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#creepy/intimate whumpee

captain-bo-bob-bobby · 2 years

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Whumpee had been taught that love is abuse. Whether by their guardians, or their Whumper, or even both; Whumpee had a skewed version of the world.

So by the time that Caretaker rescued Whumpee and helped them get better; Whumpee decided it was now or never.

Caretaker belongs to them now.

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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 6 months

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The Five Stages of Grief

Denial - "This can't be happening" // "I'm going to wake up any minute...it's only a nightmare..." // "None of this real, it can't be!" // "There's been a mistake!" // "They...they wouldn't leave me like this, they'll come rescue me, they will!"

Anger - "You can't do this to me!" // "Fuck you, you fucking psychopath!" // "I don't have to listen to you!" // "You're a goddamn coward!" // "Let me out of here so I can break your neck!" // "You'll be sorry when they come find me, creep!"

Bargaining - "Please, no, anything but that!" // "N-not the cattle prod, please, I'll do whatever you want!" // "No, don't hurt them! Hurt me instead, I can take it!" // "I'll let you touch me however you want just please don't use that!" // "I'll tell you whatever you want if you just let me go!"

Depression - "Do whatever you want, what's the point?" // "I don't think I have anything left to scream for you" // "Just kill me and get it over with" // "Just...just leave me alone..." // "Why are they taking so long to find me? Don't they care? Don't they love me?"

Acceptance - "I knew I deserved this..." // "I'll be good, I promise" // "I love you, too" // "They were never looking for me, were they?" // "Yes, sir/ma'am" // "What do you mean 'leave'? I can't leave, that's against the rules"

#whump #whump community #whumpee #whump scenario #whumper #whump ideas #implied whump #whump writing #whump prompt #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #carewhumper #whump prompts #whump dialogue

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martyr-inthedark · 9 days

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Bedroom

Let's just say Whumpee isn't kept in a dingy, dark, poorly-kept basement (or cell, or cage...).

Instead, Whumpee is kept in a beautiful bedroom. Maybe with the softest mattress, the fluffiest pillows, blankets made from quality furs and silks. The room is cleaned every day by Whumper's servants who bring Whumpee dinner and snacks are brought hot from the kitchens. But, freedom is limited, and true safety is nonexistent.

Guards are stood on a 24-hr schedule just outside the heavy spruce doors. Should Whumpee choose to stroll through the property, guards must accompany them. Servants were not discouraged from physically or otherwise abusing Whumpee, and were directed to report Whumpee's every move, every mistake, to Whumper. Whumpee wore a beautifully adorned collar, gold with radiant gems and small spikes on the inside it that bore a constant reminder of their situation. Whumper found it in his pleasure to pull on the collar and drag Whumpee back to that cursed bedroom should Whumpee make one wrong move in public. The next time Whumpee is allowed out, they are covered in bruises and freshly carved scabs.

The bedroom where the fire pokes are heated. Where iron shackles attached to the bedposts. Where clothes could be stripped. Where they could be drugged and left abandoned for days at a time. Where Whumpee could be forcibly held under their bathwater for two seconds too long. Where Whumpee had no choice but to relive the horrors of their day through nightmares. Where Whumper could sneak into their bed at night and take advantage of a sleeping Whumpee.

Where even the bed, with its velvet purple canopy and white furs, isn't safe.

#whump #whumpee #whump prompt #whumper #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #injury whump #drug whump

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abhainnwhump · 11 months

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Been obsessing over the idea of a Whumper who wants to live out a stereotypical family fantasy so they kidnap a few Whumpees to do it.

One Whumpee is their spouse. Whumpee is beautiful and caught Whumper's eye. They had a promising future before, but now they're stuck in this housewife role and have to suck up to their captor. They feel worse because they already have someone they love.

Another Whumpee is the kid. Whumper chose this one because of their small size and/or cute features. They have a cute bedroom, childish clothes, and limited access to information so they don't get too smart. They're also drugged most of the time so enjoy naps.

