pixelated-whump - Tumblr blog

[pixelated-whump]

Not back yet (still working on getting some stuff done), but I do have one to add on!

Nosebleeds, if they’re anything like me then they cry so card that their nose starts bleeding

details about crying that aren’t just about the tears

puffy, red-rimmed eyelids

hitching breaths or gasping for breath

feeling drained/exhausted after, like they’ve just run for miles

a headache building behind their eyes in anticipation for an ugly cry

feeling dehydrated and sick after

an explosive cry, where they lash out and hit something between hot, angry sobs

nose getting clogged and completely stuffed up

hiccuping

vividly red, bloodshot eyes

smothering a sound with a hand over their mouth or by biting down on something

the massive headache after

face feeling sticky, wet, and just overall gross

lips/hands/body trembling

trying to fight off or suppress another round of crying after a tentative calm

feel free to add on!

[pixelated-whump]

Must specify that yes, I’m still alive, I’ve been having a ton of health issues. My doctor thinks I have sleep apnea, so my hope is to get that sorted out, get my “new” laptop set up, then go back to my sporadic posting, as per usual.

So yes, I’m alive!! But I have eepy boy disease

[pixelated-whump]

Just fyi I got my appendix removed Sunday so I haven't been on my PC too much (I usually lay on my stomach, so it's a no-go for now), not sure when I'll be active on my blogs and stuff but yeah

[pixelated-whump]

This is gonna be a little longer so it's going under the cut

Hurt or Comfort

Defiance or Obedience

Dehydration or Starvation

Modern or Historical

Whumper or Caretaker

Visual or Written

Cold or Heat

Drabbles or Stories

Ropes or Chains

Screams or Silence

Gags or Muzzles

Creating or Consuming

Forced to Watch or Forced to Hurt

Gore or Non-Gore

Non-Human Victim or Human Victim

AFAB Victim or AMAB Victim

Extra Info (Specifically elaborating on my choices

I love both tbh, and it really goes with my answer for 5

I love both, but I adore a defiant whumpee slowly turning more obedient and eventually succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome

Starvation, mainly so a whumper can use food as leverage

I don't know how to write historical settings that well

Carewhumper???? Give me more carewhumper please??????

I have a bit of a weak stomach when it comes to visual whump, but I don't mind either

Frostbite :3

Stories are more fun for me personally, but drabbles are fine too!

Chains because rope burn fucking SUCKS man I don't wanna do that to my blorbos

Screams are so fun, especially helpless screams

Muzzles is amazing for pet whump (a personal favorite)

I come up with so many stories in my head that I just. Enjoy creating so much

The helplessness that comes from watching someone be hurt while you're restrained is SO GOOD

Weak stomach unfortunately, I can read it I just don't go out of my way to

If you look at the rest of my blog... yeh, non-human whump is my favorite

AFAB because I'm trans so I usually write transmasc whumpees

This or That: Whump Edition

Guess who made an official This or That game for whump enjoyers:)

Rules: Drag a line over your preference. If you need to elaborate, do so in the ‘extra info’ section below! If neither are your cup of tea, you can either ignore it or make up your own system to show that it’s not applicable:)

Click the 'read more' for a blank template and all your options in case you can't see it or don't want to use the photo:)

Hurt or Comfort

Defiance or Obedience

Dehydration or starvation

Modern or Historical

Whumper or Caretaker

Visual or Written

Cold or Heat

Drabbles or Stories

Ropes or Chains

Screams or Silence

Gags or Muzzles

Creating or Consuming

Forced to watch or Forced to hurt

Gore or Non-gore

Non-human victim or Human victim

AFAB victim or AMAB victim

[pixelated-whump]

TWs: Referenced trafficking (I intended it to be like... hybrid trafficking but you can imagine it as whatever), Suicidal Whumpee

Beneath the cut is a short drabble I wrote surrounding a scenario in my head, but I barely know anything about the fandom I wanted to write it for, so I made it more ambiguous.

Whumpee barely has the energy to lift their head as someone enters their cell. “Are you here to kill me?” They rasp, a glimmer of hope in their chest. They can finally rest.

