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@oliviagordonwrites
Cradle the morning to your chest the time before anything hurts when sleep has briefly healed you and the light doesn't pierce, it promises The sunrise is soft enough to swallow it will hold you up as the day begins to ache hold this quiet tightly to your body the tender dawn may choose to hug you back
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Cradle the morning to your chest the time before anything hurts when sleep has briefly healed you and the light doesn't pierce, it promises The sunrise is soft enough to swallow it will hold you up as the day begins to ache hold this quiet tightly to your body the tender dawn may choose to hug you back
Are bandaids cool?
Yes
No
The people of Melvik had a troubling issue It was nothing to sneeze at (and not one had a tissue), Their streets and their gutters were all overrun With an oversized pack of shapeshifting flun.
The flun were so vicious that the strongest men fled And even the women admitted some dread. Children and teens were locked up indoors And elderly locals left Melvik in scores.
But hope was not lost for a bright pair of housemates, For they knew the villains that every flun hates. If they caught just a whiff of a nine-legged nuss, A terrified flun would shift right into dust.
So they rallied support and imported the beasts, Then released them outside to have a flun-feast. The town was so glad that they lit up cigars, And began wearing flun dust like battle-won scars.
Then the nine-legged nuss started climbing the walls. They shattered the pavement and up-chucked hairballs. With dozens of nuss blocking traffic and sun, The town had to cancel its annual run.
But a local pro knew how to win back the city: The nuss would flee fast at the sight of a biddy. In the dead of the night, they released their secret stash And the itty-bitty monsters scared the nuss in a flash.
The nuss ran away in a flurry of groans, Though the slower ones stayed as a heap of clean bones. The people each chose some to wear âround their necks To celebrate the end of that nine-legged hex!
Then the biddy multiplied, as biddy often do, Making an impenetrable cloud of bright green and blue. People swatted the buggers, but it was no use A dense biddy storm needed a strong-willed intoose!
They all worked together to bait lines and cast, Then tipped over the bucket of intoose theyâd amassed. The biddy dropped dead as the finned creatures wiggled, For the vortex they formed sucked in anything little.
As the fog of biddy faded, the people cheered in the square, Then squashed green-blue debris of biddy bodies in their hair. As if to join the party, the intoose sped up their flopping, And sucked in a child, then three more without stopping.
But the knowledgeable elders knew just what to do: Only a couple of vrool, and those intoose were through! The old-timers whistled till they were blue in the face, Which summoned the vrool from a strange pocket of space.
The vrool made quick work of the vortex of fish, The danger was doused by their horns with a squish. Melvik was pleased, and as a tribute to Pax, They harvested fins and stuck them onto their backs.
The vrool loomed over the city and its hills, Their shadows cast darkness and gave everyone chills. Crops began to die as the vrool blocked the sun, And the citizens doubted this tough battle could be won.
But one child recalled from their lessons at school A surefire way to banish the vrool. The vrool had no enemies at the top of the chain, Still, every creature alive could be weakened by pain.
They used sirens and shouts to drive out the brutes, Piercing their eardrums with brass, clatters, and hoots. They made such a ruckus that the vrool went red-faced, And the beasts shed their horns to get out posthaste!
The people of Melvik danced, jumped, and spun For the last critter crisis was over and done. They donned the vrool horns and kept dancing all night, Till they all fell asleep as if struck with a blight.
Now, the neighboring village had heard news of the trouble. Melvikâs people, overrun, needed help on the double. They packed up their weapons and hiked to the town, To rumble with monsters, be they yeck, flun, or trown!
But what they found were tall creatures with shimmering skin Fearsome horns on their heads and backs with sharp fins. They had bones âround their necks, surely counting their kills, And their blue and green stripes were quite threatening frills.
They snuck through the town while the monsters were sleeping, And found no survivors that needed safekeeping. So they turned on their heels and left with no sound, And, grieving Melvikâs poor victims, burned it all to the ground.
