Whumper flicks the side of Whumpee's head with a huff of annoyance, going back to reading their book.

Whumpee ignores the brief sting of pain, weaving their fingers together and fixing their eyes on the floor. "Why are you.." They mouth the words to themselves, barely a whisper escaping them, before they take a short breath and speak properly. "Why are you so.. mean to me? I don't know what I did. I don't ever know what I did. You're always upset with me."

"Because you're annoying." Whumper answers without missing a beat, turning the page. They feel Whumpee's eyes hovering on them, though, so they roll their eyes and close their book. "Because I don't like you, Whumpee. I don't know how you ever got it in your head that I do." They reach up to pat Whumpee's cheek patronizingly. "But I keep you around because you're useful, and I don't throw away things I have a use for. So be a dear and get supper started, will you? Make up something creative tonight."

After a pause and a frown, Whumpee stands up to do just that.

When Caretaker had returned from work that day, the first thing they did was make a steaming cup of raspberry tea. They like to settle in a reading nook in their bedroom, hands wrapped around their cup, while an open book sits on their lap. It makes for a wonderful afternoon, especially when they're exhausted and frustrated from the day - which is most days. 

The knock at the door makes them sigh. Just as they'd settled down, too. They considered ignoring it, but when they hear another knock, the haul themselves up with a grumble and pad to their front door.

The person at their door is made clear to them once they open it. No, not a person. A pet, kneeling in front of their door and shivering from the cold. 

- 

Pet trembles, resisting the urge to hide their face in their hands. Oh, they've never been more embarrassed, not ever. Being thrown out was humiliating enough - but getting so desperate to beg in front of doorsteps to be taken in? They could hardly think about it without wanting to hide in a cabinet somewhere and never come out! 

But what else could they do? It was the middle of winter, Pet was starving, and sleeping on the streets was sure to freeze them to death. No one wanted to take in an ugly pet like that, especially not one that had so clearly been thrown out. No, they had to take matters into their own hands. Which was stupid, too - no one wants a pushy pet, either! No wonder Pet had been thrown out!

They bow their head submissively, then move a bit to point to a collar wrapped around their neck. No nametag. “I, I’m a pet,” They say, like it wasn’t obvious. Stupid. Off to a great start, making the human feel dumb already. “A-and, I, I’m already trained, I’m obedient, I can do any chore you need. Or- or don’t need. I can be pretty, or- or sweet, or- or anything, and..” They trail off, hearing a dog bark from within the house. Their heart sinks. This human already has a pet, and a dog at that. Dogs are much easier to handle, and more rewarding, too. “And anything you want.” They finish quietly, shoulders slumped. Where will they go now? It’s nearing night, and it smells like it’s going to start raining.

They feels the human’s eyes on him, probably looking for flaws. They aren’t hard to find, Pet has plenty of them.

Instead of kicking them down, or slamming the door shut, the human squats down in front of them. Pet's shivering gets more frantic. Stupid, stupid! Sit still, you just said you were trained!

“Hey,” The human said. Their voice is low, and nasally, but comforting to hear. “Do you want to come inside? You look like you’re just about to freeze to death.”

Colors explode in Whumpee's vision. They grin, maneuvering through the crowd expertly. The pump of the music fills their ears, making their chest vibrate. In one hand, they nurse a beer, while the other claps down on the shoulder of Whumper.

"Shit, are you drunk already?" Whumper shouts over the music, watching Whumpee try to subtly lean on them.

Whumpee grins at them, nodding, raising their glass vaguely and downing it.

"Bastard! We just got here!"

Whumpee laughs, and Whumper does too, the kind that's contagious and makes the both of them laugh harder. They love Whumper like this.

"Hey, don't forget," Whumper says, tapping their breast pocket. Whumpee blinks, glancing down, spotting the baggie tucked safely away. Oh, yeah. They're supposed to be dealing with that, aren't they? "You forgot, didn't you?" Whumper smiles, snorting. "Dumbass, give it to me." They lean forward. "I got some stuff for us to smoke at home. Don't give me that look!"

