#regretful whumper

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee came in carrying the mail and looked through it so they could separate it the way Whumper liked.

Whumper came in angrily and grabbed Whumpee's arm and pulled them aside.

"Who said you could go outside?", Whumper hissed.

"Mas-Master please, you-you're hurting me", Whumpee winced as Whumper squeezed tighter.

"Who do you think you are?", Whumper shoved Whumpee causing them to fall.

"I-I'm sorry, it's been one of my duties for a long time to retrieve the mail and separate it for you", Whumpee looked up from the floor.

"You still have to ask permission to leave this house, why all of a sudden today you don't ask. Regardless if you are doing a chore or not", Whumper frowned, "are you getting bold? Do you think you don't have to ask anymore? Are you to comfortable?"

"No, please Master", Whumpee panicked, "it only slipped my mind today. It won't happen again. Please forgive me."

"Trust me, I know it won't happen again. I'll give you something to remember this by", Whumper grinned.

"Please Master, I didn't mean to go against you.... I'm sorry", Whumpee bowed lowely to the floor, "please, I'm begging have mercy on me."

Whumper reached down and grabbed a fistful of hair and started to drag Whumpee through the house to the living room.

Whumpee grimaced as the struggled behind Whumper.

"I've been waiting for you to mess up", Whumper suddenly chuckled, "now I get to use my new toy."

Whumper gave one more harsh pull, causing Whumpee to fall forward to the floor. Their face bumping into the couch.

They quickly got up and cowarded away.

"New... new toy", they eyed an open box on the couch, "Master, you're making me nervous."

"Good", Whumper sat down on the couch and pulled the box closer, "come here."

Whumpee gulped. It took every ounce of their strength to crawl to Whumper's feet. Their limbs shook as they looked at the floor.

Whumper pulled something around their neck and tightened it in the back. Whumpee heard the sound of something being locked.

"Master, wh-what are you doing to me?", Whumpee felt it suddenly difficult to swallow.

"Come with me", Whumper stood and started to go to the back of the house.

Whumper pointed at the door.

"Walk through that door, go outside now", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee backed away, "no please", Whumpee sobbed, fully knowing what was about to happen. Metal prongs dug into their neck as they sniffled some snot up their nose.

"I said go out that door", Whumper commanded "don't make me throw you out."

Whumpee swallowed hard, they took small steps toward the door.

"Go ahead", Whumper ordered.

Whumpee took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway.

They realized as they stood on the other side that nothing happened.

They turned quickly and gave a weird look to Whumper.

"Nothing happened because you had my permission to go out... got it", Whumper grinned, "that collar is, in fact, a shock collar. You will be shocked if you leave this house without my permission, I have to manually turn it off before you go out. I can also remotely shock you."

Whumpee felt nauseated from the fear they had just went through.

"I think I'm going to be sick", Whumpee rubbed their stomach, "that was cruel, this is all cruel."

"Do you want to be zapped?", Whumper frowned as Whumpee quickly shook their head no, "that's what I thought."

Whumpee looked down at the ground.

"Get back in here", Whumper commanded, "get back to work."

Whumpee quickly came back in.

Whumpee had a hard time getting use to the collar, it was fitted too tightly. It was thick and hard to move in, and the metal prongs dug into their skin.

Whumper came in to see them scratching underneath the collar.

Whumpee mumbled something before turning and jumping when they saw Whumper.

"You care to repeat yourself?", Whumper frowned.

"No", Whumpee said with a note of frustration.

"Check your attitude", Whumper took a closer look at the collar and Whumpee's irritated neck.

"Come here, I guess I did make it too tight", Whumper frowned, "I know it's uncomfortable, but you'll get use to it."

Whumpee took a frustrated sigh, then wiped a tear away.

"This much fuss over the shock collar? I don't even have it in a big setting", Whumper frowned.

"It's not just the collar. It's everything. I'm frustrated, can't you fu... freaken get that", Whumpee yelled, "I'm held here against my will. I slave over this entire house without so much as a thankyou or some sort of reward. I make one mistake, and now I'm wearing a freaken dog collar with the threat of getting shocked. I'm frustrated. You hurt me today, not a physical hurt either. It's deeper than that."

