#but whumpee is so sad! they have to do something!

[whumpingandsmilinglikeanidiot]

Caretakers that go

um

you're sad, I don't

what should I do

what should I do oh god I'm terrible at comforting people but

hey uh

wanna have some candy??

oh no why are you crying

I'm sorry please don't cry

oh okay um you're welcome

do you want some more??

[shywhumpauthor]

A Whumper with fire powers branding their Whumpee not just with their name or initials, but their handprints.

Two palms scarred against either side of Whumpee’s neck, fingers wrapping around their throat in a collar that can never be removed. Hands on their sides, just below their broken ribs, a touch that will never relent. Fingers wrapped around their wrists in shackles that won’t be unlocked. A handprint against their face, cupping their cheek that had already suffered so many punches. The small of their back. A single hand just between their shoulder blades. Dragging down their thighs.

Just. Branded handprints.

[chiharuuu22]

Whumpee blinked when he felt someone pulling up the blanket. He saw the Team Leader there, smiling at him.

"Sorry to wake you," he said. "Go back to sleep."

Whumpee seemed to circle the room with his eyes because he felt something was missing.

"Where... where is Caretaker?" he asked in a weak voice.

At first glance, Team Leader looked sad, but his expression immediately changed, "She's a little unwell, so I'll be on guard. When she's well, she'll come here."

Whumpee didn't answer and chose to close his eyes again. Team Leader, who felt a little guilty about lying, could only sit beside the bed in silence.

***

"Whumpee is looking for you," said Team Leader to Caretaker who was sitting alone in the dark hospital lobby, handing her bottled tea.

Caretaker did not answer. Her hand accepted the offered drink. Her eyes looked puffy, as if she had been crying for a long time.

Yes, Caretaker just expressed her emotions. The anger, fury, hatred, and disgust she had been holding at Whumper's trial poured out all at once. Had it not been for the Team Leader and other members to be detained, Caretaker would have wanted to kill Whumper right then and there.

How could it not be? It was Whumper who captured Whumpee during their fight, held him hostage for almost a year, subjected him to experiments, and even harassed him. What's more, Whumper records all of it. The recording was also played in court and made many people sick to their stomachs. In fact, the judge also had to pause it several times. Not just Whumpee, but all of Whumper's victims were killed.

Whumpee managed to survive with great difficulty, even taking strong evidence to corner Whumper. Unfortunately, Whumpee also ended up languishing in the hospital and being critical for some time. Victims who survived also had the same condition; some even had mental disorders.

After seeing everything that happened to Whumpee, Caretaker was unable to meet him. Found Whumpee who was still lying weak and still had to be helped with medical equipment, even just to breathe. Caretaker didn't dare imagine what Whumpee was going through.

"Whumpee didn't say anything, but he noticed you were avoiding him," Team Leader sat down next to Caretaker. "He woke up several times and looked like he was looking for you."

"I don't dare go see him. I can't stand what I just saw, let alone Whumpee who experienced it," Caretaker spoke in a trembling voice. "I'll definitely cry if I see him."

Team Leader sighed, "At least he's safe and still has his sanity. I know you two need each other, and now Whumpee really needs you by his side."

Caretaker downed her drink.

"Go meet him; Whumpee will be very happy to see you." Team Leader patted Caretaker's shoulder to encourage her.

Caretaker nodded.

***

Whumpee woke up again when he felt something soft and cold touch his cheek. His eyes widened slightly when he found the Caretaker beside him stroking his cheek with affection.

"The Leader said you weren't feeling well. Are you sick? Are you okay?" Whumpee asked and slowly trying to get out the sound he managed to muster, his hand reaching for Caretaker's face. "Are you crying? Why?"

Caretaker started to feel a pinch in her heart; she wanted to cry again. "I'm okay. Just... just a little tired. Don't worry. I'm feeling better too; that's why I came here. Why? Miss me?"

Whumpee flashed a weak smile and said, "Yeah. Very."

Caretaker chuckled softly and said, "Don't worry. I'll be beside you."

Whumpee actually realized why Caretaker was acting like that. Whumpee knows today is Whumper's court, and he already expects that the indictment and evidence will be shown there.

"I'm sorry," said Whumpee.

"Why apologize? You didn't do anything wrong," Caretaker kissed Whumpee's forehead gently. "Go to sleep. You need it."

Whumpee squeezed Caretaker's hand. Just for that alone, Whumpee felt safe.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumper came down the stairs and glanced at Whumpee.

"Come on, you smell horrible", Whumper stood at the bottom step.

"Yes Master", Whumpee worked to stand up. Their small naked frame shook with the exertion of moving. They fell forward, but caught themself.

Whumper watched them semi concerned, "you okay?"

"Um yes Master, just a little weaker than normal", Whumpee limped toward them, "think I'm a little cold, that's all."

"Mmm-hmm, so you get two options for bathing today. Option one, a warm bath with some medical attention, but you do not get a meal tonight. Option two, you get cleaned by the hose outside, but I'll give you a nice meal for dinner."

"Uhm, may I have a warm bath", Whumpee followed Whumper up the stairs.

"Yes you may, that was a fast decision", Whumper started to walk to the bathroom.

"Yes Mas-master it's cold downstairs, so I think it's cold outside", Whumpee watched as Whumper prepared the tub, they glanced at the toilet.

"You're right it is cold outside", Whumper started the bath.

"Master you said I was right", Whumpee gleamed.

"Yes, I guess I did. You're right occasionally", Whumper grinned.

"Master may I use the toilet instead of the bucket", Whumpee looked at the toilet again.

"Go ahead", Whumper watched them.

"Alright, try not to make too much of a mess, and enjoy.... it... hold on", Whumper noticed something.

Whumpee froze as they had just gotten into the water.

"I'm sorry Master did I do something that made you unhappy", Whumpee worried, 'was this all a joke', Whumpee thought to themself.

Whumpee's skin quivered as Whumper felt around their back.

"No, I think you have an infection on your back", Whumper frowned, "I'll take care of it when I do your medicine."

"Yes Master", Whumpee lowered into the water and exhaled a sigh of relief.

Later Whumpee waited for Whumper in the living room.

Whumper had already finished medical treatment and decided to trim Whumpee's nails.

Whumper came out carrying a steaming bowl of something that caused Whumpee to drool.

Whumper set it on the coffee table in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee didn't dare look at it, but they savored the smell.

'I don't get dinner tonight', Whumpee reminded themself, 'I chose this.'

Whumper sat on the couch and pulled out their phone.

"You can eat that if you like", Whumper didn't pay any mind to Whumpee.

"Master you said I didn't get any dinner", Whumpee sat up on their knees to get closer.

"I know, but that infection on your back is pretty bad. I think your body is weak because of it. It would be better to give it sustenance to help", Whumper watched Whumpee sniff at the bowl.

"You going to eat it?", Whumper frowned.

"I'm sorry Master it smells so good", Whumpee looked at Whumper, "I appreciate this."

"You're welcome, now eat it."

Whumpee almost fell over with how good the food tasted. 'I haven't had warm food in so long and I had a warm bath today even', Whumpee smiled to themself. It made them feel almost human again.... they didn't dare tell Whumper that though.

"I'll get you some better medicine tomorrow when I go out", Whumper eyed the infection again as Whumpee ate, "hopefully we'll get that under control."

Whumpee looked up happily.

When done, Whumpee followed Whumper down to the basement again.

"Why are you acting sad?", Whumper frowned, "I did more for you than I originally intended."

"Yes Master, I apologize. I enjoyed being upstairs with you", Whumpee looked at Whumper sadly, "I'm lonely down here."

"I have one more surprise down here for you", Whumper pointed, "but this is where you stay. Right?"

"Yes Master", Whumpee looked at where Whumper pointed and saw a blanket waiting for them.

They limped quickly to the blanket, "is this for me?"

"Yes for right now at least", Whumper turned to go back up, "don't make me regret my kindness to you."

"Master, thankyou so much", Whumpee looked up at them with a smile.

"Yep", Whumper called from the top of the stairs.

At the sound of the lock, Whumpee pulled the blanket over themself and cuddled into it. They limped to a corner of the room and laid down.

The next day, Whumpee overheard Whumper leaving.

They hadn't seen Whumper yet, so Whumper hadn't taken the blanket away yet.

Whumpee was going to soak in all of the warmth they could.

Whumper now stood in the medicine aisle, looking at all of the options available.

"Sorry, I'm coming beside you", someone stepped closer and grabbed something, "got an infection?"

"My friend does, they're not able to make it into see a doctor right now. I thought I'd help them out. I had no idea there were so many medications though", Whumper frowned.

"Coming from a doctor I suggest they get into see one, but these should help hold them over until they can", the person grabbed something off the shelf, "I always recommend these to my patients."

"You're a doctor huh?", Whumper reached for the products, "thankyou so much, I appreciate this."

"Yes the names Caretaker", they reached a hand out.

"Whumper", they extended their hand for a handshake.

"If your friend needs a doctor, here is my card", Caretaker offered a business card.

"Thankyou", Whumper felt the wheels spinning in their head.

During the next week Whumper watched Caretaker, he knew their routines perfectly.

The medicine that was recommended had cleared up Whumpee's infection perfectly.

"Master, I feel so much better", Whumpee smiled as Whumper applied more medicine to the infected area.

"It definitely looks better", Whumper studied Whumpee's backside, "I'm glad."

"So I'm going out for a drive tonight again", Whumper stood and started to go to the stairs, "what does that mean for you?"

"I am to be good Master", Whumpee smiled up at Whumper, while trying not to draw attention to the blanket that was still down there.

"Good Whumpee", Whumper turned to go, but eyed the blanket, making Whumpee's heart sink.

"Are you enjoying having a blanket?", Whumper turned to them.

"Y-yes Master", Whumpee nodded.

"Good", Whumper sighed as they walked to the stairs, "I'll see you later."

Whumpee cuddled into the blanket after Whumper had left. They were careful not to let it touch the medicine, Whumper would punish them harshly if they messed it up.

Whumper watched Caretaker leave the office and get into their car.

Whumper followed Caretaker to a store they often frequented.

On the way out Caretaker found his path blocked by a car, then noticed his car was on fire.

Before he knew it, he was pushed into the car and they were speeding off from the scene.

"What is the meaning of thi....?", Caretaker was met with a gun, "who are you?"

Whumper had hidden most of their face with a mask.

"Place your phone in your bag and put everything in the backseat", Whumper commanded.

Caretaker sighed as they followed orders.

"Are my things back here? You broke into my car?", Caretaker frowned.

"How do you think your car caught fire", Whumper handed over a set of handcuffs, "put these on, hands behind your back."

Caretaker frowned as a firetruck sped by, "you are twisted."

Whumper chuckled, "you have no idea."

Whumpee heard Whumper crash through the door, and force open the bars that locked the basement.

"Oh no, they're mad", they pulled blanket closer trying to get every ounce of warmth before it was taken away.

Whumper came down the stairs, but someone was with them.

