when-the-feet-hurt

[when-the-feet-hurt]

Your work is honestly so amazing and I always look forward to it. I’m saddened to see you leave for a bit but your overall happiness and mental health is what matters the most 🫶 enjoy your hiatus! You deserve it :)

thank you so much, anon! i hope you have a good day :)

#asks

[when-the-feet-hurt]

just so you all know, i’m going on an indefinite hiatus.  i’m burnt out, and writing whump isn’t enjoyable anymore.

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: minor language, violence

Whumper catches Caretaker’s fist in their hand, unflinching as they let go gently.  “Does this make you feel good about yourself?”

“Fuck you.”

“Yes, I know you hate me.  Now answer my question.”

Caretaker tries to throw another punch, only to once again be stopped by Whumper.  “Maybe I’d answer it if you were a little more specific.”

Whumper sighs.  “Can’t you  connect the dots?  I’m talking about you and Whumpee.”

Grabbing Whumper by their collar, Caretaker hisses, “Don’t say their name.”

“How else am I supposed to refer to them?”

“Don’t refer to them at all.  You don’t deserve to.”

Whumper raises their eyebrows.  “And you do?”

“Yes, because I actually treat them like a human being.”

“And is that out of kindness or something else?”

“Of course it’s out of kindness,” Caretaker says.  “Unlike you, I don’t want to see people get hurt.”

“Kindness,” Whumper repeats, tasting the word on their tongue like a foreign delicacy.  “Yes, it’s so kind of you to take care of Whumpee because it makes you feel good about yourself.”

“Don’t talk like you know me, you bastard.”

Whumper smiles.  “But we’ve known each other for quite a long time, haven’t we, Caretaker?  Remember all our time in school together?  Why, I’d say I know you better than our dear Whumpee does.”

Caretaker throws another punch, and this time, they succeed, but they fail to wipe the smirk off of Whumper’s face.

“You always helped the bullying victims, always volunteered to take a sick or injured person to the nurse… and you’d always do it with this infuriating smile on your face,” Whumper continues, caressing their bruised cheek.  “Do you get off on it?  Helping people?  Pretending to be a hero?”

“I never claimed to be a hero.”

“But don’t you act like one?  Always leaping up to protect the weak and helpless, then soaking up all the compliments and basking in the limelight.  Does it make you feel good, Caretaker, to pretend to be a good person?”

“Shut up,” Caretaker growls, slamming Whumper into the wall.  “You don’t know anything about being a good person.  You can’t talk.”

Whumper still smirks, their shit-eating grin growing wider and wider.  “It’s because I’m a bad person that I can talk about being a good person.  At least I’m honest with myself.  At least I know I’m not a good person.  But you?  You’re far worse, Caretaker.  Helping Whumpee just to boost your own ego?  Even I wouldn’t sink that low.”

Caretaker punches Whumper again, but the twinge of doubt in their eyes tells Whumper that they’ve won the real battle.

#whump writing

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: (threat of) drowning

“Don’t worry.  I’m right here.”

Whumpee holds their breath, sweat pouring from their brow despite the gentle hands supporting their back, despite the cool water lapping at their bare skin.

“Don’t let go,” they whimper.

Whumper smiles, though they know Whumpee can’t see it.  “I won’t, love.”

The thought tempts them.  How easy would it be to remove their hands from under Whumpee, to rip away the lifeline they cling to?  How funny would it be to watch Whumpee flail despite the lack of danger, to watch them splash around in the dark as they grasp at the air?  Just thinking about it almost makes Whumper laugh.

But today, they have to be kind.  They have to pretend to be gentle, to be caring and patient and all those other things they never bothered to be.  

“You know,” Whumper begins, letting their hands sink just a little, “humans can float on their own.”

Whumpee squirms, saltwater lapping at their legs.  “B-But still…  What if I sink?”

“I’ll be here.  Besides, the water’s shallow at this point.”

It’s shallow, but it’s enough for Whumpee to drown in.  A simple hand or knee on their neck could do it, the right amount of force as Whumpee thrashes in the water, coughing as stinging salt invades their airways…  God, what a sight that’d be.  It’d be prettier than the Mona Lisa.

“There’s still a chance that I could… I could drown.”

“I’d never let you drown.  Don’t you trust me?” Whumper says, frowning.

Whumpee looks up.  “Of course I do!  I’m…  I’m just saying that I don’t…  I don’t want you to take your hands off.”

“Under normal circumstances, you’d never say that.”  The cover of the night hides Whumper’s grin.

