Untitled

Repeating the exact thing their whumper said to them years and years ago. Whumper standing over a terrified whumpee, hearing themself say the same things that were said to them when they were cowering on the floor.. Whumper realizing that theyre repeating the same cycle... and if they dont stop, maybe the cycle will never stop..

They walk out the door. They walk down the dirt walkway from their house - their prison. At the edge of the property line they stop. Whumper watches from the doorway, posture relaxed.

Just one more step. Whumpee can see themselves go from a walk to a sprint as they get further and further away.

Just one step.

Just one.

Just one.

It's a mantra repeating itself over and over.

But nothing happens. They can't make themselves go.

For what's the point? They have nothing. No money, no transportion, and no one to go home to. They are truly and utterly alone. All they have to their name was the clothes on their back, and even then whumper had picked oit their clothes, citing them as a gift.

So yes they could leave. But this all behind them. But they won't. They can't. There's nothing.

They can't look whumper in the eye as they walk back; eyes downcast.

An arm wraps around their shoulder.

They let themselves be guided and maneuvered onto the couch. Whumpee pulls them close, onto their lap. Hands curl around their neck pulling them close.

Whumpee weeps.

Whumper just grins.

“oh my god stop throwing a fit,” whumper sneers, annoyance dripping from their voice. they give whumpee a hard, reprimanding shake, then return to pulling roughly at their clothes, stripping them with an almost casual, careless efficiency. “you’re never going to get any from anyone else. you should be on your knees thanking me for showing you a good time.”

“i don’t-“ whumpee can barely speak. their chest is heaving, their rapid, shallow breaths audible as they verge on hyperventilating. the air feels too thin to get enough of it. “this isn’t- i don’t want this. whumper, please, i don’t like this.”

they should be fighting harder. why aren’t they fighting harder? if they really fought they could probably get away but all they feel physically capable of - around the rushing lightheaded static that’s taken over their head, the inability to process what’s happening, the trembling fear and shock - is some weak struggling and wide-eyed trembling.

“you really can’t be so picky, whumpee. nobody else is offering to give you the good fucking you so clearly need. i’ve seen the way you are with [team/caretaker/friend], you’re basically begging for it.”

that’s not- whumpee doesn’t- whumpee has no idea what that even means. they don’t know what whumper is talking about.

CW: Pet whump, restraints, brainwashed whumpee

“Can you sit up for me, sweetheart?” Whumper asked.

Whumpee nodded. They started wriggling to sit up. They didn’t request help, and Whumper didn’t offer it. They rather enjoyed watching Whumpee struggle. Whumper smiled as Whumpee awkwardly and painstakingly squirmed to a seated position despite the restraints binding them. So perfectly willing now to comply with Whumper’s wishes even when it was difficult or uncomfortable.

“Good,” Whumper cooed. “I’ll be right back.” They left the room to get food for Whumpee.

When they came back, Whumpee was waiting calmly right where they’d left them. Whumper sat next to them on the bed.

They were going to hand-feed their pet. “Here.” Whumper held up a piece of food.

Whumpee seemed to know exactly how to respond. They leaned in and took it using their mouth, gentle and delicate and oh so polite. Delightful. Whumper smiled at that, and praised them softly.

They continued like that, occasionally offering a sip of water instead of a bite of food, until Whumpee was finished. Whumpee behaved beautifully the whole time.

When they were done, Whumpee said sweetly, “Thank you, Master.” Whumpee smiled at Whumper and shifted closer. Then they snuggled into Whumper. Whumpee’s cuddling was affectionate and a little needy.

Gosh, that was adorable. “There, good pet, you’re welcome,” Whumper murmured. They put an arm around Whumpee and held them close for a few moments, then started petting their hair with the other hand.

Whumpee not only allowed it but seemed to appreciate it, leaning their head and pushing closer into Whumper’s hold. Whumpee was so good.

Whumper cuddled them for a while longer, enjoying this.

This certainly bode well. But Whumper figured they should observe Whumpee’s behavior a little longer before jumping to a conclusion.

Read this before voting in both sides.

Whumpee escapes captivity from an evil religious whumper. Whumper may have tried to assimilate whumpee into religion. Caretaker helps whumpee recover. Whumpee finds out that the caretaker is the same religion as the whumper, becomes terrified of caretaker. Caretaker explains that they are very different from the whumper and how the whumper has twisted the religion all up for their evil purposes. Whumpee recovers, joins religion and learns to forgive (?)

so whumpee doesn't join or forgive but. here :)

content: religious whump, past trauma, rocky recovery, recovery fic, comfort

Whumpee didn't know. They couldn't have known. There was no indication of it, even now if they thought back — maybe aside from the fact that Caretaker had never cursed around them, carefully replacing every 'oh my god' with 'oh my gosh'. And come to think of it, they did leave Whumpee alone on Sunday mornings. But there, hidden in their nightstand drawer, was a Bible. The evidence was clear as day. Caretaker was Christian.

B plays with the bendy straw in her milkshake, flopping her head and hair to the side. "Why do you think I'm broken?"

A damn nears spits out their coffee. They have never once heard B talk about themself like that, always being the smart-ass in the room. "What?"

whumpee had hoped that whumper wouldn't notice. they'd closed their eyes and tried not to cry and willed their body to stop reacting and hoped that whumper wouldn't notice. but of course that's not what happened.

of course whumper noticed. of course whumpee's own body betraying them, reacting in a way that they've struggled to hide before, ashamed of it and sure there's something wrong with them. they've gotten more comfortable with it lately, more sure of themself, more open to exploring the part of them that's turned on by adrenaline, by exertion, by impacts and bruises and maybe even pain.

but this... they don't want any of this. they don't want this. whumper is hurting them and they want it to stop, they swear they want it to stop, but their body is just- is just reacting and they can't control it, they can't make it stop-

Whumpee being left at the altar on their wedding day by the Easter Bunny

That bastard of a furry. Whumpee thought they had him figured out. He gifted them roses, showered them in I love you’s, took them out to dates in fields of tulips doing fuck all.

Whumpee trusted him.

With all their insecurities, traumas, wants, fears. They thought this was the happy ending they needed. To finally be loved by the one person who understood them more than themselves. And it all fell apart and left a bigger void in their heart.

the other person is immediately concerned about their short term memory, like, "no?? you fell asleep as soon as you hit the mattress. you don't remember?"

and whumpee is like "no, i mean after that."

"you mean... while you were asleep?"

for whumper, sleep was always an invitation. now, whumpee suddenly remembers that they are allowed to be in charge of what happens to their body all the time.

the automatic assumption that it would've been logical and foreseeable that the person they fell asleep with would've sexually abused them while they were sleeping, god. that's so... it speaks to such an extensive objectification that they've experienced, such a prolonged stretch of repeated instances of abuse,

and the like. the initial offence from the other person, like what sort of a person do you think i am? you thought i'd do something like that to you? and then you slept beside me anyway?

noncon voyeurism

CW for screenshot: noncon + dubcon mentioned

they're so used to their own company that they forget it's normal to have contacts in their phone, to meet up with friends, to be invited to things.

they can't get close to people because they're scared of someone seeing the real them and deciding it's not worth the effort. and they don't want to tell the people they might actually be close to the truth because then they'll be forever treated differently, even if their friends say they won't.

Whumpee waking up to Whumper sitting at their bedside.

"Aw, were you worried about me?" they sneer in a weak voice.