The person looks taken aback by their question. They pause for a moment before answering. “No, I’m here to rescue you. I’m with an organization that gets trafficked people back home.”

Their response is carefully crafted. Whumpee hates them for it. “...Why? Why me..?”

The person approaches them carefully, like they’re a cornered rat. “Why wouldn’t I help you?” They ask, kneeling in front of Whumpee. Their face is so kind.

“I don’t want to live,” Whumpee says softly. “You’d be doing me a favor by killing me.”

The person purses their lips. “Forgive me for being selfish, but I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

Whumpee lets their head drop back onto their arms. The person places a gentle hand on their back. “Can I pick you up?”

“...Yeah.”

[pixelated-whump]

Defiant Whumpee who cries when they're angry, but has a high pain tolerance. Whumper loves to see them cry, so when they first learn they cry out of anger, Whumper takes to riling them up on purpose to get them to cry.

Maybe Whumper makes fun of them for it, maybe Whumpee has been bullied for this exact thing before. Maybe it's even just a massive source of embarrassment!

I just love the thought of a Whumpee crying out of sheer anger and not fear.

[pixelated-whump]

Please share propaganda in the notes!

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Thirty-One - Headaches

Contents: Happy Halloween! It's my birthday, and while I might not do this again next year, I had fun. No real content warnings this time, enjoy the story!

Characters are Kris (He/They/Xe, Ref) and Palette (He/Him, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

Kris wakes up with a splitting headache. It’s not necessarily unusual for him, he’s dealt with this ever since he was a kid, but it hasn’t gotten any easier.

Normally, he’d take some medicine and get to work on whatever he’s been working on anyways, but when he moves his head, a jolt of pain goes through him. A groan escapes him, which only serves to make the pain worse.

The shifter throws the comforter over his head, shutting his eyes in an attempt to ease the headache- no, definitely a migraine. Fuck.

He lays there for a while, trying to ease his migraine, to little success. He doesn’t know how much time has passed when the door to the bedroom opens, and there’s a soft voice. “Kris? Are you awake, honey?”

He reaches a hand out from under the covers to give a thumbs up, and Palette sits down on his own side of the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Migraine,” Kris mumbles, barely audible.

Palette hears him, though, lowering his own voice to barely above a whisper. “Do you need medicine for it?”

“Please.”

Palette leaves for maybe five minutes at most, coming back with a cup of water and two pills. He sets them down, and Kris can hear him closing the curtains. “There we go,” He says, returning to his boyfriend’s side. “Can I sit you up?”

“...Mhm.”

Palette gently moves him to a sitting position, frowning slightly when Kris winces. He hands the water and medicine to him, which the shifter gratefully accepts. He sighs softly, the water definitely helping his head, at least a little bit. He finishes the water, after taking the pills, of course, and hands the empty cup back to the squirrel. “Thanks,” He murmurs, leaning close.

Palette kisses him gently, brushing hair out of his face. “Of course. Take as much time as you need before getting up, I’ll handle the kids today.”

“Mm, alright,” Kris hums, laying back down and closing his eyes.

He can rest, knowing his boyfriend has it covered.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Thirty - Possession

Contents: Weird science, a sequel to my Day Five post (albeit with a chunk of time skipped).

Extra Notes: Souls and ghosts are different in this universe. Ghosts are born as ghosts, while souls are what every living being has, so basically the equivalent to ghosts in our world. It's a bit confusing, I know.

Characters are Cookie (She/Her, Ref) and Wren (She/Her, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

Cookie had felt her soul literally being ripped from her body. It was far from pleasant.

She doesn’t know how to describe the burning agony she had felt when it happened, and now she’s sitting there in a dirty basement, watching her abductor control her body. Cookie almost wonders if she’s having a fever dream.

But the pain she had felt was very real, and this is very real. If Wren (that’s what the woman said her name was, anyways) could even see her, she gave no indication.