Whumper listened. They felt a little guilt twinge at their heart.

"You do freaken realize today is.... no, never mind. I'm not going to ask you for sympathy. Just let me calm down... please", Whumpee almost stormed off, "am I dismissed?"

Whumper stepped aside and let them through.

Whumper quickly went to their calendar.

"What the heck did I forget.... oh", Whumper frowned, "birthday and their anniversary of being here. I'm an idiot."

Whumper rounded the corner and saw Whumpee watching out the open front window.

They heard tiny sobs coming from Whumpee.

"Whumpee I'm going to go out for a bit. Try to relax a little", Whumper's guilt was eating them alive, "I won't be long."

Whumpee just nodded. They wiped another tear away.

Whumper now stood in front of the books. They already had a cake, ice cream, and a few other things in the cart. They had hopes of making it up to Whumpee.

Yes, Whumpee was held hostage and used as a slave, but everyone deserved to enjoy their birthday.

"I know they like to read, they're constantly looking at the magazines when they come in", Whumper looked over some of the covers, "but what the heck do they like to read."

They finally picked out two books they thought may be interesting. They then made a stop in the toy aisle.

"Whumpee often looks at these when they come to the store with me", Whumper looked over the stuffed toys, "this one looks good", Whumper looked one over.

Whumpee had calmed down enough to start cleaning again.

"At least they aren't here to bother me", Whumpee whispered, "I knew they'd forget, I don't know what I expected."

Whumpee frowned, "hey you've been here long enough. It's your birthday. Let's go back to your family", Whumpee mocked their thoughts and dreams, "I really miss my family, I wonder what we'd be doing right now? I wonder what they're doing right now."

"Whumpee I'm home, cover your eyes", Whumper called from the door.

"Great, now what", Whumpee groaned as they covered their eyes.

They heard some bags shuffle by as Whumper walked past.

"Don't come into the kitchen until I tell you to", Whumper had a laugh in their voice.

"Okay", Whumpee sighed.

After a few minutes of hearing rustling in the kitchen, Whumpee turned toward that part of the house with a glare.

'Now you're going to make a mess', they complained to themself.

"Whumpee you can come in now", Whumper called.

Whumpee cautiously walked into the kitchen and saw the cake and even some food from their favorite restaurant.

They gave a shocked look at Whumper.

"I am a jerk, I'm well aware. I did forget your birthday and anniversary was today", Whumper frowned.

"I kind of figured you would", Whumpee made a small grin.

"To make it up to you for the rest of the week, just have like a birthday week or something like that. Everyone deserves to enjoy their birthday, and since we have a late start, let's just enjoy the rest of today", Whumper smiled, "I'll take off the collar as well, just make sure you ask before going out of the house."

"Okay", Whumpee glanced at everything again, "everything looks so good."

"I didn't have time to wrap things but these are all for you", Whumper handed a plastic bag to Whumpee before they went to remove the collar, "you can open them now if you like, then we'll have dinner. How does cake and ice cream sound?"

Whumpee rubbed their neck happily, "it sounds good", they started to rummage through the bag.

They pulled out a bottle of lotion.

"I thought it might help the irritated parts of your neck", Whumper started to pull out plates, and watched Whumpee open the lotion.

"This feels so nice", Whumpee sighed in relief.

Whumpee then pulled out the stuffed toy, "aww this is so cute", they squeezed it tightly.

"You look at them a lot when we go out, I thought you would like one", Whumper nodded.

"Thankyou", Whumpee smiled as they hugged it again.

Whumpee looked into the bag and saw the two books.

"This one was a struggle because you seem to like to read, but I didn't know what. I hope those are okay... they looked interesting", Whumper looked down, "I'm sorry I forgot, I hope this makes it up to you. You don't have to tell me, I already know I'm a jerk."

Whumpee nodded with a grin, "a big jerk", they said sarcastically.

Whumper frowned and looked down.

"But I appreciate you trying to make it up to me, and these gifts are so nice", Whumpee smiled, "thankyou."