The last Whumpee is the pet. This one gets treated the worst. They have to act like a dog 24/7 and play fetch with the kid. Bonus points if this Whumpee was super cocky before and are now treated like an animal.

Whumper is the head of the household and makes sure everyone else stays in line. They want their family to be perfect, but they aren't against violence. They'll torture the Whumpees until "they love them again".

The Whumpees all befriend each other and plan to escape. They have to be careful so Whumper doesn't catch them, but they can't stay here.

#if anyone wants to write a whump/psychological thriller story but can't think of a premise #here you go #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #yandere whumper #whump #whump prompt #whumpblr #whump writing #whump tropes #conditioned whumpee #domestic whump #whumpee turned caretaker #pet whump #dude just play the Sims

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a-crumb-of-whump · 4 months

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Content: Creepy/intimate whumper, bruises/injuries, manipulation.

"Why do you hate me?" Whumpee sobbed into Whumper's chest. "What did I ever do to you?"

Whumper held them closer, allowing their tears to soak their shirt as the two cuddled against the headboard of the bed. They could feel where each of their captive's bruises were from the tensing of their muscles whenever they touched a certain spot on their body.

"Oh, honey. What on earth makes you think I hate you?" they whispered. "I don't do this to just anyone, you know. You get it because you're special."

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump thoughts #whump tropes #whump ideas #whump scenarios #whumpee #whumper #intimate whumper #creepy whumper

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jordanstrophe · 7 months

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Whumper keeps trying to touch and hold their delightful new captive, but whumpee fights and yanks away. So whumper tries punishing them if they so much as shy their neck away.

Whumpee now associates friendly touch with brutal pain, magnifying whumpee's reaction even worse.

-Whoopsies.

#whump #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whumper prompt #intimate whumper #controlling whumper #possessive whumper #whump tropes #defiant whumpee #whump angst #creepy whumper #conditioning whump #conditioned whumpee #kidnapped whumpee #captive wumpee

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redd956 · 8 months

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Characters Holding Each Other In Whump

This is my demand to see more characters holding each other in whump, but also my opportunity to go on about characters holding each other in whump.

I need more of it, it's so warm, and great when it's characters dependent and safe to one another. Or it's creepy and harrowing when it's between whumper and anything.

I need more of

Caretaker finally reaching whumpee, and pulling them to their chest. Now that they are within each other's arms Caretaker is not letting go.

Multiple whumpees who cannot see each other directly, but hear their voices and reach their hands just far enough to feel each other's touch. Maybe they're reaching out between cell bars, perhaps there's a hole in the walls of an enclosure, or an open slot to a lab. Either way, they've found a hand to hold.

A distraught whumpee crawling over to their only friend, and waiting to be pulled into someone's lap.

When a known threat (whumper) approaches and a protective character pulls another into their grasp to shield them.

Two shivering characters latched onto each other, removing as much space between themselves as possible. After all, what if someone separates them again?

Whumper holding whumpee from behind, swaying them back and forth, listening to the subtle sounds of fright.

Two words: Bridal Carry. Whumpee nuzzling their face into caretaker's chest for bonus points. For extra bonus points, latching onto to caretaker's clothing despite being carried.

Whumpee trying to escape from a whumper they've pummeled thoroughly, only for the half-conscious whumper to grab whumpee one last time. Is it a pleading? A don't go? Or just a final act of terror?

Caretaker sitting on the bed next to a whumpee, and bringing them into their grasp as they whimper.

#caretaker #caretaking #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whump prompt list #whump drabble #whump things #hurt/comfort #whump ideas #whump prompts #whump stuff #cw captivity #cw violence #creepy whumper #intimate caretaker #intimate whumper

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a-living-canvas · 2 months

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Blurry pictures

Whumper was…oddly kind, today. Whumpee overslept and they just…smiled at them. No hint of anger or annoyance. Maybe it's a reward for Whumpee after all the suffering they endured? Or maybe—

"Ah! S-sorry, Master! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Whumpee pleaded as they were cleaning up their mess. The coffee stained on Whumper's shirt usually would have resulted in Whumpee being whipped on their back by now. But, Whumper said nothing. They just smiled again. "It's okay, dear. No need to worry about it."

