#manipulative whumper

[fineiguessimintowhump]

Whumpee leaned into Whumper's touch. For once, the hand in their hair was simply petting, touch soft and soothing. They could hear him humming slightly, the vibration almost tickling, in their back.

“I’m sad to see you go, truly.”

The hand moved, Whumper softly scratching the back of their neck. It almost felt like encouragement to look up and speak, but Whumpee didn’t try it. They felt so nice, for once: nothing hurt, no-one angry, warm and fed.

“But my friend… I couldn’t say no, Whumpee.”

Whumper’s voice was different than usual. It had been soft, at the beginning of, when the petting had started, and now it was a little stilted. Whumpee had thought they’d become quite fluent in Whumper, but now all they could tell was: it didn’t sound like anger. He shifted, forcing Whumpee to move with.

Their head was tilted up, eyes meeting Whumper’s. The corners of his eyes were crinkled up, something in them that Whumpee couldn’t identify. It didn’t make sense.

“Sometimes I think they’re crueller than even me.”

Whumper chuckled, grip tightening slightly when Whumpee’s eyes widened. They lowered their eyes immediately, shaking slightly.

“Ah- no, shh, I’m not mad-”

There was still laughter in their voice as he pulled Whumper’s head up, forcing them to meet his eyes again. Maybe he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth – Whumpee certainly couldn’t. Still, they relaxed a little. Whumper had never pulled them by the hair so gently.

“Unlike me, they don’t care about their pets. You know I want you to be better, hmm? They don’t.”

Whumpee swallowed. The eyes on him were expectant, watching his reactions with amusement. Whumper wasn’t sad – he was enjoying it.

He leaned forward, bringing his mouth closer to Whumpee’s ear.

“They don’t correct infractions as soon as they witness them. They wait. They watch and they record. And when misbehaving pets like you have committed enough of those, they deal out punishment for all of them in one go.”

They froze, the condescending pat on top of their head the only reason they resumed moving. The chuckle by their ear felt much more threatening.

“Well – they asked for you to be in ‘good state’. I complied, of course. Being on their bad side would be quite the thing.”

Whumper leaned back, the corner of their lips still up.

“But I’m sure you’ll do great, love.”

and then caretaker gets whumpee and oh surprise they are not convinced when caretaker says they """"won't hurt them"""""

[snakebites-and-ink]

I love brainwashing and mind control and hypnosis and conditioning and stockholm syndrome and manipulation and anything that deeply messes with whumpee's head

[entity56]

Whumpee's skin prickles every time the makeup brush wipes against a bruise or cut, but they dare not move an inch. Their hands bound behind them, all they can manage is to dig their nails into their palms as Whumper brushes on the concealer, then the foundation, to their neck and face. They clench their teeth, both to avoid moving their jaw and to avoid making a peep as Whumper works on their battered face.

Whumper didn't seem the least bit stressed, by contrast. In fact, they practically floated as they walked back and forth from their makeup tray to Whumpee. They hummed an unrecognizable tune, stopping every so often to take a sharp breath in. It would be soothing if not given the situation.

The vent blows cool air up Whumpee's legs, through the fabric of their expensive clothes, giving them goosebumps. Whumpee can't tell if the shivering is from the cold or the fear.

As Whumper sits back down on their cushioned stool in front of them, they cock their head and tsk disapprovingly.

"Darling, what's wrong?" they ask. "Why are you shaking?"

They lean back a bit to observe the fine garments adorning their malnourished body, and squint.

"Are the clothes I got you not good enough?"

Whumpee stares uneasily. Did they expect an answer? Movement? Last time they'd spoken without permission, they'd been decked across the face. The silence seems to displease Whumper, and they put the makeup brush down and cross their arms.

"When I ask you a question, you answer. Are you really that ungrateful?" they ask. Whumpee's throat constricts with dehydration, and they gulp thickly and clear their throat before attempting to respond.