Whumper smiled, "you're welcome, I am sorry about the collar too, I probably went a bit too far with that. Just make sure you follow the rules. I won't put it back on you."

Whumpee nodded, "I did forget today, honest... I was just thinking about my birthday, and it slipped. I think for some reason, I was hoping for a birthday card or something like that."

Whumper smiled and nodded, "I'll try to be better at showing appreciation as well. You do take care of this place, so thankyou."

Whumpee nodded with a smile.

"Well, enough eith this sappy soft crap. Let's eat", Whumper picked up the food, "I got your favorite."

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 @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

[whumpycries]

Whumpee who needs permission for everything, speaking, sleeping, eating etc. And a Whumper who just... forgets to tell them to sleep. Not out of maliciousness or sadism, they just straight up forget. Whumpee can't ask for permission because they don't have permission to speak either. Right up until Whumpee just collapses from the sheer exhaustion and won't wake up.

Whumper is horrified.

(Bonus points if Whumper had been getting angry about Whumpee's lack of coordination and cooperation, the increased clumsiness, and had punishing them over and over for it.)

[whump-blog]

Prompt 49

Whumper has been a terrible person, mercilessly destroying and crushing the lives of those who stood in the way of his beloved nation to which he was blindly loyal. Yet his loyalty did him no good when those he had always served betrayed and turned against him.

Now all Whumper can do is escape from his own kind.

Curious is the fate when Whumper, exhausted, wounded and starving after weeks of being hunted, ends up in the hands of those he had once harmed.

More is his surprise when these people decide to save his life and give him a second chance.

Loyalty is not a big enough word to describe the things Whumper will be willing to do for his saviours and the gratitude he feels for them.

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 1 - Touchstarved

CW: Intimate whumper, beatings, blood, injury, defiant whumpee, death, delusion, captivity, obsessive/yandere whumper

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Oh, you think you're clever, huh? Don’t think that I’ll be all mellow now, just because you got roughed up a little."

Whumper’s foot meets their captive’s hip, still unresponsive as they lay on their stomach, just as he left them last evening. Nothing new really, it’s been weeks since they made any meaningful progress. Countless hours of screaming, biting, scratching and whatever else that little shit keeps coming up with to resist settling down.

A sigh echoes through the small basement while Whumper squats down to inspect the person in front of them further. Laying face down and with closed eyes, they are sleeping peacefully for the first time in a while, a fact Whumper doesn’t like to remind himself of. It shouldn’t be like this for both of them, it’s not fair.

"You know what I expect of you, dear. Try to put a little effort into this, and I promise that it will be worth it; just three little words and all of this ends today." Whumpee doesn’t turn to meet their gentle words, they don’t even flex a muscle. Maybe I really overdid it, Whumper ponders as his hand slowly starts to stroke over the greasy strands of hair, clumped together with dried up sweat and dirt.

"Come on, I know it’s hard for you, but I can be reasonable if you let me. The moment we met back in that lousy fucking bar. I knew there was a spark, one you can only find once in a lifetime. We can’t give that up just because of some bickering."

The dim light above starts to buzz, as Whumper settles down to his knees, gaze still fixed onto his little treasure. The first week after he brought them home was the hardest. Whumpee not realizing that he was doing all of this for them, to allow them both to get what everyone deserves: a loving home, a partner who will always care for them, hold them, love them. But it takes two to make a couple, and Whumper’s patience never was unconditional.

"Sorry if I hurt you, honey," he murmurs, still expecting any kind of aversion towards his touches gliding through their hair, down to the small of their neck. "Say the words, so I can patch you right up and forget about all of this. You know I hate eating dinner by myself, so don’t let me go to bed hungry." The corner of his mouth twists into a sad smile, knowing that without yesterday's brutal beating, they would never be this sweet with him.

Not yet, at least.

Typically, they would just twist around in his grasp and try to bite the hand that has nothing but adoration for them. A hand that needs them as much as they need it, yearning for the soft intimacy to fill an otherwise empty house.