Whumper said as they stood up and walked to their room to change to a new clothes. Whumpee immediately made another coffee for Whumper. They got a head pat and compliment from Whumper after that.

That's…weird.

Whumper never being this affectionate before. What have gotten into them?

"Pet?"

Whumpee hurriedly knelt down in front of Whumper who was sitting on the couch. "Yes…Master?"

Whumper caressed the side of Whumpee's face. "Let's clean those wounds now, shall we?" Whumpee's eyes lit up at the suggestion. How they were desperately needed for their wounds and scars to be covered by bandages.

"Y-yes! Please, Master…"

They both sat still in silence for a long moment, as if they were waiting for something. Whumpee raised their eyebrows in confusion. Whumper sighed before they chuckled dryly.

"Okay, let me grab the First aid kit…"

Whumper stood up from their seat and took the emergency kit before coming back to the couch. They gritted their teeth at the sight of Whumpee not on their knees anymore but on the couch instead.They sat beside Whumpee and started treating the wounds.

Whumper's hands and movement strangely gentle today, not rough like always. They seemed to take extra precaution to make sure Whumpee felt comfortable and good at the moment.

"Eyes on the ground, Whumpee." Whumper said lightly. They weren't mad or anything, just reminding Whumpee to shift their gaze somewhere else instead of looking at them. Whumpee bowed their head in embarrassment for being caught staring.

"S-sorry, Master…"

Whumper hummed. "It's okay, don't do that again." I'll make sure you don't do that again.

Whumpee nodded instantly. Whumper was being awfully calm and they were silently grateful for that. After finally treating Whumpee's wounds, Whumper pulled Whumpee to lay on the couch with them. Whumper was hugging Whumpee from behind, their chin resting on Whumpee's shoulder. Silence enveloping them as the only sound of Whumper's soft breath filling the room.

"T-thank you for treating my wounds, Master…" Whumpee said, a little uncomfortable being embraced so tightly by Whumper. Their back pressed against their chest.

Whumper kissed the side of Whumpee's head. "You are welcome, dear. Now, just rest with me. Okay? Let those little muscles loosen up."

Whumpee nodded. As they were cuddling for almost five minutes, Whumper's hand grazed lightly on Whumpee's wounds. Not enough to make them scream, but enough to make them feel the pain. Whumpee let out a soft whimper at the feeling of their wounds being caressed.

Their elbow suddenly jerked up to the back, hitting Whumper's ribs as Whumper accidentally pressed their fingers a little too hard on the wound.

"M-master, I'm sorry! I'm sorry…!"

Whumper grunted in pain slightly before forcing a chuckle, "No…no, it's okay." Whumper tightened their hold on Whumpee. "It's okay, dear…"

Whumpee nodded, accepting the gentle fingers that running through their hair.

Whumpee was cleaning the bedroom when they noticed Whumper in a doorway, leaning slightly as they looked at them. Whumper smiled,

"Stop cleaning. You need to have a shower, now."

Whumper said as they grabbed Whumpee's wrist and led them to the bathroom. Whumpee obediently followed from behind. It's been a long time since they last showered. The thought of the water running down their skin made them feel a little giddy.

As they entered the bathroom, Whumper filled the bathtub with water. "You know the procedure." Whumper said. Whumpee obeyed and hopped in the water. They sighed softly as the warm sensation travelled across their skin.

Whumper started working on their hair, massaging the scalp with the shampoo.They both sat in silence before Whumper suddenly asked a question,

"Whumpee, do you remember how you spilled the coffee on my shirt this morning? And how it's my favourite shirt and the coffee was burning my skin? Do you know it's my favourite shirt?"