“I know, but you’re the only person here.”

Whumper lets their hands relax, palms detaching from the small of Whumpee’s back.  “And what’s that supposed to mean, Whumpee?  Would you rather Caretaker be here?”

“N-No,” Whumpee says. “You can be honest with me, love,” Whumper says, taking away their fingertips one by one.  “Do you want Caretaker to be here right now?”

Silence follows, then a small voice replying, “No.”

“Are you sure?  You always cry for them in your sleep.”

“I’m sure.”  Whumpee nods, sounding unsure.

Whumper places their hands back on Whumpee’s back.  “I’m glad we both enjoy our time together, darling.  There’s no place I’d rather be than with you.”

#whump writing

[when-the-feet-hurt]

Whumpee shivered, barely able to move. Their limbs felt like ice, their fingers numb. They could barely hear the footsteps coming closer.

“Oh Whumpee, what am I going to do with you?”

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

Dialogue for Caretaker helping Whumpee they hate/former Whumper

- "I hope I'm not around next time you get hurt."

- "Stop getting yourself into trouble. Bandages are expensive, you know."

- "Thank you for not hurting me, Caretaker." "Don't thank me. I'd kill you if I could forgive myself for it."

- "Get your own painkillers. I've given you enough already."

- "You don't deserve this, you know."

- "Change your bandages every day and get lots of rest, and you'll be fine in a few weeks. Now fuck off."

- "Yeah, you're a shitty person. But still a person. Nobody deserves to go through that, not even you."

- "You can walk on your own. It's just a sprain. I treated your injuries, I'm not carrying you too."

- "It's a damn shame I'm not heartless enough to leave you here."

- "Don't be so dramatic. This isn't near as bad as what you did to them."

- "Ugh, I guess I should help you."

- "No, I don't know what you've done. But I know that right now, you're bad hurt, so if you'd just let me help you this would be a lot easier for both of us."

#whumperflies

[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.

#whump writing #regretful whumper #whumper turned caretaker

[when-the-feet-hurt]

Winter

~ Whumpmas in July Day 27: Peace ~

content: escape, cold whump, captivity, defiant whumpee, major character death

have a real short one.

-

Whumpee panted hard as they ran, far away from that awful house. They clutched their bleeding stomach as the run slowed to a jog, then a walk, then a stumble, the red seeping over their arms.

It was so beautiful, despite the pain. Whumpee hadn’t been outside in years. Snow covered every surface, disturbed only by their footsteps and the pitter-patter of their blood. They’d always loved winter, those magical nights where all was quiet in the snow. Peaceful.

They looked back. Whumper was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t matter. They’d left a trail clear as day, marked in red. It was still snowing lightly, but it was unlikely that it would snow enough to cover the track before Whumper caught up to them.

They soon found themself unable to continue. They were tired, dizzy, cold. They may have loved the winter, but they weren’t dressed for it: why would they be? They shivered as they lowered themself to the ground, the soft snow making a freezing cushion underneath them. They couldn’t feel their toes anymore.

They uncurled their arms from their abdomen and laughed bitterly. The bleeding wasn’t stopping. Of course it wouldn’t. That was just their luck.

There was nothing out here for miles, this little secluded corner of the world Whumper kept them in. No one was going to find them.

Whumpee laid back, looking up at the cloud-covered sky. Snowflakes dotted their face as the cold seeped in through their thin clothes.

They waved their arms, making a snow angel. They’d always liked to do that, as a child. Whumpee remembered making snow angels with their family on snow days, all bundled up in their puffy winter jacket. They hadn’t seen their family in a long, long time.

They were so tired.

Whumpee didn’t try to get up. They knew this was it.

A look to their side revealed that their snow angel had red wings, stained with the blood coating their arms. That was kind of cool. It would be covered up by the snow soon enough, though.

Their serene quiet was interrupted by the crunch, crunch, crunch of someone distantly walking through the snow. There was no doubt in their mind about who it was, the only other person out here. Whumper.

Whumpee sighed, their breath ragged with shivers. A small smile graced their lips. Whumper was too late.

They died free.

-

@whumpmasinjuly​

general drabbles taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps​

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump​

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: beatings, language

“You’re pathetic,” Whumper snarls.  “Look at you.  You don’t even fight back.  It’s like you know you’re worthless.”

Whumpee does nothing.  They let themself lay limp on the floor as Whumper kicks them, not bothering to try and protect their internal organs as Whumper abuses the same spot over and over again.  Not a whimper, cry, or groan escapes their lips.  It hurts like hell, but they stay silent, eyes drifting off to a nondescript spot on the wall behind Whumper.

