#Recovery whump

[whump-in-the-closet]

whumpees should wipe their own tears away more often. With scratched palms and battered hands, nails ripped, like they've clawed a path for their own existence out of the dirt itself. You know, the kind of crying where they tilt their head up, hoping gravity will push the tears back in, digging their palms into their eyes until they see sparks. Sharp inhales, sharper exhales. Trying to stop crying with everything in them, every nerve, every fiber, but the tears still leak through.

Willpower can only take them so far.

And better still, others are watching-- friends unsure or Whumper laughing. A stranger rushing to help or an enemy looking away to give them a semblance of privacy.

[scumashling]

Caretaker and Whumpee's First Meal Together

Past non con drugging, former Whumpee Caretaker

Caretaker has gone to painstaking lengths to make sure every aspect of the dinner is perfect, from the meat to the crispy potatoes to the dinner cocktail. It is, after all, Whumpee's first real dinner since they got away from Whumper, and after everything they'd been put through, and how skittish Whumpee still is, Caretaker wants more then anything for it to be a good one. The dinner is going well. Whumpee talks with their hands a lot, bright eyed and friendly, if a little nervous, a tight smile across their face. All seems well, except as Caretaker digs in they notice Whumpee isn't. They seem distracted, less interested in eating the meal and more into cutting it up into bite sized pieces and shuffling them around the plate. Whumpee is also spending an unusual amount of time observing the glass that holds their drink, holding the beverage up to the light, only taking scant, small sips, as if trying to taste for something.

"Is there something wrong with the food?" Caretaker asks, crestfallen at the idea that the first meal they prepared had failed to impress. Whumpee's eyes dart up, the forced grin they'd been wearing all night stretching further.

"Oh no! You did such a good job, Caretaker! I'm very grateful." They reassure caretaker. Their voice does not sound genuine, words coming out in rapid fire as if they'd rehearsed them in their head. God damnit.

"If you don't like it, I can make-" Caretaker sighed. Whumpee's left hand slams downs on the table before Caretaker can finish, the right still clutching the glass in their hand tight. The way they slightly tremble shakes the table and sloshes their drink, voice quickening to a high pitch. Caretaker detects a strained note of panic, despite Whumpee's efforts to mask it.

"No, no no no, please don't bother yourself with that, you must've worked so hard and I'm so thankful for everything you've done-its just-I just-" Whumpee's eyes zip back to the glass in their right hand, studying the liquid inside.

It has been a long time since Caretaker had been with Whumper. Sometimes, the memories seem so far away that Caretaker wondered if the whole ordeal had happened to someone else, or if Caretaker had simply made the whole thing up. It didn't help that Caretaker had spent most of that horrible time drugged out of their mind, courtesy of Whumper, unable to move, barely conscious yet all to aware of what was happening at the same time as Whumper hurt them.

It suddenly dawns on Caretaker that Whumpee fascination with the glass might not be out of politeness in the face of an inedible meal. They were looking for signs, strange taste, a strange fizz, if the liquid was cloudy, searching for bits of pills or oil floating on the surface. Caretaker remembers doing the same.

Caretaker knows what they have to do. They stand up, striding to the other side of the table.

"Can I see your drink?"

Caretaker doesn't wait for Whumpee's permission before taking the glass from their hand, downing about half of the glass of the dark red liquid, and promptly plucking a bite sized piece of meat off their plate and eating it up. When Caretaker sat back down, they could see Whumpee's eyes had gone wide, their shoulders bunched in anticipation as if they expected Caretaker to explode. They both waited in silence for a minute, until Caretaker offered them a small smile.

"You should try some. It's really good. And you're so skinny."

When Caretaker failed to explode or collapse on the floor and Whumpee was sure it was safe, they exhaled, their shoulders relaxing, and they tentatively took piece of meat from the plate and began to chew. Their eyes immediately lit up in delight and they had another, and another, and another, washing each bite down with the drink until the whole meal was gone.

[spencers-secret-whump-account]

use the cat distribution system in your recovery whump story. Do it.

[martyr-inthedark]

Washing wounds hurts. Washing scrapes and scratches hurts. Rubbing over torn apart skin with a soapy sponge hurts. Cleaning out a pus-oozing infection hurts. A cold shower while having muscle cramps hurts. It all burns and throbs, pain radiating from each and every little opening. Open blisters on the feet light on fire as soapy water runs down off the legs—this almost impossible to stand comfortably and getting in or out of the tub creates a fall risk.