Whumpee froze. "W-why do you ask me this, Master…?"

Whumper shrugged, "Hmm, just wondering if you knew that all along and just wanted to piss me off." Whumpee's hands started trembling. They trusted the soft fingers that were massaging their scalp to not hurt them at any moment after this.

"I….I didn't know, Master…"

"Really? You didn't know?"

"Y-yes, I didn't—"

Whumper grabbed the back of Whumpee's head and shoved them into the water. They let out a muffled scream through the water as their hands were gripping on the edge of the bathtub. The moment Whumper pulled them back to the surface, Whumpee was gasping for air.

They let out a yelp when Whumper grabbed a fistful of their hair and brought their face to them.

"That's for staining my shirt. Do you like it?"

"I-I…N-no—"

Whumper tightened their grasp. "I asked you, do you like it?"

Whumpee swallowed hard, they were on the verge of crying. "I-I like it, Master…" they sighed softly the moment Whumper let go of their hair and walked to the drawer. Whumpee sat still on the bathtub, their knees pressed close to their chest.

Whumper stood behind them again, this time with something in their hand. Whumpee thought it was a loofah at first but as soon as it made contact with Whumpee's skin, they flinched before a loud scream could be heard inside the bathroom.

Whumper wrapped their fingers around Whumpee's neck tightly from behind, preventing them from moving as they washed their back with a wire dish scrubber. The soap, however, couldn't spread as much as loofah would on their skin leaving Whumpee writhed in pain.

"M-master, stop! Please…please!"

"Do you remember how you waited for me to bring the First aid kit for you?" Whumper scrubbed harder. "Who do you think you are, fool?"

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"And when you casually sat on the couch without my permission, you should be on your damn knees all the time, you know that?"

The wire brush was ripping their skin violently. Blood was dripping everywhere, making the water in the bathtub turning red. Whumpee let out a much louder scream upon seeing it, they were in so much pain but they knew Whumper wouldn't stop anytime soon.

As a matter of fact, Whumper started scrubbing on their scalp. Rough and scratchy, until the wire brush was covered with blood instead of body wash. Whumpee's legs were kicking under the water as they became a sobbing mess.

"I put up with you, today! Forcing out a smile even though I felt annoyed with you. Do you know how hard it was? To put up with an unlovable and annoying fucking thing like you."

Whumper pulled Whumpee out of the bathtub with just holding their neck before they let them fell to the floor. Whumper washed Whumpee's bloody form with clean water. The open wounds stung badly on their skin.

"Did you learn your lesson, pet?" Whumper asked in a threatening voice.

"Y-yes, Master…"

"Now, thank me for this. Thank me for giving you a lesson, so you will stop making another mistake in the future."

Whumpee swallowed hard, they sniffled a little. They wanted to run, anywhere but here. They just couldn't stand it anymore. It was all too much for them. With a heavy heart, they said,

"T-thank you, Master…"

#whump community #whump writing #whumpblr #whumper #whump #whump drabble #intimate/creepy whumper #whumpee #whumplr #intimate whumper

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whumptea · 1 year

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the sluttiest thing a whumper can do is wrap their arm around whumpees torso mid-escape attempt and growl a low “oh, no you don’t…” in their ear.

#whump blog #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump community #whump prompt #whump writing #kidnap whump #whump scenario #creepy whumper #whump scenes #whump ideas #intimate whumper #whump dialogue #whump tropes #whump things

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veryspecificwhump · 3 months

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Whumpee whose love language is touch. As in, they need to hug or be hugged pretty often just to stay sane. Whumpee who's so touch-starved and desperate that they crawl up to Whumper after being torture and cling to their leg, begging for a hug, to hold hands, something

