#bitter whumpee

[whump-in-the-closet]

“I have your friends”

- Laughing in whumper’s face, “man i’m sorry for you.” Confident in the destruction their friends are about to bring down on whumper.

-Clenching the phone with a white-knuckled grip. “What do you want?” ready to sacrifice themself, ready to beg and plead. This isn’t their friends’ battle, this is theirs.

-Surprised, with a fearful exhale. They lean forward though they try to hide any expression. They fold their hands together on the table in a facade of control. “We can deal with this like goddamn adults, right?” Right?

- Eyes widening. “Oh. God” Already choking on a freeze response, stammering and frantic. They know what whumper is capable of and it immobilizes them. “P-please. Don’t hurt them.”

-They lunge forward, a hand wrapped around whumper’s pristine white collar. “You what?” Their fury is visible, spat out with the words— seething in their eyes. They’ve been kicked while down one too many times and learned to bite back.

- They stare. Nonchalant. “What friends?” There’s even the tiniest of smiles on their face, curving upwards. “Oh, them? Yeah, I don’t care.” Whatever whumper did to them doesn’t even compare to how their teammates treated them after. If anything, they’ll offer to help <2

[inky-here]

cw: post-possession whump, character conflict, dialogue, threats

"C, I didn't mean-- I wasn't myself, please, just hear me out," A urged, but C turned to them with a stone cold stare.

"stop talking to me before I jam this through your throat," C stood up, taking a step towards A while holding up the tool they were currently working with, aiming it closely at A's chin.

"there won't be none of that unless you go through me, first," B lightly pushed C back and stood between the two, spreading their arms in a protective manner.

"well, I'll be damned," C scoffed, "that's a nice two-for-one."

[loonybun]

ok screw it oc introduction be upon ye

hi guys this is Rosé!!! I do have an in depth thing regarding his relationship with Adonis (another character of mine) and his whole transformation on my other blog so if you’d like to read that in more detail it’s right here.

CONTAINS: Cults/religion/sacrilege (evangelical nature), religious trauma and guilt, shunning, old timey homophobia and religion-based intersexphobia, historic stuff and some fun facts about the 1920’s, verbal abuse, manipulation, coercion, power dynamic (god and mortal), a really shitty partner and a shitter relationship, body horror, chronic illness, attempted suicide (multiple times multiple methods including overdose), rot and decay of the body, and love potions but for all the wrong reasons.

Rosé, formerly known as Roe Labat, was born in 1898 and raised in an evangelical cult. Ironically enough this has actually nothing to do with the wings and whatnot. That’ll come later. Being both intersex and albino, he was never truly accepted by the people around him. Some were kinder than others, sure, but it was all out of pity. In their eyes, he was already damned to an eternity in hell for the simple sin of existing.

He was a very docile and quiet child, rarely ever stepping out of line regardless of circumstances. He lived inside of the church, as his parents didn’t want responsibility of him. From an early age Roe understood that he was not something worthy of love, as even God had forsaken him. He was cared for out of obligation rather than actual genuine love, having religion almost constantly drilled into him.

When he was 18 (1916), he ran away from the cult’s village. He figured that he’d never make anything out of himself within it, and never be able to prove himself. Roe was also sick of being a burden. He had never been able to make friends due to the constant ostracism, and even though the people he was around changed to be a lot more open-minded, this remained a constant throughout his life. He started living in New Orleans and often frequented various parades and bars. Also he learned that he was queer and that messed him up for a bit. Despite being forsaken, he still tried his best to be a good follower given his circumstances, but the more he learned about the world around him, the looser his faith became.

Roe took an eventual interest in the “pansy performers” (drag queens in the 1920’s), though felt a lot of guilt and shame regarding considering the concept as a career. The more he thought about it though, he realized he didn’t have much else to lose.

He was a natural performer, able to say and do just the right things in just the right ways to provoke a positive reaction from the audience. Considering the more niche community at the time, he never really drew in big crowds, but what he had was enough for him to live off of in a nice 3 room apartment. He was able to afford relatively nice clothes for his performances when they weren’t provided, and quickly became skilled at makeup and wig styling. He also began dying his hair (yes hair dye was a thing in the 1920’s) and using mascara and heavier makeup in order to conceal his albinism, just because it drew some unwanted attention here and there. While he rarely encountered any trouble with the law, he had a few close calls given what he was doing was pretty illegal at the time. homophobia am i right…

Around when he was 24-25, he met “Don”, who claimed to be a cab driver, yet was almost always dressed to the nines in stylish and at times anachronistic clothing. They hit it off very quickly, relating over the strange feeling of being isolated from their peers. They started going out together soon after. It was Roe’s first real relationship, especially with another man, so to say he was a bit nervous would be putting it lightly. Regardless, Don was always very kind to him and patient with him. He was a bit suspicious of Don though since he was always very dodgy about his home life and really any personal details, however he just assumed they came from similar situations. Roe did theorize where his money was coming from and thought him to either be a bootlegger or a member of the mafia, though he never brought it up because in full honesty he didn’t care too much. He was already head over heels and a little illegal activity wouldn’t stop that.

The last thing he was expecting was Don— or rather, Adonis, to claim he was actually a god. And really really wasn’t supposed to be talking with Roe but just couldn’t help himself. Roe was shocked to say the least, and a little incredulous, but Adonis was very quickly able to prove he was telling the truth. Roe, despite having his entire worldview and years of his life shattered by this one man, decided to try and make things work between them. And it did, for a while. The gaps in Adonis’s visits made more sense now, since he couldn’t be away for too long without the other gods getting suspicious. And it was nice to not have secrets. Roe was able to open up to him about his childhood as well, and Adonis provided sympathy for him.

But good things can’t last forever. As time passed, their relationship grew progressively worse. Adonis got upset over increasingly small things, and while Roe understood his perspective and tried to accommodate him, it didn’t mean he was exactly pleased about it. Adonis began to grow concerned over the prospect of something happening to Roe. After all, he was mortal. Frail. Weak.

His solution to this? Well, get rid of the mortality. Roe wasn’t exactly on board with the idea, considering he quite enjoyed being able to perform and live in the city, and accepting Adonis’s offer would make that nearly impossible. Adonis was persistent though, bringing up the idea at any time despite how many times Roe tried to gently shoot it down. Roe eventually grew tired of this cycle and hesitantly accepted. Adonis claimed that this would make things easier— They could see each other more often, they wouldn’t have to hide, the chances of his whole relationship with a mortal being found out by the one person who could end his existence from breaking the rules moved close to 0, no real drawbacks! for him.

this is where the stuff in the post i mentioned earlier comes in. if you’ve already read it, yeah it gets bad. if you haven’t, here’s the brief explanation.

given the fact that mortal bodies aren’t exactly capable of handling literal godly essence, Roe’s body began to decay and break down. At first, it mimicked some sort of disease. His skin became dry and flaky, and his body felt oddly hot and uncomfortable. Painful sensations overtook his body and became almost constant. By the time things started melting and his organs began to fail, he already knew it was too late to reverse any of this. Any hope of continuing his career or life normally vanished completely. Adonis, however, was very happy about this new development! It had worked! yippee! so so much fun. Of course, he obviously remained as sympathetic towards Roe as possible, regardless of any underlying excitement.

Roe became agitated and frustrated because of the amount of pain he was in and how much he had lost. He wasn’t able to leave the house anymore. He began to snap and lash out at Adonis, picking a fight or making a snide remark whenever possible. Adonis hadn’t exactly seen this coming, but he still kept trying to de-escalate things, often in the form of telling Roe that he was acting unreasonable or hysterical (smart move!). Despite all of this, they stayed in their relationship. Roe was too terrified to be alone, knowing that whatever was happening to him would completely destroy any semblance of respect people had for him, and Don because he wanted to see it through.

Their fights got worse until Adonis finally snapped back, calling Roe an “ungrateful cunt” for not appreciating the love and support he’d oh so generously provided. He made it clear to Roe that nobody would recognize him as human anymore. Nobody would love or care about him. He’d be a freak to anyone other than him, so he’d better stop complaining or he’d lose him too.