-

Later, when they're lying on the couch and barely awake, only just registering Whumper straddling their chest, they remember why they hate smoking so much.

"Whumpee, come on. You're being unfair." Caretaker crosses their arms. "How was I supposed to know that shit would freak you out?"

"You, you weren't," Whumpee responds, trying to even their voice out. "It - it isn't your fault. I just need a second to ground myself, that's all." They wipe their nose, rubbing their eyes furiously. "I'm sorry. I'll pull myself together."

"Yeah, you better," Caretaker mumbles. "We can't even hang out like we used to anymore. I'm not Whumper. You know that. So why are you still so scared of me?"

"I'm not! I'm, I'm getting better, I swear, I just -- I don't know why I'm like this, I'm trying to get better.." Whumpee looks down, staring at the carpet.

Caretaker throws their hands up, exasperated. "Fine! Whatever!" They move towards Whumpee's front door, pulling their coat on. "Call me when I don't have to spend every ten minutes reassuring you over some stupid bullshit."

Whumpee stays sitting, willing away tears.

zeke and tobias, part 5

finally !  warnings: captivity, human weapons, implications of torture tagging: @livingforthewhump @firewheeesky “Alright, soldier.” Tobias clears his throat, tapping his papers on the table to straighten them and sitting up ridiculously straight. He looks over to Zeke, grinning.  Zeke stares back, one hand wrapped loosely around their bandaged waist. They look unimpressed, slumped in the chair across Villain. “Alright, alright. Maybe loosen up a bit, though.” Tobias leafs through his folder, humming softly. Zeke recognizes the tune, but they keep it to themselves. “Pretend we’re on a gameshow. You ever seen one of those? Trashy, but man, they’re entertaining.” Another glance at Zeke. Another bored expression back. “Question 1: You know where Hero is?”  They blink, giving Villain a blank stare. Zeke hadn’t expected him to start with that right off the bat. “No,” They answer anyway, shifting their position a bit. Their back is still sore from that guard. “If I did, I would have escaped already.” Ares would’ve been so proud of them if they did that. He’d never think about replacing them again.  Villain laughs. Zeke decides they don’t like his laugh. “Good point. I’ll take it. Question 2: Do you know where Hero wants to be?” “The fucking Bahamas, I don’t know.” They’re surprised at their tone. They never cuss. Not in front of Ares, at least. And they always, always give straight answers. True answers. They’re supposed to.   Villain laughs again. “Funny. You’re funny. I can see why Hero keeps you around.” Why does that make Zeke’s stomach flip? “Question 3: You plan on answering these anytime soon?”  “No.” There’s a straight answer. True, too. Villain gives them a weird sort of half-shrug half-nod, which irritates Zeke greatly. They don’t know why. Everything Villain does irritates them.  They look down at their palms, exhaling slowly. Warm. Almost, almost glowing that soft light that made Ares curious about Zeke in the first place. Just a few more days and they can do what they’re meant to do. No guards to bother them - Villain had kept that promise, surprisingly - and Villain doesn’t look very keen on fighting, either. Zeke can’t lose.  “You done with that inner-monologue?” Villain’s annoying voice interrupts their thoughts. They looks up, dull eyes boring into Villain’s friendly ones. Stupid.  “Great. Listen, you don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to. Just look over them, okay?” Villain unclips one of his papers from his folder, pushing it towards Zeke.  A long list of questions. Zeke picks it up, crumples it in their fist, and tosses it toward their cot.  “...Or, that, too.” Villain stands up, tucking their folder under their arm. “It’s almost suppertime. I’ll bring your food over as soon as I can.”  “Bring more this time. I’m hungry.” They know Villain will. He’s far too concerned over them for a villain, Zeke thinks. But they’ll take advantage of it if they can.

this book sucks because the character relationships went from this

to this

??? WHY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER NOT IN JAIL. THIS HAPPENED IN THE MANNER OF 1 DAY. THIS BOOK IS SO BAD I HATE IT

you need therapy

The scent of a recent rainfall fills Whumpee's nose as they head into the woods. They readjust their grip on the bridle, shifting uncomfortably. Their horse bristles in agreement. Whumpee is not a fan of the woods.