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Call me chama the way I got no rizz
b and d <- brothers having a nice chat with a friend (c).
p and q <- nemeses and narrative foils separated not by distance, but by the breathtaking pause that carries the heart of both their love and their enmity
Wake up sheeple the future is Tetris
In a year and a half, I have published no stories, but I have certainly gotten better at Tetris
You tell a shapeshifter they have beautiful eyes. Every time you see them, they have more.
I finished Ethenriel's introduction short story, so I drew my tortured boy!
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âI think itâs alright now, darling,â said Joseph Bernatowicz, of the New York Bernatowiczes. He opened the heavy door, which let out a clean-sounding hiss and let in the orange light of the midday sky.
Heather Bernatowicz passed her wine glass to a nearby staff member and leaned around her husband to investigate the vast expanse of sludgy water. âNot a moment too soon. I simply cannot stand another day of that freeze dried nonsense chef is always preparing. How long do you think it will smell like that?â
âI canât imagine it will last long.â
âItâs horrid. Close the door.â
Joseph was not in the habit of doing what his wife told him. He might have considered it if she had phrased it better â Do you think closing the door would help? â but faced with an imperative, he had no choice but to come up with his own idea. âIn a while, dear. The staff needs to take out our trash first.â
âWell, thank God for that, at least.â Heather despondently adjusted her hair and retreated deeper into the bunker. She hoped all the radiation would be dealt with soon so that she could go to a real salon again. âNatalie, would you be a doll and heat some bath water?â
Joseph ground his teeth as he followed her down the steep hallway. It was always would you this and could you that with the staff.
âSorry, Mrs. Bernatowicz,â said Natalie, stopping the couple in their tracks. Natalie remained rooted by the open door, gazing out onto the bruised landscape with something like relief on her face. âOur contract stipulates that my employment here ends as soon as the door is opened.â
A small thunderstorm of footsteps echoed from the other side of the tunnel, and soon the rest of the staff came into view, hefting heavy bags on their shoulders. They werenât in uniform, and many of them already had gas masks over their faces. The four at the back of the crowd â Joseph couldnât remember their names, but he knew they typically mucked about near the kitchens â each lifted one corner of a small skiff.
âWhat is the meaning of this?â Joseph roared.
âIt was all in the contract, sir,â Natalie said, ducking around her former employer long enough to grab a bag from another ex-staff member.
âI wouldnât have agreed to this! Iâll be calling my lawââ but Joseph abruptly snapped his mouth shut. His lawyer had lived near the shoreline; her home had been swept away before the Bernatowiczes even went underground.
âJoseph, do something!â said Heather.
Another demand.
The boat-bearers squeezed past, and the couple could only look on, shocked and offended.
âDaria!â Heather cried as a familiar face nearly disappeared outside. âWhere are you going? You canât leave. IâŚthe baâI donât know where youâve hidden away the diapers!â
Daria waved on her friends, who joked and laughed as they exited the bunker. âTheyâre in the nursery with the rest of Preciousâs things, but youâre nearly out anyway. I put a cloth one on him before his nap just now, so copy that with some of your old clothes and youâll get by.â
With that, Daria stepped outside and swung her luggage into the waiting boat, which was filling fast with people and their belongings.
âNo, Daria! Please!â Heather burst into tears. âAfter everything Iâve done for you!â
Daria stepped onto the boat. She and Natalia struck up a song, and the others joined in.
âExcuse us,â came a voice from behind the Bernatowiczes. The last four staff members tilted a second boat on its side to squeeze it out the door. The crowd outside cheered as they set the boat in the water.
âWait!â called Joseph. âDonât leave yet! Weâll set off tomorrow after breakfast instead.â He finally matched a name to a face and added, âJackson, how long will it take to pack our things? Just the essentials for now.â
Jackson glanced awkwardly between the two boats. âThe boats are overloaded as it is, Mr. Bernatowicz. We really canât take anything else. That's not worth its weight, anyway.â
Joseph held back an angry tirade, and pulled out his wallet. He counted off six crisp bills and held them out to Jackson, perturbed but confident.