Cookie’s body’s eyes are black with white X’s, which is the only indication that anything’s wrong. Wren stretches (again, still in Cookie’s body), almost mockingly. “I still can’t believe that worked,” She murmurs, probably to herself. “Cookie, I assume you’re still here, unless I accidentally killed you. Still, I hope you realize how valuable you’ve been to me. Sorry things had to turn out this way.”

“You’re not fucking sorry,” Cookie growls, but Wren is already leaving.

The wolf stands there, wondering what the absolute hell she’s supposed to do.

She doesn’t know. She really doesn’t know.

So she follows Wren, hoping she can figure something out from watching the woman.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Nine - Bargaining / Forced to Choose

Contents: Cults! That's always fun. Also some descriptions of body horror (which aren't that bad in my art style lmao), minor character death, all that jazz.

Characters are Niko (They/Scor, Ref which is literally my Roblox avatar lmfao) and Creator (Any, mostly They/It/Fae/Xe, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

“What do you want with me?” Niko asks, trying to keep the tremor out of their voice, not that it really does much for them.

The... well, they aren’t sure what it is. It stands tall over them, pale gold skin and a head literally detached from its body. That’s not to mention the wings, horns, deer legs, and a permanent shadow over the upper half of its head, yet its eyes can still be seen.

It’s fucking terrifying, and Niko is pretty sure it wants them dead.

It brings its clawed hand to their face and tilts their chin up, making eye contact with them. “Well... we both know you saw something you weren’t supposed to see, correct?”

Niko slaps its hand away, which is probably a bad decision, but their entire life has been full of bad decisions anyways, so what does it matter? It grins, presumably to itself, with red teeth gleaming in the faint moonlight glimmering through the trees. “I won’t tell anyone,” They hiss, and that’s not entirely a lie. They won’t tell anyone other than, y’know, the police.

It shrugs, gesturing to the person (probably an adventurer or something, judging by their outfit) it just killed. “Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead,” It says cheerfully, stepping closer to Niko.

They feel their heart drop to their stomach, eyes widening. “N-No! I can- I dunno, whatever you want, I’ll do it, just-”

It tilts its head, a wide smile on its face, watching them with glowing eyes. “Do you really think you could be of use to me?”

Niko nods, not trusting their voice to work right now. It grins even wider. “I could use... a devotee, if you will, to my... cause. But I hope you realize that means total secrecy. If you were to tell anyone, well...”

Once again, it gestures to the corpse behind it. “You’ve already seen what happens. I’m sure we can both agree that one outcome is certainly better than the other, correct?”

Niko swallows thickly, nodding. It giggles to itself. “I don’t take kindly to double agents, either,” It says, leaning down to be at eye level with them. “I have eyes everywhere, you know.”

They aren’t sure if it’s bluffing.

“So, what will it be?” It asks, that never-faltering smile unnerving the shit out of them.

“It’s a deal,” Niko says, voice shaky. “But... what even is your ‘cause’?”

“The details aren’t important,” It hums, shaking their hand. “You’ve made a good choice, my dear.”

“I’m-” They try to introduce themself, but it cuts them off.

“Niko, yes, I am aware,” It says, confirming that it probably wasn’t bluffing. “You may call me... Creator. I feel that is a suitable name, no?”

One hell of an ego, Is what Niko’s first thought is. Instead, they find themself nodding.

“I’m glad you agree,” Creator hums. “Come, let’s go get you proper attire, if you’re going to be devoted to me from now on, yes?”

And Niko follows them, wondering what the hell they just got themself into.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Eight - Sweating

Contents: Did a pretty tame version of this prompt, and I'm gonna be prewriting the last three prompts today since I'm gonna be pretty busy in the upcoming days. Otherwise, please note that all of these characters are animals, but they aren't really hurt, just inconvenienced.

Characters are Scooter (She/Her, Ref), Branch (He/Him, Ref), and Snips (He/Him, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

Branch grimaces as he steps out of his den, the hot sun beating down on him. His fur is thin, especially during the summer months, so it’s immediately unpleasant to be outside during this kind of heat. There’s not even a breeze to lessen the heat.