As Whumper’s fingers begin to tingle with the electric warmth he oh-so waited for, but only rarely grasps, Whumpee lies still, deaf to everything their keeper could and would offer them. 

So dramatic today, Whumper thinks to himself, still expecting the wild passion - the fire - inside his counterpart to ignite any second. They really shouldn’t sleep this long, especially in the cold and damp basement. His anger already replaced with forgiveness, he slides one hand under their torso to turn them around onto their back, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss them awake slowly.

Whumpee’s face is illuminated in the yellowish hue of the lights above, and any fairytale fantasy gets snuffed out in an instance. They stare, eyes finally sliding open with nothing but a dull reflection, framed by long red streaks of crusted blood, which cause lies just inches above their eyebrow.

It’s not just a split that drags over their forehead in an angry line, it’s a horrible veil for what lies beneath. The upper portion of the skull starts slowly dragging itself backwards, exposing splinters of bone that shift against each other with a harrowing crunch. Looking at the stiff muscles of their face, the etched-in desperation of the final blow he was responsible for, Whumper can do nothing but stare back.

"Dear?" he finally breathes, breaking the overwhelming silence of the room. Nothing.

"Whumpee, come on!" His voice is getting louder, begging for something that he already knows he is too late for.

"WHUMPEE, PLEASE!" 

Any other begs drifting through his mind die right in his throat, breaking up into silent sobs to wreck through his chest. Each wave carrying regret and desperation, which only add to the rising pressure in Whumper’s ears. Deafened by the blood coursing through his veins, he brings the ice-cold hands of his love up to cup them around his face, holding them up by the wrists. There is no comfort in it, just cold flesh against hot tears. Any remnants of the touch he so desperately craved following them down Whumpee’s hands, lost like the life they were supposed to have.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," The mantras keep on ringing through the room where Whumper remains, alone again.

"Please, Whumpee, please. Let me make this right." Where he tries to bargain with nothing but a memory of the person he longed to create.

"I love you, I love you, I love you so much..." Endlessly continuing to whisper the words Whumpee refused to utter, even till the end.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[jordanstrophe]

A whumper turned caretaker arch, but whumpee hasn’t realized the shift yet. Whumper fights their way just for a chance to speak to whumpee, but they’re immediately met with a calm, cold “Have you come to kill me?”

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: past beating

Deep purple bruises litter Whumpee’s body, swelling, and Whumper thinks they can see them moving, broken blood vessels pumping fervently underneath, and a gut-wrenching guilt settles in their stomach as Whumper looks at the fists that caused all of this.

Running downstairs, they throw the freezer door open and grab as many ice packs and frozen bags of vegetables as they can.  With full arms, they run back up the stairs.  Whumpee lays on the bed.  They groan in pain as they shift on the bed, and Whumper can almost feel their pain, feel the bruises being pressed against on their own body—then they chastise themself for thinking that they could understand what Whumpee’s going through when they’re the one that caused all of this pain.

They lay as many bags and ice packs as they can on Whumpee’s body.  Whumpee whimpers.

“I’m sorry, Whumpee.”

Whumper pulls up a chair and sits beside Whumpee on the bed, green eyes focused intently on their face.  They brush away stray strands of brown hair.  Whumpee flinches.  Pulling their hand away, Whumper sighs and looks away.

“Why?”

Whumper looks up.  “I…  I felt—no, feel guilty.

A chuckle leaves Whumpee’s cracked lips.  “I didn’t know you were capable of feeling guilt.”

To be honest, Whumper didn’t know they could feel guilt either.  They thought their cruelty knew no bounds, that they could make even the most deranged of serial killers vomit with what they could do… but now, they realize, they’re soft.  Their heart may as well be made out of putty.

“Well, I guess I am,” Whumper laughs in return (though there’s no humor in their voice).  “Would you believe me if I said I was sorry?”

“What do you think?”

Whumper rubs the back of their neck, embarrassment coloring their cheeks red.  “Ah.  Right.  Stupid question.”  They make eye contact with Whumpee.  “I really am sorry, though.”

“Why are you sorry now?”

“I don’t know.”