âAh,â Jackson grimaced, looking even more awkward than before. âI think thereâll be plenty of kindling on the other side of the water, sir.â
Jackson pushed the boats further into the water, jumping on the second without getting his feet wet.
Joseph and Heather Bernatowicz watched in silent horror as their staff slowly paddled away, deftly avoiding the odd pocket of low-burning flames as if they had been doing it all their lives.
âI just canât believe this,â Heather said through her hiccuping sobs; the only sound in the sudden eerie silence of their reality. âJoseph, call someone!â
Another demand.
WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST
Welcome to Whumptober 2024 â Seventh Time's a Charm!
Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as 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 yearâs AO3 Collection can be found here.
This year's playlist can be found here.
And the Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt post can be found here.
Weâre very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)
Ethenriel tried not to cry. The pain throbbing across his torso was bad, but it only got worse when his body shook. He was covered in deep gashes that wouldnât heal and tiny cuts that didnât numb. Every breath burned. Heâd taken to holding his breath for as long as he could stand it, but gasping in air when he finally needed it made him feel like the blades were piercing him all over again.
Ascentra had been merciless. His face hadnât changed even when Ethenriel screamed. Heâd thrust a knife deep into Ethenrielâs torso, left it there to fester before finally dragging it back out, then he had expertly inserted a long, fat syringe into the center of Ethenrielâs worst mass of scars. Slowly, heâd drawn out the clear fluid that kept Ethenriel alive.
It would keep anyone alive.
Thatâs why it sold so well.
Slowly, Ethenriel inched one hand to his side to cover the sensitive area. His skin felt hotter there. With all the wounds, the little organ would be working overtime trying to create and pump out immunity cells to heal him. Humans had started calling it the elixir of life after making contact with Sivians decades ago. The name had caught on all over the space-faring galaxy, and even Sivians called it elixir now. Ethenriel couldnât remember the Sivian word for it, but didnât know if he simply never learned it or if it was gone with the rest of his missing memories.
He winced. Somewhere a muscle had twitched, sparking a fresh wave of pain. He held his breath. It didnât help.
The door opened and closed quietly somewhere behind Ethenriel. He was curled up on the cotânow sticky and wet with bloodâfacing the wall. He didnât dare move to watch Ascentra enter. Tall Ascentra with something else in his family treeânormal black eyes, rich pheromones, but no special organ hidden away in his torso to heal him.Â
âAre you still breathing, beauty?â he said.
Ethenriel drew in a breath, but didnât answer. He didnât even open his eyes.
âAre you thirsty?â
He was. Desperately. He heard something slosh and risked tilting his neck up, hoping Ascentra would at least pour a few drops of water over his lips.
âCome and get a drink.â Ethenriel could hear the cold smile in Ascentraâs voice. âWe need to keep those cuts open, don't we?â
Have you considered that I'm not a slow writer but I just have to stop every paragraph to perform extensive literary analysis. Have you considered that
What's interesting about this post is that the first sentence, though a question, uses a period instead of a question markâperhaps indicating that the speaker does not want a response. Given the defensive tone of the statement, the period certainly seems to reinforce the idea of preemptively halting any reply.
And yet, the second sentence has no terminating punctuation at all. While it's possible that it is simply conforming to the standards of the medium, it would not be too much of a stretch to interpret the lack of punctuation as an invitation for continuation. A certain subtle attempt to request a reply, without shifting tone.
The repetition of "have you considered" also invites a definite tension to the post. Coupled with the punctuation of each sentence, the first is defensive, but the second is almost pleading. The speaker here seems to be saying "It's not my fault, but forgive me anyway."
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Have you considered that I'm not a slow writer but I just have to stop every paragraph to perform extensive literary analysis. Have you considered that
Pick
Mind controlled
Brainwashed