“I’m surprised you’re not crying.”  Another kick to the stomach, and this time, Whumpee bites the inside of their cheek.  “Or are you just trying to put on a tough guy act?  ‘Cause it isn’t working, you know.  I can see the tears in your eyes.”

Whumper grabs Whumpee’s hair and slams their face into their knee, and Whumpee’s eyes actually water.  Laughing, Whumper does it again.  Whumpee lets the tears flow from their eyes as blood flows from their nose, their face becoming wet and sticky as Whumper laughs.

“See?  I knew you were going to cry.  Do you want your mommy?”

Whumpee looks at Whumper, but keeps their lips shut.

Whumper frowns.  “Not much of a talker, are you?”

“I don’t talk to troglodytes.”

“Troglo—excuse me?  Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Whumpee nods.  “A troglodyte,” they repeat.

A boot connects with their face, and Whumpee feels a tooth or three come loose.  “You think you’re so cool, calling me names?  Well, I’m the one who’s in control here, you dumb bitch—”

“Am I really the one who’s a dumb bitch here?  I’m thinking it’s you.”

Another kick to the face.  “You’re in for a world of hurt, you cunt.”

“Oh, like I haven’t heard that one before.  You’re all the same,” Whumpee says.  “You want power.  You want to feel in control, so you go picking on the weakest person you can find and act like that makes you tough, act like you have some semblance of control, when in reality, you have—”

This time, Whumper’s a little more creative and slams their head back into the wall.  “Shut up before I rip your throat out.”

“And you people always act so barbaric, always resorting to violence.  It’s like you’re too dumb for mind games,” Whumpee continues.  They ignore the throbbing ache in the back of their skull, their breathing just the slightest bit heavier.  “Actually, you are.  You’re too dumb to do anything else but beat people up because that’s all you’re good for, aren’t you?”

“Shut up!”

Whumper picks up Whumpee by the collar and throws them onto the floor, their cheek colliding with hard, uneven stone as Whumper kicks and stomps on them.  Whumpee smiles at their victory.

#whump writing #defiant whumpee

[when-the-feet-hurt]

“They won’t pay.”

“Wh-what?”

“They won’t pay.” Whumper smiled. “You know what that means?”

Tears welled up in Whumpee’s eyes.

“You’re all mine.”

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

"It hurts,"

Whumpee was trembling, arms lashed above their head and back in shreds.

Almost reverently, Whumper turns to them, gently cupping their cheek.

"I know," the mutter, warm palm soothing over Whumpee's already flushed skin. "And it will continue to hurt until I get what I want."

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: slight language

“Whumpee,” Caretaker begins in a sing-song voice, “I’m thirsty.”

“I-I’m not giving you my blood,” Whumpee replies, standing up at their full height, yet only coming up to Caretaker’s chin.  “I’m not your bloodbag.”

“But it’s the least you could do for me.”

Whumpee tries to quell the shaking in their legs.  “I’m grateful for all you’re doing for me, but—”

“But what, Whumpee?”

“But I’m a person, and I have the right to my own body.”  Whumpee clenches and unclenches their fists at their sides.  “Just because you take care of me doesn’t mean you have the right to it.”

Caretaker smiles.  They slam a hand against the wall, pinning Whumpee to it.  Glowering down, they ask, “Doesn’t it, though?  Especially when you’re nothing but a freeloader…  I deserve a little something in return, don’t I?”

“I-I’ll get a job and pay you rent, a-anything you want.  Just not this.”

“Whumpee,” Caretaker sings again, their nails scratching against the wall.  “I’ve held myself back for a long, long time now.  Do you know how many times I’ve gone to bed dying of thirst because I respected your stupid little wishes?  Do you know much I’ve sacrificed for you?  Oh, of course you don’t.  Humans never understand.  You’re all such dumb creatures.”  Tilting Whumpee’s chin up, Caretaker glares at them, eyes glowing faintly.  “You’re not at the top of the food chain like you think you all are.  We’re at the top of it.  You all are lucky we don’t want to cause any trouble, because if we wanted to, we could topple your silly little society and turn it into a haven for us and a hell for you.”

“Just because you’re at the top of the food chain doesn’t make you any better,” Whumpee says.

Caretaker’s other hand forms a circle around Whumpee’s throat.  “Doesn’t it?  It means we’re stronger, faster, and more intelligent than you all—actually, what’s the point in explaining this to you?  You humans have always been so stubborn.”