"Whumpee I've solved your loneliness issues, and your medical issues", Whumper announced as they guided the person to a kneeling position, "I can't take you to the doctor, so I brought one to you."

Whumper yanked off a blindfold they had forced onto Caretaker.

Caretaker looked around and locked eyes with Whumpee.

"Where am I?", Caretaker then glanced up at Whumper, "you?"

"Yes, you should really be careful with your personal information", Whumper chuckled, "you never know what someone is capable of."

Whumper unlocked the handcuffs, "if you move before I am at the top of the stairs you'll regret it. Am I clear?"

"Yes", Caretaker felt his throat tighten, this couldn't be happening right.

The bars slammed shut, clearing Caretaker to move.

They stood and quickly went up the stairs.

"It's locked", they came back down and eyed Whumpee.

"How long have you been here? Are you a captive too?", Caretaker frowned.

"I've been here a long time.... yes", Whumpee nodded, "if I may give you some advice."

Caretaker frowned, but nodded.

"Listen and do what they ask, or you'll look like me", Whumpee wasn't brave enough to pull off the blanket yet.

Caretaker sat down in the corner across the room, "I-I'm sorry, I need a little bit to think about what just happened."

Whumpee nodded, "okay", they whispered.

After a while, Whumpee noticed that Caretaker was shivering. They still had clothes on, but it was still pretty cold down their.

Whumpee looked down at their coveted blanket.

'I'm more use to this down here, than they are', Whumpee weakly stood and cautiously carried the blanket over.

Caretaker turned quickly when they felt the blanket cover them.

They looked up and watched Whumpee limp back to their spot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were naked under their. Please take this back, you'll catch a cold", Caretaker started to get up.

"No please, it's okay", Whumpee whispered, "I'm more used to it down here than you are. We don't always get a blanket down here."

Caretaker frowned, "what have they done to you?"

"I don't really want to talk about what I've been through", Whumpee looked down at their beaten body.

"Okay, I'm sorry", Caretaker sighed.

"Hey Whumpee", Whumper called from upstairs.

Whumpee got up as quickly as they could and went to the stairs.

"Yes master?", Whumpee limped up a few steps.

"Catch these", Whumper tossed down two bottles of water and another blanket, "I'm going to bed, don't be up too late."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou so much Master."

Whumpee handed Caretaker a water bottle.

"This blanket is probably cleaner than that one if you want to switch", Whumpee showed the blanket off.

"It looks thicker though, you use it", Caretaker gave a weak smile, "if you like, I'll give you a full checkup tomorrow, I can't imagine the last time you've seen a doctor."

"It's been a while", Whumpee sat down again, "I take it you were the doctor Whumper said recommended the medication I've been getting."

"Yes that was me", Caretaker nodded.

"Thankyou so much, I didn't feel good. I feel better now", Whumpee smiled, "Master says my back is better as well."

"That's good, I'm glad it helped", Caretaker watched Whumpee curl up on the floor.

"I hope it's okay, I'm quite tired", Whumpee yawned.

"I'll probably turn in soon to", Caretaker sighed. "I guess I don't have much of a choice right now."

Whumpee nodded, before resting their head on the floor, "goodnight, um doctor."

"Goodnight", Caretaker felt their heart ache.

'How long have you been here, and no one knew?', Caretaker thought to themself, 'the world went on, and you've been in the basement of a madman.'

Whumpee stretched out as they made happy sighs.

"I'll take care of you, and I'll get us out of this... somehow", Caretaker whispered, "I promise."

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 @thebejeweledwatercat

[whumpshaped]

been spinning this idea around in the microwave that is my brain for a while now.

pet/slave/etc whumpee being rescued, seemingly improving and going along with what caretaker asks of them, and then immediately bolting and returning to their master the moment they get the chance.

they feel sorta bad for caretaker, but ultimately where they belong is at their master's side. whumpee's life was miserable and empty before they found them, but with master they were fed, had a warm place to sleep, and were shown more affection than they'd ever experienced before.

whumper, who in this specific scenario is more like a carewhumper/soft whumper, wanting to keep whumpee as their pet/slave but otherwise not being cruel to them, is of course elated to have whumpee back, lavishing them with praise and love and affection, further cementing in whumpee's mind that this is where they belong.

tw pet whump, conditioned whumpee, stockholm syndrome, caretaker new master, betrayal, abandonment

When Whumpee caught a glimpse of the article, it was like colour had suddenly returned into their world. Like the storm clouds had parted and finally allowed the sun to shine through, making all their worries and sadness dissipate.

All charges dropped.

Caretaker seemed to have the opposite reaction, throwing the newspaper across the room and groaning in frustration. Whumpee flinched, alerting them to their presence. “Oh, shit… Whumpee, I’m sorry. I didn’t– fuck, did you see the article?”

Whumpee suppressed their eagerness and slowly nodded, attempting to keep their expression neutral. Whatever Caretaker had interpreted it as, it made them open their arms for a hug.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Would you like a hug? Or… or would you like to talk about it?”

Oh, they wanted to talk about it more than anything, but they doubted what they had to say would’ve been to Caretaker’s liking. They accepted the hug anyway, holding their temporary owner tight for what was probably the last time.

“You did your best,” Caretaker whispered. “I’m so sorry that… that they’re a bunch of incompetent idiots there! You gave all that evidence, all those testimonies… I don’t get it… I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s not talk about it?” Whumpee hoped that was a reasonable request. They hated hearing about all the ways in which they’d betrayed Whumper, but they hoped their reasoning wouldn’t be readily apparent.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I got carried away.” Caretaker took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, and Whumpee had the feeling this hug was more for their friend than it was for them. “You wanna do something tonight? As a little distraction? We could make those new cookies you found a recipe for. Or watch a movie.”

Whumpee pulled away so they could look Caretaker in the eye. “Would you mind if… if I went for a little walk?”

Caretaker hesitated. “Can it be another time?” they asked cautiously. “I don’t like putting restrictions on you, I really don’t, it’s just…”

“Okay,” they said without knowing what Caretaker was going to say. “Another time.”

They could seek out Whumper any time, right? The sooner the better, but they didn’t need Caretaker following them.

“I’m a little nervous about letting you out of my sight after news like this,” they finished anyway.

“Okay,” Whumpee repeated.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.”

Caretaker smiled and pulled them in for another hug. “Alright. Thank you.”

-

It was two days later when Caretaker finally let them go. It was honestly a little heartbreaking to know they would never go back, but… It couldn’t even compare to that time the police had swarmed the building and took Whumper away from them.

Whumper had been their everything. Their best friend. Their owner. The only one who cared. The one who had always provided for them, food, shelter, love. It didn’t matter what others had told them — they had to get back. And now that Whumper was finally let go, they could.

They kept looking over their shoulder, hoping Caretaker really wasn’t following them. They weren’t. They were left to their own devices, and they were about to betray every morsel of trust Caretaker had placed in them.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of getting back to Whumper. Whumper was the only one whose trust counted for anything.

They rushed back to the house they’d used to stay in, and the ugly police tape was finally gone. It looked just like the first time they’d seen it: friendly and inviting.

Whumpee walked up to the door and knocked before their anxiety could’ve gotten the better of them. They stepped back and waited, rocking back and forth on their feet, shifting their weight from heels to tiptoes.

The garden seemed a little neglected, but it looked like Whumper had gotten to work since their release. There were fresh seeds in the bird feeder, and fresh water in the bowl they used for any stray creature that might’ve needed a sip. They were so caring. It was ridiculous that any investigation had even been conducted.

The door opened, and Whumpee’s eyes snapped up to meet their owner’s. They jumped into their arms without thinking, burying their face in the crook of their neck. “Master, you’re free!” they exclaimed, delighted when Whumper’s arms closed around their waist.

“I’m free!” Whumper parroted, just as giddy as their pet. “And you’re back!”

“Of course I am! I missed you so much!”

Whumper brought them inside without letting go, pushing the door shut with their foot. “I missed you too, sweet thing. I’m not quite packed yet, but now that you’re here, I’ll try to make it quick so we can leave tomorrow.”

Whumpee pulled away, frowning a little. “Leave?”

“Of course. They’d never leave us alone if we were to stay; not the police, and definitely not Caretaker.” Whumper moved their hands to cup their pet’s cheeks, smiling at them softly. “We’ll go somewhere peaceful, hm?”

Well… When they’d left the house and told themself it’d be forever, that they’d never see Caretaker again, that they were ready to leave all of this behind… They didn’t think it’d be so permanent. So irreversible.

They didn’t think they’d have to leave Caretaker so far behind.

Some of the cookies they’d baked the night before were still waiting for them at home, soft and sweet and tasting of friendship.

“I’d love that,” Whumpee said with a smile of their own. “We can go whenever you’re ready, Master.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

All We Have Is Each Other

CW: Intimate whumper, captivity, defiant whumpee, biting, creepy whumper, obsessive whumper, noncon kiss, vague noncon references, drugging. For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 1: Duel

The Motherfucking Gallaghers Masterlist

Takes place during Jax’s second captivity. As always, Jax is used with oversight and permission from @comfy-whumpee)

-

Savvie rolls dice every time she uses the mortar and pestle in the kitchen to grind up one of her collections of pills and mix it into Jax’s drink.

She’s always gambling with the drugs. The first part of the game is seeing whether he’ll drink it before he realizes there’s something in it. If she doesn’t mix it well enough, he’ll see the cloudy bits floating around in the glass and look at her with terrible sad eyes. Sometimes she can’t take it. She just takes the drink right back out of his hand and pours it out, makes him a new one. 

Other the other hand, sometimes his sad voice and sad eyes piss her off worse than anything else could, and she just tips it up until he chokes and makes him finish it anyway. Or shocks him, pressing the button to the remote and watching his muscles lock up, knowing he’ll look sweeter once he’s fighting the way his muscles jerk afterward, the unconscious twitches he can’t quite get rid of as the aftermath works its way through him. 

Sometimes he even looks scared. Those nights are some of her favorites. Savvie never loves Jax as much as she does when he is scared of her. 

But... she can’t keep him scared all the time. What kind of marriage would they have if she did that? No, the drinks aren’t to scare him, they’re just to make… to make things easier. And she doesn’t always do it! She doesn’t always drug him, but it’s enough that he never trusts her. She knows that. He doesn’t… trust easily. 

That’s okay. 

Their relationship got off to a rough start, that’s all, what with Jax starting off as one of the staff, bought and paid for. Plus, Jax’s dad convinced him Savvie was evil, once upon a time when he ran away from her. Taught him to hate her. She had to have her uncle fly all the way to England to bring Jax back, and it’s taking years to undo all the damage that stupid old man did. 

That’s okay. He’s getting better, he’s definitely getting better. He is. He has to be getting better. 

Still… he’s not an easy man to be married to. Not with having to keep an eye on the remote to his shock collar so he can’t take it off and try to run away again, not with the way he watches her sometimes like he wants to dunk her head into the toilet and hold it there until she drowns. Putting stuff in his drink just lets Savvie be able to relax. 