"N-- ugh. No," they cough, casting their eyes down to Whumper's knees. "I'm not. Thank you."

"Thank you...?" Whumper prods.

"...Thank you, sweetheart." The words leaving Whumpee's mouth made them sick, but they heard Whumper giggle a little.

"That's better!" they chirp as they pick their makeup brush back up. "Now, eyes back on me. We wouldn't want to smudge your makeup, now, would we? All that work on your pretty little face would be such a shame." They snap their fingers. "Eyes on me, darl."

Whumpee looks back up at Whumper, into their eyes, piercing, almost painful to look at. They shut slightly as Whumper smiles and sets back to work on their foundation. The humming resumes, this time in a recognizable tune-- 'You Are My Sunshine'-- and Whumpee tenses up again. Stiff as a statue; don't move an inch. Don't move an inch. Don't move an inch.

The makeup was itchy and caked onto Whumpee's face like mud. They were grateful their hands were bound, or they'd try to wipe it off themselves. That didn't mean it wouldn't drive them crazy, of course, but at least there wasn't any risk of getting in trouble.

Whumper sighs as they cover the last inch of Whumpee's face, and they stand up and walk back to the makeup tray.

"You know what, Whumpee?" they say lightly, as if discussing the weather, as they browse the eye shadow. "Hold on-- look at me, maybe warm tones?-- Whumpee, you're absolutely beautiful. It's as though you've walked directly out of a painting, hmm? I could just stare at you... all day..."

Whumpee stares at them silently as they pause, collecting their thoughts. They turn over their shoulder at them, studying them hard, as though the next time they'd turn around, Whumpee would be gone.

"So I don't understand... why are you making me taint your beauty?" they ask sadly, resting a hand against their cheek. "Why would you work so hard against me? Why would you make me need to leave such ugly marks?"

Anger-- and shame?-- bubble up in Whumpee's stomach, and they cast their eyes back downwards. They feel their ears heat up with the emotion, and they wish in that moment that they could just be back in bed, even if it was next to this horrible, horrible individual. At least the blankets were warm.

"Answer me," Whumper demands, a slight note of irritation in their voice. Whumpee hears their foot tapping against the tile.

"I'm not making you do anything," they say quietly, their voice wavering as they spoke.

"Hm?" Whumper questions, furrowing their eyebrows and setting down the eye shadow pallette.

"I'm not making you hit me." Whumpee shifts uncomfortably in the small wooden chair. "I'm not making you torture me. I never wanted to be here."

For an unbearably long moment, the room was deathly silent. Whumpee's blood runs cold with regret as the reality of what they just said sets in.

But the silence is broken with soft footsteps, and Whumpee nearly jumps out of their skin as Whumper plops themselves right down in their lap and gently turns their head towards them. What was that expression? Was it anger, perhaps? Ice cold rage?

No. It was love. Affection and tenderness as they lean forward and whisper into their ear "I never asked you."

Their hands rest on Whumpee's shoulders as they lean into their chest and smile up at them, innocent, endearing. "It's okay. You're still a bit misguided. I understand, darling. I'll fix that right up for you, okay? Then nothing will stand in the way. I'll never have to ruin you again."

They rise from Whumpee's lap, leaving them paralyzed with dread at that implication.

"Now, be silent, my love. We wouldn't want to be late for dinner, now, would we? I'll finish your make-up in a jiffy."

They walk back to their makeup tray.

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumper kept the whumpee drugged and practically incapable of thinking- they were easier to manipulate this way. Sure the whumper loved breaking defiant captives, but sometimes, making the whumpee believe that they were back somewhere safe between torture sessions just felt better than having insults hurled at them. The whumpee was just too out of it to realize that the person comforting them wasn’t their friend- it was their tormentor.

[unforgivenn]

DIALOGUES FOR MANIPULATIVE WHUMPERS !!

Please tag me or lmk if you use any of these ❤️

"You know, I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're special to me."