I can see this going four ways, with one 'good ending'. First there are the smug options. Creepy Intimate Whumper who'ss smug because they know Whumpee won't fight them about crossing boundaries anymore. Whumpee's just too desperate. Regular Whumper who's smug because Whumpee just majorly overstepped,and now they have an excuse to punish them. (not that they need one, but it's nice to have evidence that Whumpee "deserves it") Who remarks every time there's a pause in Whumpee's screaming that they brought this on themselves. Then there are the shocked options. Whumper who's shocked and angry that Whumpee would ask for such a thing, and punishes them. (spur-of-the-moment as opposed to planned) Who is genuinely disgusted by Whumpee's whining and is willing to torture Whumpee into never doing that again. Finally, Whumper who is shocked, confused, and the slightest bit sympathetic. They hadn't realized how much Whumpee needed (benevolent) physical contact. Maybe they're whumping for a job and their heart isn't in it, maybe they don't really understand how much they're actually hurting Whumpee, but they're just the tiniest bit guilty and they hold Whumpee's hand. (While muttering about how high-maintenance Whumpee is, of course) Maybe they turn into a Caretaker, or a Carewhumper at the least.

#whump #whumpee #whumper #creepy intimate whumper #carewhumper #whump idea #whump scenario #whumper turned caretaker #touchstarved whumpee #i'm not projecting you're projecting #whump writing

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whumpasaurus101 · 10 months

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“I wouldn’t, if i were you.”

Whumpee froze, eyes widening as they bit back a whimper. Their hand quickly shut the book of files they had been reading from Whumper’s desk. They didn’t dare move after that.

“But then again,” Whumper hums, striding up behind Whumpee and gently traced their knife along the other’s cheekbone;

“You never seem to listen, do you?”

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astrowhump · 11 months

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Give me whumpers who do absolutely horrid things to their whumpee, with no follow-up comfort; But god forbid someone else tries to hurt whumpee—even worse, they try to steal whumpee away—that’s when whumper will burn the whole town down to rescue their beloved whumpee, only to drag them back into that old familiar basement.

“No one else gets to make you scream. No one. You will kneel at my feet, beg for my mercy. You’ll cry your sweet tears for me and only me.”

Bonus point if whumpee has stockholm syndrome.

#whump #one of my old drafts that never made it out #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #stockholm syndrome #whump writing #whump prompt #whump things #whump ideas #whump scenarios #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #whump community #defiant whumpee #whumper #whump drabble #whumpee #caretaker #whump stuff

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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 5 months

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girls like flowers, chocolates, and being forced to preform life saving medical procedures on victims, right?

#whump #my art #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #whump ideas #whump art #whump prompt #whump tropes #whumpblr #caretaker #reluctant caretaker #hand whump #yandere #male yandere #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #masked whumper

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abhainnwhump · 5 months

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

#happy 2024 everyone #hopefully happy #this has been a wild and quick year #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #psychological whump #psychological torture #manipulative whumper #defiant whumpee

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whumpitisthen · 2 months

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Too Much

alt.: How to Break a Defiant Whumpee 101, cws in tags!

When the lock clicks and the door opens once again, the foreboding light cascades down in the form of a person's shadow onto him and he cannot hold in a moan of distress.

He jerks his hands down against the cold floor in helpless, terrified frustration. His blood trickles from under the thick cable wire tying his wrists tightly together, collecting in a puddle with the rest of his spilled life force on the floor. Those cuts barely had time to close over, now torn open again. It cannot have been more than a couple hours since the last visit; what had he done to incur this unbearable punishment today? Who did he piss off this bad?

He listens to the familiar, heavy footsteps nearing him, hoping desperately that they aren't here for him. Unfortunately, those steel-toed boots enter his vision and do not leave, slowing to a stop right in front of his cell, peeking through the bars curiously. He wishes that just once, they would walk right past him; that he would be ignored and left alone. Alas, today has not been the luckiest.

"Oh, just look at you. Always such a sight for sore eyes."

"F-Fuck off."