She doesn’t have to worry about what he might do when he’s so high he can’t do much of anything. Besides, it’s only like one out of every ten nights, sometimes twenty, sometimes she even goes for a month or two without doing it. 

She really doesn’t even want to. If he would just learn to be happy without it, she wouldn’t have to keep drugging him, would she? If he’d just stop being so difficult about being her husband… but that isn’t fair. He can’t be any better than he is, not really. Jax just… isn’t wired that way.

So she has to help him a little, to make it so he can have nights when he can’t stay mad at her. Or at least nights when his anger isn’t able to simmer in there behind his eyes while he says Yes, Miss Savvie or No, Miss Savvie like there’s a gun to his head. 

Still. Trying to give him these evenings where both of them just relax… it’s always a gamble. 

Even if he drinks whatever she makes without realizing it’s spiked, he doesn’t always react the same way. If she’s lucky - if her dice rolls well - the drugs make Jax… softer. He’ll lean against her when some of his strength slides away, not seek out touch but loathe it less. Those are the nights she can coax a sound out of him that isn’t clipped or tense. She still thinks about the night she gave him a back rub and he genuinely fell asleep sitting on the floor between her knees, his head drifting until it rested on her leg, the knots of tension slowly loosening beneath her kneading hands until she got distracted by the movie and forgot what she was doing. 

Sometimes he smiles, when he’s blurry and unfocused. Smiles, enough to show teeth even… God, sometimes he even laughs at some of Savvie’s jokes. It’s rare, but it happens. She loves those nights the best. Those are the nights that their marriage almost feels normal… if she just ignores the dilated pupils and the way he can’t stand up on his own. 

Sometimes he gets so foggy he can’t stop laughing, which is irritating but at least adorable to watch and take videos of to make him look at later on the next day when he sobers up again. Sometimes the side effects make him too scared to smile, his eyes darting nervously everywhere watching the movements of shadows he swears are watching him. She… tries not to give him those pills anymore.

The nights tend to end with her telling him to take off his shirt so she can enjoy the view, or even his pants, too. She usually waits on that, though, because it doesn’t matter how good the drugs are - he always hesitates when it comes to taking off his pants, as soon as his fingers touch the boxers with their oddly rolled waistband. 

It reminds him he doesn’t want to be here. Makes his addled mind come back to the collar he wears around his neck, to the reality of the life they’re living, the marriage Savvie has built all by herself whether he wanted to or not.

And he… he didn’t want to. 

So normally she waits on the getting naked bit until they’re in the bedroom and what he wants matters so much less that neither of them think about it any longer. The drugs, at least, make it harder for him to slow her down in there. 

Savvie tries not to think about that, because she doesn’t remember it that way. She likes the nights best where he doesn’t even try to fight, just lets her pull him upstairs and she gets to bury her hands in his hair and tell him what to do and have him, languid and loose-limbed, follow every command without the tension and misery he usually carries into their bed. 

She doesn’t always roll well. 

Sometimes, she rolls snake eyes… and she gets this, instead.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jax groans, words slurring around the edges, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He pushes clumsily away from her, nearly falling off the couch before he manages to catch himself. “For… f’r fuck’s sake, Savvie, what the fuck.”

His wedding ring glints, light from the TV bouncing off the deceptively plain platinum band. She’s hit all over again with a wave of love for him, for the life she’s built after he was brought back home to be hers forever, just like he always should have been. She’d been an idiot not to see it, not until he was gone and she spent years in prison dreaming about getting him back. 

“Fuck’s sake what?” She asks, voice light, smiling at him and poking him in the shoulder where they sit on the couch. 

He doesn’t slap her hand away, but she sees him look at her and… he wants to. His expression is dark. The light is bouncing off his hazel eyes, too, giving them a strange sheen of white that wipes out the color, obscures even his dilated pupils slowly taking over the iris. “What the fuck was it?”

“What was what?”

“What the fuck did you give me?” He goes to push himself to standing only to have his knees buckle beneath him, crashing him to the floor, barely catching himself on his hands. Savvie’s mouth waters, and she swallows, trying to ignore the flutter of fascinated interest in watching his fingernails scrape the rug as he tries to steady himself. “What the fuck is it, Savvie?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She answers, without changing her own tone, leaning forward with her arms resting on her thighs. Her hair falls in heavy waves down her back and over her shoulders. “It’s not anything that could hurt you.”

This time, he doesn't say Miss Savvie or try out the sad eyes. Instead, he looks away. She can nearly hear his teeth grinding. “Yeah, but once I’m all fucked up, you will.”

“Don’t be rude,” Savvie chides him, but she doesn’t move. He looks good, on his hands and knees on the floor. Well, he looks good all the time, really, but he looks even better on his hands and knees. She knows the physique he’s built with the workout routine she makes him do, knows the muscles there hidden beneath the green sweater and jeans he’s wearing. “You’ve been stressed all week. I’m just trying to help-”

“Fucking shit, the hell you are!” He manages to sit back on his knees, then collapses back until his back hits the edge of the couch cushions, upright through sheer force of will and a bit of good luck. His hands lay limp at his sides, now. When he turns to look at her, his eyes don’t focus quite right - but the fury in them is clear.

Well.

Tonight’s not going to be the best night for them, then, she supposes. She feels the edge of a headache starting up, and sighs, looking mournfully at the movie she’d pulled up for them to watch. Another night, then. A night when the gamble pays off and doesn’t backfire. A night when he can’t remember how to be angry at her.

“Fine,” She says, heavily. “I’m not trying to help you. I’m trying to help me.”Her own voice changes - drops almost a full octave from her usual carefully constructed diction and sweetness to something sharper. “I’m making tonight easier on me. Making you less… less-” She can't think of a good way to end the sentence, so she just lets it hang there between them. 

Jax snorts, looking away again. His head keeps lolling forward until his chin nearly touches his chest before he jerks it back again. “Yeah, I fucking know,” He manages, but his slurring is getting worse. “Shit f’r brains.”

Savvie sniffs, but the fake tears aren't coming as easily as they usually do. She probably accidentally gave him too much again. It’s just sometimes so hard to remember exactly how much the dose is supposed to be…

“I don’t enjoy you being cruel to me any more than you enjoy it when I do it to you, you know,” She says, suddenly… so tired. She spends so much time and effort creating a marriage herself out of a man her uncle bought for her once and abducted for her the second time, and she’s doing this all on her own - no one helps her, not really. And Jax never gives up.

She’d been sure he’d start to settle in and understand by now, but he just… he just doesn’t. And she’s so tired. Her fingers toy with the little black remote to his shock collar. Maybe she should just… just give up on having a good night and punish him for the cursing until he just bites off his stupid tongue. 

No, wait. 

She likes what he does with his tongue, when she gives the order. He’s so good with it now. Maybe… maybe just a small shock. Just to remind him he's hers. She takes a deep breath. “Jax… get on your-”

“On m’knees f’r discipline?” He starts laughing before she can finish, cutting her off, letting his head fall totally back against the arm of the couch until he’s staring at the ceiling. He sounds wild, almost like an animal. Her quiet watchful husband is feral, and Savvie resolves never to give him the pill she gave him tonight ever again. “Yeah, fucking… fuckin’ do it. Second I don’t play along, there y’go. Bzzzt.” He cackles, a cracked bark of laughter she’s never heard him make before. “Shut me up so you don’t hear me say it.”

Savvie’s heart twists. “Say what?”

The laughter dies in him as suddenly as it appeared. He turns his head, or tries to - it mostly just falls to one side until he’s looking at her. Their eyes meet, his all black pupil and hers with nearly no pupil at all. “How much I fucking hate your fucking guts.”

“You don’t hate me.” She says it firmly, as if he’s being ridiculous. “Don’t be mean, Jax. You don’t hate me at all.”

She takes a deep breath. Married couples have fights, even ugly ones sometimes, and they work it out-

“Yeah. I… I really do.” Disgusted, that’s the tone in his voice. Disgusted with her. “I do. I hate you.”

“Why do you hate me?”

The look he gives her is such a blatant are you a complete fucking moron that she can hear his voice even though he doesn’t say a word. 

“No, hold on.” She waves one hand, dismissing her own question. His eyes briefly follow the movements of her fingers, distracted by whatever the drugs make him see there. Trails of light, maybe. It’s probably beautiful. “Hold on. I know why-”

“Do you?” His question is sharp, snapped, even as his every muscle can barely tense enough to move. “Do you fuckin’ really?”

“Yes. I do.” Savvie’s too tired to talk him in a circle tonight. She’s just… too exhausted by her bad gamble, bringing neither the snuggly Jax or the scared one, but this angry, vengeful animal instead.

Her headache is getting worse. 

She grabs her glass of wine off the coffee table and chugs it so fast a little drip escapes the corner of her mouth and runs down her chin. She has to wipe it away, wincing at the… at the idea of how that looks. Her mother would have had a fit about it. If she hadn’t died years ago. “Because I had you kidnapped.” 

Jax is silent, for a beat. He squints at her. “Fuck… what’d you say? Might be hearin’ shit.” 

She laughs, softly. Not her usual laughter, crafted to fill up a room and put all eyes on her. This laugh is barely there, but far more genuine. “No. You're not hallucinating, that shouldn't happen with what I gave you tonight.”

“Oh, good, not this fucking drugging, then, jussss-” His head falls too far to one side and he forces it back up, groaning. “Jusss… others.”

“Only one of the pills does that. And you were cute when you thought there were monsters in the bathroom.” She gets that flat stare from him again and this time she can't hold eye contact, looking down and away, still fiddling with the remote to his collar. “I just. I do know what I did, Jax.”

“Yeah, I fucking know you know-”

“I had you kidnapped.” She takes a deep breath. It feels oddly good to say, like a scene in a movie confessing to a priest. A foul-mouthed priest she’s been sleeping with for over a year. The thought makes her smile, just a little. “My uncle had people watching you, and when I was ready, he knew where you’d be and he abducted you for me. I know that. I know that you’d run, if you could. I’d take your collar off right now if I thought you’d stay without wearing it.”

Jax is silent for so long she briefly wonders if he's flat out forgotten how to talk. Then he shrugs - or tries to, his arms don't quite follow his commands. “You’d find somethin’ else, some other reason for shit ‘round my neck. You fuckin’ like it.”

For the first time, she doesn't deny it. “I do.” She laughs at the way he looks almost comically surprised, unable to keep his usual closed-off expressions in place with the drug coursing through his veins. “What? Can't a girl have a kink?”

“Sure fuckin’ can, but you… you don' have a kink, you got… goddamn victims.”

“... I… yeah. But it-... that's not my point. It isn't about the collar, Jax. Your wedding ring does it for me, too. I could barely wait to get you home after we signed the marriage certificate.”

The glare is back. His hatred is blistering her skin. She watches him try to stand, making it nearly upright before he falls back down again with a heavy thump. 