“And you expect me to believe you without any reason,” Whumpee scoffs.

Whumper takes Whumpee’s hand in theirs, ignoring their squirming and the falling of the ice packs.  “I’m sorry, Whumpee.  I really am.  I went too far this time, and I won’t do this ever again.  I’ll say it however many times I need to.”

“Then don’t say it again.”

“I know I don’t have the right to beg for your forgiveness—”

Whumpee sits up.  “Then fucking don’t.  Is this to make me feel better, or is it just to make yourself feel better?”

Whumper blinks.

“I’m going to assume it’s the latter,” Whumpee says, settling back down and placing the ice packs on the worst of their bruises.  “Don’t try and act like you care about me.  Not after what you did.”

“But—”

“But what, Whumper?  If you actually cared, you wouldn’t be doing this in the first place.”  Whumper gestures to the bruises and scars on their body.  “Now stop trying to act like a good person.  We both know you aren’t.”

Whumper keeps their mouth shut, a sinking feeling worse than the guilt enveloping their body.

[owl-witch-prompts]

Got this idea from a prompt about a fae who’s lover reincarnates and they don’t realize it until they’ve messed up. Forgot who it was that posted it. Write this a few years ago. Working on a full fanfic now.

They reincarnated? They reincarnated! 

The love of their life, so beautiful, strong, and full of love. They were back, they could finally see them again! Just as they were thinking of everything they would say, and do with their beloved they heard a soft cry from the cellar. 

They couldn’t help but to sigh in annoyance. The damned human never could just stay quiet, could they. He had torn out their tongue ages ago yet they still made noise at the most impromptu of times. Maybe he should go for their vocal cords, though their pained sounds were music to his ears. Humans had killed his beloved, yet this one dared to be so much like them. He couldn’t help but snatch them up, and make them feel all his pain and suffering. 

Their hair had been like theirs soft and glowing so he ripped it out in bloodied chunks, waiting for it to grow back so he could do it again, and again. Their eyes had the same beautiful shade of deep brown containing flecks of gold, holding a wisdom in those eyes far beyond their years. He plucked them out, storing them for safe keeping as this human had no right to such gifts. He had ripped out their tongue, as their voice was like his beloveds full of warmth and curiosity. He couldn’t stand it, yet like the eyes he kept and safely stored the tongue. He had done the same with what should have been his beloved's hair.

As he descended the stairs, something felt off. As if he had done something unforgivable, as if he had hurt them. That couldn’t be right though, he hadn’t even met their reincarnation yet. Right? It was then that he thought of the fact that when one reincarnates they don’t choose what they are, his beloved had been fae, but what were they now? 

Thinking back when he first met the human, it seemed as if something in their eyes recognized him. That's why they had followed him without a fuss, as if there was nothing to fear. He had thought it was human arrogance, but now that he thought about it, their eyes had held absolute trust for him. When he first began him torture of the human something inside their eyes seemed so hurt, as if something had been shattered. He couldn’t breath thinking back to everything he had done to them, and their reactions. Ones he had dismissed or used as further reasoning for his treatment of them.

They had not followed and trusted him because of arrogance or naivety, they had followed him because they were his beloved and despite this new life they had still trusted and loved him. He had tortured and tormented them, yet they never cursed him even while they still had their tongue. They had pleaded and begged, asking for him to listen, but he hadn’t. At this he stopped breathing, realization hitting him fully.

He ran down the last of the winding cellar stairs, desperate now to right every wrong even if it was truly impossible. He had to try and fix things, or at least them, undo the damage he had caused. It was only when he got t o the bottom of the stairs and saw them that he realized the true depth of his ignorance. How could he have not realized, how could he have not known? All this time he had been ruining his second chance, he had ruined his beloved. 

He ran to them causing them to smash into the wall behind them, they shivered in fear and pain trying to cover their mouth and nose. Their empty sockets held the remains of maggots that had eaten away at rotting tissues, their hair was a mangled bloodied mess decorated with patches of a missing scalp, their mouth was still decorated with dried blood from when he had taken their tongue. They were hardly more than bone at this point. 