This got through to Roe, and he stopped shouting. In fact, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. It hurt too much to speak, to move, to breathe. Every step was agony. His body had contorted beyond recognition. Was it even worth it to continue like this? Would this be what the rest of his existence was like? Did he really want to live if it meant being in constant, unbearable agony?

Even if the answer was no, he hardly had much of a choice. He tried more humane methods at first. Overdose, drowning in the bathtub, smashing his head against the wall— Nothing worked. He was still alive. He was still alive. Why was he still alive? Was he alive? Was this what it meant to live?

He got more desperate. Stabbing at his stomach, burning his flesh, only it would only leave little splotchy marks that quickly faded. Or so he thought.

The area around the wound he’d made on his stomach began to rot, eating away at any organs or skin or muscle in its path. Eventually, his entire torso from the bottom of his spine to the top of his pelvis was gone save for his spine and a few bits of spare viscera.

When Adonis returned, he wasn’t happy to see what Roe had tried to do. He became incredibly upset with him for trying to leave the relationship in the only way he possibly could. Still, as long as Roe promised to stop, he’d forgive him. Roe obliged.

The fact that Roe wouldn’t talk to him became a source of frustration for Adonis. It felt intentional, spiteful. And it hurt. Every single question was met with a dulled response, as if he barely heard him. As if he hardly cared. It became a bit like spending time with a rock when he stopped responding all together. No matter what Adonis tried, he couldn’t seem to get Roe to react. It was at that point he realized that both physically and mentally, the person he’d fallen for was gone. Far, far deep down, he knew it was his fault. But still, there was hardly any point in staying. Roe would probably rot there forever, and what good would it do to watch over that?

And so he left. Roe realized that it was permanent maybe only a week or so later. Initially, he blamed himself. If he had put in a little more effort, he could have tried to respond, but the pain was too much to bear… The pain— The pain that had begun to fade now. Maybe a month after Adonis left, Roe began to regain his mobility, his strength, and while he was still in pain, it was no longer unbearable. It seemed more like a dull nagging now. The fog that the loneliness and agony had inflicted upon him began to lift as well, and all of that guilt quickly shifted and simmered into pure hatred.

Hatred that the new immortal would begin to inflict upon the world and the ones surrounding it. That would continue to build for years with only the set goal of revenge against the man that had wronged him. And while it cooled over time into a tepid resentment, it never truly faded. He was able to continue with life, though hardly on the same plane, confining himself to a dimension that only certain desperate souls could access. Souls desperate to save their relationships, souls desperate to have their so-called beloveds fall for them, wretched, vile souls. And he’d help them regardless. After all, what’s a worse offense to a love god than bastardizing the craft? Who cares if a few… Hundred lives get ruined? It’s fun to watch. It’s not his turn to suffer anymore. And he won’t be made a victim again.

ANYWAYS more extra info i DONT think i put on the other post but dont rlly wanna check:

Adonis is the god of Lust, Beauty, and Vanity

Roe took on his stage name Rosé after his transformation to distance himself from his past

Rosé has been collecting magic. For what purpose? Let’s not worry about that.

Rosé has the abilities to siphon magic and the life force from people. He doesn’t do this often unless something catches his eye that he wants to harness. It does mean he’s incredibly powerful though.

Rosé’s main abilities he gained directly from Adonis’s essence or whatever include being able to alter the emotions of others (he can force people to think certain ways and even do certain things), pocket dimension stuff, and object conjuring.

Rosé has a lot of side hobbies but his favorite is cooking. He really likes savory dishes, but he also likes sweet things.

Rosé is able to travel between different dimensions and such, and only exists as a “god” in (this) one.

Rosé has built up a reputation among a lot of magical creatures. None of them are quite sure what he is or how he seems to defy certain laws of existence but most see him as a relatively trustworthy supplier for love potions.

Every so often Rosé gets bored and chooses to single people out to mess with. Maybe he should stop doing that.

Rosé is VERY prone to breakdowns, and while he’s mostly able to stay professional, if someone’s around him for a prolonged period of time and something causes him to spiral he regresses into an incredibly different and much more desperate person.

Rosé (name aside) considers himself a liquor connoisseur (RED FLA) and does collect rare alcohols. he does have a tendency to drink heavily but considering his body can’t really process food or drinks it sort of just magically disappears. he is a talkative and very mopey drunk though. like will start full on venting about his life story.

He’s friends with Aisling!!! Friends is a very strong word!!!! Maybe the wrong word!!! But they they hang out sometimes and Aisling seems to enjoy his company a lot even if he can’t really understand why he keeps coming back if not out of fear or trying to use him so he keeps his distance. Aisling is honestly just worried about him and has sort of been able to slowly break down that Rosé maybe isn’t as absolutely terrifying as he first thought and is indeed just very. very lonely and maybe even a bit pathetic

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 33 - Home

Author's note: We're almost to the end. The next chapter will be the epilogue. I have so many feels. It will feel good to finish writing a story.

Masterlist - Part 32

Content: Vampire whumpee, vaguely referenced sexual abuse, emotional angst, lost time

........................................

Hyrum ran ahead of the group through the trees, still in that huge wolfdog form, barking and howling with excitement, tail wagging behind himself as he bounded over streams and logs. Ephraim, who had Benny’s arm over his shoulder, felt his energy coming back just watching the pup enjoy the sun streaming through the leaves. 

Kortops and Halia walked, arms linked, deft flaps of their wings getting them over obstructions. 

Benny had been very quiet since waking up and Ephraim assumed he needed some time to think while he healed from the fight they had. Ephraim didn't mind. He needed time to think as well. 

Besides, it was wonderful to look at the normal plantlife, hearing the soft sounds of birds and water, no mists to obscure their vision. It looked like time had moved strangely while they were in the fae realm. That was to be expected. It was well into summer, now, when it had been autumn when he left. He hoped everyone was okay. He hoped that Margaret was still alive. 

“How long has it been?” Benny asked softly, apparently having a similar thought process. 

“About 53 years if it’s July now,” Ephraim said, and Benny’s head hung a little lower. “It’s not your fault.”

“Feels like it,” he whispered. “If I had been a little stronger. I knew what was happening was wrong. I didn’t even like being her husband, but-”

“You were charmed,” Ephraim said firmly. “And now we can move on. We’re home. You’re home.”

Benny lifted his head, and Ephraim felt sick to his stomach seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Ephraim, I don’t think I belong here anymore. I’m…. I’ve been….”

Ephraim could see the words that wouldn’t come out. Defiled, disgusting, corrupted, sickened, a completely different man lost in a familiar world.

Ephraim sighed. “Benny, do you remember what I told you after you’d recovered from being turned?”

Benny frowned, trying to remember, but his charm-addled mind had caused the memory to completely leave him. His shoulders hitched with a sob as he shook his head. 

“That’s okay. I want to tell you,” Ephraim said warmly, trying to keep any worry out of his voice, rubbing his thumb over Benny’s neck. “We live for a very long time, Benny, if everything goes well for us. That gives us a lot of time to change. We are never going to be the same person as we were a decade ago, okay? And that’s okay. It takes a lot of bravery to face that, to try and keep up with the ever changing world and with the change within ourselves. We will live to see horrors beyond anything most mortals can comprehend, and we have to learn how to handle it, okay? I am so sorry it happened so early. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from being taken that day, but we have to take this in stride and we have to keep going.”

Benny was silent for a long moment and Ephraim took another breath. “You know that I was a gladiator once. A long time ago.”

Benny nodded. He felt more awake, especially at the mention of the part of Ephraim’s life that the older vampire quite often refused to talk about. It was still hard to imagine Ephraim as a gladiator. Maybe that was just because Benny had seen him plant too many sunflowers. 

“I didn’t want to be a gladiator,” Ephraim sighed. “I had been captured for being a vampire and sold around until I ended up in a gladiator ring. I was trapped there for years, Benny. Fighting and killing just so I could have a meal once every few days. I was sick, but still stronger than the humans they kept sending in to fight me, trying to slay me like some monster…. It took me a long time after I’d won my freedom to figure myself out. I couldn’t make friends for a long time, I acted like the monster they’d trained me to be, and I didn’t even have a safe place to sleep. I know how you feel, and you have to remember that you are the only one in charge of your emotions and actions. You have to take your life into your hands and make it what you will.”