Her mouth twitches. “You want help, sweetie?”

“Ffffuck you.” 

“Well, I mean, if you’re asking so nicely.” She giggles at her own joke. 

He mumbles something she can't quite hear, trying to stand one more time but quickly giving up. He makes it onto the couch, at least. Savvie stands, turning to grab his ankles, shifting so he’s lying on his back, head and feet each cushioned by the arms of the comfortable, overstuffed couch. He struggles weakly, and it's hard work, but she gets him where she wants him. She barely breathes, taking in his chest rising and falling under his sweater, how his inhales are coming more sharply. 

She can't help herself. 

Savvie climbs on top of him, like she’s done a hundred times. She straddles him, sitting on his hips and leaning down to kiss his neck, nosing under his jaw. At first, his head tips back in resignation - but then he curses and pushes at her weakly instead. “Don’t.”

She grabs his wrists and shoves them above his head. He’s so weak, the drugs have taken all that muscle and made them… useless at holding her off. There’s a shiver of excitement down her spine. “Uh-uh, sweetie. You’re the one who said to fuck you, remember?”

She feels a thrill at saying fuck, like she’s still a kid sneaking swears in her room when her parents won’t overhear. 

“Don't,” He groans. “Sav-... Savvie, stop. G’t off me. I hate you.”

“I know.” She smiles down at him. His eyes meet hers, tired and bleary. Furious and almost resigned. “I know you hate me, Jax… but I love you.”

She leans down, her hair a waterfall curtain, blocking them both off from the world. She can smell the cologne she buys for him, blended with her own pricey perfume. His wrists jerk against her grip and she digs her nails in until he grunts in pain and the skin gives beneath. 

“Savvie,” he whispers. 

“Sssshhh.” She lets go with one hand, shifting both his wrists to her other one, and presses a finger against his lips. “I love you so much,” She whispers. “And I don't need you to love me back, sweetie, I don’t. I just need you to lie for me.”

 She kisses him, then, pressing her lips firmly to his. For half a second, his mouth is slack and unresisting even as his body shudders with disgust. He’s warm, his skin burning up beneath her. Her mouth moves against his, trying to get him to answer her, to open up.

His lips gently part. For a brief moment, Savvie feels the rush of victory.

Then he bites.

Pain blooms in a sudden flare as his teeth bury themselves into her lower lip and he jerks his head to the side, sensitive skin tearing.

“Shit!” Savvie jerks backwards, staring down at him wide-eyed. She can taste her own blood in her mouth. It’s smeared on his lips and his teeth like badly-done lipstick as he gives her a smile that's really a snarl. “Oh my God, Jax-... how dare you-”

“Fuck you! Don't fucking touch me!” He gets his arms more or less under his own control and shoves her off of him. She crashes into the coffee table, the legs giving out, tumbling her to the floor. Pain spikes hot and demanding along her hip where she hits the hard angle of the corner and she finds herself the one lying on the floor, while Jax slowly sits up, wiping blood off his lips. 

Her blood. 

Savvie pulls her fingers from her mouth and gasps. There’s a smear of red, bright and vibrant, the unmistakable sense of blood trickling down over her chin. She tongues at the wound, then winces as the pain flares bright, like he’s bitten her all over again. She considers tears - looks at the loathing in his eyes, the absolute rage written in the lines of his face - and then decides they’re wasted on him tonight. Instead, she just shakes her head. “That hurt.”

“Good. Don' like bein’ the one fucking bleeding for once, huh?” His eyes drift closed. He struggles to open them again, to keep his eyes on her. “Shit feelin’, isn't it?” 

“God.” She swallows. Blood on her tongue is making her feel nauseous and she gets to her feet carefully. Her mouth and hip throb. She’s going to be so bruised tomorrow, going to ache so much. “You’re awful sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He grins. He hasn't bothered to try and get the red off his teeth. “I know. So… so fffffuckin’ get rid of me, then.”

Savvie snorts, limping a little as she moves to pick up the spilled wine bottle from the floor. She could shock him now - that’s what she would usually do. Or call Isaac and have him carted off to spend another month locked in the kennels with the dogs. He… probably doesn’t care about that, though. Anything to get away from her. Anything is better than her, to him.

“Get rid of you?” She drinks the last swallow in the bottle, washing blood down her throat with the wine. “Then what, Jax? I should just… live here alone, without you, for the rest of my life?”

“Fucking-... yes, or go fucking die. I don't fucking care.” The flush of hot anger bleeds away, his voice softening a little. “I don't… don' care, Savvie. I don’t care about you.”

“No. You do.” She feels a burst of desperation to make him understand. “You hate me, right? That’s caring about me, still.”

“Savvie-”

“No. I love you. You are mine, and I am keeping you. This is love, Jax. What I feel for you is true love.” 

He shakes his head, swaying a little where he sits. He tries to push her away again as she takes him by the arm but his burst of energy seems to have used him up. He lets her, in the end, get him onto his feet. She leads him on his unsteady legs out of the room, and he stumbles along with her. 

“S'not love,” He mumbles. She keeps an arm around his waist to help him balance. “Fucking… fuck you. Let me leave, Savvie.”

He doesn't have the strength to push her away, not anymore. He has to use her to stay up as they take the stairs one at a time, although after three or four he jerks away again and uses the railing, leaning heavily against it as he drags himself upwards, inch by inch, step by step. 

She lets him pull away, watching his determination to not need her, how badly he doesn’t even want her. There’s a canyon inside of her, something dark and deep that hurts so much worse than her hip or her torn open lower lip, threatening to claw its way out as she watches the man she has forced to play the role of her husband do anything he can to avoid her touch. 

Her jaw sets. “It is. It is love, and you know what? It’s all the love you’re going to get. Ever. No one else will ever love you.” Savvie’s voice stays low. “You’re not… you’re not lovable, Jax, but I don’t care, I love you anyway. Nobody else would. No one is ever going to even want to love you but me.”

He slumps. The fight’s all gone out of him, for now. Her gamble failed tonight and Jax is buckling under the weight of what runs through his veins, the heavy expectations in her eyes and her smile and her devotion. 

“Fuck,” is all he says, barely a whisper under his breath.

Savvie sighs, touching her fingers to her lip again. The bleeding has slowed but there’s still a spot of red. “Goes both ways, though, I think.”

He doesn't look at her. “What?”

“This… how much you hate me… how I had to kidnap you, and put that thing on your neck to keep you here, how you wish you were anywhere but here with me… you know, I, I get it.”

He has to stop at the landing and lean over, resting his forehead against the wall. 

She lays a hand on his back, leaning over to speak right against his ear. “I get that your hate is all the love I’m going to get, too, Jax. Nobody else will ever love me, either.” 

Her throat feels tight, and she can’t tell if she really feels the twisting nerves in her stomach, the sense of dread, or if it’s part of her act for Jax. Sometimes even Savvie isn’t sure when she means the things she says. Sometimes, even worse, she really does.

“All we’re ever going to have is each other.”

He doesn’t answer her. But when she takes his arm in her hand, he allows himself to be dragged along towards her bedroom. The fight might be gone, but so is the feeling. There’s nothing in his eyes that shows he even heard her.

That’s okay. She can be honest, in the dark, in the middle of the night, knowing that he’s too drugged to remember anything she said when he wakes up again. She’ll lie to herself again by morning. So will he.

She just needs him to lie. 

-

@whumpyourdamnpears consider this my evil savvie gift to you

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Whump Prompts: Recovery

Content: Recovery, murder, abuse, captivity, [implied] past minor whump, restraints, [mentioned] vivisections, branding, conditioning, muzzles, past non con.

Whumpee recovering from the trauma stemming from, not only all the abuse they went through, but the fact that they had to murder their abuser to get away from them.

Whumpee finally getting to experience the outside world for the first time in what feels like forever. Gawking at nature and how pretty everything is, excitedly pointing everything out to Caretaker as they go.

Crying when they see children playing in the park for the first time since their captivity because they had their entire childhood taken from them.

Learning about all the new inventions that came out while they were gone. Caretaker introducing them to mobile phones, that board game they'd been looking forward to playing before, the new gaming consoles, all the music Caretaker saved just because it made them think of Whumpee! It delights Caretaker to know that they get to show it all to Whumpee, after all.

The personality changes that have happened, whether that be due to conditioning/trauma/etc. A stoic whumpee now getting emotional at everything (not just because they're scared or sad - there's also a lot of happy/joyous tears shedded), an aggressive/angry whumpee who is just so loving and filled with adoration for everything, and vice versa.

Learning to break old habits. Realising it's okay to have and express opinions instead of bottling them up, it's okay to walk on their own two feet, it's okay to not want to spend every waking hour restrained because they're "dangerous".

Hating the freedom. Wanting structure and consistency in their life again, wanting no autonomy because it's so scary after years of living without it.

Having to learn to accept their more prominent scars. The outline of where their muzzle always sat around their face, the visible scars from all Whumper's poorly executed surgeries/vivisections (also the low-quality stitching up they did!), the mark from where they were branded.

Whumpees who immediately try (and fail) to go back to who they were before. They don't want to admit that it's not possible - they're in complete denial and end up hurting all their friends and family in the process.

That said, also having to grieve because they've lost the person they were. Does Caretaker secretly grieve with them? Do they miss the person Whumpee was?

The amount of hospital visits and treatments Whumpee needs to get following their return. Bones healing incorrectly, diseases they may have caught, badly infected wounds.

The letters they write to their abuser. Whether they actually send them or not is an entirely different story, but what do they say? Do they beg for forgiveness? Do they hurl insults at them? How coherent are their words?

Caretaker not getting to see them for the first few days/weeks because they spend so much of it holed up in their room, trying to forget about what happened. Maybe they're just so happy to finally be alone without having to worry about Whumper turning up and wanting something from them.

Sexually abused whumpees who experience hypersexuality.

Whumpees who become chronically overstimulated by the time they escape because of all the constant noise/bright lights that Whumper had around them.

[snakebites-and-ink]

CW: Pet whump, referenced kidnapping, captivity, conditioned whumpee

Whumper stretched and glanced at their clock. It was probably time to check on their freshly-caught pet. They headed to the room their new pet, Whumpee, was in, and opened the door only to be greeted with furious yelling and the jingling of chains. Clearly Whumpee was not happy with their new arrangement.

Whumper walked into the room and shut the door behind them. “Hello there.”

With a small growl, Whumpee lunged towards Whumper and swept their leg out in a kick that very nearly landed.

“What do you want?” they demanded angrily as Whumper stepped just out of their reach.

Whumper smirked. They retracted Whumpee’s chain so that it was too short to stand with, and Whumpee was forced to their knees. “Nothing too extreme. I just want you to behave and obey me.”

Whumpee struggled against the chain uselessly. Whumper walked closer, feeling fairly safe from attack now. “What—? What are you going to do with me? Why am I even here?”

Whumper smiled. Someone was asking all the right questions. “I’m going to keep you for myself, dear. You’re here because this is your new home. You are my pet.”