"I can't stop thinking about you. You've completely captivated me."

"I love you in a way I've never loved anyone else. You're different."

"I love you so much, it hurts me to see you in pain. But it's for your own good."

"I only hurt you because I care. I want what's best for you, even if you can't see it right now."

"If you really loved me, you'd understand why I have to do this. It's because I love you that I have to push you."

"I love you, but you have to prove yourself to me. Show me that you're worthy of my love."

"If you do exactly as I say, I'll show you just how much I care for you."

"I love you more than anyone else ever could. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Those people who say I don't love you are just trying to tear us apart. They're jealous of what we have."

"You're just confused right now. Trust me, I know what's best for us. I love you too much to let you make a mistake."

"Oh, darling, I hate to see you suffer. But you know I only do this because I care about you."

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, but you left me with no choice. It's for your own good, believe me."

"If you really loved me, you'd understand why I had to do this."

"I need you to trust me. You're the only one I can count on in this world."

"Don't you see? We're meant to be together. That's why I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep us together."

"If you behave and do as I say, maybe I'll consider showing you some kindness."

"Prove to me that you're worthy of my love, and maybe I'll let up on you a little."

"You'll earn my affection when you start acting like you deserve it. Until then, you're on your own."

[screams-n-shackles]

I like tied up Whumpees as much as the next person but you know what I love?

Mental Restraints

Whumpee being forced to hold still while they are beaten to a pulp while their s/o is held at gunpoint. Locking their arms behind their back, digging their own nails into their skin as to not make a move.

Whumpee who cannot scream or make any other sound because rough punishment awaits if they do.

Whumpee who is guaranteed to come back after tasks obediently because Whumper has something or someone they want.

Whumpee who cannot hurt someone else because their morals hinder them. Leading them into an even worse situation.

Whumpee having to do anything Whumper asks of them because blackmail material exists and got into the wrong hands. Or even better, has been faked but is good enough to ruin Whumpees whole life if they don't play nice.

The helplessness of being aware that they are physically capable to end all of this in a bloody mess. But the price is too high.

[whump-queen]

sabotage

a carewhumper who’s constantly engineering situations for whumpee to need them, to run to them crying, to fall to their knees, broken and shattered and so easy to convince that all they need is whumper.

- slashing their tire so they’ll have to call whumper for a ride

- paying dudes to go rob and beat them up so they’ll be bloody and broken and weak and whumper can happen to ‘stumble upon them’ since they were just in the neighborhood…

- sabotaging whumpee’s finances (stealing their rent checks, running up their credit cards) to get them kicked out of whatever meager housing they’ve managed to rent. make them destitute. desperate. and all whumper has to do is waltz in with open arms, maybe a warm coat, and an offer whumpee can’t afford to refuse.

whumpee just doesn’t know why these things keep happening to them. whumper doesn’t help of course; their every word implies it was all whumpee’s fault. that maybe if they weren’t so careless and reckless with these things, maybe they—

no, whumper should just take care of these things for whumpee from now on. that’s what’s best, since whumpee has clearly proven they aren’t responsible enough to manage money, or shopping, let alone a job or really any human responsibilities.

after all, whumpee’s just a broken thing, and only whumper can put them back together.

only whumper will let them break down. only whumper can make them safe. only whumper can hold them close, warm, and just let whumpee collapse into their arms and sob against their neck until they finally drift to sleep.

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee wonders and how and why they didn't notice Whumper's red flags earlier. If they did, they wouldn't have agreed to go drinking with them, they wouldn't have been chained up and beaten in their basement, and they still blame themself for being ignorant post-rescue.

[evil-by-noon]

It’s not me I swear

Also this drawing comes with a scenario!

