extremely taking both writing recommendations and drawing suggestions!
jake gyllenhaal played the love interest in the movie version of the play my parents were both working on when they met. so i always experience a strange feeling when he’s brought up
THIS IS SO CUTE ACTUALLY I LOVE THIS
he always makes me think of that post that’s like “why would you ask us, a narnia blog, this” & I haven’t been able to shake that for years
Something you do EXCEPTIONALLY well is write really likeable characters (not Point). I can’t remember the last time I read something and rooted for the mc the same way I’m rooting for Wren. You could take two years off posting and once you came back I’d be right back here eating it up because I NEED to know what happens to him. I love him (and this story) so much. Thank you for sharing him (it) with us ❤️❤️❤️
THIS IS SO NICE I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY 😭 THANK YOU SO !!!!!!! MUCH
when I first started posting I actually just hated posting because nothing in the world scares me as much as putting myself & my fragile little guys out there but you guys have made it so easy because you’ve all been SO SO SO nice to me & my guys 😭😭😭 like it feels undeserved but it means the whole world to me thank you so so much <3
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a/n; hello I’m so sorry I’m back once again 😔 The People have requested more horrible things happening to wren, so I present to you : some horrible things happening to wren !! poor guy has not a single good day in his life
tw/cw: rape/noncon, captivity, sexual violence, sexual slavery, psychological torture, misgendering, transphobia
creepy whumper, intimate whumper
Wren’s wrists are tied to the headboard so tightly the bruises around them had split open.
Blood trickles down his skin and pools between the visible jut of the bones in his forearms. As he bleeds, helpless, Point flips him onto his stomach on the filthy mattress, pushing his face into it with one hand, pulling his hips up and towards him with the other. Wren sobs and it’s muffled by the stained sheets. Point laughs at him for it, and it’s a mean sound. Cruel.
“Come on. Cry a little louder for me, baby,” he coos. “I wanna hear you.”
The only, miniscule bit of control he has in his pathetic life, Wren tries to bite his tongue, tries not to give Point the satisfaction of hearing him cry, of taking even more of what he wants from Wren, but Wren is weak, and he’s in so much pain. It had been hours. Hours he’d spent tied to this rotting mattress in this cheap motel room. The blood, tracked down the inside of his thighs, has yet to even dry when Point pushes back inside him and Wren screams into the sheets. He wishes he could help it. He can’t.
“That’s it,” he croons. “There’s my good girl.”
Not for the first time, Wren wishes this would kill him. He wishes he would bleed to death, or that his body would finally just give out. How much can the human body withstand, really? How much more life could Wren possibly have in him?
It’s hard not to think about Silas. Point had told him he had died, and it wasn’t hard to imagine. Silas had been a liability for a long time. He was strong and he was violent. They couldn’t control him. It had always been only a matter of time before they decided his life wasn’t worth the lives of every person working in the district. But it was just as hard to believe, because Silas had died before. He died a lot. He died for Wren so many times that Wren couldn’t even count how many. And he always came back.
It’s hard not to imagine him breaking down the door to the shitty motel room. Backlit by the neon glow of the seedy strip outside, he’d be a monstrous silhouette in the doorway. He’d rip Point off of him before he ripped him apart with his hands and his teeth. Then he’d pick Wren up, and he’d be so careful with him. So gentle. Always so gentle with Wren, the only person that had been since his very last day. Silas, the monster, the brute, was always so careful not to hurt him. He’d clean the blood from Wren’s skin and they’d get out of there. Maybe they’d finally get their chance to be happy.
In real life, Silas is likely dead underground. He lived and died a horrible, bloodied life that nobody on the surface will ever know about. They won’t ever know something like Silas ever existed. The world will keep turning but Wren will never be the same.
He hopes they get another shot. That they’ll find each other again in their next life. Wren was a good person when he was a person. Silas was violent, and he could be mean, and he’d killed so many people, so horrifically, but there was still so much goodness in him. He didn’t want to be a monster. All he ever wanted, all he ever tried to do was save Wren. And he tried again and again and again, no matter how many times he died for it. No matter how many times they tortured him to death because of it. That has to count for something, right? They’ve earned a chance to be happy together. They must have.
In this life, the only part of Wren that doesn’t want to die is the part still clinging to the hope that Silas will save him. Silas always saved him. There’s that expression, whatever it is about death and taxes. Wren would have to argue it. Legally, he’s dead, so he isn’t paying his taxes. And legally, he’s dead, but for whatever reason, his bleeding, battered body just won’t give up. It won’t let him die. The only two guarantees in Wren’s life, since he’d been taken to the district, are that Point would hurt him, and SIlas would save him. How long does he keep hoping? When does he give up?
It’s so much more than wanting to be saved. More than anything else, Wren misses him. Even if he couldn’t save him, even if he were just there with him, it would be enough. He misses the way his hand felt in Wren’s, rough with scar tissue but always so warm. He misses the rumble of his voice. The slant of his smile, dimpled, always crooked because of that scar at the corner of his mouth. He misses the way he would look at Wren, like nobody else ever had, like the world started and ended with him. He misses how carefully Silas would brush his hair for him, when he just couldn’t do it himself, and he misses the pleased noises Silas would make when Wren would do the same for him.
Wren can’t imagine he’ll have a long life, as stubborn as his body might be, but if he got the chance, would he want to? If he were rescued right now, and he sent them down there to the district, and Silas really was dead down there, not a trace that he ever lived at all, what would he do? Could Wren live a whole life without him? He doesn’t even have a picture of him. How many years would Wren be able to remember that smile before the memory started to fray around the edges? How long would he be able to cling to the memory of the sound of his voice?