Taking their hand off of the wall, Caretaker cranes Whumpee’s head back and sinks their fangs into fragile fresh, covering Whumpee’s mouth as they finally satiate their thirst.  Oh, this feels heavenly.  Who knew a lowlife’s blood would taste so good?

They want to keep drinking, but if they take any more, Whumpee is sure to faint, so they reluctantly pull out their fangs and lap at the remaining blood as Whumpee shakes in their grasp, tears of fear running down their face.  Caretaker can’t help but smile.

If they’d just known their place from the start, this wouldn’t have had to happen.

#whump writing #bad caretaker #vampire whumper

[when-the-feet-hurt]

sb using your muse’s hair to forcibly pull them upright/forcibly pull their head back so their neck is bare (and able to be threatened). Yeah

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

Collared/Muzzled whumpees. :>. Hehehe make writer brain go brrr. ~👻 anon

:)

Nice trope, I like the humiliation and dehumanization that comes along with it.

This is a lot different than what I usually write wow

Cw: pet whump, chains, creepy whumper, humiliation, dehumanization, collars, threats, pet names

“Whumpee, come here!” A loud voice shouted from across the room.

From where they sat curled in the corner of the living room, Whumpee peeked up, their eyes wide with curiosity as they looked to Whumper. Their captor smiled back at them, holding up a small brown package.

“Look, I got something for you!” Whumper exclaimed, giving the parcel a small shake. “Come here!”

Whumpee swallowed, their nerves beginning to act up as they slowly stood. The single shackle locked around their ankle rattled loudly as they shuffled across the room, the chain links dragging across the wood.

Once they were close enough, Whumper hooked an arm around them and drew them in closer, grinning widely.

“Why don’t you open it, pet?” Whumper chuckled, passing the package along to Whumpee. Whumpee’s cheeks flushed at the name, a subtle humiliation taking over their features as they turned the box in their hands. They hated themself for following Whumper’s orders, for never snapping back whenever whumper called them some degrading name or forced them to do something utterly dehumanizing. They hated how they went along with it, but they knew they had no choice.

Whumper had made it quite clear last time what they did to disobedient “pets”.

Whumpee fit their nails through the little crack in the box, slowly ripping through the layers of tape and packaging until they got to what was inside.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Whumper laughed, reaching over Whumpee’s arm and plucking the collar from amidst the bubble wrap and cardboard. “I know blue’s your favorite color!”

Whumpee’s heart seemed to sink, the little excited light quickly fading from their eyes. They didn’t know what they had been expecting, but this.. this was a whole different level of humiliating.

“See, isn’t it perfect?” Whumper asked, holding the thing up so Whumpee could see. “I got a personalized tag and everything- Property of Whumper! That way you’ll never forget who you belong to! Oh- turn around, let me put it on!”

Hot tears began to prick the corners of Whumpee’s eyes as they slowly turned their back towards Whumper. Even though they knew it was coming, they couldn’t help but flinch as the soft fabric brushed against their throat.

“I made sure that it wouldn’t be too rough,” Whumper explained as they slipped three fingers between the collar and Whumpee’s neck, taking care not to buckle it too tight. “The leather collars looked sturdier but painful, I didn’t want you to have to go through that.”

Whumpee shuddered as Whumper ruffled their hair and stepped back, turning around so they were facing their captor.

“This one doesn’t have a lock either, but I’m sure we could fit a tiny padlock on if need be,” Whumper grinned, examining the way the blue material contrasted Whumpee’s bruised and scarred skin. “If you need to loosen it, that’s fine, but if I see you take it off without permission-”

Whumper grabbed Whumpee by the collar and dragged them in close, watching as Whumpee gasped and shrunk back.

“I swear to god I’ll break every single bone in both your hands, are we clear?”

@whumpasaurus101 reminded me of you xx

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: language

“I can’t believe you’d do this, Whumpee.”

Whumper holds a picture in between their fingers, arm outstretched and nose scrunched up like the thing is a piece of foul-smelling trash.  They frown.  Whumpee glares at them, reaching out with short, chubby fingers to try and take what was stolen from them—but Whumper raises their arm and holds it just out of reach, wagging their pointer finger.

“I’m supposed to be the only person on your mind, Whumpee.  How can you even think about Caretaker after all we’ve been through together?  Do I need to remind you that it’s been months and they still haven’t come for you?”

“They’ll come,” Whumpee says.  “I know they will.”

Whumper raises their eyebrows.  “Really?  It’s taking them an awfully long time, then.”