Whumpee paused. Their eyes went wide. “You mean you’ve adopted me?” they asked.

“That’s right,” Whumper confirmed.

“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you! I won’t disappoint you,” Whumpee said, nuzzling Whumper’s leg affectionately.

Whumper hesitated, dumbfounded. They gently tipped Whumpee’s face up to look at their own. “Are you…already trained?”

“Yes sir, I know my place,” Whumpee said intently.

“Oh?” Whumper responded. “Then why were you acting so feral just a minute ago?”

“I didn’t know you were adopting me! I thought I’d been kidnapped, and I had to fight my captors like a person to have a chance at getting out. I can be good, sir, I promise!” They looked up at Whumper with pleading eyes.

“And why were you going about the world without an owner when I found you? Living your life like you thought you were a person?”

Whumpee averted their gaze, not looking like they’d been caught faking, but like they actually were sad. “After I was taken from my first owner, no one wanted to have me as their pet. They all said I was a human. No one else took care of me, so I had to take care of myself.”

Whumper lowered themself to Whumpee’s level. They cupped Whumpee’s cheek gently, and noticed that they automatically tilted their head slightly into Whumper’s hand. 

“Oh, I bet that was hard, wasn’t it?” They kept their tone soft and sympathetic, but inwardly Whumper was ecstatic. Whumpee didn’t even want to be free.

Whumpee nodded, face rubbing against Whumper’s hand as they did so.

“Don’t worry. Now that you’re mine, I’ll take care of everything for you. You won’t have to work another day in your life to have nourishing food and a roof over your head, so long as you don’t do anything too foolish like running away.”

Whumpee dove towards Whumper and hugged them fiercely. “Thank you thank you sir, thank you, you’re so nice I need it—”

Whumper was delighted. Whumpee was so so grateful, practically loved Whumper already for taking them. And here Whumper had been expecting to be hated and resisted for a couple weeks at least. They pulled Whumpee back enough to see their face. Were those tears? Aw, they were! Whumper forced their instinctive grin to emerge as something warm and soft instead. If Whumpee thought they were nice and caring for doing this, Whumper wasn’t planning to disabuse them of that notion as long as their behavior stayed good enough. “Shh, it’s alright, dear pet, relax. You’ll never have to worry about anything again.”

Whumper hugged back, holding Whumpee close. They felt so small and sweet in Whumper’s arms. Whumpee obediently quieted their rambling and let go of a portion of the desperate tension in their body. With Whumpee’s face tucked safely out of view against Whumper’s chest, Whumper allowed their wide grin to finally appear. This was going to work out wonderfully.

[whumpsoda]

Old Photos

Kinda short but like I have had no good ideas lately :( it makes me sad cause I wanna write!!! i have been messing with a pet whump story idea though so idk if it will go anywhere but we will see!!!

cw: dehumanization, conditioning, minor descriptions of captivity ———————————————————————

“I just love photo albums, don’t you pet?” Affectionate, adoring, blank eyes stared back.

“I know you used to like taking pictures, didn't ‘cha? With your little human camera?” The words simply filtered through pet’s head. Cameras were human things, he knew that. Human things had no meaning to him. “Oh, look at him.” Whumper eagerly tilted the pristine photo album down to Whumpee’s level.

Whumpee’s eyes met with those in the carefully placed pictures. The ones he saw were absolutely terrified, and so was the man they belonged to. The man was noticeably muscular, but looked so small on his knees. Similar to most of the people in the photos Whumper kept, this man was tied up and close to naked, covered in crusty blood.

In response, Whumpee gently drooped his tired eyes and rested his head onto Whumper’s knee. His own knees rubbed into the fuzzy carpet. That’s how he was meant to be, on the floor below his owner. 

Just like a good dog.

“This puppy, he was so fiesty way back when, in the beginning. Wanted nothing to do with me, even after I rescued him.” Whumper pointed to several photos on the page, guiding Whumpee’s eyes with his thick finger.

Whumpee’s eyes glazed over the glistening photos, letting them disappear into his empty head. If it wasn’t a command or praise, it did not matter to a pet. 

“Fought me all the time, darling. Hit, kicked, bit me a few times. All because I was giving him a better life. Such an ungrateful brat, wasn’t he, pet?” Whumpee gracefully tilted his head to meet Whumper’s eyes, adoration enveloped in both pairs. Whumpee whined, pushing his cheek firther into the touch of Whumper’s knee. 

Whumpee knew master did not deserve that treatment. Whatever pet master spoke of, the bad one, whumpee could be better. Whumpee was better. He was such a good dog, Master told him all the time! The two loved each other so very much, and they would relish in that mutual affection for the rest of their lives.

“You’re so much better, I know, Pet. Such a good boy, aren’t you?” Whumper reached down a large, rough hand, and scratched under Whumpee’s chin. A pleased smile filled Whumpee’s scarred face. 

Whumper’s hand swiftly slipped out soon after. “But look at him,” He commandingly pushed the album even closer to Whumpee’s face. “Even when being a stupid puppy, wasn’t he still adorable?”

 Whumpee’s face instantly fell. What if master liked the bad pet more than him? What if he wasn’t good enough anymore? Had he been bad that day? Whumpee nuzzled impossibly closer, his saccharine encompassed, doe eyes pleading with Whumper.

Please, please, don’t get rid of me!

Whumper let out a deep, gleeful chuckle, setting his hand now on top of Whumpee’s head. “I still love you more, pet, of course I do. Even if he was cute, an obedient puppy will always be much cuter.” Whumper’s fingers grazed upon Whumpee’s grimy, greasy hair, the touch sending a wave of pleasure and relief throughout Whumpee’s body.

“Isn’t there anything you want to say about the pictures though, pet? Don’t you remember that scared little dog?” For a moment, Whumpee disregarded the insignificant words. They both knew dogs did not have opinions, and did not partake in conversation like humans did. Even so, he locked his eyes onto the pictures, studying them intently. Something about these specific pictures caught his eye. They were special. The photos were familiar, vaguely, he was aware had seen them before, even if he had no recollection of when.

Whumper loved gazing at his massive photo collections so often Whumpee couldn’t recall a single other pet he had ever laid eyes upon. There were much to many for him to remember, so after to long he had simply stopped caring to. This specific pet though, the look on his face sent a shiver seeping through Whumpee’s frail body.

Whumpee instinctively disregarded his thoughts, shoving them to a place where they could not reach him. He was not meant to think, and every so often he would foolishly forget it. Thinking was for humans, and so it was obviously only something a bad pet would do.

Whumpee was not a bad pet.

He continued to hug his body against the warm flesh of his master’s, adding to the comfort of feeling his mind wash away. Whumper sighed approvingly. “You’re such a wonderful puppy.” He turned the eye-strainingly colorful album back to himself, gazing tenderly into the terrified faces displayed in the decorated pictures.

After a content moment, Whumper met with Whumpee’s eyes once again. Whumper looked at him so kindly, his eyes so full of love, and Whumpee craved the blissful feeling it sent through him.

 “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. It seems almost like yesterday I took these beautiful photos of you, my most prized puppy.”

[montammil]

whumpee begging to be hurt trope

CW: Intimate Caretaker, mentioned self-harm (by scratching), begging to be hurt

...

It’s been weeks since Whumpee came back, and slowly they were starting to recover. Caretaker has never been so proud, so happy that Whumpee is making progress and starting to be themself again.

Until one day, when Caretaker hears a loud crash. Instinctually, they hurry to the source of the noise and skid to a halt when they see Whumpee, a broken vase below them.

“Whumpee, are you okay?” They slowly walk toward them, kneeling in front of them to look for any cuts, but sigh in relief when they find none. “C’mon, sweetie, let’s--”

“No! It’s okay, I-- I got it!” Whumpee starts picking up the shards of glass with shaking hands. 

“Whoa, Whumpee!” They grab their hands and check for any further injuries, gasping quietly when they see a small gash in the palm of their left hand. They look up at Whumpee when they start trembling harder, to realize Whumpee looks positively terrified.

Not at the cut. At Caretaker.

“Please, I’m-- I’m so sorry,” Whumpee stammers in a sob. “It was an accident!”

“Shh, hey, I know, I know it was. You don’t need to be sorry for anything, please don’t feel sorry. I’m just worried, I’ve told you that.”

“Please, just hurt me. Please.”

Caretaker isn’t surprised from the gut wrenching plead. They’ve heard Whumpee beg to be hurt before, like the time Whumpee spilled a cup of water all over the floor, or the time they accidentally hurt Caretaker when they got too close.

This time is different, because never has Caretaker seen Whumpee so sad, so sleep-deprived, so miserable.

“No, Whumpee. I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you.” 

“Why? Why won’t you just forgive me?!”

Never has Whumpee yelled at them. Behind that pained expression, they see anger. Genuine anger, for the first time ever since they got them back.

“What are you talking about? Honey, there’s nothing to forgive you over. You did nothing wrong. I can replace the vase if that’s what you’re worried about, but I promise--”

“No, you don’t get it! If you don’t hurt me, I’m not forgiven! Every mistake I make will never be forgiven because you won’t hurt me!”

Realization along with heartbreak spreads across Caretaker’s face. They thought Whumpee was just begging to be hurt because that’s what they were used to, but they never really considered this. That must also be why Whumpee is always violently scratching themself when they do something they think is wrong.

“Oh, Whumpee.” They inhale sharply and pull them into their arms, circling them around them securely. “You don’t need to be forgiven by being hurt. That isn’t just awful, but what’ll that do in the long-term? It won’t make you learn from your actions, it’ll just make you scared.”

Even if it did have benefits, Caretaker would never lay a hand in anger on Whumpee. They love them to no ends, but they just wish they’d get that through their head already.

“Then how do I learn?” 

Caretaker is sure it’s a rhetorical question, but they answer, anyway. “We talk it out; but believe me, Whumpee, you haven’t done anything wrong since you got here. This was just a mistake. Everyone makes them.”

They sniffle, so Caretaker wipes their tears away with their thumb. They smile at how Whumpee leans into the touch, closing their eyes.

“Let’s go clean that cut and bandage it. Does that sound okay to you?” 

Whumpee’s eyes open again. “What about the vase?”

“I’ll get a new one after cleaning it up. Do you know how many times I broke that vase, too?”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. At least four different times.” That’s not true, maybe two at most, but they know that’ll make Whumpee feel a little less guilty. They wish they could take that guilt away completely. They wish they could take all of Whumpee’s pain away, even if that meant bearing it for them.

Thankfully, Whumpee gives a grin. It may be tiny, but it still warms Caretaker’s heart more than words can describe.

[whumps-and-bumps]

I know Valentines Day was last week but I was thinking about a sad little Whumpee feeling invisible anyway :)

(Emotional whump, mention of potential SA, platonic-OR-romantic Caretaker (take your pick), depression/self-hate vibes)

A Whumpee who dreads Valentines Day every year not because it's the anniversary of specific trauma, but because nothing ever happened to them.