“But I don’t know what-”

“You don’t have to right now. And I’ll let you in on a secret. You never will. You just have to decide what you like from life, what you think it would be fun to be, and go for it.”

Benny thought about that for a moment. That seemed easier said than done, and he didn’t like how lost it still made him feel, but Ephraim was right, Ephraim was almost always right. He’d been around long enough to know things like this. 

“Thank you. For the advice and for….. Getting me out of there.”

“Not sure how much help I actually was for that,” Ephraim said with a chuckle. “There’s the cottage.”

Benny looked up and his knees nearly gave out, seeing the beautiful cottage, the garden fairly well tended. It seemed Ephraim had been away for a while but someone had taken the time to put the garden in order. 

He saw Hyrum run into the garden, sniffing at everything, stopping to roll in the grass before getting up and dashing into the house, turning into a human on the way in through the door. 

Benny could hear voices inside and soon enough Hyrum came back out, wrapped in a blanket. It seemed that his clothing got shredded when he took his large wolf form. 

“Eef! Margaret is here!”

Benny perked up, gathering his energy to let go of Ephraim, walking on his own as a man who smelled like herbs and teas stepped out, surprised. Benny felt a pang of sadness, realizing this man was old enough to have kids, but he couldn’t have been alive when Benny left. He would only know the old members of the village. 

He pushed that thought inside. He needed to see Margaret. 

He stumbled up, past the garden, past the two fae who stopped to look at the flowers, giggling to one another, past the pup and to the cottage stoop, leaning hard on the railing. 

He faintly heard Ephraim commenting on everything new as the man stepped aside, surprised. 

Benny stepped up onto the stoop, which hadn’t been there before, and through the door. 

He looked around so quickly, it made him dizzy. Finally, he spotted a wizened old woman on the couch, only the faintest traces of who she had been marked on her face. 

“Margie?” he whispered, looking at who was once his younger sister. Younger? Really? How could he possibly be older!?

She looked up from the medicine pouches she was assembling with a deep frown, only for her eyes to dull with confusion when she looked at him. 

“Who…. no…. Benny?”

Benny nodded with a sob, stepping across to the couch where he sat down heavily, wrapping his arms around his sister, kissing the thinning grey hairs on the top of her head. 

She grabbed his arm with a gnarled claw, grunting as she weakly pushed him off. 

She looked him over more critically. “In the name of Lady Death, Benjamin Ashmaker. What are you wearing?”

He looked down at the tight leathers, split and torn in places from his fight and smelling of werewolf slobber. “I…. I’m not sure, anymore. I’ll change as soon as I can.”

Ephraim stepped through the front door, a tired little smile on his face and Margie looked angry at him more than anything. “There’s the slacker. Where in the world have you been, then? Something to do with Benny here?”

“Yeah. That Sorcerer, Jack, he kidnapped Hyrum and we ended up in the fae realm. Your brother’s been playing spouse to the Queen all this time. Good thing he did, too, or he would have been killed.”

Ephraim came to kneel on the floor, taking Margie’s spotted hands. Benny swallowed hard against tears that tried to rise up when he saw that. She was so…. Old. Lady Death was standing behind her, practically. Ephraim had warned him about this part of being a vampire, and he had been ready to handle it when he thought he would be able to spend all of these years watching these people, his sister, grow old. But no. He’d been taken, gone for what felt like 16 years and came back to find his sister about to return home to the great beyond. 

There wasn't enough time.

Margie turned her eyes back to Benjamin, hardened with time and grief, but still the same woman who always called him foolish and a ‘man who attracts trouble like seeds attract birds.’ And despite the pain he saw there, he was glad to see her eyes and mind were clear. “Benny…. I have an apology to make to you and to Ephraim. I had thought you dead. I had lost hope. I am sorry. I should have believed…..”

Ephraim put a hand on her knee. “Don’t you worry, Margie. Hope is painful, and I hoped enough for the both of us.”

“If it helps at all,” Benny said, almost in a whisper, “I… I didn’t feel abandoned.”

“PSHAW! Probably because you were charmed out of your mind!” she said in a high croaking voice. “Foolish man! Trouble maker, that you are. Spouse of the Queen, indeed. Foolish. So very foolish!”

Tears were spilling from her eyes, following the creases and wrinkles as she slowly leaned forward, bones popping and creaking as she wrapped her arms around Benny. 

Benny buried his face in her shoulder, the tears and sobs fully escaping. He didn’t want to mourn the lost time. He needed to focus on the time he had now with his sister, with his mentor. But it just wasn’t fair. He’d lost so much time, so much blood and memory, so much innocence, so much of himself, and for what!? For what!?

He felt Ephraim rub his back as he cried. Ephraim understood. He always seemed to understand. It was a small comfort in the abyss of grief and confusion Benny found himself in. 

And maybe it would be enough. He wasn’t alone. Not anymore. And he still had time with Margie. He was so very lucky to have been found before she… before-

The man he’d passed at the door cleared his throat. “So, ah, are those fae out in the garden with Hyrum?”

Ephraim started. “Oh, yes. I’ll need to explain that. You two catch up, alright? I’ll come bug you later, Margie. Looks like there’s no rest for the wicked.”

“I should hope not,” Margie huffed. “Making us all worry all winter and spring. You have a lot to answer for.”

Ephraim left with a laugh and a wave, and the door closed on Benny and Margie, years apart and yet still as close as the day Benny was taken to the fae realms. 

Epilogue

Hey you! Yes you! I want to have a sort of askathon about this story once this is done. Have questions about this story? Meta or clarifications on cannon? Please send them so I can answer some as a celebration of finishing this series. Thank you so so much for reading this series, and I hope you will enjoy the epilogue. If you are reading this way after the series is over, still feel free to send in asks. It is good for a writer to remember the stories they have created, even if they are over. <3

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps @hellodecisionparalysis @scatteriskity

[whumperofworlds]

A Whumper who was once a Whumpee. They were seriously hurt by one person, or a group of people, and they wanted revenge.

So they kidnapped Whumpee/the team, and tortured them, all the while reminding them of why they were doing all that to them:

"You hurt me deeply. You're getting what's coming!"

[chiharuuu22]

During the healing process, Whumpee needed many things, both for physical and mental healing. What are they?

Rest. Of course. There is no need to explain anymore. A good rest would restore Whumpee's body and mind after all his stress and suffering.

Calmness. From the environment and the people around Whumpee. Apart from the hospital, an isolation house far from the hustle and bustle of the chaotic city would be a good place to support Whumpee's recovery. Maybe a Caretaker's house would be better.

Medical. Medication is consumed to support healing (antibiotics, vitamins, painkillers, etc.). Medical equipment was used during the treatment and healing period. Professional medical personnel will care for Whumpee until he is completely healed.

Foods high in nutrition. Of course, it's easy to digest. Healthy food usually doesn't taste good, but it's the Caretaker's job to make the food able to whet Whumpee's appetite.

Water. There is no need to ask. Hydration is very important for Whumpee's body as it recovers.

Snack. Taking medicine every day definitely makes Whumpee bored. A little snack will help. The cookies, candy, or chocolate that Whumpee eats after swallowing the bitter medicine will make him smile.

Fresh air and morning sunshine. Many people say that fresh air and morning sunlight are also good medicine for recovery. Taking a breath and basking in the cool of the morning would be great for Whumpee.

Clean clothes. Replace every two times a day.

Bathe. Bathing in the morning and evening makes the body fresh and clean. Maybe at first, Caretaker won't immediately pour water but will wipe Whumpee's body with soapy water.

Straighten hair. Maybe cut it when Whumpee starts to get better. Apart from making it look fresher, Whumpee will also feel comfortable.

Comfort items. Plusies, stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, photos, scent, or anything else that can keep Whumpee calm and comfortable during the recovery period.

A change of scenery during recovery will also be helpful. Occasionally moving Whumpee to the living room, sitting him in the dining room, accompanying him on the terrace, or taking him to sit on the grass in the garden will make Whumpee feel better.

Light and pleasant conversation. Don't expect to be able to interrogate Whumpee during the recovery period if you don't want to be shouted at by Caretaker.