The only solace he has is that his fur is white, so it keeps a little bit of the heat off. Branch turns his head just in time to see Scooter slinking out of the den behind him. “It’s miserable out here, isn’t it?”

He hums in confirmation, watching as Scooter’s pawprints leave behind darker marks than normal. Sweat.

She has it a little worse than him, what with having thick fur and all, but she doesn’t complain, just stalking into the woods, presumably to find food.

It’s around the same time that Snips exits his own den, squinting in the harsh sunlight. He looks around for a brief second, before scurrying over to Branch. “Is Spike coming over? Is he already here?”

The cat gives him a small shrug, looking around. “I wouldn’t know. I kind of doubt it, though, with this heat.”

Snips groans overdramatically and starts licking at his fur, which he had mentioned helps him to cool down. The ground underneath Branch’s paws are also drenched in sweat, and he’s panting.

This day is gonna be miserable.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Seven - Immortal

TWs: Snips may be immortal but he still dies kinda, also he's an opossum so animal death TW obviously, and it's a little graphic

Contents: Hi wow it's 9pm and I just finished this, uhhh hi

Character is Snips (He/Him, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

Snips is dying. He knows this.

Not in his cool, awesome, totally-dead-but-actually-pretending kind of way, no, he’s actually bleeding out, choking on his own blood as he lays in a pool of the stuff.

Oddly enough, he isn’t scared. There’s a fuzzy feeling in his head as he reflects on what led to this moment.

There was a car, that’s what he’s sure of. He isn’t sure if the person inside even saw him crossing the road, chasing after some fallen leaves blowing in the wind.

Snips remembers the sound and feeling of his bones being crushed. It all feels so distant now. He’s tired.

So he closes his eyes, waiting for the infinite dream that awaits him.

.

..

...

..

.

And then he wakes up.

Snips opens his eyes.

He’s in the forest again, his own blood staining his fur. But he’s not hurting anymore, and he’s not dead, at least, as far as he knows.

His limbs ache, but he’s alive.

Snips finds himself going to the spot where he’s pretty sure he died. There’s still blood on the pavement.

One thought crosses his mind. Am I... immortal?

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Six - Came Back Wrong

TWs: K is heavily implied to have died as a child at the hand of her own father, there's a lot of Christianity references here (I am not religious but I don't have problems with people who are obv), and also self-dehumanization

Contents: Other than all that up there, not too much else. I kinda wrote this on autopilot so it might not make much sense.

Character is Katrina // K (She/They, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

She didn’t know what to expect after death.

She has vague memories of being a young child and being told about Heaven, and how that’s where good people went.

She has more recent memories of being told she’d go to Hell, because she was a mistake by God.

Which one is true, she can’t tell you.

Katrina always thought that Heaven was a kingdom in the clouds, and Hell was deep underground and constantly on fire.

She’s in neither of those places right now.

Instead, she’s in a stark black void, her own body, now the same shade of black, is outlined by white. It’s eerie and unnerving, and completely unnatural to everything she’s ever known.

And Katrina knows she died. She remembers the long, painful hours she spent bleeding out on the kitchen floor for doing absolutely nothing. By her own father’s hand, no less.

Katrina should be dead, but she somehow isn’t.

And that terrifies her.

She looks at her goopy, melting body. Something like her doesn’t deserve a proper name, not anymore.

“My name is K,” She says into the empty blackness, her own voice feeling unfamiliar on her tongue.

No normal person lives after being killed, nor comes back as something so horrific.

She isn’t normal anymore.

Maybe she never was.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Five - Nightmares / "Why didn't you save me?"

TWs: K is suicidal and is also implied to have died in the past

Contents: A lot of guilt is here, also what led up to this isn't mentioned much but it does have lore, I just refuse to share it bc I'm tired and lazy (/hj)

Character is K (She/They, Ref)

Also posted on Ao3!

K doesn’t sleep much. When she does, her mind is often plagued with endless nightmares and memories of the past. She considers it a blessing that she doesn’t need much sleep, but unfortunately she has to sleep now.

She’s exhausted, frankly. Trying to figure out this whole... fucked up situation has been physically, emotionally, and mentally draining.

