#atoyom

[oddsconvert]

Okay! So, I did this a while ago, some months back, and it did WONDERS to motivate me and gave me a goal to work towards! So I thought I'd try it again!

For every note/interaction on this post, I will write a line for my next chapter of ATOYOM. I will go until I either hit the quota or the chapter is finished! 💫

[oddsconvert]

Izaak 🤭

Characters crying in their sleep. Bonus points if it's a character who never shows emotion. They would rather die than show vulnerability.

Does whumper find them, and mock them for it? Or is it caretaker, checking up on a nightmare-riddled or feverish whumpee in concern only to find them asleep, curled up in bed with tears gently running down their face, soft whimpers escaping their throat?

[oddsconvert]

I LOVE Henley's "broken" fic!!

Now all I can think about is Henley having a little existential crisis. He realizes that he's completely alone in the world. Izaak tried to get rid of him, Ronan is bored with him, no one ever came to rescue him. He starts spiraling and eventually convinces himself that there is no one left that really cares about him😭

I live for Henley whump😈

THANK YOU, THANK YOUUU - IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) I had so much fun writing it!

(and also, this ask 🤌🤌🤌 you've inspired me AGAIN, SO TA-DA, MORE HENLEY WHUMP! 🙌)

-

cw:// pet whump, dehumanisation, broken/submissive whumpee, noncon drugging, whumper turned whumpee, physical & emotional abuse, power imbalance, whumpee desperate for Whumpee's affection (lemme know if I missed any!)

-

Henley sat curled up in his corner of the basement, arms hugging his knees tight to his pounding chest. Green-eyed jealousy burned behind his eyes as he watched Ronan cradle Izaak in his lap like an innocent newborn - brushing a tender hand over his flushed cheek, cooing down at him.

Even when drugged to the edge of oblivion just to keep him docile, Izaak still got to be adored, whilst Henley was left ignored.

It’s not fair.

Henley bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper, his fingernails already chewed down to the quick. Izaak didn’t even have to try. Henley had to grovel for scraps, beg for mercy, claw for the smallest hint of affection. Even when Izaak screamed and misbehaved, when he spat and bit back - he was still wanted.

No matter how hard Henley tried to be good. Tried to be quiet - made himself so small, seen and not heard, playing by every rule in Ronan’s book.

All he’d become was invisible. Was there any space left for him at all? Did the world even want him anymore?

Izaak had tried to get rid of him - tossed him aside like rotting fruit, too bruised to be worth keeping. And now Ronan had grown bored too. These days, he barely spared Henley a glance, unless it was to snap an order or kick him out of the way.

Desperate, needing something - anything - Henley crawled forward on shaking limbs and tried to nestle into Ronan’s leg, trying to feel the warmth of a touch that wasn’t cruel.

But before he could settle, Ronan snapped, smacking Henley down to the floor.

“Down! Bad boy, Henley!” Ronan roared with a sharpness that struck deeper than any whip. Henley cowered into himself, a whimper escaping his lips.

He dropped where he was, spine bowed, hands splayed against the cold stone floor. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Awaited further instruction…or reprimand.

“You wait your turn! Naughty mutt,” Ronan spat, returning his attention to his prized possession, stroking the hair away from Izaak's vacant face.

Henley froze where he was, shame curdling in his chest, and for a moment he swore he could feel the world collapsing in on him.

If he didn't have Ronan…he truly had no-one. Nothing. Nowhere. No name that meant anything to anyone. No face anyone’s missing. No place he could crawl back to, even if he were to crawl out of this hell.

Ronan was his last thread, and now that thread was fraying.

Henley wasn’t strong enough to fight. Not clever enough to escape. Not sweet enough to be loved anymore. He wasn’t Izaak, with his fire and his pretty little bruises that Ronan still cared to kiss.

If Ronan had left Henley to starve, fine. If he'd snapped his neck like a twig, fine. But this? Not even second-best, but just a fallback? A reserve? A hindrance? This slow unravelling; knowing he's unwanted and still being forced to stay - was somehow worse.

Henley didn’t belong anywhere. No-one wanted him. Not a soul cared about him. And if that’s the case… What's the point in surviving at all?

[darkthingshappen]

@oddsconvert I found Izaak.

just wanna see a hot and misunderstood villain, with a tragic backstory, cover in blood with a shock collar around his throat. bonus if he whimpers.

[oddsconvert]

I don’t know if you’ve been asked this yet but could we get a snippet of Ronan actually being nice to Izaak for once. Further down the line when he’s good pet. No pain or work around tricks to make him get into trouble. Like how he coddles Henley. I just want to see this boy not scared for two seconds lol.