He felt hot tears fall down his face, as he fell to his knees. He reached out, grabbing their stiff form, pulling them into what he hoped was a warm embrace. He whispered apologies and pleads for forgiveness, saying he hadn’t known. All they did was further stiffen and shake. Now he knew why fae were seen as monsters, how could they not be.

[nouseryetlol]

Been brain rotting a lot these days about the idea of a whumper being forced to hurt Whumpee.

Whumpee being a completely random bystander grabbed for the sake of Whumper's torture, essentially being an innocent bystander dragged into it.

Whumper who refuses at first. Maybe they're squeamish, maybe they don't do well with gore or blood, maybe they just don't have it in them to torture an innocent person. All that earns the two is a comparatively more hellish beating. The guilt gets so overwheming Whumper gives in, not for themself but as a mercy to Whumpee. All the while the guilt eats them alive.

Whumper and Whumpee starting to grow a bond, Whumper maybe even acting as a Caretaker in a desprate attempt to make up for the pain they caused, despite not being able to do much at all to make it stop. Fleeting moments of gentle touches and soothing words after torture sessions before Whumper is dragged back to their own cell.

And the dynamics after rescue! Does the trauma bond between Whumper and Whumpee keep them clung together? Maybe seeing the other is too painful for them, whether it's the gnawing guilt or the fear of pain that comes with seeing their face. Maybe a friendship that grows into a bitter resentment as they stay together, being all the other has but all it becomes is a painful reminder of their hell. The possibilities are endless.

Honestly I'm just a sucker for characters with guilt complexes.

[letitbehurt]

Intimate Whumpers who discover Whumpee’s deepest fear and dig their fingers into the wound.

[cultivating-whimpers]

{TW Implied Noncon/dubcon, betrayal}

~~~~~

"Spread your legs."

"....What?"

"Spread your legs."

Whumpee had heard them the first time, they had just hoped they didn't.

Tears are already stinging their eyes. They let out a small, shaky laugh as their head dips.

"Of course," they murmur, laying back and doing as they were told.

Of course Whumper was no different. Of course they had plans to fuck whumpee. Of course they're just like the others. No amount of soft smiles and pleasant conversation should have made Whumpee think differently.

As Whumper starts to remove their belt and Whumpee's tears begin to fall, Whumpee wonders why they thought it would be different.

~~~~~

~C.W.~

[whumperofworlds]

Caretaker found Whumpee, whom they had a fight with before Whumpee disappeared. They freed Whumpee from their bonds, before holding them tightly, tears streaming down their face.

"I'm so sorry, Whumpee," Caretaker whispered, "I didn't mean all the things I said!"

Whumpee shook their head, consciousness slipping. "N-no... you shouldn't have come..."

Caretaker's heart broke at this. Were they that upset with Caretaker over the fight? "I-I'm sorry, really, Whumpee! I'll make it up to you when we get h--"

"N-no..." Whumoee whimpered. "Whumper set you up. I-it's a trap!"

As if on cue, the cell door behind Caretaker slid shut with a bang. Caretaker turned, their eyes widened in shock.

"And so it is," Whumper's voice from behind the door spoke. "It's too bad you fell for it, Caretaker. Your loyalty costs both you and Whumpee."

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #20

Trope of the day: “You will regret touching them.”

_

Whumper's sick joy is visible in their smile as they explain to caretaker what they did to whumpee ... to the broken shell that is finally safe and at home. Caretaker didn't expect to find whumper that fast, but they seem to pride themself with their actions.

"They stopped screaming so fast ... almost as if they gave up immediately," whumper says with a happy sigh, knowing how provocative they are acting.

Anger makes their fists shake, they jaw clench as they take a step towards whumper and look them in the eye. Their own voice is low and almost soft when they finally utter their answer. “You will regret touching them.”

A spark in whumper's eyes is enough to make caretaker realise that they have already won. Whumper is scared. Because they should be.

When caretaker patches up their bruised and bloody knuckles, all they can think of is the satisfaction they felt when whumper lost their defiant smile.