Sadistic Carewhumper and Stoic Whumpee~

The Carewhumper is indeed incredibly cruel, sadistic, violent whatever while physically hurting Whumpee- just until they get them crying uncontrollably, that is. A hyperventilating panic attack where a few tears fall doesn’t cut it, they need to make Whumpee cry and wail and sob. Once they’re there, Carewhumper flips the switch and becomes super tender and loving… they claim it’s good for Stoic Whumpee to let their feelings out, and this is their totally-not-self-serving “shortcut”.

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#1)

Preventative Measures

so like. this is a thing. been toying with this little guy in my head for a few weeks and like, almost nothing is concrete but I'm hoping I'll turn it into a series.

content: ex-villain whumpee, hero/leader whumper, manipulative whumper, just like a LOT of manipulation, collars/collaring, referenced electrocution, low self esteem, subtle threats, guilt trips

I've never done this before, let me know if I missed something!!

masterlist | next

----------

Villain has finally been given a chance. A chance to prove he's more than what the whole city has always thought of him, more than what his father raised him to be. He wanted to do good in the world. The heroes were finally giving him a chance to be more than they've always thought of him. 

...or so he thought.

He gulps as he stares at the shock collar in Team Leaders hands. It's a small thing, sleek and unassuming. But he knows exactly what it is because Team Leader had shown him how it worked.  The man is currently speaking to him nonchalantly. Villain should really be listening to the hero that holds the key to a better life. But that collar... shakes Villain's faith in Team Leader. Just a little.

"Villain," the man says shortly. Impatiently. Shit.

Villain jumped to attention, nerves only growing worse. 

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just-just a little confused. I thought... I was a part of the team..." He tries to keep the heartbreak out of his voice. He doesn't quite succeed. 

"If you'd listen..." the Team Leader sighed deeply. Villain was going to throw up. 

Team Leader began again, speaking slowly as if to a child. Or a stupid person. Villain thinks he fell into the latter column. "I was just saying this will help you better mesh with the team. I'm sure you've noticed people are a little nervous with you around."

Hostile. Villain would use the word hostile.

"Given your past, everything you've done," the man drawled. Villain can't hold back a wince. 

"So, to ease their worries, and allow them to see how great I know you can be, this is just a little precautionary measure. A bit of a show."

Ryan swallowed thickly.

"So... It wouldn't be used..."

He tries to keep himself from thinking about electricity burning the sensitive skin of his throat as it shoots down his spine and into his skull to paralyze him. He's familiar enough with the feeling; he doesn't need to imagine it.

Team Leader gives him an easy smile. "As long as there are no issues, of course not."

"...Issues?"

"Oh, stuff that'll never happen. Just breaking any of the rules."

Villain arched his brow, slightly dubious. "Rules.”

"Yeah, like, follow orders, don't fraternize with any of your old contacts, don't leave our level, don't work unsupervised, don't harm the team. Stuff you've been doing this whole time."

"Wait, don't leave the level?

"I mean, that's pretty obvious, bud. If we can't see you, we can't know that you're following the rest of the rules."

He nods mutely, gaze wandering. this whole thing just. He didn't know. It hurt.

Team Leader gently tilted his head up. "Villain, I'm only doing this because I trust you. I know you'd never do anything that could jeopardize your place here."

He doesn't trust that Villain is a hero though, obviously. That he's good. Because Villain could never be good. Not now. Not after all he's done. 

No, he can only hope to do good. And the only way he'll be able to do that is with the team. If this is what it takes to ease his team into working with him, if this is what it takes for him to stay, then he'll do it.

"O-okay."

"Atta boy, Villain! I knew you could do it, man."

Villain nods, trying to give him a smile.

Team Leader moves towards him all too quickly, and he can't help the flinch. The man doesn't seem to notice—or at least he doesn't acknowledge it—and is soon once again gently tilting Villain's chin up from where it had fallen. 

Villain fights the urge to lean into the touch.

While he's distracted, Team Leader swiftly brings the collar, already disengaged and bent open at the hinges, and presses it to Villain's skin. 

Villain jolts at the cold metal and fights to swallow as it's closed around his neck.