Some broken Izaak, coming up! Having a little cuddle with his owner! 🥰🙈

CW: pet whump, whumper turned whumpee, intimate whumper, submissive whumpee, light reference to previous torture, begging.

---

Ronan’s gentle fingertips absent-mindedly danced across Izaak’s scalp, waltzing with his dark chocolate curls of hair. Not a flinch or a wince, nor a cringe or grimace came from Izaak. His usually sharp and observant eyes were soft and doe-like, slowly slipping shut as he melted into the tender touch. 

It pained Izaak to admit how taking this was easier. Much easier. Easier than all the kicking and screaming; hissing and scratching, the growling and barking that never got him anywhere other than in a world of pain. Through blood, sweat and tears, Izaak had lost to himself, his fight ripped from him. It was terrifying, almost exhilarating? It was exhausting. But most of all - it felt like sweet relief. In the surrender, Izaak found some twisted sense of peace. 

He purred, like a content kitten, and nestled further into Ronan’s lap. What a fall from grace, what a fucking embarrassment.  From the apex predator to a wounded beast, yearning and vying for comfort.

He couldn't sink any lower if he tried.

“Naw. Sleepy puppy. Should we get you to bed and all tucked in?” Ronan cooed down to his perfect little pet. As he reached across Izaak’s curled-up body for the remote to switch off the TV, Izaak squirmed and whined his dissent. He would bend over backwards to delay being dragged back down to that frigid basement, being chained like a beast, left alone with his thoughts, demons and the ghost of his past tethered to the opposite wall.

Izaak felt his heart plummet as he gazed up at Ronan, pleading with his glassy eyes. He desperately wanted to stay upstairs, safe and warm. Up there, he could believe in some warped sense of normality. Leave the horrors behind and pretend.

Despite how much it disgusted him, Izaak forcibly swallowed his final few crumbs of pride and nuzzled into Ronan’s belly. A calculated act of submission.

“Sir - please. I want to-”

Izaak caught himself there and the plea died on his lips. Pets didn’t have wants. Izaak shouldn’t ever want for a thing, his master gave him all he needed. If he wanted to keep Ronan sweet, he can’t risk silly fuck ups. He should blindly obey and be grateful for what he is afforded. Even if it’s scraps.

A weak sob choked in his throat, "Please...can we stay like this? I'll be so good-”

He was like a begging dog. His eyes wide and pleading, his head tilted to the side. If he had a tail, he’d wag it, too.

Ronan's fingers traced Izaak's sharp jawline, his touch lingering. A moment stretched between them, a silent battle of wills. Izaak's breath hitched, his heart pounding ten to the dozen in his chest. His collar suddenly felt suffocating, like it was two notches-too tight around his neck.

"Oh, aren't you darling, Izzy? You want to stay with me, hm? Curled up in my arms?"

His fingers delved beneath Izaak’s chin and scratched the sweet spot, the place where a dog would lean into the touch and kick his leg frantically in enjoyment. A low rumble escaped Izaak’s throat, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. He tilted his head up, offering himself to Ronan's hands.

“I have you wrapped around my little finger now, don’t I, pet?” Ronan chuckled.

“Yes, sir,” Izaak whispered, earnestly and shamefully.

“Don’t get me wrong, you were oh so fun when you were naughty. But I much prefer you like this. So desperate, so submissive. Such a needy little thing.”

Never in a million years would Izaak have thought it would come down to this. A shadow of his former self, a mere husk of the man he once was. The once proud and defiant spirit had been broken down, shattered into a billion pieces. Now, he was nothing more than a creature of habit, a slave to Ronan's whims.

"I knew you'd break for me, sooner or later."

Shame settled heavy in Izaak's empty belly. 

“And isn't it a sight for sore eyes! You're a delight. Such a good boy,” Ronan hummed, his voice laced with a hint of cruelty. His thumb stroked across Izaak's puffy cheeks, “So obedient. Don't you worry your pretty little head, we can cuddle all you want, pup.”

Izaak forced a wavering, teary smile to try to hide the turmoil within.

He craved the fire that used to rage fiercely within his core, long since snuffed out. Deep down, Izaak still felt the smallest flicker remained, a tiny ember waiting to reignite. Determination and defiance smouldered, ready to be rekindled.

Instead of fueling it, Izaak resigned to his cruel fate and rested his weary head on Ronan's thighs. "Thank you, master. You're too good to me."

---

Ronan tag list: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak tag list: @thewhumpywitch @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

[oddsconvert]

Izaak core.