They've spent their entire life watching their friends and family all get cards and presents, go on cute dates, have fun - even all their other friends seem to do something with each other, like a galentines day party or gifting each other joke cards, but year after year they themselves are totally forgotten. They try to get involved and give silly cards of their own; they give and give and give but nobody ever thinks to give them anything in return. It feels silly on the surface, but it still strikes a chord. There's nothing wrong with them, right? It's just bad luck? Maybe they just need better friends.

Then the main whump happens, they get held captive and are abused and beaten and broken and defiled, whatever the story is - and then finally they're rescued, or maybe they escape all on their own, and eventually life goes back to 'normal' again. Or as normal as it ever will be.

They wish they could say they didn't notice Valentines coming up the first year after they're free of Whumper, but it stays in the back of their mind, lingering. There's zero chance of anyone caring about them now. They have their new Caretaker, of course, but that's different - they're a burden to them. Caretaker is too kind to not look after them after everything they went through, and at the end of the day they deserve better than Whumpee. Caretaker deserves someone still whole.

Whumpee prepares silently for the day, they brace themselves for the depression and self-hatred they know will consume them, but for the sake of Caretaker they bottle it all up. It's just a normal day. It's stupid and silly. A commercial holiday that means nothing. Everything is fine. It's fucking Tuesday, nothing special.

Hope is so fucking hard to destroy, though, and they wake up still hoping there will be a card in the post. From anyone, their mum, an old friend - even spam would make them feel like they existed still - but there's nothing. Not even a pamphlet.

They spend the whole day shut away in their room, trying to distract themselves, and at least that's not unusual after what Whumper did to them so Caretaker won't notice. They tell themselves they shouldn't need outside validation to know they're worthy of love and affection. It's just so hard to believe, though. The first and only person that has ever loved them was Whumper, and look how that turned out. Clearly there is something wrong and unlovable about Whumpee. If only someone could have told them what was is so they could fix before they were taken and broken irrepairably.

That evening, Caretaker calls them downstairs for dinner as normal. Whumpee makes the effort because if they don't, Caretaker will definitely know something is wrong, and they really don't want to talk about it. The kitchen is well-lit, the food in the oven is nothing special, this isn't romantic - but then they see a little red envelope resting on their empty placemat, and a silly fake rose sat beside it.

Caretaker is nervous, almost afraid of Whumpee's reaction - they just wanted to do something nice for their friend, especially after what Whumper did to them. It's a silly little thing meant to make them smile on a day they know can be hard.

But Whumpee is just standing and staring at the envelope, terrified of it. Caretaker goes to say something but before they can, Whumpee starts to cry. They completely break down, months and months and years of bottled up feelings bubbling up and spilling over in an ugly mess.

Their legs give out and they kneel on the floor as they sob, trying to catch their breath. Caretaker thought of them. They remembered them. They're Whumpee's best friend, their greatest, closest, most wonderful friend they could ever have dreamed of and they love them so much it hurts to breathe.

How dare they, though? How dare they come into their life now, when they're all broken and used and ruined? Where were they before everything went wrong? Why couldn't they be loved like this when they still felt like they were allowed to be?

[chiharuuu22]

Don't Leave Me, Please

Whumpee slept restlessly. His forehead was furrowed, his head kept moving from one side to the other, and he was often heard groaning in pain. Caretaker who was sitting waiting for him, looked at him worriedly. Her hand continued to hold Whumpee's hand while praying, and occasionally she wiped the sweat from Whumpee's forehead with a damp towel.

Caretaker's heart felt like it was being crushed when she saw the tears dripping from the corners of Whumpee's closed eyes. Whumpee had never cried before. What did he feel until the tears finally came out?

Caretaker got up from her position, planning to get a new towel and pajamas in the cupboard at the end of the room, when she felt something holding the end of her sweater.

"Where are you going?" Whumpee asked, his eyes wide open, and his trembling fingers could be seen trying to hold the tip of the Careteker sweater.

Caretaker felt an uncomfortable feeling in her heart again and hurriedly sat up and held Whumpee's hand tightly. "I just wanted to get a new towel in that cupboard; you can still see me from here, okay? I'll be right back."

After feeling Whumpee's hand loosen its grip on her hand, Caretaker rushed to the cupboard and grabbed a new towel and a clean pair of pajamas, then rushed back to Whumpee's side.

Caretaker carefully changed Whumpee's pajamas and bandages, then gently laid him back down. "Is there anything you need? I can bring it for you. A cup of hot tea, perhaps?"

Whumpee shook his head and said, "No, please don't go anywhere. Don't leave me. Keep me company. Sorry, I don't know why, but I really don't want to be alone. Please."

Caretaker again wiped the tears flowing down Whumpee's cheeks. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Whumpee shook his head again and answered very slowly. "I can't sleep."

Honestly, Caretaker was surprised. So, since then, Whumpee has only closed his eyes without sleeping? Since when?

"You should have told me. What about sleeping pills? You've been prescribed medication, so you can sleep well."

Whumpee looked thoughtful before nodding. Caretaker helped him take sleeping pills, rubbing his back when Whumpee coughed after drinking water.

"Don't go anywhere. Please stay. At least until I fall asleep," said Whumpee when Caretaker covered him again.

Caretaker smiled. "Don't worry, I will always be by your side. Now, close your eyes and let the medicine work."

Whumpe flashed a weak smile before finally closing his eyes. Caretaker faithfully sat in her place, held Whumpee's hand, and stroked his hair.

This was the first time Whumpee showed his weak side, and it made Caretaker feel sad. The thing Caretaker can do now is, at least she doesn't cry in front of Whumpee.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 20

"People don't change people, time does" / Blanket / Found Family / "You will regret touching them

Honey skipped into Caretaker's office and ran to her father Caretaker. Whumpee tucked in their legs as far as they could, startled by the sudden movement.

"Honey, I've told you to be calm around Whumpee", Caretaker looked at her then at Whumpee.

"I'm sorry", Honey looked over at Whumpee, "I forgot."

"I need you to be able to remember this" Caretaker patted Honey's head, "Whumpee will be with us for a while, I want them to be able to be comfortable here, not stressed."

Honey went to leave, but stopped in front of Whumpee and kneeled down.

Whumpee peaked up from their arms to look at her, they had tear tracks down their face.

"It will be okay", Honey promised, "my daddy makes everything better."

Whumpee looked deeply at Honey. This child was so full of joy and kindness, Whumpee marveled. They mustered all of their strength to make a weak smile and nod.

When Honey left, Caretaker came over to Whumpee and knelt down, "are you doing ok? Are you sure you want to stay on the floor? The couch is very comfortable."

"May I stay with you sir?", Whumpee whispered hoarsely, "I am fine on the floor sir."

"You can absolutely stay in my office with me all you like, I just want to make sure you are comfortable", Caretaker lightly patted Whumpee's arms, "I'm sorry for my daughter startling you though."

"Please don't apologize for them, its refreshing to see someone full of life", Whumpee whispered again.

Caretaker smiled, "I appreciate that." He stood again, "I'm going to start working again right over there, if you need anything at all just let me know. The couch is still up for grabs if you like."

Whumpee nodded, then rested their chin on their arms. They watched Caretaker start working again from the corner of their eye. They then noticed someone peaking in the doorway.

Honey saw that Whumpee had caught her, she gave them a smile and ran off.

Honey came to the office again a bit later, this time quietly walking to Caretaker's side. She noticed Whumpee had dozed off.

"Daddy, will Whumpee be ok?", they whispered.

Caretaker picked Honey up and sat her on their lap, "in time yes, they have been through a lot. They are scared and uncomfortable, and now they have to get used to new people and new surroundings, but I hope that soon they will be able to get comfortable enough here. After that I should be able to start working with them more."

Honey glanced at Whumpee, "but daddy, you're the best, you've helped so many people already, why do you have to wait?"

Caretaker smiled, "well it's not always that easy, taking care of people like how I do is a process. The biggest thing is earning trust. Many that are put in my care have been hurt by others, it's hard for them to trust again. Whumpee was hurt really badly for a long time."

"Is that why they cry a lot?", Honey frowned, "I feel bad when they cry."

"Yes, they had to be really strong and courageous for a long time. Right now though, they are learning they don't have to be strong like that anymore. So they are working through those emotions that had to be buried for so long", Caretaker saw that Whumpee was peaking an eye out at them, "what is something you do when you are feeling sad?", Caretaker asked Honey.

"I cuddle with my teddy and blankie", she smiled and started to hug Caretaker.

He squeezed his daughter with a grin, "that's right. I think mommy was going shopping, how about you see if you can go with her, I think Whumpee will be waking up soon. They might need some help."

Whumpee looked out the door in enough time to see Honey disappear, "do you fear she is to young too know about these horrors?", Whumpee sighed.

Caretaker frowned, "I don't believe in hiding things from my child, unfortunately this world will show her one day how bad it truly is, but I hope by then she will know there is still good in it", Caretaker smiled, "I hope in that instant, her heart will stay golden."

"It will sir", Whumpee sighed, "with the family she has, her heart will stay golden."

"This is your family now as well", Caretaker smiled, "do you need anything?"

"May I go to the bathroom", Whumpee looked up, "please."

"Yes of course you don't have to ask for permission", Caretaker started to stand while talking.

Caretaker reached down a hand to help Whumpee up. Whumpee leaned on Caretaker all the way to the bathroom, and all the way back.

"How about the couch this time? Your butt has to be numb from sitting on the floor", Caretaker led them into his office.

"I'm alright, but if you insist and really want me on your couch, I'll try it. I haven't sat on furniture in a long time", Whumpee limped across the room, Caretaker followed behind happy to see Whumpee take a few steps on their own.

Caretaker braced Whumpee as they sat down. Whumpee was a little wobbly.

"How does it feel,", Caretaker questioned as Whumpee got comfortable.

"It feels good sir, I've only sat on the floor for the last few years", Whumpee grinned slightly, "it feels weird."

Later on, Honey came running to Caretaker's office, "daddy", they whispered. They ushered Caretaker to come with them, and led them to the living room.

Whumpee looked up but buried their head into their sleeves again. They were still on the couch, but fighting everything they had not to jump back down to the floor. This wasn't what they were used to. They could hear Whumper yelling at them.

They were brought back to reality when something was throne over their shoulders. They jumped, but seeing Honey's smiling face kept them from panicking.

Whumpee looked at what was thrown over them, a-a blanket, they looked at Honey in shock. Honey then pulled out a stuffed toy, hugged it, then gave it to Whumpee.

"These are for you", Honey smiled, "my daddy gave me the idea when he asked what I do when I'm sad, mommy helped me pick them out. I thought maybe they would help you."

Whumpee glanced up at the doorway where Caretaker and his wife were watching the exchange with pure joy, then they looked back at Honey.

Tears started to well up in Whumpee's eyes as they took the stuffed toy and hugged it as Honey did. They didn't remember the last time they cuddled a toy, or been wrapped in a blanket.