Touch. Whumpee is definitely touch-starved. A holding hand, a caress on the cheek, a stroking of the hair, a light kiss on the forehead, a hug, or a backrest when sitting will be what Whumpee really needs.

Calming sentences. Simple sentences that make Whumpee feel safe, such as "It's okay, you're safe", "I'm here", "no one will hurt you anymore", "I will take care of you", "it was just a dream, it's all over", "just rest, don't think about anything", "go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up", "you did a good job", "I'm proud of you", "thank you for coming back to me," "I'm happy you are here," "I love you," and others.

Caretaker. There is no need to ask. Caretaker is the "medicine" that Whumpee needs most for his healing.

Anything you want to add?

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

unpopular opinion but whump should and deserves to be messy

"Yeah duh there's plenty of scenarios with blood and tears--" no. I want more.

I want pink tinted spit dribbling out of Whumpee's mouth. I want strings of saliva connecting between their busted lip to Whumper's tongue. I want drool running down the corners of their mouths because of a gag that makes it difficult to swallow.

I want sweat making Whumpee feel sticky and clammy to the touch. I want their skin to be slick and soaking into their soiled clothes. I want them to squirm in discomfort of a dirty shirt clinging to their back from precious fluids that are going to risk further dehydration. I want their hair to be continuously damp and hanging in thick strands in their face.

I want the scabs to turn white with pus and black with infection. I want old wounds to tear open and bleed a thick red. I want the pink flesh underneath to pulse and quiver, the sight of yellow fat and cartilage. I want blood vessels and capillaries to burst and spread over an area, I want burns to start brown and peel away to a tender pink.

I want Whumpee to vomit out of their nose because their mouth is gagged. I want bile to reek on their clothing and on their tongue. I want them to grow use to the taste of bitter blood and burning chyme forever in the back of their throat. I want them to have to snort and hack to be able to spit out whatever was still caught on their tongue or risk swallowing it down.

I want their tears to remain unwiped and crusting over their eyes. I want snot to smear over their cheeks and leave their lips uncomfortably tacky. I want their face to remain blotchy and red because they just can't get it clean. I want dirt and blood and skin to build up under their fingernails to the point they risk infecting their own wounds if they try and mess with it. I want Whumpee to only be sprayed down with cold water and an old towel, never any soap and never in all the creases of their body.

I want their bodies caked in grime and viscera and bodily fluids. I want Whumper to never give them the luxury of feeling clean and in fact actively making them more filthy each time. I want Whumpee's clothes yellowed and their hair matted and their skin sickly. I want injuries to never properly heal so that the only option is to amputate the necrosis. I want Whumper to force Whumpee to clean up whatever kind of mess they made by licking it off the floor.

I want arteries to spew like a garden sprinkler. I want the exposed roots of pulled teeth to dangle freely in their mouth. I want Whumpee's hair, including all of their body hair, to grow to unruly lengths that are constantly tangled and ingrown. I want them to find comfort in starving because it means there's nothing to risk throwing up. I want them to scrub their skin raw and bleeding, uncaring how much it aggravates their injuries or how the soap stings, the first chance they're given for a real bath.

I want it to be nasty!!!!!!

[justbreakonme]

Birthdays in Whump Stories

-of course, the Whumpee who’s never had a birthday party. The cake, the gifts, just the idea that someone, anyone, was happy that they existed is enough to bring them to tears.

-Whumpee who doesn’t know how old they are, just a general guess, and of course their birthday is even more of a mystery, so they celebrate something else instead as a “birthday”. The day they escaped Whumper, the day they met Caretaker, the day they felt reborn or like they’d become who they should be.

-Whumpee who dreads their birthday because Whumper taunts them for it, torturing them in increments equal to their age or mockeries of birthday traditions like poisoned cake or painful party games.

-Whumpee who’d not celebrated in years because it didn’t feel safe to. It felt like anything good in their life always got taken away, so they avoid any kind of celebration or excitement, but when a small trinket or treat is pressed into their hand, a smile and a whispered “Happy Birthday” from a friend, they can’t help the rush of warmth from it.

-Caretaker feeling hollow as Whumpees birthday passed by and they were still missing. They still keep a box of cake mix in the pantry, just in case, hoping that this might be the day that Whumpee is found.

-Whumpee surprising Caretaker for their birthday! Especially if Caretaker is always so focused on Whumpee that they forgot their own birthday, or Whumpee had previously been too scared to do anything other than obey orders. So not only is it an act of love, it’s an act of healing and growth.

-Whumper offering Whumpee an “olive branch” on their birthday, especially if they’re more of the obsessive/intimate Whumpers. Feeding Whumpee cake off of their fork and gifting them trinkets and treats that are obviously more for Whumpers benefit than theirs.

-Whumpee celebrating their birthday alone after escaping Whumper, blowing out a single candle stuck through a store bought little treat, and trying to keep their head up. The idea of living another year is bitter and complicated, but they have to keep their head up, they have to. They didn’t struggle so hard to give up now.

-Whumpee forcing Whumpee to throw them a birthday party. Whumpee terrified of not meeting their very high standards, stringing up streamers with shaking hands and trying to bake a cake without burning themselves or it but every time there’s a moment of stillness, their mind is gone again.

-Whumper using a birthday invitation to kidnap Whumpee, luring them to a different location and abducting them.

-Caretaker finding that Whumpee had written in Whumpers birthday on their shared calendar, and debating taking it off or asking about it.

-Whumpee being given a birthday wish by Whumper and using it to call Caretaker, to tell them they loved them. Maybe that’s all they’re able to do, or maybe Caretaker is able to use the clues in the call to find them. Maybe Whumpee is willing to risk the punishment they’ll get to tell Caretaker a clue that only they would understand.

-Whumpee being given as a birthday gift from one Whumper to another, and the new Whumper being horrified at the previous treatment they received and becoming more of a Carewhumper.

-Or! Whumpee being given as a birthday gift to Caretaker, who has to play along in front of people but behind closed doors, cares for and protects Whumpee as much as they can. Whumpees confusion between the two versions of Caretaker and how to behave, how to feel.

Just, endless possibilities.

[whumpsday]

Catharsis #1: Talking

Masterlist

content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker

new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!

-

After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.

Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–

Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.

New email from RoboCorp Customer Support URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…

He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.

The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.

Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.

He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.

The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.

Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.

The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”

Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”

He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.

“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”

“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.

“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.

Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.

Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.

It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?

He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.

The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”

“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.

Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”

“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”

This wasn’t working.

Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.

“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.

Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.

He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”

“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.

Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”

“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.

Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.

The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.

The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.

But this wasn’t Cyrus.

“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.

Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”

“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”

At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.

“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.

Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.

He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.

“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”

The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.

Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.

The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”

“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.

“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”

“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”

“Like the number?”

“The number,” he confirmed proudly.

Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?

This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”

“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”

“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.

“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.

“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.

1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”

“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.

“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.

Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”

-

if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!

catharsis taglist:

@sowhumpshaped

@cupcakes-and-pain

@taterswhump

@softvampirewhump

@whumpspicelatte

@ladyblogofficialreporter

@whumpwillow

@not-a-space-alien

@a-crumb-of-whump

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 6: "You lied to me"

Content warning: hospital whump, (arguably) bad caretaker

“You lied to me.” 

Those were the words Caretaker was greeted with when they entered Whumpee’s hospital room. They looked small and sickly in their bed, medical equipment seeming to engulf their thin frame. A sickly blush covered their face, looking almost like a rash on irritated skin. Their eyes were still glassy, but far more alert than when Caretaker had last seen them. 

Caretaker hadn’t expected them to be awake yet. Let alone sitting upright in bed. Let alone glaring at Caretaker with so much venom that they nearly took a step back in shock.

:”Baby, what–”

“You said you’d never force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. You lied.”

“I–,” the denial died in Caretaker’s throat before it formed. Whumpee was right, technically. Caretaker had known they would refuse to go to the doctor. The only reason they’d gone before was because they’d been unconscious, and even then they’d demanded to be released as soon as possible. They would never willingly decide to go to the hospital.

Caretaker knew all that. And so when Whumpee, already struggling to recover from what they’d endured under Whumper, had fallen ill, Caretaker knew they’d never agree to see a doctor. 