[oddsconvert]

GASP! 😱😍

STOP IT RIGHT NOW! THIS IS AMAZING!!! MY LITTLE HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!!! KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING MANIACALLY!

ILOVEITILOVEILOVEIT - OH EVERYTHING - THE 'so fucking over it' EXPRESSION, HIS POSE, THE COLLAR AND LEAD, I LOVE HIS NAME BESIDE HIS HEAD TOO - THIS IS INCREDIBLE - THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU 😭💕

A little drawing of Izaak for @oddsconvert from her story, A Taste of Your Own Medicine!

I can’t express how much I love him. I want to see him broken and whimpering so bad!!! I hope you like the drawing :3

[oddsconvert]

Sideeyeing my fantasy play pretend AU, pirate ATOYOM AU, Vampire ATOYOM AU and my Shattered spinoff 🤣👀

DO IT!!! WRITE FANFICTION OF YOUR OWN STORY!!! MAKE CRACKSHIPS!! MAKE ALTERNATE UNIVERSES!!! WRITE OOC SMUT!!! DO IT!!!

[oddsconvert]

Soooo... does anyone fancy a new ATOYOM chapter later today/tonight? 👀✌️

[oddsconvert]

LOOKY AT THIS GLORIOUS ART OF IZAAK BY THE AMAZINGLY TALENTED @befuddled-calico-whump THAT THEY DID FOR MY BIRTHDAY LAST WEEK!!! 😱😍😭

I literally did a die when I saw it! I can't scream and thank you enough! ✨ It captures him and his essence so perfectly; the scowl, the scars and bruises, the shock collar (🤌🤌🤌), his long wavy hair and beard. Actual chefs kiss! I'm in love!

[oddsconvert]

Will we get to see Rowan drug Izaak? (I am so desperate to see docile clueless Izaak omg)

Yessum!!! Docile, spaced Izaak - my beloved <3 We'll definitely see it, Ronan's a big fan of drugging him and making him pleasant and needy ;)

[oddsconvert]

I hope this isn’t too big of a question but

I just read the recent chapter of ATOYOM, (loved it btw) and it got me thinking about how Ronan would transport the two, like would he just throw them in the trunk? Tie em up and pop em in the backseat? Would they be drugged or something?

So I wanted to ask, how would you have envisioned it?

I actually started writing exactly that for the opening of that chapter! buttttt it just got wayyy too lengthy and convoluted, and distracted from the main plotpoint so I snipped it, but maybe I'll come back to it in future!

Ronan has a van. I envisioned him tying, blindfolding and gagging Henley first and then leading him up out of the basement and into the back of the van. Henley would comply the whole way, and most likely just sit in the back of the van and wait as Ronan went back down to fetch Izaak.

Izaak would fight tooth and nail, of course. He'd either need a LOT of force (use of the shock collar, restrained to high heavens, physically overpowering him etc.), or he'd have to be drugged senseless to get him in the back of the van.

I have always pictured Izaak being, at least, fairly conscious. Ronan taking a sharp corner and Henley being sent flying into Izaak and Izaak furiously lashes tf out ahaha.

[oddsconvert]

I know I said ATOYOM would be out by the end of Jan (and DONT WORRY IT IS PRETTY MUCH READY!!!), but I've had one hell of a horrible week with work being horrific and making me cry three days straight, and illness -which is probably anxiety related too- and a chocka weekend so I just need a little extra time to finish it up and do da edits ♥️

Looking at the next week or so currently 💞

[oddsconvert]

My brain: make friends! Send asks! Exist in more then just your blog!

Me: but what if I'm scared of friends!?!?!

Anyway, can I request Ronan catching Issak hurting Henley?

Flowers for author. 💐💐💐💐💐

Friends!!! It's official! No being scared! <3 I am so sorry for the delay with this but I hope this ticks your boxes! :D

---

“How do you sleep at night?”

Henley stirred awake, his world a blurred mess of throbbing pain. Crusted sleep clung to his lashes, he blinked fiercely to chase away the haze. He could only just about make out a hulking silhouette looming over him. When his vision finally sharpened, he instinctively clutched his scratty blanket closer to his heaving chest - his futile shield.

Cold dread flooded Henley as he saw Izaak, free of the chains that usually rattled with every twitch of a muscle. The chains that kept Henley safe and sound, out of harm's way. Far from Izaak’s reach.  Izaak's fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white, his face contorted in a feral snarl. Panic squeezed Henley’s chest like a vice. He was a rabbit trapped in a fox's den. 