"Thankyou so much", Whumpee started to cry.

The next hour, Honey showed Whumpee her favorite ways to cuddle a stuffed toy. Caretaker walked back into his office a bit later, having left them to it. He smiled when he saw Whumpee and Honey cuddled up with each other sleeping.

For this moment, Whumpee was at peace.

Taglists. 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

[whumpshaped]

would you ever write a vampire with catholic beliefs? Who is struggling between his beliefs and his reality? 🍬🧠🍬🧠 I forgot my zip mouth emoji...Idk where it is...

so originally i wanted to write about isabella, but well, she's not a he, nor is she catholic (she's lutheran). so have this sad wet cat

tw vampire whumper/whumpee? i'm not sure what this man is- death, murder, religious themes, religious trauma, religious guilt, suicidal ideation, (self-imposed) starvation, self-blame, memory loss, abandonment, lady whumpee, noncon drugging, dehumanisation (of self)

It was cold when he awoke. The winter breeze bit into his twitchy body and made him curl up for a moment, but it paled in comparison to the ruthless hunger gnawing at his stomach.

His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar scene, but recognising the terrain wasn't necessary for him to follow the scent of blood. It was all he could focus on, torn clothes and the cold long forgotten as he struggled to his feet and began following the trail.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

He wanted it. He needed it. He had to have it, no matter the cost.

He didn't have the presence of mind to stop and wonder about his heart that was no longer beating, nor the speed with which he was pursuing his prey. He didn't think about the fact that he could see all too well despite it being the middle of the night, he didn't even consider that normal people didn't usually hunt. Not in a town. Not like this.

He pounced on the man without hesitation. He pumped the body full of venom so he would be silent, then drank and drank and drank until–

"Holy shit," someone said quietly. Then, louder this time, "Holy shit. Vampire! There's a fucking vampire–"

He bolted before he could've heard the end of it. He didn't think about the man he left behind. He ran back to where he'd woken up, collapsing to the ground as soon as he got there. He felt exhausted, he felt... dead. More alive now that he'd had something to drink, but...

He lifted a hand and pressed it against his chest. Nothing. Of course, this should've been more than expected, having drained that poor man dry–

Oh dear. He'd likely killed someone.

His mind was reeling. He couldn't remember a thing from before waking up, but the past few minutes had already thrown him for a loop on their own. He was dead, a dead man walking, and he'd just killed someone. And another human had even seen him do it!

He tried to take a couple of deep breaths to ground himself, but the taste of blood in his mouth negated any effort he put in. He was a monster. He was a murderer. He was going to be hunted and killed.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

The scent of blood clung to him like a ghost, and he desperately wished for a warm shower to get it off. Alas, he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a discarded coat on the ground. He should at least look through that to see whether he could piece together who he used to be. He didn't even... remember his own name.

And where was his sire? The bloodthirsty monster who turned him into one of them? Had they not even waited for him to wake up? Had they not cared at all about the life they'd ruined?

Touching the coat brought back memories of his last minutes, the way the vampire had slipped it off his shoulders and threw it on the ground. He remembered being dazed and helpless, baring his neck for the demon to feast on. At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the world, to be able to feed them.

He looked through the pockets and found an ID for Jude Flanagan, born 1998. The picture was... him? He gingerly touched his own face, as though his fingers could ever work as well as a mirror. Was he really the Jude on the card?

He was. His fingers brushed against the cloth of an eye patch, the same one the man on the photo was wearing. More memories flooded his mind: his mother calling him, his father yelling for him from downstairs, the priest scolding him.

Priest?

He found a Bible in the next pocket, a small one. He dropped it out of fear, afraid it would burn his hands like silver, but nothing happened. The book seemed harmless, apart from the implications it brought along.

He used to be a man of God.

"N-no... No, no, no, no. You were supposed to protect me," he choked out, picking up the Bible again. "How could You let this happen? How– how could a vampire– why would You let a vampire..."

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

"I killed a man!" Jude cried. "First You deny me Heaven, and now– the temptation was all I had! I couldn't control it! I didn't see a way out!"

He curled up with the book in hand, sobbing like he was the one to be pitied. Like he was the victim and not the murderer, like he was deserving of any kind of sympathy.

"I didn't see a way," he repeated brokenly. "I didn't... I don't... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Please, forgive me..."

-

Jude never quite managed to get used to the hunger. Nor the isolation.

The abandoned shack he'd found was good for shelter, but it was not a luxury abode, and the little money he managed to scrape together every other evening while disguising himself as a human beggar was not enough for much. The coat had become his most prized possession along with all the treasures it held: the Bible, the rosary, and the wallet with all the documents.

He bought new things, too. Some soap so he could wash himself well enough in the river, some candles to combat the suffocating darkness. Every little thing was precious, bought with the goodwill of humans who didn't care to look too hard at the creature they were giving their change to.

Jude could've charmed them. He could've tricked someone into inviting him inside, and he could've enthralled them to let him stay. He could've lived a more comfortable life, with a soft bed, a clean bathtub, and a belly always full of the warmest blood.

But he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to take any of it.

He'd thought about getting a stake and finishing the job his sire had started. He wanted so badly to be put out of his misery, to be greeted with kindness and compassion at the pearly gates before being allowed in — but he didn't deserve that either. His life wasn't his own to take, and nor was his unlife. God would make that decision when He saw fit, and until then, Jude could do nothing but atone.

He took no blood from humans. He lived on the blood of pests and small woodland creatures; roadkill sometimes, when he got lucky. He hated killing anything, but at least it was allowed, or... or he hoped it was.

Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.

God had given the creatures to the humans, not the wretched monsters of the night. He could only hope and pray that his past humanity was something to be taken into consideration.

He was kneeling on the floor with his elbows resting on his borrowed bed, hands clasped together in prayer, when he caught the scent. A human. Was this the night he would finally be purged from the Earth? Or was the human the real owner of his makeshift home?

His stomach rumbled as the scent got stronger and stronger. His mouth was watering despite his best efforts to keep a level head, and he buried his face in the covers, trying to tune it out.

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

Jude was shaking by the time the human reached the door of his temporary dwelling. He stayed on his knees and listened to the sounds of the lock being picked, preparing himself for the blessing that would be his permanent death.

If only he hadn't been starving. If only the human hadn't smelled so good.

But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.

He lunged like a wild animal as soon as the door was pushed open. His fangs sank into the poor woman's neck easily, and she let out a groan as the venom took hold. Blood, so much blood, fresh, delicious, rich, so much better than the squirrels and rats–

Jude pulled back with a start, eyes wide with terror. No, no, no, not again, not again. He wiped his mouth and even his tongue with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the proof of his sin. The woman was still alive, letting out soft sounds of satisfaction as she lay there.

Her neck was still bleeding. He ought to close the wounds.

Jude licked his lips, then took a step backwards. No, he wouldn't lick her. Hadn't he done enough damage? He could– he could find something to bandage her with–

In truth, he didn't trust himself. There was no telling whether he'd have the self-control to stop for a second time, were he to get that close to her neck again.

"Don't you want a little more?" she asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I'm still bleeding so much... You don't want to waste it, do you?"

There was a mask covering the lower half of her face, and judging from that and the all black attire, she must've been a hunter. This woman could've staked him. God had given him an out, and he'd let himself be blinded by his selfish hunger.

"I'm s-sorry," Jude stammered, quickly rummaging through all his belogings to find at least a band-aid. "I'll, I'll help you– I'll patch you up, I just need a moment–"

"Can't you lick the wounds closed?" She got to her feet and ventured further into the cabin, grabbing onto the back of his shirt to steady herself and making him flinch. "There's so much blood... Is the flavour not to your liking?"

Jude spun around, and found himself trapped between the wall and his victim. She pulled her mask down and gave him a smile, eyes sparkling with unabashed want.

"You don't want this," he choked out. The smell was so strong. She was so close. She was offering, if only because of the venom, but she was offering nonetheless.

"Oh, but I do. I want it so badly."

Jude stopped breathing entirely, closing his eyes for a moment to think. "What's your name?"

"Pia Gravenor, Master."

"D-don't call me that, please."

"I can call you whatever you want, sir, if you just spare me one more bite..." Jude's eyes snapped open when she grabbed his hand and guided it to the wound, pressing his fingers against her skin slick with blood. "The bleeding isn't stopping anyway..."

He swallowed hard, and her smile widened. She was so desperate for just a bit more venom. He could give that to her, and close the wound after. He could take just one more sip. Just one more.

He was leaning in before he could fully process that he was doing it, lapping up the spilled blood trickling down her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair and kept him there, murmuring soft reassurances and pleas for him to bite again.

Please, forgive me. I'm so hungry. I've been hungry for so long.

Let me have a full meal, just this once.

~

link

[whumpsday]

Annie's Prisoners

Writing Masterlist | G/t writing tag

g/t sideblog here! @smallsday

content: g/t, whump, tiny whump, fairy whumpee, begging, rescue, captivity, wing whump, magical exhaustion, bullying

Whumpmas in July Day 21: "Please" GT July Day 21: Secret

here's the last of the GT July "crossovers" i'm doing during WIJ! it was fun to write more tiny whump :)

-

"Okay, but you don't tell anyone."

Annie got down on the floor, pulling a pink plastic hamster cage out from under her bed.

Parisa could hardly believe what she was seeing. Inside the cage was what looked like a fairy, no more than four inches tall, cowering in the corner. He had wings, but they stopped abruptly about halfway through, leaving him with uneven little trapezoids.

The fairy didn't look pleased to see either of them, hiding himself as well as he could inside the plastic tube running up one wall of the cage- which wasn't very well at all, considering the tube was transparent.

Parisa knelt down on the carpet to see closer, star-struck. "What is this?"

"My fairy!" Annie boasted. "I caught him myself, he was drinking from the birdbath in the backyard! I just shot him with Calvin's Nerf gun and grabbed him while he was all dazed and stuff. Don't act surprised, it's not like you haven't insisted fairies were real since preschool."

Annie was right, Parisa had always been obsessed with fairies. Her notebooks were covered with fairy stickers, she'd spent her whole childhood playing Pixie Hollow, and she'd read book after book on faery mythology. A part of her had always believed that with so many different stories and accounts of them, fairies had to exist in some form, somewhere. Even as she got older and felt more and more that she was being silly, a small part of her always knew.

And she was right.

She would normally be jumping for joy, but... the fairy was obviously not as enamored with Annie's recollection of his capture. He teared up a little, hugging himself as he cringed as far away from them as possible, his severed wings tucked behind him.

Parisa frowned. "He looks kind of sad."

Annie waved away her concern. "He's always pouting. But I haven't even shown you the cool part. He can do magic and stuff!"

The fairy's head snapped up at that, a look of horror dawning on his face.

"But I already did a spell for you today!" Though it seemed like he was attempting to shout, his voice came out tinny and quiet, just as small as he was.

"You can do another for Rissie," Annie said firmly. "But yeah, seriously, you can't tell anyone. Can you imagine? Some government prick would totally take him away from me to experiment on him or whatever, like in the movies."