The locking mechanism clicks right up against his spine. He can't help the shudder that trickles down his back at the finality of the sound.

"I'm so proud of you, bud," Team Leader says with a big smile and a ruffle of Villain's shaggy curls.

The tightness in his chest eases, just a little. A little part of him flares in anger at how easily he's comforted. He doesn't deserve the comfort.

But he's trying. The collar now fit snuggly around his neck, like it was made for him, is proof of that.

--------------

ps ex-villain whumpee on the hero team but whumped by the hero team is my all-time favorite trope and it is so hard to find I have finally hit the point of needing to produce my own story to scratch the itch

[dainluvr]

Whumper who sensory deprives Whumpee all the time - apart from when they’re being tortured. So now Whumpee looks forward to their little torture sessions just so they can feel something, anything.

[scumashling]

Just Alcoholic Whumper Things

CONTENT WARNING: Noncon references, alcoholism, forced/coerced intoxication, emotional abuse/manipulation

Whumpee always going hungry because Whumper is spending food money on booze

Whumper who visits Whumpee in their cell after a long night of solo binge drinking

Whumper rapidly shifting between Happy Drunk, Angry Drunk and Sad Drunk during a conversation with Whumpee

Whumper throwing a bottle at the wall and it shattering near Whumpees head

"I'm glad I have you. None of my drinking buddies want to hang out with me anymore."

Whumper forcing Whumpee to drink with them so they'll feel less alone and worthless.

Whumper making Whumpee take shot after shot until they get sick

Alternatively, Whumper manipulating Whumpee into drinking with by playing into the trauma of being Whumped (you've been through so much. You deserve something to take the edge off.)

Whumper telling Whumpee "I like you a lot better when I'm drunk"/"You know, when I'm this drunk, you almost look cute."

Whumpers own trauma getting triggered while drinking, being too wasted to recognize where they are and who they are with, and starts screaming at Whumpee as if Whumpee is their abuser

Whumper sobbing about how lonely they've been while they strip Whumpee, not noticing they are also in tears

The taste of cheap vodka and stale cigarettes in Whumpee's mouth as Whumper sticks their tongue down their throat.

Whumper who loses days on end due to their binge drinking. Whumper never remembering the nights they took advantage of Whumpee. How can you apologize for something you don't remember anyway?

Alternatively, Whumper who does apologize for noncon but claims the booze made them lose control (it will not stop them from drinking)

Whumper drunkenly inviting Whumpee to stay in their room for the night as an apology. Whumpee choosing to sleep on the floor

Whumper relapsing and taking out the rage and shame they feel on Whumpee

Whumpee who cant even stand the sight or smell of booze without being triggered

Alternatively, Whumpee developing their own drinking problem after getting away from Whumper

[distracted-obsessions]

I gotta love the when Whumpee's team meets one of Whumpee's old Whumpers but it's a Carewhumper or a manipulative Whumper that Whumpee views as a minor bother.

The team has to work with Whumper for some reason and the team finds out about their shared past. Maybe Whumpee tells them, maybe Whumper tells them, maybe they're both perfectly forthcoming about everything.

The team hates Whumper for how they treated Whumpee and always ask Whumpee if they need a break from Whumper or tell them that they can make do without Whumper but Whumpee just rolls their eyes and says that Whumper is harmless.

Whumper is far from harmless and the team is very concerned by the fact that Whumpee seems to be mildly annoyed at worst.

The team tries their best to make sure that the two of them are never alone but they keep finding the two of them together in increasingly compromised positions.

Whumper seems increasingly annoyed at being interrupted but Whumpee doesn't seem seem to care either way.

"You can't gaslight me, I know what you sound like when you're gaslighting me." "What’s gaslighting? I don't think that's a thing."