And so Caretaker hadn’t bothered asking. 

It’d been easy to slip something into their food. They usually would’ve noticed it instantly, but illness had dulled their sharp mind and left them half delirious with fever. It’d been easy to bundle their limp, far too light body in a blanket and tuck them into the car. It’d been easy to ignore the look of betrayal in their half lidded eyes, and pretend their slurred objections were just incoherent mumblings. 

Some part of them had hoped Whumpee wouldn’t remember it. 

“I had no choice,” they said instead. 

“You had no choice?” Whumpee laughed, humorless and unpleasant. “You drugged me and dragged me to the hospital. Who forced you to do that?”

“I had to, Whumpee. You weren’t getting better. You were sick, and injuries from–...from before–,” Caretaker hesitated, stuttering. 

Whumpee did not. “From Whumper? You can say it. I’m not going to fall apart.”

Caretaker nodded, swallowing thickly. “You were already hurt, your body couldn’t handle illness alongside that. You may not remember but–,” the memory of the coughing fits that left Whumpee struggling to stay upright, the unfocused and cloudy eyes staring dully at nothing, the ever rising number on the thermometer, flashed through Caretaker’s mind. “--it was bad. I was worried you’d die. I just wanted to help you, and I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

“So it’s my fault now?,” Bitterness dripped from every word Whumpee spoke. They tried to lift themselves into a more upright position, arms shaking from the effort, and Caretaker had to resist the urge to rush over and help them. “It’s my fault I don’t get to make decisions for myself anymore?” 

“I never said that.”

“You think you just have a right. Because you ‘care about me’, you have the right to ignore every single thing I want. Because you’re smarter, because you know better.” 

“Just listen–”

“No, you listen,” the words came out in a growl. Whumpee’s hands gripped at the bedsheets, shaking. “Everyone’s always–always deciding shit for me! Treating me like I can’t be trusted anymore, like I’m some little kid who can’t think for themselves! Whumper thought the exact same thing, but it’s fine when you do it, right?!”

“Stop it.” the words came out more harshly than Caretaker had expected. Whumpee flinched back as if they’d been hit, falling silent. “Don’t compare me to them. I’m trying to help you, and you’re fighting me at every turn! We just got you back, and it’s like you’re trying to leave again,” the words spilled out of Caretaker, half angry, half pleading. “I’m not going to sit by and let you hurt yourself.”

The two fell into silence. For the briefest moment, a look of fear flash over Whumpee’s face. They shrank back, and in that instant the guilt Caretaker felt nearly sent them to their knees. Whumpee’s look of resentment returned only a moment later, but the anger that had fueled it seemed snuffed out. They wouldn’t look Caretaker in the eye. 

The beeping of Whumpee’s heart monitor, insistent and far too fast, felt like a condemnation in Caretaker’s ears. 

Caretaker let out a shuddering sigh, a hand coming up to rest in their hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Whumpee was silent for a long moment, not turning their gaze upward. When they finally spoke, their voice was quiet, drained of energy. “Just leave.”

“Please, just let me explain–,”

“Please. Don’t make me beg.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Whumpee didn’t respond. They didn’t look up when Caretaker left.

[unleashthehoundsofwhump]

What about whumpees who are hard to love? Ones who, lacking better coping mechanisms, lash out at their caretakers? Whumpees who risk or begin paying forward the suffering they faced? Whumpees who are bitter and volatile, whose vulnerability takes the shape of blind anger? What then?

[whump-in-the-closet]

“Oh, no, they didn’t just change me. They created me. So why are you surprised to see a monster?”

[3-2-whump]

Tear-Filled Noncon (Mutual!)

it's a working title, I'm bad with titles

Continuation of this idea

Art here

TW/CW: because this is a continuation of the previous noncon idea, a lot of the same warnings will apply. Rape/Noncon, intimate whumper, obsessed whumper, domestic violence (including brief head trauma), some degradation, inner thoughts that go a bit dark. If I missed anything, pls let me know!

He turned the key slowly in the lock, opened the door as quietly as he could, and closed it equally as carefully behind him. Whumpee’s eyes swept over the living room. The apartment was quiet and dark, dimly illuminated only by the city lights in the window. More importantly, the door to the master bedroom was closed, with no light peeking out from underneath. Whumpee sighed in relief; he’d gotten away with it.

The next breath caught in his throat as he was body-slammed into the door. A large hand pinned both wrists above his head when he tried to defend himself from the unseen force. The other hand yanked his head back by his hair, eliciting a surprised yelp of pain. “Where were you?” a warm breath hissed in his ear.

Whumpee squirmed under his master’s punishing grasp. “I-I can explain-”

“Like hell you can!” The hand in Whumpee’s hair drove his head forward and smashed it against the door. Sharp pain unfurled in the back of his skull as stars danced across his blurry vision. “Your curfew is midnight at latest, and it’s nearly two in the morning,” Whumper's angry voice thundered past the incessant throbbing in his head. The hand on his wrists tightened into a bruising grip. “So tell me-” Whumpee cried out in pain as the hand in his hair pulled harder. “Where were you?”

“You’re hurting me!” Whumpee gasped.

“Well you’re hurting me!” Whumper let go of him at once, only to throw him to the floor of the entrance. Whumpee landed hard on his side. He reflexively tried to curl into a ball to protect himself, but within moments the man had flipped him onto his back to better climb on top of him. A loud ripping sound punctuated Whumpee’s whimpers in the darkness as his shirt was torn clean in two. “Coming home late at night, with no regard to my rules, and smelling like a cheap motel –wait…” Whumper’s eyes zeroed in on a necklace of hickeys that rested on the young man’s collarbone. He slapped him, once, then twice, then again. “Who gave you those hickeys?” Slap! “Who were you sleeping with?!” Slap! “Well, answer me, whore!”

Whumpee shook his head, the tears streaming down his face as he continued to beg for mercy. “Clearly you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” Whumper huffed. “No problem, this just means I’ve got to remind you!” He brusquely unbuttoned Whumpee’s pants and pulled them and his boxers down the young man’s trembling thighs. Whumpee’s pleas of “no, no, stop, please, stop” went entirely ignored as he was flipped onto his stomach. His begging took on a frantic pitch as his body started visibly shaking. He’d never been taken from behind before, and this new position made him panic.

“You don’t deserve to be fucked like a person, so you’ll take it like the wanton little bitch you are!”

“No, no, stop, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, no, I’m sorry!”

“Shut up!” Whumpee wailed as his hips were wrenched up from the floor and Whumper entered him without any prep or lube. The man was not gentle, far from it. Quick, desperate thrusts punctured him deeper than he was used to. It was the roughest he had ever been with him, unquestionably, feeling less like having sex and more like being torn in half. Stubbornly enough, Whumpee’s body reacted to these more intense sensations all the same, especially when the man on top of him continuously slammed into that sweet spot inside of him.

“Look at you,” Whumper commented derisively, a hint of bitterness in his gravelly voice. “Hard as a rock already, you slutty thing! You’d be happy with just anyone’s cock inside your ass, wouldn’t you?” Whumpee’s cheeks colored in shame as a shaky moan interrupted his pleas. “But you shouldn’t be; you’re mine!”

He felt a thin, warm fluid trickle past the cock pummeling his hole. The man above him crushed him further into the carpeted floor. “I own this ass, and it is mine to fuck,” he screamed, “you got it?! No one else’s, just mine!”

He didn’t have to see behind him to know he was bleeding. At least it makes Master’s thrusts a little less painful, he thought. That feeling of morbid relief alone made him cry even harder. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Why am I not enough for you?!” Whumper’s voice wavered with emotion. His angry thrusts turned sloppier as he continued. “Damn it, and damn you! I gave you everything you could ask for; I gave you everything you could have needed! I fed you, clothed you, made you into the man you are today, so why?! What are they giving you that I’m not?!” The man’s voice caught on the last question. Whumpee felt small wet drops of liquid fall onto the nape of his neck. Tears? He realized with horror that Whumper was crying as he was raping him.