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 24 - "I'm doing this because I care about you"

CW: dubcon touching, disabled Whumpee, regretful Whumper

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The Jays were winning - at least that's what Elliot suspected, given the commentators' roar coming from the TV.

He sat at the bottom end of the bed, Chris hovering over his left shoulder like a hawk, and tried his best to enjoy the late-afternoon baseball match.

For what felt like an eternity now, Chris had waited for a good day, a good hour to start this special kind of torture. One had to ask if there was any sense to it all. If Fahim's professional efforts back at the hospital left Elliot like this, what could the maker do against his permanent souvenir?

Still, Morris had fought tooth and nail for this chance and finally, he didn't dare to betray this hard-earned trust. Rule number one Elliot had made extremely clear: don't touch the hand. 

Okay then, Chris could work around that. He started slowly, dots of lotion were carefully rubbed across the neck and shoulder to help ease a first group of sore muscles.

Even one single touch burned like the infection was still lingering inside. Deep breaths kept Elliot stable, though he indulged in the fantasy of jumping up and out the window. Again and again, his muscles were worked until red, until circulation had found its way back towards them. 

Just as both men got used to the uncomfortable dynamic, Chris stumbled on a noticeably denser point inside the tissue.

Pressing down on the trigger point with more force, the good kind of pain, the one that brought relief with it, flooded Elliot. It even reached behind his eyes, coaxing a quiet moan out of him, as the finger fought the possible birthplace of the headaches that haunted him on really lousy days.

Satisfied with his subject's compliance, Chris dared to move lower, kneading along his upper arm as if he were trying to wring his biceps out like a wet towel. Call it pain-induced placebo, but Elliot felt a sense of ease spread underneath the constant burn.

A few inches further proximal, a cluster of hardened muscle cords slumbered underneath cold skin. Chris, using the same intensity as before, pressed his thumb into it.

A coiling sting, the bad kind this time, tore through his joints and made him leap up in surprise.

"Easy with the pressure, man."

"You're not wounded here," Chris claimed matter-of-factly.

What a pretty way to tell me to shut it, Elliot thought to himself. Even though the festering heat did have its root in the bright red scar under his fingers, it still sprouted throughout his upper body erratically. He groaned: "No, but-"

"Then it's fine."

"It's not, it hurts!"

Morris huffed, his face glowing crimson in the TV lighting: "I can get this to work, just be more patient."

"I'm not a rusty hinge you can bend straight again!"

Withdrawing quickly, too quickly for his nerves' liking, Elliot escaped the wrench-like hold. Great strategy, just squeeze every last drop of optimism from me.

Defeated and huffy, Chris just dropped back against the headboard and pulled him close against his chest. Another word and his Ell would probably give him the cold shoulder until dawn.

In silence, they returned to watch the game unfold. The Jays were definitely winning tonight.

Careful to let his hand rest at a relieving angle, they both knew that every step towards Elliot's recovery was frustratingly tedious and without any guarantee of success. Tomorrow, Chris would try again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[jordanstrophe]

Guilt-ridden whumpers. 

They cut whumpees free and hand-deliver them to their front door. 

But it still doesn’t feel good enough. 

They secretly follow them, making sure they recover well, treated well, and kept safe. But whumpee later gets captured by a second party.  Whumper of all people is the one who pays the ransom and saves their life.

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: injury, past abuse

“Do you think this’ll make up for everything?”

Whumpee sits still as Whumper applies ointment to their slowly-healing wounds, biting their lip as the jagged, rough skin aches, as Whumper presses their calloused fingers into Whumpee’s back and massages the cream into their skin.  They resist the urge to get up and run.

“Of course not.  I’m not stupid.”

Whumpee laughs.  “Aren’t you?  I mean, what’s the point of taking care of me?  Once I get my strength back, I could just kill you.  Is that what you want?”

“No.”

Whumpee frowns.  “Then what do you want?  Is this some sort of new torture method of yours?  Pretend to feel bad and take care of me, slowly gaining my trust so you can take it all away the next day?”

“That’s not it,” Whumper mumbles.  “Raise your arms?”