“Wha-?” Henley’s voice was a hoarse rasp. He’s half-convinced no sound left his lips at all. 

"Oh, did I interrupt your sweet dreams, Henny?" Izaak's voice was a low growl, sending shivers trickling down Henley's spine. That nickname. The way it dripped with mocking familiarity, but years of ingrained fear hid within it. It made all the hairs on Henley’s arms stand on edge. 

Izaak suddenly lunged forward. One massive hand clamped around Henley's throat, squeezing every last drop of air from his lungs. Henley's wrists burned in protest against his chains, straining as he fought for a sliver of slack, a desperate inch to reach his throat and fight Izaak off. "You," Izaak spat, barely containing his rage, "are the reason for my suffering. The cause of my anguish. Every scar on my body has your name written on it.."

Tears pressed from beneath Henley’s eyelids, and he shook his head furiously. Passionately. No. It’s not true. He’s not responsible for this. He didn’t land them here, he didn’t start all of this. This is all Izaak’s doing. This is the price he has to pay. 

“So answer the question,” Izaak demanded, now nearly crushing Henley’s windpipe as he choked and wheezed, “How the hell do you sleep at night? No. Scratch that shit. Better yet. How do you live with yourself? After what you’ve done to me?”

“I-Izaak, pleas-”

Izaak’s fist came at Henley with such speed it was like a cannonball. It connected with a sickening crunch as Henley felt his nose cave in, and hot-white pain erupted. The force of the blow sent him sprawling, the floor rose up to meet him with a jarring thud. He lay helpless. Cool blood dripped from his nose and pooled on his lips, he could taste the metallic tang. 

“You dare call me that again, and I’ll put you six feet under this fucking cement. Understand?” Izaak seethed through gritted teeth, with spit spraying and a vein pulsing from his temple. Izaak didn’t even give him the second to respond, Henley was still reeling and seeing stars. “I SAID, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he roared. 

“Yes!” Henley wailed miserably. Tears mingled with blood and dirt. He sniffed pathetically and whimpered as new pain flared through his obviously broken nose. He stayed glued to the floor. Too afraid to move, to even dare lift his head up. Henley didn’t see Izaak reaching for his long curls of hair and wrenching them in his fist. Yanking his head back, Henley’s Adam's apple bobbed against his collar as he gasped and gulped back the fear.

“‘Yes’, what?” Izaak whispered. It was hard to miss the element of enjoyment in his voice. It sounded like old times. Must feel like it to him too. 

But Henley immediately knew what he was looking for.

“Yes, sir!” Henley gasped out. There’s not a beat of hesitation. Izaak can say many things about Henley. A bad pet, he is not. 

Henley’s head smacked to the ground, his forehead banging against cold, unforgiving cement as Izaak threw him out of his hand. He’s on a warpath. He paced back and forth, contemplating what to do next. 

Izaak's foot then swung into Henley's gut. The air whooshed from Henley's lungs in a strangled scream that ripped free from his throat. The world lurched sideways, a wave of nausea crashing over him. Bile rose in his throat as pain lanced through his abdomen. Izaak unrolled Henley from his cocoon and straddled his hips, slamming his palm over Henley’s mouth, “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Henley obeyed. He forced himself to seal his lips, now sobbing silently and huffing through the pain. 

“You got us into this fucking mess. You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you. I’m going to make you wish you were never born-”

“I already do-” Henley croaked.

Izaak doesn’t hold back anymore. He unleashed a flurry of punches, raining blow after blow down on Henley. Henley’s already-battered body convulsed with each hit - he twisted and flailed in a desperate bid to shield himself from the onslaught. It was no use. Darkness cornered his vision, and ringing screeched in his ears. His entire body was slowly growing limp.

Henley squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. He waited for the next punch. And waited. But it never came. Confused, Henley cracked open a swollen and purpling eye.

Izaak was no longer looking at him, and a flicker of raw terror replaced the unhinged rage that had plagued his eyes before. Henley groaned as he lifted his pounding head, and turned to follow Izaak’s petrified stare.

A shadow shifted at the top of the stairs, a tutting sound emanating from the darkness.

“What are you doing to my boy?” Ronan asked, cool as a cucumber on the surface, but fury bubbled below. The calm facade didn’t last. Ronan flew down the stairs, and pulled that oh so familiar remote from his pocket. In the blink of an eye, Izaak was a quivering, jittering wreck as his shock collar lit up and shocked him stiff. He collapsed from Henley’s body like a tonne of bricks. His screams pierced the sound barrier - his fingers scrabbled and ripped at the collar, kicking his legs and bucking his entire body. Ronan punched the button again, and again until the screaming stopped. It’s just silent gargles, with drool dribbling down the edge of Izaak’s blue lips. 