Leaning up against the cell door, they trail their eyes along every inch of his skin. Of all his captors, this one might just be the worst, if only for their creepy fucking mannerisms. It's hard to forget about those intense, dark eyes and that impossibly smooth, gross voice that makes his skin crawl and keeps him company even in his nightmares. Among all the other things he was hoping for just a moment ago, not having to see them today was quite high up on his list.

They click their tongue. — "You still have your tongue then. Could've fooled me. You look awful."

Their grin made the insult sound more like a twisted compliment. He forces out another weak reply. — "Wow. Thanks."

They pause, tapping their index finger against one metal bar. They are just standing there, staring at him. Their expression is infuriatingly pleasant.

He fucking hates this. Why couldn't they just leave him alone today? Why does he have to be looking up at this terrifying motherfucker from the coldest, most uncomfortable corner of his cell, already exhausted, beaten halfway to death, and be forced to go through yet another round of pain? This just isn't fair.

They take a deep, content sigh, seemingly done with their sightseeing. — "Right."

They back up to stretch, then fit the key into the cell door, promptly sliding inside once it's open. His foreseeable future has swiftly become his near future, and he is anything but ready for it to become his present.

"W-Wait, wait, don't come in, you can't be ser— "

"How could I not when you look so lonely, cuddled up to the wall all by yourself?" — they sing, watching him struggle to push himself further into the corner he was left in by the one before them. From this close, it's even more apparent how rough he had it lately.

If the numerous black-purple pools of blood under his skin weren't enough, the fresh pool by his hand and the splatter of red across the walls would make it more than obvious. Everywhere they look they find another cut, another bruise, another mark and slash and burn. The ever present rings around his wrists are deeper, and now a new one resides around his throat like a collar. His eyes are dark and crimson, looking at them like he might just burst into tears.

He pushes his back into the wall with a cry. A new desperation has morphed his voice into something truly delicious. — "Just, leave, leave me alone!"

They smile innocently. — "Oh, should I? I'll consider it."

"No, stop, please — !" — his throat rasps and breaks his words, but that is nothing new. What is new, however, is the begging. This one has to be forced to beg usually, and now here he is, already close to sobbing for them to just let him be before they could even set a hand on him.

With something between a groan and a whimper, he twists his body to be hidden, curling up to the side and squeezing his eyes shut as he cowers, shaking, shielding his face with bound hands before they could even reach him. He looks utterly pathetic, and that melts their heart — but then they notice something truly surprising, something deviously intriguing.

"Don't tell me... Baby, are you crying? Already?" — They do not even try to hide the grin in their voice as they kneel in front of him. He only curls up tighter, sniffling. — "Now you're starting to worry me. This is very unlike you. I expect insults and swearing, not weeping."

He doesn't respond with anything but a huff of air. They try to peer behind those twitching fingers — a couple of them are definitely broken — but their curiosity isn't sated. The thought of finally having broken him crosses their mind. — "What happened?"

Their question goes unanswered. This guessing game is already starting to irritate them.

They take a light hold of one of those fractured fingers, leering; only a threat for now. — "You know I prefer screams to silence."

"Don't," — he half-wheezes.

"Talk to me then. What's troubling you, sweetheart?" — they cut him off entirely, cooing like they aren't the very reason he's like this.

"I'm... I'm scared."

"I can tell."

"I just — please, I-I just —"

They say nothing. He swallows dryly.

"I just don't want to be hurt again," — he whispers miserably, — "I can't, again, I can't — "

They still don't say anything. They still hold onto that damn finger. He almost wishes they would just get on with the torture instead of whatever this is.

"What, what do you want from me? Just fucking leave! Please!" — he yells, pleads, loses his mind a little more. — "Are you blind? Do you seriously want me to explain to you why I'm, why I'm having a-, a fucking meltdown?"