"Do your parents know?" Parisa asked.

"Oh god no. But I'm taking him to college with me in September, so I won't have to worry about that anymore." Annie sat cross-legged, picking the cage up and moving it into her lap to rest her arms on. The fairy grimaced as she began drumming her fingers absentmindedly on the lid.

"I've had him for almost two months now. I would've shown you sooner, but I wanted to wait until after graduation so you couldn't tell anyone at school. It's not like you talk to anyone besides me anyway, but can't be too careful. But Ciel can change that!"

She held the cage up triumphantly. "I knew you'd be totally helpless without me since we're going to different schools, so I wanted to make sure you were aaaaall set. He can't do like, big things, he's not a genie. But he can do little things. Like make you a little luckier for a while, stuff like that. I use it for studying, too. But I figured he could do a charisma spell on you or something, and it'd help you make new friends at your little state school!"

"I can't do another spell yet, please, I already did one! I don't have enough magic left," Ciel pleaded, looking up at Annie as his tears started to fall. "You said college isn't something that starts until autumn, there's time! It'll hurt too much if I do another now, please no more!"

Parisa's shock slowly gave way to horror as the fairy's deplorable conditions became more and more apparent. She wanted to say something, but she knew Annie would just get defensive and guilt her if she did.

"Yeah, it'd probably be more effective closer to September anyway," Parisa agreed quickly, unable to push down a feeling of hope that Ciel would like her for agreeing with him.

"Fine, whatever," Annie sighed, roughly shoving the cage back under the bed. Parisa got the feeling she was more interested in showing off than actually helping. "Then you can see him more then. He's my fairy, after all. Let's go back downstairs."

Parisa followed Annie, but didn't take her eyes off the dark space under the bed until the door was firmly shut behind them.

It was hard to go back to hanging out normally, and she couldn't keep herself from asking question after question about Ciel. Parisa really wanted to just see him again, but she knew he would hate that, so she didn't ask to.

But as Annie told story after story, it only solidified the fact that what was happening here was wrong. She was practically torturing the delicate little creature, draining him of magic to his absolute limit.

Parisa dreaded the answer, but she couldn't not ask. "What happened to his wings?"

"Don't be a baby about it, but I had to trim them after he tried to fly away one time," Annie said, like it was nothing.

"Wouldn't that hurt?" She tried to do what Annie said, to not be a baby about it, but it was getting ridiculously hard. She wanted to cry, hearing her best friend had done something like that.

"No, it was like getting a haircut, I think. Except permanent. He didn't like, scream or anything." Annie shoved her lightly on the arm. "I said don't be a baby."

"Right. Right." This was all wrong. This wasn't how discovering fairies were real was supposed to be. She had to get out of Annie's face. "I feel like I'm gonna be sick," she lied.

"Ew, go." Annie pointed upstairs. "God, you're so sensitive."

Parisa darted up to the bathroom, where she felt like she could breathe a little better. How was she supposed to live the rest of her life knowing Annie was torturing a fairy? They weren't even going to schools in the same state. She wouldn't be able to do anything to help. She might not ever get to see him again after whatever spell Annie wanted him to do.

Unless she took a peek right now.

Parisa snuck into Annie's room, hoping she wouldn't come to check on her, and carefully pulled the cage out from under the bed.

Ciel clung to the metal spout of the water bottle, like she'd interrupted him while he was drinking. He looked around wildly, relaxing a little bit when he realized Annie wasn't here. "Is she coming?" he asked, his voice so quiet Parisa could just barely hear him.

"No. I'm not supposed to be in here," she admitted. "I just wanted to see you again. And, um, check if you're alright."

"I'm not," he answered without hesitation, eyes still shining with tears. "I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. Please, I desperately need help, Miss." He tentatively stepped forward, though his little hands shook. "Rissie, she said your name was?"

"Parisa. You're Ciel?" she asked.

"I am. Please, I can- I'll come back and do a spell for you, once I've had a chance to rest. If you would just..."

He pointed toward the window with a trembling finger. "Please?"

Oh, Parisa wanted so badly to help. "But your wings? How will you get down?"

Ciel sobbed. "I don't know. I need to be away from here, she plans to keep me imprisoned for life. She's careless, she's going to kill me and I won't even get to die outdoors!"

Parisa had to do something, even if it meant she would lose her only friend. She was probably going to lose her either way anyway, once they left in September.

She unlatched the cage, holding a hand bigger than Ciel's whole body out to him. "I'll help. You just have to trust me."

It was obvious from his face that Ciel had a strong distaste for being grasped in human hands. But with no other options, he climbed readily into Parisa's palm. "Please be gentle," he begged.

She was holding a real fairy. It was like a dream, but Parisa couldn't get caught up in that now, she had to focus on protecting him. She brought Ciel to the front pocket of her hoodie, carefully placing him inside. "Try not to make any noise or move around too much. I'll keep you safe, I promise."

Parisa could feel the fairy's little heartbeat thrumming away against her as she headed back downstairs.

"Yeah, I'm really not feeling good," she told Annie. "I think I'm just gonna go home."

"'Kay, whatever." Annie shrugged. "If you get over yourself by tomorrow, you can come watch him do a spell for me."

Annie would figure out it was her, Parisa knew. But what could she do? It wasn't like she could tell anyone she stole her fairy. And now that they'd graduated high school, she could just... never see Annie again, if she felt like it.

"Goodbye, Annie." Parisa walked out the door without another word.

She waited until she'd walked far enough away from Annie's house and she couldn't see anyone else around to stick her hand in her pocket, offering it to Ciel. "Coast is clear."

He crawled into her hand, and Parisa lifted him out. His eyes instantly went up toward the stars, and she saw him smile for the first time.

"Thank you," he breathed. "It's really over?"

"It's over. I won't let her take you back," Parisa assured him. "What do you want to do?"

"What I want...? I can't just fly off," Ciel lamented. "I'm not sure yet. I- I sort of just want to rest now. She keeps me so tired all the time."

"You can rest. Do you wanna go back in my pocket?" Parisa asked.

He nodded. "Yes, I think I do."

Parisa softly set him back down inside, both of them feeling freer than they'd ever been as she walked them home.

-

tune in monday for some alien whump! 👽 and the following thursday for some kane & jim

this is ciel's cage btw. never put a living creature in this monstrosity

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

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

@dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

one-shots taglist:

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@whuarri

@reborrowing

g/t whump taglist:

@whumpinthepot

@cupcakes-and-pain

@reborrowing

event: @whumpmasinjuly @gianttol

[deckofaces]

Hii, I would love to request yandere whumper, pls and thank you!

Ice cream for motivation 🍦🍦

Hi! So I realized this has been sitting in my inbox for ages. But then I had an amazing thought, why not answer it on your birthday? So this is my bday gift to you! Happy birthday!! I hope you like it :)

Late Night Delusions

Tw: whump, yandere whumper, failed escape, drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, possesive(? not sure but I’ll put it), and I think a bit of gaslighting too so yeah

Whumpee crept through the house, slowly and quietly. The home was pitch black, they could barely see, even the currents were drawn on any of the windows to block any moonlight from coming in. They sometimes wondered if Whumper did that on purpose, in case Whumpee tried something like what they were doing now. 

But they would be fine, lately they’ve been learning the house like the back of their hand. They knew where every creak in the floorboards were, they memorized the easiest places to exit, and they were pretty sure they knew how to get out as quietly as possible. The most difficult part was getting up the steps from the basement, which Whumpee already did! The stairs had the most creaks out of the entire home.

Whumpee knew that Whumper went to bed a couple hours before. They stayed up waiting until they felt certain their kidnapper went to sleep. This is the first bit of hope they’ve felt in so long, they practically clung to it like their life depended on it. 

They crept across the living room and kitchen towards the back door of the house. They could see the dark night outside the back door window, oh how they wished to feel the cool night encompass them. Whumpee silently took a deep breath, slowly twisting the doorknob. 

They let out a shriek that pierced through the stillness of the household. A firm iron hold gripped their wrist not on the doorknob and yanked them away from the handle, spinning them around. Whumpee’s eyes widened seeing Whumper’s face now in front of theirs, even in the dark. Their soft but honeyed voice seemed to shred any hope they had into tiny itty bitty pieces. “I did not know we were going out stargazing tonight, Whumpee.”

Whumpee frantically shook their head, trying to pull their wrist out of their hold, but Whumper did not seem to budge. “Please let me go,” they pleaded, “I’m so tired of being here!”

Whumper barely reacted to their attempts to escape their grip. They just blinked at them with a look of concern. “But my dear.. I’ve been helping you. You are getting so much more attention and love since you’ve been here.” They gave Whumpee a sad look. “Are you sick? What are you doing up in the middle of the night saying these crazy things?” They put a hand to their forehead as if to feel for a temperature. 

With their free hand Whumpee slapped their hand away. “What-? Sick? No, no, I’m not sick! You know I’m not-! You- you hurt me!”

Whumper’s face contorted into one of confusion. “Whumpee.. I don’t hurt you. Your life was so difficult outside of the comfort of my home. I’m giving you a nice easy life if you would just let me..”

“I have friends and family and people waiting for me out there! I’ve been here, stuck with you for I don’t even know how long anymore!” Whumpee shouted, their built up anger and emotions being released finally through their desperate rant.

“Who?” Whumper questioned. “Caretaker?” 

Whumpee fell silent. They were right, and oh god they missed Caretaker. Maybe they have been their motivation for escaping this whole time. Whumper stared at them waiting for an answer, but in the end their silence spoke for them.

“Caretaker did not know how to take care of you. They did not know you like I do. It is best if you erase them from your mind, Whumpee. They were manipulating you and making you worse. And see this-“ they waved to the door “-means I still have a lot of work to do with you.”

Tears filled Whumpee’s eyes. “No! No, you know nothing about me or Caretaker! You are sick and twisted and-“ they were interrupted by Whumper grabbing the collar of their shirt and yanking them closer. They must have let go of their wrist some time in their argument and they didn’t notice.

“You are mine. You were never Caretaker’s. You will never see them again, you are staying with me. Now I suggest you go back to bed, you are being delusional, you must be exhausted if you are lashing out like this.”

“Please, no- I-“

“Shhh, I said it is time for bed.” Whumper reached into their back pocket, Whumpee not noticing the movement in the dark. “You will feel better in the morning, you will be over all this craziness.”

“What, I’m not crazy-!” They helped and looked down at their arm, Whumper held a syringe and were emptying its contents of who knows what into their system. 

“Relax, all you need is rest.” 

Whumpee let out a handful of weak protests. They could not fight off the exhaustion that seemed to quickly wash over them and make their body feel so heavy. Whumper picked them up into a bridal carry when they became too weak to stand, and in the end, falling unconscious.

“Yes.. goodnight Whumpee,” Whumper whispered, looking at the sleeping figure in their arms. There was no way they would let them go so easily. They were theirs after all.