Ronan threw Henley a single, and quick look as he bolted past. It wasn't a look of reassurance, but a quick flicker up and down to acknowledge him. Reaching his locked cabinet, Ronan fumbled with the combination and finally, the cabinet swung open, and he snatched a vial and syringe, and a length of rope.

He wastes no time in racing over to where Izaak is heaving and panting on the floor, and stabbing the syringe in his neck. Izaak roared, a sound that curdled the blood, but it was cut short by a weak gasp as the muscle relaxant began to take hold.

“There, there. That should settle you down, big-un,” Ronan chuckled, patting Izaak on the chest.

“F-ffuc- fuckk y-yoou,” Izaak slurred, his eyes rolled like pinball machines in their sockets. Henley watches as all the tone in Izaak’s muscle depleted and he flopped lifelessly. Izaak lay sprawled on the floor, a pathetic mew escaping his lips as the muscle relaxant coursed through his veins. His previously violent thrashing had dissolved into a pathetic trembling, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Henley's cry echoed through the basement. Now that the threat was neutralised. "You didn't tie him tight enough, sir! He almost—!" His voice choked on the rising panic, his gaze locked on Izaak's slack form. “He was going to kill me.”

Ronan paid no mind to Henley, the shivering wreck that he was. Instead, he focused on yanking Izaak’s arms behind his back. With rough rope, he bound Izaak's wrists together with a vengeance, the knots pulled tight, drawing a choked gasp that did little to faze Ronan. Next, he secured Izaak's ankles with another length of rope, the slack yanked out until Izaak's legs were splayed uncomfortably wide. Finally, with a cruel twist, Ronan bound Izaak's ankles to his secured wrists, hog-tying him in a position that screamed discomfort. Izaak's gasps faded to choked moans as his body contorted in a way it wasn't meant to, forced into an arched bow.

Ronan left Izaak on the ground and approached Henley slowly. With a touch that could have been gentle or cruel, he cupped Henley's bruised and bloodied cheek. Henley flinched at the contact, a hiss escaping his lips. Ronan’s eyes flickered over the damage and he tsked, disappointed. Then his eyes met Henley’s and locked in. “Do you really think I’d let him break one of my favourite toys?”

“He - He got pretty close, master.” Henley snivelled. He flinched as Ronan’s arms moved, expecting another blow, but instead, his arms wrapped around Henley’s tiny frame in a sudden and suffocating embrace. Ronan’s grip was tight, possessive, leaving no wiggle room. Defeated, Henley sagged into the hug and rested his head on Ronan’s chest, letting his eyes flutter shut. It was always easier to give into this than brave the pain. Ronan began to stroke Henley’s hair, twirling it in his fingers. It wasn’t a gesture of genuine affection and Henley was never under the impression that it was. It was Ronan’s sense of ownership. Like Izaak’s claim was the bruises and scars. Ronan’s was more inside than out. For Henley, at least.

“Shh Shh. Come with me. I’ll get you patched up, little one”. Grunting with effort, Ronan hoisted Henley to his feet, a hand wrapped under his armpit to guide him up the creaking stairs.

Ronan turned at the very last step, leering at the sight of Izaak, bound and subdued. "That little temper tantrum of yours was cute, pet" he called down, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But playtime's over. Now, you get to lie there, nice and quiet, and contemplate all the fun things I have planned for you when your little cocktail wears off. I want you to feel every second.”

----

Taglists!:

Henley taglist: @livelaughwhump @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth

Ronan taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak taglist: @emmettland @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

Drabble taglist (which I forgot existed and have recently rediscovered assdfghjkl so will be using from now on unless you would like off it <3 ): @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen @whumping-in-the-dark @vagabouund @turn-the-tables-on-them

[oddsconvert]

What if Ronan got ahold of Felix n had break him as pet?

I've actually thought about this before, and totally considered doing a silly little AU of it ahaha. Felix would be a mix between an absolute drama queen/wuss (he can give it but he can't take it lololol) and then the other half would be like Izaak...he'd be spiteful and aggressive and lash out where he could.

Felix is quite physically fit and strong. He'd be quite well matched with Ronan...it would be a show for sure. I also think he'd be whining about Josh also (assuming Josh isn't ALSO captive alongside him), he'd be whinging that Josh needs him! Josh can't cope without him, he needs to get back to his lover!!!!

[oddsconvert]

In other news, I made some really good progress with the next chapter of ATOYOM today! 🥳 I'm quite proud!