K thinks to herself as she falls asleep. She wonders if she couldn't have done something different, that maybe she didn’t do enough, and now it’s her fault Wren... did something. K only knows that Wren took over Cookie’s body. Somehow. It doesn’t make sense to her, and she’s been technically dead for over twenty years at this point.

The fox dreads sleeping tonight, but she does anyway, so she can at least figure this shit out quicker.

---

K should know by now that this dream will be anything but pleasant, but she can’t contain how happy she is to see Cookie, completely unharmed and seemingly having forgotten what happened.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” K whispers, holding the wolf tight.

“Why didn’t you save me?” A voice in her ear asks quietly.

“...What?”

“It’s your fault she hurt me,” The voice whispers, and it doesn’t sound like Cookie, but that’s the only person who it could belong to. “You hurt her, didn’t you? And then she hurt me because of how horrible you are.”

And her daughter- no, the illusion melts in her arms, the wolf’s face distorted, as laughter surrounds the fox.

---

And then K wakes up. She wakes up gasping for air that she doesn’t really need, tears already gathering in her eyes.

I don’t know how to fix this, She thinks, bringing her knees to her chest. I don’t know how to fucking fix this.

K doesn’t know what she’ll do if she can’t. Cookie’s basically the only thing she’s living for at this point, and even then, killing herself wouldn’t fix anything.

But gods, she really wants to fucking kill herself at this point. She has to fucking fix this. Somehow.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Four - Hunted Down / Too Exhausted to Keep Running

TWs: Misgendering, Deadnaming, and Transphobia

Contents: Usual disclaimer that they're all freaks and mature at different rates, I'm super fucking tired leave me alone

Characters are Varyll (Elf, Age 120, 5'10, albino, He/Xe pronouns), Rabies Ratbite (Kobold, Age 6, 2ft, gold eyes, blue and white scales, He/It pronouns), and Screecher (Kenku, Age 12, 5'1, purple eyes, pink legs and beak, pale grey and purple feathers, He/Him pronouns)

Also posted on Ao3!

Varyll is fucking exhausted.

Paranoia has kept xem awake for far too long. Xe hasn’t really had much time to rest, and any of that downtime has been spent away from civilization.

So when xe makes it to a tavern in a city xe can’t be bothered to remember the name of, xe’s on the verge of passing out from sheer exhaustion.

Varyll knows xe can’t trust anyone, not now, not ever. But xe also knows xe can’t stay awake forever, as much as xe’d like to.

Xe’d normally use a spell to disguise xyr form, but xe’s too tired, so xe sticks with simply hiding xyr face with a mask and a hood. It’s simple, but effective.

Xe watches two armored soldiers enter the tavern, and xe can tell that they’re looking for xem. They look like soldiers from xyr kingdom, so xe listens closely as they begin to speak to the entire fucking tavern.

“We are soldiers from the kingdom of Askalia, we’re looking for Princess Viola, though she may not be using that name. She is an albino elf, so she should be easy to find. If you have any leads, please let us know.”

Whispers erupt around the tavern, and Varyll barely keeps xemself from flinching at the use of xyr deadname. Xe adjusts xyr mask and pulls xyr hood further down, trying to hide xyr appearance.

Varyll overhears a conversation from two adventurers, both sitting at a table next to xem.

“You hear that? A fuckin’ princess is missing,” A blue Kobold says, leaning back in its chair. “How in the Nine Hells do they lose royalty?”

A pale greyish-purple Kenku leans a little closer to his companion. “From what I’ve heard, she’s a runaway.”

The Kobold scoffs, taking a sip of a drink that it looks way too young to be drinking. “Who would run away from being one of the highest people in power? It just doesn’t make sense.”

Varyll has personally had enough of the gossip and gets up to leave, though xe wonders if xe even should. Those guards are sure to recognize xem if xe gets too close, but xe can’t stay here, the barkeep might rat xem out.

Regardless, xe is too tired to even think logically at this point, so xe leaves the tavern, shivering from the cold. Xe should be used to it by now, but xe isn’t.