When Whumper finally leaves, the team is ecstatic. Whumpee watches them go with a hint of longing in their eyes.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

T$$ Extra: Staples

cw: abuse/manipulation, noncon touch, vague fear of noncon, Hunter's terrible self worth, painful punishment

Masterlist // takes place the day before this

×~×~×

Vic hovered behind Hunter as he honed his focus on the map on the table, heavy hands settling onto his shoulders and squeezing. The paper in front of him was a mess of a grid. Lines and words and symbols trying to tell him the shape of a building. If he wasn't trying to see past it, maybe he could've made sense of it all, but Vic wanted more than sense.

Can your implant show us which route will be clear tomorrow?

Hunter didn't think so. His head throbbed with the misplacing shapes, with the memories of last night. Vic's hands twisting his shirt, pressing him in place, cuffing his hands and telling him "now wait" as chlorine burned his nose and green leeched past closed eyes.

He would've waited.

He could've fought Sahota, probably. Could've got him to fuck off, but he didn't. His legs carried him away even though his brain knew he was being stupid.

It was what Vic wanted. What happened if Vic knew he'd walked away so easily? If giving up made Vic change his mind?

He saw what it meant for Sahota the next day. Oil slick. A deeper pattern than Sahota gave Hunter when they first met, Vic choking the life out of him.

Had he meant to kill him? No, it would've just been to scare him, to remind him it was Vic in charge. Sahota shouldn't have interfered.

Sahota shouldn't have saved Hunter.

No, fuck that, he hadn't saved him. It wasn't like Vic was planning to choke Hunter out, that was just what Sahota got for breaking the rules. If he hadn't butted in, Hunter would be fine. He'd just... It probably would've hurt, but he'd be fine. He could take it, couldn't Sahota get that? He was so fucking good at taking it.

It wasn't like Sahota's stupid sacrifice did anything anyway.

Here he was.

If Vic wanted something from him, he could take it whenever he wanted.

"See anything?"

Hunter shook his head, breath catching when he tried to speak in a way that didn't betray his memories. "N-no. It's like... Fuck, the implant just thinks it's paper. That's all it sees. Lines on paper."

Vic hummed, green growing duller in disappointment, and even though it wasn't Hunter's fucking fault what the implant did or didn't detect, his chest tightened.

"I can figure it out on the spot," he said. "It doesn't matter what I see now."

"I believe you. You'll do good." Squeeze. "It would've been a valuable skill. Perhaps it can be trained."

Perhaps. But what if it couldn't? If Vic wanted something Hunter couldn't give?

It wasn't his fault. It was just his body, it was just... Him.

"Let's move on to something else."

Vines dipped in and out of his ribcage, twisting around the bones in a way that almost felt painful as he watched Vic cross the room. He didn't...

He had to.

Hunter squeezed his eyes shut against his throbbing skull and tried to breathe deeper. Fuck his lungs, fuck his stupid body, this was fine. Being afraid--- no, nervous, just nervous, it was just new---wouldn't change anything. He wanted this. This was his choice.

But when he looked up, Vic was only holding out a few objects. A bright pink marker, a pencil, a stapler. A neutral green wafting up from the hands that held them.

"We'll warm up with some location drills. Wait outside while I hide these. Let's see if you can find them all in under three minutes."

Hunter left the room with a nod, hating the relief that rose in him. It was only a minute or two before Vic came to get him, pointing him to the center of the room.

"You already saw them," he said, his arms crossed. "Pencil, stapler, highlighter. In that order. Three minutes."

Pencil, stapler, highlighter. Hunter muttered the list under his breath. In order. It was three things, not that hard to remember.

Pencil. He tried to picture it. Lead and wood. He used to chew on the erasers in class. Pencil.

A little trail of shimmering discs spun out towards the wall, and Hunter followed it, blinking away a new wave of ache that was starting behind his eyes. Pencil. It was wedged between the wall and the bookshelf, and he pried it loose, holding it up for Vic to see.

"Good boy."

Even after last night, even after knowing exactly what those words could mean, Hunter couldn't help the feeling that welled inside him. Hearing Vic say that felt good. It felt safe.