“M-Master, I-I’m sorry, please-”

“I said, shut up!” He pulled Whumpee back by the hips until he was flush with the older man’s pubic bone, burying himself to the hilt and spilling deep inside him. They stayed in that position for an uncomfortably long time. Suppressed sniffling sounds filled the entryway, and Whumpee knew they weren’t all coming from him. Whumper eventually pulled out, leaving his hole gaping and obscenely oozing cum. He settled on the floor next to Whumpee and repositioned them both onto their sides. “I love you, boy,” he murmured as he pulled him closer to spoon him. “I don’t enjoy hurting you, boy.” The tension gradually left Whumpee’s body as he accepted the forced cuddles. The man planted a kiss on the back of his ear, right above the barcode tattoo that marked him indelibly as property. The kiss was wet and tinged with sadness. “So why do you make me hurt you?”

-

Because what we do –no, what you do to me- is not supposed to feel good. How could it feel good? I didn’t want it, I don’t want it, and I will never want it, so why does my body betray me every time? What if it’s because you’re right? What if this really was my true purpose? To be nothing more than a pair of holes to fill and a body to break under yours? What if I am all those names you call me because I think this feels good?

And, what if I act out, do all the things I know will test your patience and make you rough and uncaring so that it finally hurts? So that it finally doesn’t feel good, and I don’t have to ask if my body and my mind are on the same page about me being violated? What if that’s why I make you hurt me? Would you stop? Would you hurt me more? Would it even matter?

-

That is everything Whumpee wanted to say. Instead, through a throat ripped raw from screaming, he rasped, “I don’t know.”

[mj-iza-writer]

By request of a few people. Part two of my recent story of water asphyxiation.

Whumpee had found themself on the receiving end of another water boarding treatment.

This time Whumpee's head was forced under water several times for thirty second intervals.

Whumpee was tied up in the cold basement again.

They were not cold though, they were fuming... bitter hatred for Whumper was keeping them nice and toasty down there.

The original plan was to kill Whumper in their sleep, but now, weeks later, death just seemed too easy for Whumper. They needed to pay.

The next day, Whumper came down, grinning ear to ear.

"Only a day or so before my big trip. You will be kept down here while I'm gone for a good part of the month. You better hope I decide to leave you some food down here", Whumper knelt down, "or maybe I should leave not quite enough so you'll will have to ration it. Are you even that smart?"

"I hate you. I hope you die", Whumper spat.

"My such a nasty little thing you've become since you found out about your rescue fails. So have you decided you have nothing left to live for, so why behave anymore", Whumper smirked, "should I give you another lesson?"

Whumper grabbed a fistful of hair and started to drag Whumpee to the stairs.

Going up, Whumpee studied Whumper's steps. As they lifted up a foot to the next step, Whumpee yanked back and caused Whumper to stumble.

By instinct to grab something, Whumper let go of Whumpee but was already tumbling down the steps. Whumpee raced down as fast as possible, so they wouldn't get crushed.

Whumper landed on the last steps and didn't move.

Whumpee timidly inched closer to Whumper. This was it, they were either going to be killed, or they had this one chance at freedom.

Whumper seemed to be unconscious.

Not missing a second, Whumpee turned and tried to fish the keys from Whumper's pocket for their handcuffs.

"This is almost impossible", Whumpee struggled, but finally, they successfully found the keys.

Whumpee struggled to drag and role Whumper's body to the far parts of the basement. There were shackles cemented to the floor and wall their.

"Why are you so heavy", Whumpee grunted, "is that why I don't get to eat? You eat it all."

Finally, Whumper was shackled.

Whumpee removed everything from Whumper. Phone, any keys. They finally decided it would be easier to just strip Whumper down to their under wear.

"Just like you did to me when I came here", Whumpee grinned as they cut away the clothes with a knife they found.

Whumpee laughed as Whumper seemed to be coming to consciousness.

"If you'll excuse me... I'm starving", Whumpee smirked, then hurried up the stairs.

Whumpee sat at the table with two freshly made sandwiches and a pan full of box mac and cheese.

They stuffed their face with food. It had been days since Whumper allowed them to eat. Whumpee chugged bottles of water and other things in Whumper's fridge.

"Whumpee get your fucking ass down here", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee almost ran and hid, but remembered they had the upper hand now.

They slank down the steps and looked across the room at Whumper.

"Unlock me this instant.... you are in so much trouble", Whumper yelled.

"No", Whumpee whispered.

"Let me go", Whumper watched them turn, "you better not leave me down here", Whumper pulled on the chains. They knew they didn't have a chance. Those chains were made to last. The key was the only way out.

Whumpee smiled as they stepped out of view.

"Whumpee", Whumper yelled again.

"I'm going to finish eating", Whumpee called down.

"You better not be eating my food."

The door slammed.

Whumpee came down later with a bucket.

"What are you doing?", Whumper frowned at them while they walked past to the shower.

"You have it coming Master", Whumpee stated snarkly.

"I'm going to kill you when I get out of this", Whumper pulled at the chains again.

"Well, I guess I should try to keep you like that then", Whumpee smiled as they came out.

Whumper could hear water running.

"I've already texted your friends to cancel your trip. I told them to send pictures. You ruined my life, I plan on returning the favor", Whumpee glared.

"Look, I'm sorry, you made yourself clear. If you let me out, I'll forgive you. We will pretend this didn't happen and move on with our lives", Whumper was becoming quite worried.

Whumpee scoffed, "you've had me here for so long, tortured me, ruined my entire life. Now that I have the upper hand, you want to try to make an agreement. I'm not going back. You will get to feel how I've felt", Whumpee went to check on the bucket, "starting with this."

Whumpee struggled as they carried out the heavy bucket of water.

"No no no", Whumper yelled.

Whumpee laughed evilly as they tossed the water on Whumper.

Whumper gasped and looked up at Whumpee with anger.

"You look like a drowned rat", Whumpee snickered.

"You've had your fun, but there will have to be a time where you will have to let me out. You'll run out of food, or something will happen", Whumper shook water away from their head, "I strongly suggest you take my offer of forgiveness. Untie me, you will be lightly punished, but we will forget this ever happened."

"No", Whumpee smirked, "I'm having to much fun. I haven't had this much fun in years."

"Oh, when I get out, oh, you are in for it", Whumper warned as Whumpee walked to the stairs, "mark my words."

Whumpee gulped as they reached the top step, "they're right, I might run out of food. What will I do then?"

Whumpee tiredly yawned, "maybe that will be my issue to figure out tomorrow."

Whumpee slept in Whumper's bed that night, it was so warm and cozy.

Whumper shivered in the basement.

"It's colder than I thought it was down here", Whumper's teeth chattered. They were still soaked.

"It won't be long, they will have to let me out of here", Whumper frowned, "I uh, may reconsider keeping them down here though. Especially being wet."

It was morning. Whumpee looked at Whumper's phone.

"This might be a long shot", Whumpee reached for it and started looking up how to videos.

How to order food... How to adult... How to survive a kidnapping.... What to do after you've been kidnapped.

"None of this makes sense", Whumpee turned the phone off.

Whumpee contemplated calling the police, but they grew angry again when they heard Whumper moving downstairs.

"They need to pay", Whumpee threatened.

As they walked past a calendar, they noticed just how much time Whumper would have been gone on their vacation.

A devious thought came to mind.

"It wouldn't kill you to give me food" Whumper glared as Whumpee came down the stairs, "if you let me out, I won't water board and you leave you down here anymore. I definitely see how unfair that was. I need to eat and tak..."

"You didn't feed me for three days. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet", Whumpee frowned.

"Yeah, well, I'm... I'm sorry", Whumper mumbled.

"Now you're sorry", Whumpee stormed closer and in blind anger slapped Whumper across the face.

Whumpee stared dumbly at Whumper, they were panicking on the inside. Whumper's glare pierced them deeply.

Something about the slap felt good though. They did it again and again and again.

"Are you done yet?", Whumper grunted.

"No", Whumpee sobbed, "everything you've done to me. Everything I wanted to be and do when I grew up just gone."

Whumpee thought back to the calendar.

"You know, I thought of something. You had a vacation planned. Your friends are gone, you're off of work for however long, and neighbors also know", Whumpee grinned evilly, "no one will think anything of you missing until I had my fun."