Xe looks around, trying to scan xyr surroundings for any signs of those soldiers. When xe breathes a soft sigh of relief, someone grabs xyr wrist.

Xe freezes, not daring to turn. “Excuse me, do you have any leads on the whereabouts of Princess Viola?”

Varyll shakes xyr head. Xe turns, and the soldier holding xyr wrist doesn’t let go. “It seems you’re a liar, then.”

The other soldier grabs her sword, grabbing xyr other wrist. “You’re coming with us, Princess Viola.”

Varyll grunts, trying to pull away from the soldiers, but xe’s too tired, too weak. So, xe screams. Loudly.

As xe does, those two adventurers xe saw earlier exit the tavern, and the Kobold, who is no taller than two feet, draws a shortsword. “Hey! Let ‘em go!”

The Kenku draws a longsword, and while he doesn’t say anything, he delivers a threatening glare.

One of the soldiers points his sword at the two adventurers. “We are under the orders of King Curralcia to bring her back to Askalia. We ask that you... citizens... step back.”

They’re distracted. Varyll’s eyes glow ever-so-slightly as xe casts Sacred Flame on the female soldier. She stumbles backwards, and Varyll punches the other one in the nose, scrambling away from the soldiers and behind the adventurers, preparing xemself in case xe has to fight any more than xe already has.

The Kobold charges forwards with a “battle cry”, if you can even call it that. Honestly, it just sounds funny. It barely looks threatening, but it also starts beating one of the soldiers’ faces in with the hilt of its shortsword, so maybe it has some skill.

Meanwhile, the Kenku starts slashing at the other while Varyll watches, slightly dumbfounded. Why would these two save xem? Neither of them have a reason to, as far as xe knows.

When one of the soldiers stops burning, she lifts her companion and takes off, swearing under her breath. The two adventurers give each other a high five, smirks on both of their faces.

The Kobold turns to look at xem. “What did those two jackasses want with you, anyways?”

The Kenku stares for a moment, eyes widening in realization. “Are you...”

“Varyll,” Xe interrupts, rather curtly. “I don’t use that name anymore for a reason.”

The Kobold tilts its head, and the Kenku whispers something to it, which he has to crouch down to do. It’s almost comical.

A look of realization crosses the Kobold’s face. “Oh. Wait, so... you’re the princess?!”

The Elf rolls xyr eyes. “I’d correct you and say prince, but I have no desire to return home. They can’t make me go back.”

“But...” Varyll can almost hear the gears turning in its head. “Why would you leave?”

“Did you not hear them blatantly deadname and misgender me?” Xe asks, getting frustrated.

“Oh.”

The Kenku speaks before things can get even more awkward between the three. “I’m Screecher, and this is Rabies,” He explains, examining Varyll closely. “You... look like you need sleep.”

“Yes, I do,” Xe sighs, rubbing a hand over xyr tired face and ignoring their odd names.

Screecher grabs xyr hand gently, leading xem back to the tavern. “We rented a room! You and Rabies can sleep, and I’ll keep watch.”

“I suppose I’m in no position to argue,” Varyll sighs, letting him lead xem into the tavern and to a room upstairs.

Rabies plops down on a bed before xem, and Varyll takes off xyr hooded robe and mask. Xe lays down, and pretty much knocks out right after.

Maybe these two aren’t so bad.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober 2023 Day Twenty-Three - Begging

Contents: Basically just a canon rewrite/retelling of the end of the Skyrim Dark Brotherhood quest "The Cure for Madness" from the perspective of the funny jester man.

The Listener's identity is made ambiguous on purpose, and the ending can lead to either them killing or sparing Cicero.

Special thanks to the UESP (Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages) for providing the dialogue, I didn't want to open Skyrim just to get it lol

Characters are Cicero Skyrim and the Listener.

Also posted on Ao3!

“You caught me! I surrender!” Cicero lets out a wheezy laugh, pain in his clutched abdomen spiking as he does.

The Listener does not speak, staring down at the jester with an unreadable expression. “Oh, you prefer to listen, eh? Of course, of course! The Listener listens! A joke! A funny joke! I get it.”