He set the pencil on Vic's desk. Okay, now the marker--- no, fuck, stapler. The discs still glittered their way to the pencil, even as he tried to wave them away. He still hadn't learned to shut off a trail. They lingered until they were done, stinging his eyes all the way through.

He tried to ignore them, focusing on the image of the stapler. Black plastic cover, thick rows of metal teeth inside, lining up to bite. After a moment, a new trail of shapes appeared, smaller discs, spikes jutting out of them. One of the drawers.

Hunter stepped forward to open it, snatching the stapler and again holding up his find for Vic.

"One minute," was the only response he got.

Alright, get on it. Marker, marker.

His head hurt. Shapes from the other two still danced around the room, too bright to look at even as they faded, making it harder to find the right trail.

Marker, fuck, marker.

A third trail faded in slow, low to the ground and again directing him towards the wall.

Hunter lowered himself onto his stomach, squinting at the shimmering line. Marker... Under the shelf? If he squinted he could see it. The flash of pink in the shadows.

"That's three."

Hunter froze as Vic dropped to a knee beside him.

"You're getting faster, but you still need practice. Good thing we'll have all the time in the world after this mission."

Rough-skinned hands slipped under his shirt before Hunter could voice his agreement, his promise to try harder. They palmed his lower back before hiking the fabric up, air on his skin.

"You like pain, don't you?"

Did he? "I... I don't know."

"You're very good with it. I think it's admirable."

A burst of petals split his vision a second before the shock of cold metal on his back, a click, the sharp fangs of a staple burrowing into his flesh.

Hunter flinched, hissing, but Vic's palm grew heavier, pressing him into the floor.

"Shhh, that's what I meant. You have so much control over yourself. You take it and keep going." The chlorine smell was back in full force, heavy, settling over Hunter with a strength that almost stung his skin.

Petals, click, teeth, another staple punching into his back.

Vic's thumb ran over the new wound, pulling at the metal there, and Hunter choked back a whimper.

He takes it and keeps going.

"Good boy, just like that." His thumb grazed Hunter's boxers, just barely nudging beneath the hem. "Do you want another one?"

It felt like a trap. Vic wanted a yes. A no would rebel against the picture Vic had of him, the picture of the person he wanted to stay, the person he wanted close, who he had some sort of affection for.

"Yes," Hunter said in a small voice, and petals drifted past him once again. Vic gave him two more, eight stinging punctures lining his lower back, Vic's crotch hot against his thigh. Hunter wished he didn't feel it, didn't feel anything. Everything around him piled up in his head to overwhelm him. The stupid glittering shapes, the throbbing in his head and new sharp pains in his back, Vic's hands, Vic's presence. He squeezed both eyes shut as his handler pulled away, cheek pressed into the floor, pressure everywhere.

He'd been right, before.

Sahota couldn't save him from anything.

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @light-me-on-pyre , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000 , @melpomenelamusa , @what-if-i-just-did

[elisabethrosewrites]

"How much do you care for your Whumpee?" Whumper asked Caretaker in a nonchalant tone.

Caretaker glares viciously at him. "They don't mean anything to me." They tell the boldfaced lie with as much confidence as they can muster.

"Is that so?" Whumper asks, amused this time. "So if for example, I had Whumpee bound and gagged in the back of my car, that would mean nothing to you?"

"Nothing at all," Caretaker replies, the lie hurt but they had to protect Whumpee.

Whumper fixed Caretaker with a calculating stare. "Well then, I suppose I won't be needing them anymore." He lifted his phone to his ear. "Hear that Henchman? You can dispose of the brat now."

Ice rushed into Caretaker's lungs. All their bravado slipping away. "No!" They shouted.

"I thought they meant nothing to you?"

[abhainnwhump]

Whumper, ripping off the last page of their calendar and tossing it to Whumpee's feet: That's another year, darling. And not a single person has found you. Give up, because your friends already did.