"I've barely had a, a single minute to myself today where I didn't have to en-entertain any of you pricks, and when I think it's finally over, when, when I get just a second, a m-, a moment to breathe," — he takes a strained couple inhales, almost hyperventilating before harshly gulping down his anxiety again, fighting sobs, — "y-you fucking show up. Like you always do. And, and now I'm here, yet again, left on the floor tired and, and hurt and bleeding — and you're, you're — it always g—, it never gets better. It never f-fffucking stops."

Nothing more is said for a while. They just watch him cry in his little corner coated in fresh blood, breaking apart in front of them. This is an incredible, rare sight. An important moment. They see a precious opportunity and they simply cannot resist seizing it.

They let go of his hand, gently laying their palm on his head instead. The gasp and the flinch are wonderfully unexpected, yet so beautiful to see. — "How many of us came today?" — they inquire softly, almost genuine.

His fragile throat lets out the most raw, wretched sounds they have ever heard him make. — "Y-You were the only one who hasn't. Eh-everyone and their mother came to visit me. I was really fucking hoping you wouldn't."

Ah. The others all took turns today, huh. They did a fine job at whittling him down. They don't even know how all of them managed to get their round in in such a short period of time.

"All five of us?"

"Yeah," — he mumbles. He's furiously wiping at his eyes, starting to lose all hope of getting any rest now that they are this close, and clearly not leaving any time soon. He hoped this embarrassing outbreak would at least deter them somehow, but none of his hopes today came true. They aren't exactly a bleeding heart who would change their mind about torturing him just because he's a little sad. If anything, he thinks, being this pathetic might have just spurred them on. — "But it doesn't, doesn't matter, does it? You sadistic freaks don't care about anything but, but beating the shit out of me any chance you get. I don't know why I thought that you of all people would understand."

This is perfect.

They lean in close. — "Me of all people? What's that supposed to mean? Am I special?"

"Especially annoying." — Now that's more like him. Retorts and insults flying out of his mouth like bullets. They really wish they could have him confess that he finds them the most intimidating out of everyone, that the ‘annoyance’, as he put it, comes from the fact that his backtalk doesn't have any effect on them, and that they know him on a deeper level than any of the others and that scares him more than anything — but they recognise when the moment allows for a play like that. He's already building up his walls again; they can't let this moment slip through their fingers.

"Mmm. Well, I have a proposal for you." — They dig their fingers under his great mess of locks, not unkind. — "Look at me."

"That's not a proposal."

"I'll tell you once you look at me."

"No."

They sink their hand in deeper, twisting into his hair like the claws of a beast. — "Come on. Don't you want to hear it?"

He only lifts his hands higher to hide behind, now muffling his tone. — "I know that, th-that you only want to see me cry."

They smile. — "Yes. And I know you want to avoid more pain."

This thinly veiled threat does two things: it pisses him off, and it brings back that foolish hope that they will take mercy on him if he behaves as they like.

Just one more push. A soft, light order. — "Look at me, baby."

Ordinarily, this would never work. He might even laugh in their face or spit at them for asking, especially so sweetly. This time, however, he is just a lonely, sad little guy in a cell, desperate for sweetness. They wait patiently. He shudders uncomfortably, snivelling.

Silently, with a deadly glare, he finally looks at them.

His eyes are red, puffy, and so, so tired. His lips are bitten bloody, cracked, pouting. The scar over his right cheek has been reopened, enlarged to run down the side of his neck. A gorgeous purple bruise has nestled under his left eye, running like paint in water across his skin. His tears drew clean streaks along his face, sliding down the length of his neck. It's beautiful, mesmerising. They are mesmerised for a little too long, though.

"I hate you so fucking much, you're so gross," — he hisses, done watching their eyes rake over him like an object while having the most adoring, fond smile doing so. It always sends a shiver down his spine when they do this, and having them be so close just makes it even more unbearable. He can clearly see their eyes refocus and return to make eye contact at his remark and it makes him nauseous.