“You don’t know them!  They’ve got… a lot going on.  They’re just busy.  They’re going to come for me one of these days.”

“Ah, I see.  So they’re too busy to come rescue you…  To me, that sounds like you’re not important to them.  But what do I know?”  Whumper shrugs.  “I’m just the big bad kidnapper who doesn’t have an ounce of kindness in their soul.”

Whumpee clenches their fist.  “Stop acting like anything you do is out of kindness.  You just want to domesticate me like I’m a dog.”

“Domesticate?  Why, Whumpee, I don’t think of you as an animal.  I think of you as a fellow person, a person I want to become closer to…  But unfortunately, you’re not letting me do that.  You’re still holding onto someone.”  Whumper takes the picture of Caretaker in both hands.  “And I can’t have that.”

“Don’t you dare—”

The sound of paper tearing in two interrupts Whumpee, and their heart aches as Whumper not only rips the photograph in two, but continues until their precious memory is nothing but a bunch of tiny pieces of paper on the floor.  There’s no possible hope that maybe, just maybe, they can tape it back together.  Now, the picture of Caretaker, the one where their eyes looked so bright, the one where their smile stretched from ear to ear as they laughed is gone, shredded at Whumper’s feet as they tilt Whumpee’s chin up to look at them.

“I told you, Whumpee.  The only person you should be thinking about is me.  I should be the only one in your heart.”

Whumpee cries, hot tears of anger running down their face.  “Fuck you.”

“I wouldn’t have to be so cruel if you’d just give in,” Whumper whispers.

“Never.”

“I see.”  Whumper frowns.  They reach for something behind their back—a small pocket knife Whumpee failed to notice.  “Then I’ll just break you and put the pieces back together however I see fit.”

#whump writing #defiant whumpee #emotional whump

[when-the-feet-hurt]

Whump words ask game: needle, sleep, and bandages please!

Hi anon! Of course! Thanks for requesting this, here you go!

From this ask game

Whumper pulled the last of the bandages tightly across Whumpee's leg, ensuring that any further bleeding would be stopped. Whumpee sat on the bed in the room Whumper had given them with an anxious look on their face.

"There," Whumper said, "all done. You're lucky I managed to catch up with you, you could've bled out with a wound like this."

"I wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't taken me in the first place," Whumpee muttered.

"Correction," Whumper said, "you wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't ran away and then promptly get stabbed by a random mugger. It's thanks to me you're still alive."

Whumpee flinched at Whumper' tone. Whumper noticed this and their features softened. They cupped Whumpee's face with a hand and drew their thumb across their cheek.

"I'm not mad at you, darling," Whumper said, "we just need to work on your communication skills. Running away from home isn't the answer."

Whumper got up and set the roll of bandages on the bedside table.

"Now," Whumper said, opening the bedside table drawer, "you've had quite an ordeal today, and you could do with a good night's sleep."

Whumper pulled out a syringe filled with clear liquid from the drawer.

"Give me your arm, love," Whumper said gently.

Whumpee's eyes widened. They clutched their arm protectively and scooted back on the bed.

"Come now, darling, don't be like that," Whumper said, "you haven't had a proper rest in days. It's for your own good."

Whumpee wasn't listening. All they saw was the needle on the end of the syringe. Whumpee froze. They barely felt Whumper take their arm. They distantly watched the needle enter their skin and saw the contents empty from the syringe. Within seconds, it was over.

"Whumpee," Whumper said, "breathe, love."

Whumpee hadn't even noticed that they were hyperventilating. Whumpee looked away from their arm and up at Whumper. Whumper wrapped Whumpee in a soft embrace.

"Shhh," Whumper cooed, "just do it with me. In..."

Whumpee knew better than to fight, so they took a deep breath.

"...and out."

Whumpee exhaled shakily.

"Very good. In again..."

Whumpee did as they were told. They breathed with Whumper for about a minute longer before they began to feel very drowsy.

"Wh-Whumper-" Whumpee tried, their eyes blinking heavily.

"That's it, love, that's it," Whumper said.

Whumper gently moved Whumpee so they were laying in the bed. Whumper pulled the covers up to Whumpee's chin and planted a small kiss on their forehead. Whumpee wanted to flinch, but they were just so tired. Their eyes fluttered shut. The last thing they heard before drifting off was Whumper's voice.

"Go to sleep, darling," Whumper said, "we'll talk more in the morning."

#whumperflies

[when-the-feet-hurt]

A Whumper who prefers to use bruises around Whumpee’s neck as a collar to remind them who they belong to

#whumperflies