Whumper sighed, "Whumpee, you are turning into me. I know I've done terrible things, and you've revealed to me how they feel. I am truly honestly sorry. This isn't you though, you are not meant to be like this."

"Shut up", Whumpee slapped Whumper again. Tears streamed down their face, "you've done so much to me... you deserve all of this."

Whumpee stormed away and up the stairs.

Whumpee lay in Whumper's bed crying. They wanted their parents... their life back.

Whumpee glanced at the window. They were never allowed to look out the windows. Whumper didn't want to take a chance of Whumpee recognizing the neighborhood. Their family lived only a few blocks away.

Whumpee slowly crept to the window and opened the curtain carefully.

"Sunlight", Whumpee felt the warmth, and they looked around, "it feels so wonderful."

Whumpee grabbed Whumper's keys and wallet and went outside. With a deep breath, they left the property.

Down the sidewalk a little, they were overwhelmed with familiarity. They took off running. They knew this place.

They saw their old home in the distance.

"Mom... dad", Whumpee ran past the gate and to the door. They knocked loudly.

Someone came to the door that Whumpee didn't recognize.

"Can I help you?", they made a concerned face.

"Uhm is the Polaris family here. I'm sorry it's been a long time, I don't recognize you" Whumpee asked enthusiastically.

"They moved about a year and a half ago", the person frowned, "are you okay? Should I call someone?"

"No no, uhm I'm sorry to bother you, thankyou for helping me", Whumpee tried to hide their quivering lip.

Whumpee stormed down the stairs carrying a knife.

"What are you going to do with that?", Whumper scooted back in concern.

"You ruined everything", Whumpee waved the knife around angrily, "my family moved away. I know how close I was to being saved. Now they're gone, and I have no idea where", Whumpee yelled.

"Whumpee don't get any closer", Whumper tried to position their body to stand up, but everything was numb from sitting in the one position the chains allowed for.

In a final attempt, Whumper gave a quick shove to Whumpee when they got closer.

Whumpee fell to the ground, and the knife fell to their own arm.

"Ahh!", Whumpee screamed as blood came pulling out of their arm.

"Whumpee let me help you", Whumper tried to get closer and pull their arms apart.

"No don't touch me", Whumpee cowarded away and ran up the stairs.

Whumper sighed but noticed that in their haste, Whumpee left the keys on the floor.

Whumper looked at them and grinned.

As quietly as possible, they stretched out to the limits of the shackles and kicked the key back toward them.

"Whumpee Whumpee Whumpee", Whumper chuckled, "this is where you let your amateur show."

Whumper managed to wiggle around and unlock everything.

They slowly limped up the stairs. Still sore from being knocked down. Their body shaken from lack of food and their medicine they needed.

Whumper carefully opened the door and listened for movement.

"They're in the bathroom", Whumper whispered.

They tiptoed to the room. Went inside and slammed the door behind them.

Whumpee turned quickly. Fear and panic on their face. They felt their pockets.

"You left the keys you idiot", Whumper grinned, "sit down on the toilet, now. I already know you don't know how to bandage that properly."

Whumpee tried to attack Whumper but was stopped instantly.

"Ow ow ow", Whumpee winced as Whumper lifted their arms behind their back.

"Stop freaking fighting me", Whumper whispered in their ear, "I'm not trying to hurt you. I want to get this bleeding stopped so I can go get my medicine and eat something. I would have let you keep going until you realized I had the keys, but I need my medicine."

Whumpee stopped squirming, "medicine... oh crap."

"Oh yes", Whumper nodded, "now sit on the damn toilet and behave."

Whumpee fell forward a little when Whumper released them. They rubbed the ache in their arm while they sat down.

"What are you going to do to me?", Whumpee frowned as Whumper came back with towels and bandages.

"What would you like me to do to you", Whumper questioned, "what punishment do you think you deserve from making me fall down the stairs and keeping me hostage in the basement?"

"I could make you cookies", Whumpee looked down sheepishly as they watched Whumper bandage the cut.

"My sugars are out of wack, and you want to make me cookies", Whumper frowned, "are you trying to kill me?"

"Would it work?", Whumpee looked deep into Whumper's eyes.

"Nope, just make me sick, but you'd still be stuck with me", Whumper stood, "nice attempt though. All of this was quite eye opening."

Whumpee's stomach grumbled just then.

"Yeah, I'm feeling about like that myself", Whumper grunted, "how about we order food in."

"We?", Whumpee made a strange face.

"We", Whumper nodded, "I know you have my wallet. Where is it?"

Whumpee was tied to the table for dinner mostly to make sure they didn't attack Whumper again.

Whumper watched as Whumpee quickly scarfed the food down.

"What, are you afraid I'm gonna take it?", Whumper tried to joke.

Whumpee looked at them sadly and nodded.

Whumper frowned, "I guess poor choice of words."

Whumpee nodded again.

Whumpee struggled against the ropes, "why do I have to be tied up?"

"Because I don't need you to attack me again", Whumper pointed out, "I'm still sore from the stairs, and my medicine hasn't kicked in yet. You'll remain tied up until I feel comfortable that you won't try to kill me again."

Whumpee huffed, "I still hate you, but I feel bad I forgot your medicine."

"That's fair. I know I made your life hell for the last couple of years, and I did horrible things to you out of glee. I guess that momentary power exchange helped me realize how I was treating you. Every time you did something to me, I had a moment of realization. I would like to keep you here still, I guess can we just remake our relationship to more of an employer/ employee role instead of this mess we have already."

Whumpee looked down, "so you want everything that I went through to be forgotten. You get to live happily while I still have to live through the trauma you caused me. I'm still stuck here, am I not."

Whumper frowned.

"And because I have nowhere else to go. All of my hopes and dreams taken from me, you get this slave", Whumpee looked up with a glare.

"What did you want to be when you grew up", Whumper leaned back in the chair, "you've mentioned that a few times."

"I-I wanted to be a traveler. I wanted to get away from my family and travel. I had so many destinations in mind. Europe, Asia, Africa, South America.... I even wanted to see the North Pole", Whumpee smiled at the memories.

"North pole?", Whumper repeated.

"It was a childhood thing. Christmas was always the best part of the year in my home. No one argued or anything. It was peaceful. I always wanted to thank Santa for making Christmas nice for me. That was always my wish at least", Whumpee sniffled.

Whumper sighed, "was your family abusive towards you."

Whumpee looked down and nodded.

"Then why did you want to be rescued by them?", Whumper sighed, "you wanted them to come back for you."

"Everyone wants to be rescued Master and it didn't necessarily have to be them rescuing me", Whumpee smiled weakly.

"I see", Whumper nodded then clicked their tongue on their teeth in thought, "I want to make it up to you, in all honesty it scared me that you had all of this figured out. I think you scared me straight. I don't know how I'm going to do that though."

Whumper and Whumpee sat in silence.

"You know I was thinking... how long ago did your family move away?", Whumper stood up and started to clear the table.

"The person said a year and a half", Whumpee frowned.

"They didn't wait long after your announcement. It almost seemed they gave up and moved away... not much remorse", Whumper frowned.

"You're trying to get into my head and I won't allow it", Whumpee glared, "you'll make me feel comfortable, then you'll punish me. You'll get back at me in time for doing acting out "

"Whatever you say Whumpee", Whumper sighed, "Im ready for bed", Whumper yawned, "not exactly comfortable down there."

"I know", Whumpee mumbled indignantly.

Whumpee was tied up and layed on the floor of Whumper's room.

"Seems you made yourself comfortable in my bed", Whumper frowned at the tossed sheets and blankets.

Whumpee nodded, "I haven't slept in a bed in years. I-it was comfy a-and warm."

"Ymhmm" Whumper turned the light off.

Whumpee laid in the dark for a few minutes before they allowed some tears to fall.

Whumper sat up after hearing a few sniffles.

"You need to go to sleep", Whumper turned the light on and looked at Whumpee. "I'm allowing you to lay in my room as the carpet is softer. What else do you want from me?"

"You don't get it", Whumpee yelled, "you don't get it. Do you know how much I went through by your hands? I finally get some ounce of freedom, and it's gone already. My family goes on thinking I hated them. I'm alone, and you think laying me on your floor is some sort of reward."