An idea comes to Cicero’s head, and he figures it’s worth a shot. He doesn’t want to join his mother yet, not yet. “Then listen to this... don’t kill me. Let poor Cicero live! I attacked the strumpet Astrid, I did!” He wheezes out a cough. “And I’d do it again..! Anything for our mother!”

The Listener still doesn’t speak, but they don’t leave. They hold their weapon gripped in one hand. “Return to the pretender, tell her I’m dead! Tell her you strangled me with my own intestines!��� He laughs, pain lacing the edges of it. “But lie! Yes, lie! Lie, and let me live!”

“...Do what you will. Cicero has no fight left. In the end, Sithis will judge us both.” He closes his eyes and waits for the Listener’s choice.

[pixelated-whump]

@ailesswhumptober Day Twenty-Two - Alternate Prompt: Disowned by Family

TWs: Implied transphobia, gender dysphoria

Contents: Sakura just tells their backstory to their friends, I don't have much else to put here

Characters are Sakura (They/Them), Lilac (They/Them, No ref, Purple slime cat with red eyes), Ran (He/They, Ref), and Rusty (He/Byte)

Sakura and Rusty, old picture

Also posted on Ao3!

It’s not uncommon for Sakura’s group of... well, they aren’t really sure what to call their roommates. Regardless, it’s not uncommon for them all to gather around a fire late at night, usually when there’s no school the next day, to talk about whatever comes to mind. Tonight happens to be one of those nights.

It’s just Sakura, Ran, Rusty, and Lilac tonight, with Nami already asleep and Baseplate off somewhere (nobody really knows where it disappears to, it just does).

“Y’know...” Lilac starts, glancing over at Sakura. “You’ve never really told us where you came from.”

Before they can even think to respond, Ran butts in. “But, you don’t need to tell us if it makes you uncomfortable,” He says, shooting the slime a short glare.

Sakura shrugs, taking a sip from their water bottle. “I mean, if y’all are really curious, I don’t mind telling my story.”

Lilac nods eagerly, and Sakura begins telling their tale.

---

I never understood why my body never felt right. It started when my antlers started to grow in, when I was around seven or so.

I was a late bloomer, normally my kind would grow them much sooner. People thought I was a girl for the longest time, though my mother would always sternly correct them.

I don’t really know why she was so defensive about me being a boy. I don’t think I ever will.

Back to the point. When my antlers started to grow in, I felt... ashamed. Scared. Like something was wrong with me.

It wasn’t until they bloomed beautiful cherry blossoms that I started to not mind them. Mother said it was family heritage to have flowers bloom on your antlers. Apparently, cherry blossoms symbolize life and beauty, but I’ve also heard they represent death and violence.

I was conflicted when they shed for the first time. On one hand, a physical and metaphorical weight was lifted. On the other, I found my antlers beautiful.

When I was around thirteen, I found out what was wrong. It wasn’t me, it was... what I was born as.

I was born a man, and I didn’t want to be one. But I didn’t want to be a woman either, that didn’t feel right.

When I was fourteen, I realized there were more than just male and female. I started out using they/them pronouns online, and I was surprised to find out how euphoric it felt.

Mother was always so strict, I was terrified to tell her. But I did anyways, because I knew it wouldn’t be right to live a lie.

She was... not accepting. I don’t entirely remember what was said after I came out, and I don’t care to. I packed my things that night and left.

---

“And now I’m here,” Sakura concludes, taking another sip of water. “I changed my name and identity when I left, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Cheers to having no family,” They add sarcastically, a mirthless chuckle escaping them.

“Aren’t we your family now?” Rusty asks quietly. He hasn’t spoken the entire night, but there’s a small smile on their screen.

Staring up at the clear night sky, Sakura hums. “I never thought about it like that. Hm. I guess so.”

They can hear the grin in Ran’s voice when he speaks. “Cheers to an even cooler family than our last ones!”

The group bursts out into giggles, and Sakura thinks that maybe their new family isn’t so bad.