It's fascinating how little bite his voice holds now, with the tears still flowing freely and his throat closed up. So many thoughts of torment run through their mind, images of taking advantage of this weakened state he is in and breaking him until there is nothing left, until he is like this all the time; crying and pitiful and obedient and lovely. None of that makes it to the surface.

"My proposal is this;" — they say instead, — "we could go on with what I had planned for today. This option includes this high voltage shock collar I brought with me."

As they turn to get the collar he assumes they must be bluffing, but horrifyingly enough, they turn back with a thick, black loop of leather with a box attached to it and a remote in their other hand, grinning excitedly. He remains silent in shock.

"Or," — they say after a pause to let him simmer in anticipation, setting their toy to the side, — "we could forget about that for now, and let you rest instead. How does that sound?"

He can barely believe his ears. They actually care? This is a trick, it must be.

"You're lying." — His splotchy face must have betrayed his bewilderment, because they murmur a chuckle before they respond.

"I am not. I can tell you are in a lot of pain."

They take a gamble as they take his head into their hand gingerly, turning him towards them by one shoulder and one cheek carefully, fully expecting him to struggle. There is resistance, as always, but quieter, just a small weight put behind pulling them forward which might as well just be his tired body refusing to cooperate. He says nothing. His lip wobbles. His expression is less cutting than usual, the edge replaced by worn flesh and agony.

They make an effort to remove all malice from their eyes, looking at him with sympathy and love instead. They give him exactly what he has been craving for the weeks he has been trapped here. Someone who can tell him they know he has been trying his best.

They look right into his eyes empathically, and sadly sigh; — "You're just tired, aren't you?"

Those are the magic words to open the gates to his true anguish. Something about this awfully simple, assuring sentence whispered so knowingly — it breaks something in him, and his eyes fill with fresh tears, and he cannot help the sobs bubbling to the surface. Because it is that simple, isn't it? He is so, so damn tired. All he wants is some rest. The assurance that someone sees him struggling, and understands how badly he hurts, and how little he really asks for. Coming from his torturer, it should not feel so liberating. But he is far past rationalism, his want for a single kind gesture has long become a burning need he would do anything for in this moment.

He may regret it later, but for now he leans into their hand as he lets every sob he ever swallowed down free, letting them see how broken he truly is already. From under all that grit and animosity comes pure childlike, innocent suffering, so potent he doesn't know what to do with it besides letting it envelop him. Just the right opportunity and a couple pokes, and he has crumbled under all this weight.

They lead him closer, pulling him out of his defensive position against the wall slowly to embrace him. He is all but powerless to stop his fragile form from moulding under their touch, gasping wretchedly in their arms. He is shivering like a leaf. It's intoxicating.

There they remain until his sobs weaken, and his exhausted body slumps against them like dead weight. Somewhere along the line they had let themself slide down to the ground, inviting him to lie on something soft for the first time in forever, even if it is only their own body. The floor isn't exactly clean — it's quite disgusting in fact — but it is well worth it to have this ball of resentment tamed for even a small bit, even if they have to lie on filth for it. This one instance of kindness will have lasting effects on their relationship and him as a person, even if he doesn't realise it, or even if he does. He will find it hard to look at them the same way, and will find it difficult to keep up his defiance in front of them when he knows they have seen him truly at his wits end.

He may let them touch him more often without a word. He may find it easier to do as they say without fighting. He may grow more attached to them through this, having a closer connection to them than to any of the others. He may even ask them again, once the time comes, to have mercy on him again, and they will give it to him, letting him fall deeper and deeper. He will have to swallow his pride, and he will only swallow it for them. This small moment will be crucial in the future. Maybe they could capitalise just a little more on this by telling the others they can't see him for a day. They will visit him tomorrow and ease his mind again, let him heal, see how he acts after this humiliating exchange.

The unconscious man in their arms will learn to be theirs with time; he has already made so much progress. This one is theirs, just as soon as it becomes too much to bear again.

...

He didn't even yell at them for calling him baby.

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