Whumper frowned... normally this was where Whumpee would be getting kicked, but Whumper didn't know what to do now. They had felt what Whumpee felt, and they were honestly a little nervous of just how angry Whumpee had gotten and how much damage could have been done."

Whumper got out of bed, and walked over to Whumpee.

Whumpee tried to fold into themself to protect their stomach.

They looked up weirdly when Whumper tried to pick them up.

"Man I don't know what I hurt falling down the stairs, but I'm not going to be able to move you around as easily as I did before", Whumper frowned.

Finally, Whumper got up enough strength to heave Whumpee up and toss them into the bed.

Whumper took several large gulps of air and leaned on the bed tiredly.

"What are you doing to me now?", Whumpee glared.

Whumper sighed as they stood up and walked to the opposite side of the bed, "just shut up and go to sleep."

Whumper tossed the blanket on top of themself and Whumpee.

"You're allowing me to sleep here?", Whumpee frowned as Whumper turned the light off.

"For right now... until I figure out something else to do", Whumper turned over, "I'm too tired to deal with you. Now go to sleep."

In the morning, Whumpee woke up to Whumper picking them up.

"What... wait?", Whumpee thrashed, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry."

Whumper struggled to hold them up and finally let Whumpee fall back to the bed.

"What the heck... you idiot? Why are you fighting me so much?"

"You were going to water board me or something... I know it. I got too comfortable, and... and... and you were going to punish me now", Whumpee whimpered, "I'm sorry... I know I shouldn't have done it... I just, I just wanted...", Whumpee looked down as tears fell to their cheeks.

Whumper frowned as they watched Whumpee, "okay... okay... calm down. I didn't know I ruined you this much", Whumper knelt beside the bed.

"What did you think would happen after treating someone the way you treated me?", Whumpee sobbed.

"I guess I never considered it. I never thought of the end result, I only lived in the moment", Whumper reached for a tissue and wiped at Whumpee's face, "I know it hurt you... that I hurt you. I was disconnected from that realization. I never meant to hurt you, that wasn't my original plan with bringing you here. I wanted you to do housework for me, yeah, but I think being trapped down in the basement gave me time to think. I want to make it up to you if you'll allow me."

Whumpee sniffled a little more, "I don't think you will be able to make it up to me any time soon", Whumpee looked down, "I'm not ready to forgive you for everything you did to me."

"I understand that, but I can work toward it", Whumper frowned, "will you let me at least try to do that. You have to at least promise me you won't attempt to kill me if I untie you. You make me a little warry right now."

Whumpee thought quietly for a few moments before nodding.

"Okay", Whumper nodded back before reaching up and undoing the knotts.

"So uh... how exactly do you plan on making it up to me?", Whumpee rubbed their sore wrist.

"Well you said you enjoyed traveling and wanted to go places. I also enjoy traveling, though I don't plan on going to the North Pole. We can go on trips. We can learn more about each other", Whumper smirked, "I can't let you leave though."

Whumpee frowned at Whumper and was about to yell.

"You have nowhere to go now, and I saw my search history on my phone", Whumper stood, "I don't think you'd last long out their."

Whumpee blushed and looked away.

"I know that's my fault though", Whumper nodded, "I'll teach how to adult, and be able to travel. If there is ever a time you get freed from me you can at least be a little self-reliant out there. This world is a mess though."

"I'll agree on one condition", Whumpee looked toward the window.

Whumper looked at the window and saw it was opened.

"I don't want to be trapped in here anymore, I want to be able to see the outside again. You can set rules, I'm fine with serving a master as long as they're fair to me, but I don't want to be left inside anymore", Whumpee frowned, "and no more water boarding me."

"No I won't do that to you anymore, and yes we can consider some rules so you can go outside. Sound fair", Whumper stood, "plus now that I'm aware you enjoy traveling I can take you on trips instead of my idiot friends."

Whumpee looked up at them and grinned.

"Okay let's go get breakfast", Whumper turned.

Whumpee jumped from the bed and hurried to follow Whumper.

"Breakfast sounds good", Whumpee whispered.

By special request of: @3-2-whump , @defire @fa1rie

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @clevah-girlboss

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[seth-whumps]

Ideal caretaker whumpee relationship?

ohhhhhh okay so two answers

first of all I'm an absolute SUCKER for sibling dynamics. i love it so much. there's a devotion in being forged from the same hot iron. there's bitterness and hopeless adoration. i will kill for you and no one else. get your fucking feet off my dash.

secondly and this may be more niche, but I do love polyam teammates. i love a good too-many-caretakers-in-the-kitchen scenario and the more love packed into it the better. give that whumpee a hug. and another. and another. and another. and ano

[whumplump]

part 1

part 2

Whumpee would take the eggs out of the mold as gently as possible and place them in the refrigerator as if they were made of crystal. They were being as careful as possible, so they were taking their time, and they were afraid that Whumper would complain about the delay, but the punishment for breaking the eggs would be worse than the punishment for taking too long on a task.

The doorbell rang lazily. Whumper was on the couch, working on the computer, and didn't bother to tell the housekeeper. Whumpee set the eggs aside and got ready to open the door. They were greeted by a person who seemed to have visited the house before. The person had a bag on their shoulder and had the kindest face Whumpee had ever seen in their life.

"Good afternoon, how are you? I'm Caretaker, is Whumper home?" the stranger greeted, offering their hand.

Whumpee responded, but their throat was raw and their voice was inaudible. The visitor asked them to repeat it. Whumpee smoothed their throat and tried again.

"...They are in the living room..."

"Can you let them know I'm here, please?"

Whumpee raised their hand, asking for a moment. They walked into the living room and stood next to Whumper.

"What do you want?" the owner said, dejectedly.

"There's someone at the door, wanting to talk to you... They said their name is Caretaker..."

Whumper lowered the computer screen and got up from the couch in a bad mood. Whumpee returned to their previous duties while Whumper welcomed Caretaker into the house. The two seemed like old friends.

“Whumpee, make Caretaker some coffee" Whumper said amidst laughter.

Caretaker furrowed their eyebrows, a little uncomfortable with the way Whumper spoke.

“Ah, no need, I'm fine, thank you—"

“I insist," Whumper interrupted. They turned to Whumpee. "Now," they said in a firmer tone, like a threat.

“Y-Yes sir," Whumpee responded promptly.

After making coffee, Whumpee returned to their previous activity without looking back. They noticed a slightly sad look in Caretaker's eyes as the guest accepted the cup.

Whumpee continued tidying the kitchen and pre-preparing rice for dinner, while they watched the other two in the living room, talking, chuckling. Apparently, Caretaker was a good friend of Whumper who just returned from a long trip. Whumpee confirmed this in their own head when Caretaker took out some items from their bag and showed them to Whumper.

They were distracted, not paying attention to Whumpee in the corner.

'At least I won't have to worry about any complaints for now…'

Whumper's voice coming from the room made them think otherwise immediately.

"Whumpee, my coffee is too bitter. Make another one, with more sugar, now.”

Whumpee rescued Whumper's coffee mug, made new coffee, adding a few extra spoons of sugar, and handed the new drink to the master.

Whumper didn't look pleased. They asked for another. This misfortune was repeated three more times, until Whumper gave up.

"You're no good at all. Not even for making a cup of coffee. Nevermind, I don't feel like it anymore," they said, putting the mug aside.

Caretaker felt bad about that attitude. Why the hell was Whumper treating the other like that?

“My coffee was great, thank you very much," they said to Whumpee, a little awkwardly, trying to ease the tense atmosphere.

Caretaker spent the whole afternoon at the house. Whumpee did all the chores while enviously listening to the conversations between the two friends.

As night fell, Caretaker had to say goodbye. Whumper continued to treat Whumpee with contempt, and ordered them to take their friend to the door.

Before leaving, Caretaker took a look at Whumpee. They had sweet eyes and a worried expression.

“Why do they treat you like that?" They asked quietly.

Whumpee didn't answer the question. They just hurried to close the door. Before they did, they said, almost inaudible, in a voice full of pain:

“Please save me…”