Complying, Whumpee continues, “There’s nothing you’re getting out of this, you know.  Or is it to make yourself feel better?  ‘Oh, look at me, I’m helping the person I tortured for months on end, so I’m not that bad of a person’…  Or something like that?  Is that it?”

“What if I just wanted to help you with no ulterior motive?”

Whumpee scoffs.  “I’ll believe that when pigs fly.”

“What will I have to do to get you to believe me?”  Whumper sighs, gently Whumpee’s back.  

To Whumpee’s surprise, they’re doing a good job.  “Hmm…  Turn yourself in?  Let me go?  But what would I know?  I’m just a dumb bitch, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not,” Whumper says.

Whumpee hums again, craning their neck back to look at Whumper.  “Huh?  Really?  I thought I was, according to you.  And according to you, I’m also a good-for-nothing idiot, a dumbass, a freak, a—”

“Shut up!”

Frozen still, Whumpee whips their head back around, blood replaced with lead as they stare at the wall.  Silence hangs in the air.  Whumpee bites their lip. 

“I’m sorry, Whumpee,” Whumper says, setting the roll of bandages on the bathroom sink.  “But you need to listen to me.  I’m doing this because…  because I’m genuinely sorry, okay?”

“And the sky is green,” Whumpee manages to spit through lips screwed shut.

Whumper sighs.  “You don’t have to believe me, but I’m telling the truth.  I really do want to see you get better.  This is the least I can do after everything… after everything I’ve done.”

“So it’s your way of atoning for your sins, huh?” Whumpee chuckles dryly.

“I guess it is,” Whumper mutters.

“I’m not going to forgive you, you know.”

Whumper gets up and rummages in the mirror cabinet for something.  “I don’t expect you to.”

“Good.”

Whumpee crosses their arms and looks away, a weird feeling welling in their chest as Whumper eyes at the bandages on their back with somber eyes.

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpcember Day 17: Fire

TW: Conditioned Whumpee, Whumper Turned Caretaker, Guilt, Mention of Kidnapping and Brainwashing, Self-Hatred

@whumpcember

Athena walked into the living room with a cup of tea in her hands. She was surprised to find Emory sitting at the fireplace with a blanket wrapped around him, watching the fire. She hummed and sat on the sofa. She took a sip of her tea and placed it on the end table next to her. 

She watched him closely, wondering why he decided to sit at the fireplace. Her gaze fell on the fading handprint around his neck. Guilt instantly rose in her chest. She regretted hurting Emory. She truly did. Sometimes she wished she never did. If she never did, would he even be willing to stay here? After all, Athena didn’t kidnap him just to hurt him. After that fateful day when she saw his body go limp and unresponsive, she did everything she could to fix her mistakes. Even though that meant forcing him to believe that someone else inflicted that pain onto him. But this was the only way to keep him here, within the safety of her home. 

Emory turned around and gave her a look of surprise. “Athena—Miss, I didn’t know you were here.” He dropped the blanket from his shoulders and faced her completely. “Is it okay if I sit with you?” 

“Oh—yes, always. Go ahead.” She patted the cushion next to her. 

“Okay.” He got up and sat alongside her. He paused for a moment, sitting awkwardly. Knowing what he was going to ask next, Athena pulled him into her side, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder. She brushed his curls with her hand, her guilt starting to deepen. 

“I’m so sorry Emory.” 

He raised his head with a confused expression. “Why are you sorry?” 

Athena stopped brushing his hair, realizing he doesn’t remember. She quickly looked for something to say. “I’m… Sorry for not giving you any cuddles lately.” She embraced him, feeling him flinch from the sudden action. 

“Oh, it’s okay Miss. Thank you.” He returned the embrace. She forced herself to smile. 

Yes, that’s her mistake. Neglecting to give Emory any physical affection. She was going to fix that. Just like she fixed everything else. Then it wouldn’t hurt her like she used to hurt him. It wouldn’t burn a hole in her heart every night she went to sleep. It wouldn’t eat away at her every time she saw his face like the fire ate away at the wood. 

If she just believed like he did, she wouldn’t slowly grow to hate herself.