Still, they'd rather be on their own horse than Whumper's. That's a plus. Though, they aren't sure how they feel about Whumper trusting them not to run off. They should be happy, but a thick knot of dread rests in their stomach when they remember they'd never run off.

Eyeing Whumper's back warily, they slow a bit. Somehow, even Whumper's horse seems to be cruel. Their feet have been stepped on multiple times, and Whumper's horse seems to constantly pick a fight with Whumpee's.

"Stop." Whumper says suddenly, and Whumpee pulls on their bridle. Their horse huffs impatiently. "We'll camp out here for the evening." As the two of them hop off their steeds, Whumper looks to Whumpee with a scowl. "And what are you doing with your hood off?"

Whumpee blinks, avoiding eye contact by busying themselves with running their stirrups up. "There isn't anyone here," They murmur, one hand coming up to feel the fabric of it. "No one would recognize me even if there was."

That earns them a swift smack to the head. "Put it back on, you don't know who we'll come across. I don't want to see that ugly face anyway."

Reluctantly, Whumpee pulls it back up. It's a simple hood, one that conceals the sharp features of their face enough to not draw attention. Whumper wants them to wear it so as not to have anyone recognize them.

Whumpee's been with Whumper for years now. If they were going to be saved, they would have already.

"Hitch these two and start a fire." Whumpee takes the bridle of Whumper's horse skeptically. "I'll scout the area." They don't even warn Whumpee about running off. It makes their heart sink when they realize how obedient they've become.

After setting up the two horses a safe distance away - and burying their face in their horse's mane for a brief moment of comfort - they set up camp. The pair will often camp out, as they're constantly travelling between villages. Whumper is a merchant, and a rather popular one, at that. At least they can afford quality things. Silver linings, Whumpee thinks.

The fire crackles quietly, and Whumpee begins to wonder if they're supposed to be preparing food when they hear a shout across the woods. So much for avoiding suspicion.

"Whumpee! Get over here, now!"

Frowning, they pull themselves up, lighting a lantern on the way. Whumper's location immediately becomes apparent to them by the sound of weeping. What?

"Took you long enough." Whumper hisses when Whumpee is close enough, snatching the lantern out of their hand and shining it on the weeping figure below them.

A thin, shaking being, tears and snot running down their face. They're pleading, whimpers of "please" and "don't" barely louder than a whisper escaping their lips. Whumpee stares down at them, frowning.

"Pick it up." Whumper says, and Whumpee (for once) doesn't obey immediately. "Go on, pick it up!" They repeat, knocking Whumpee's wrist with the side of the lantern.

Shaking their head quickly, Whumpee kneels down to gather the shaking figure in their arms. It reminds them of themself, almost. Almost. They weren't quite so pitiful.

"Set it in front of the fire when we get back, and make stew." Whumper says, scratching their chin as they walk. "Make the usual amount, it can just eat your serving."

Whumpee gives Whumper a huff at the bluntness. "I can make three servings." They grumble. "We have enough."

Another smack. "You'll make however much I say. You could do without a meal, anyway."

"I suppose it'll be using my blanket, too?" Whumpee asks bitterly, and Whumper raises their eyebrows.

"Good idea, Whumpee." Whumper smirks at the groan that elicits from the other. "Hey, if you get cold, you could always cuddle up with me like you used to." They snake an arm around Whumpee's waist.

Whumpee grunts in response, pulling away from Whumper. "I'll sleep with the horses."

The figure groans in pain as it's set down in front of the fire. Whumper immediately kneels down, seemingly to comfort it, which has Whumpee dumbfounded. Whumper has hardly even complimented Whumpee, much less tended to their wounds or gently checked them for fever.

As Whumpee digs through their food bag, they decide they do not like this new person already.