Facedown on a soiled mattress in a filthy, pay by the hour motel room, Wren sobs so hard he would swear his ribs rattle against each other. For it, Point purrs against the back of his neck.
“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, breath warm against Wren’s sensitive, bruised skin. Still, it gives him goosebumps, the sickly, feverish kind. “You feel so fucking good.”
In the very beginning, before Wren was brought into the unit, back when all he knew of the district was the inside of Point’s bunk, Point and his men had almost killed him. They hadn’t broken his pelvis, but shattered it. The nerve damage he’d received was permanent. He doesn’t remember much from this time, probably thankfully, but he knows Point had gone to Medic for help when it was clear Wren was dying.
Wren hates Point for this almost as much as anything else. One of the most selfish things Point’s done, in the time Wren’s known him, was save Wren’s life. Why did he bother? Just to watch him die again, more slowly? Or was he truly just not going to ever let him go?
When Point pulls out, it’s not because he’s done with him, but to turn him over again and onto his back. The tie at his wrists, a strip of gingham Point had torn out of one of Wren’s skirts, is pulled a little tighter and Wren bleeds a little heavier down his arms. With a grin, Point folds Wren’s legs against his chest and holds him there as he forces himself inside him again. “Eyes on me, cowgirl,” he tells him lowly. “I want you to look at me when I come inside you.”
Wren wants to claw both Point’s eyes out with his fingernails. He still remembers the way Hal had screamed as Vineyard had carved out his eyes — has never been able to forget it, in fact, still hears it sometimes when he dreams of the district — and he wonders if Point would scream the same way. He likes to think he would.
“That’s it, baby,” Point groans. Wren is bleeding so much he can feel it soaking through the already filthy sheets beneath him. It will stain. This mattress will never forget what was done to him. “I love when you look at me like that.”
Before knowing Point, Wren never would’ve thought it possible to hate anything the way he hates him. Sometimes, he thinks of his wife, waiting at home for him. Could she really have no idea what her husband is truly like? Sometimes, he hates her, too, just for being able to love something like him. She let him name their fuckin’ baby after Wren. If ever he gets away from Point, if he survives this, that lady owes him a fuckin’ apology.
Point takes him by the jaw. He doesn’t let Wren look away, holding eye contact as he comes inside him again with a rumbling groan that makes his skin crawl. “That’s it,” he murmurs, so low it makes Wren’s hair stand on end. “Take it all. I know you can take it. There’s my good girl.”
Wren doesn’t wanna die in a shitty hotel room, not really, but he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep living like this. As long as he’d been in the district, all he’d wanted was to get out, to get to the surface again, to live above ground. And now he’s here, and all he wants is to go back, to be where SIlas is. Now he’s here, and he’s never been so alone in his life.
He closes his eyes tightly as Point pulls away again, but of course he’s not finished with him yet. Of course Wren can’t catch a break for even a second. He doesn’t even get time to catch his breath.
Point doesn’t unknot his wrists but he unties him from the slats in the headboard. As he does, he says, “now come here and suck it clean, cowgirl.”
Wren doesn’t open his eyes. He thinks again about how good it would feel to pry Point’s eyes from their sockets with his thumbs. “I don’t want to.”
Point snorts. “When do you think I started to give a fuck about you want?” He asks, but it isn’t really a question. “I said come here and suck yourself off my cock.”
“Darren,” he says, and surprises even himself with how weak his voice sounds, how broken, “please. I’m so tired.”
His eyes are still closed, so he doesn’t see Point’s fist pull back but he feels it when he cracks it into his mouth so hard he chips one of his teeth. “I don’t give a fuck how tired you are,” he snaps, and when Wren’s eyes fly open, he’s leaned in close, too close. “You’ll do whatever I fuckin’ tell you to do. If I tell you to suck my cock,” and he says this part like a warning, low and lethal, “you open your mouth and you suck my fuckin’ cock. Y’hear me?”
Despite being born and raised in Texas, despite having a devout Southern Baptist mother, Wren had never been an overtly religious person, but he would be lying if he said the whole idea didn’t just seem laughable to him now. Wren had been a good person. He wasn’t a saint, but he’d been a good guy. If there was a God, like his mother so confidently believed, if there was any version of one out there, how could they let something like this happen? How could any God just sit by and watch this?
“What are you gonna do?” He asks, and his voice breaks. “Kill me?”
“No, cowgirl,” Point promises softly, and he grins. “But you’re gonna wish you were dead.”
LMFAOOOOOOO I LOVE the way you think but unfortunately I think you would need to be the one talking silas through it because he would NOT know what he’s doing
Does anyone have any recommendations for good living weapon whump? Particularly, for when the living weapon knows perfectly well what they're doing is wrong, ie, not born into it, and who is used against people they love.
personally i think @forwhump ‘s Silas is actually the closest i can think to fitting this description. boosting because id also be interested in more Winter Soldier type living weapons but i don’t know v many off the top of my head :<
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I miss you and Wren. I always look forward to you posting again, but in the meantime I hope Wren's finding the tiniest glimmer of hope in an otherwise horrifying day. Living his worst life but dreaming about introducing Silas to his cows. Hope you're doing well!
I MISS YOU !!!!!!!!!!!!!! wren’ll be back soon just for you 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛
I’m not sure if you’re still active, but I saw some of your posts and honestly a lot of what you say feels so relatable because im a new writer myself and i cant wait to grow to your level of writing and posting your own work, even if you feel super scared about it.
I see myself in you and i want you to know youre doing great !
thank you so so much !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this means the world to me !!