Burns sting like a nest of bees as water pummels the withering flesh. Injuries on the fingers make it hard to thoroughly wash the hair, even as blood, skin, and debris crumble away under the water. Turning your head just the wrong way can get water in your ears or nose or can encourage shampoo to run into the eyes. Plucking shirt fibers from sores with tweezers is a tedious and agitating exercise.

Perhaps even the unraveling towel catches on a loose stitch or staple. Perhaps Whumpee can't recognize themselves the first time they see their reflection in the mirror. Perhaps all Whumpee feels is the aftermath of all they've endured. Perhaps Whumpee has to do it all by themselves, including redressing their wounds.

Bathe your Whumpees, lovelies ✨

[chiharuuu22]

Shhhh! Keep your voice down and don't be loud. Whumpee is sleeping (or has just fallen asleep).

In Caretaker's arms after being rescued.

In a hospital bed in a recovery ward (or perhaps an ICU) after receiving care and treatment or perhaps emergency surgery.

On a bed in a room in a recovery house. Bonus points for the house are that the house belongs to the Caretaker and the bed BELONGS TO CARETAKER (AND CARETAKER'S BEDROOM)!!!!

In the passenger seat. Sleep on your back in the back seat or sleep in a half-sitting position after the seat is lowered slightly on the driver's side seat. Bonus points Caretaker puts on the jacket or coat to cover Whumpee.

On the sofa in front of the fireplace.

In a wheelchair while taking a leisurely walk.

On the couch on the terrace.

On the Caretaker's lap. Bonus points with the accompaniment of Caretaker's soft voice lulling Whumpee to sleep and caressing Whumpee's hair.

Sleep leaning on the Caretaker's shoulder when sitting side by side. Bonus points when they are in a discussion with the team members and Whumpee suddenly falls asleep exhausted.

Anything you want to add?

[sufrimientilia]

healing but with downsides

Caretaker with healing powers but every second of it is excruciating for Whumpee. Burning, convulsing, screaming, the repair of flesh coming with fire or electricity or the burst pop scatter of darkness from every synapse rupturing with over-stimulation

A resurrection spell that brings Whumpee back from death but it’s like dying in reverse, shaking and gasping and horrible, so wretched and miserable all over again

Bloodletting to save Whumpee from poison or infection. Toeing the line between bloodloss and dying from whatever toxin needs to be drained

Trying spell after spell to reverse a curse or hex. Whumpee so beaten and abused by magic their body just shuts down or violently rejects it all

Whumpee with the power/affinity/etc to heal fast but practically goes comatose in the meantime. Caretaker fretting as Whumpee sleeps and can’t be roused for hours or days at a time until their wounds seem to heal on their own

Whumpee with the power/affinity/etc to heal fast but it’s like they’re dying. Maybe Whumpee fights off wounds the same way they would the flu, their body getting so feverish and sickly every time they get hurt. Maybe the energy of healing drains Whumpee entirely, leaving them all sweaty and limp and lifeless

Whumpees with the power to heal immediately on the surface but feel the pain indefinitely

Whumpee who can heal so fast they're used for organ harvesting, cut open and ripped apart again and again and again

Herbal concoctions used to make powerful healing potions that taste putrid, forced down Whumpee’s throat as they choke and struggle, too out of it to really fight back

Concoctions that save Whumpee from fatal stab wounds but feel so bad. Poultices and salves that burn or ache, tinctures that make them so restless and disoriented they dream about such horrible things while Caretaker wipes sweat off their brow

Caretaker having to soothe and look after Whumpee as they give them dose after dose of something that makes them feel terrible. Maybe it’s the only thing keeping them alive, but Caretaker feels guilty all the while

Drugs that promote healing but have a whole slew of side effects. Anxiety, heart palpitations, overstimulation, allergic reactions, horrible withdrawals after Whumpee heals

Whumpee’s wounds getting better in every physical way but they just feel so much worse

[slippedtheknot]

"I Didn't Mean to,"

Whumpee sobbed as their shaking fingers grabbed pieces of porcelain. Blood dripped onto the floor from the sharp edges.

Heavy boots were coming down the hall and Whumpee tried moving faster; no doubt that Whumper would be pissed that Whumpee broke his plate. Whumpee swallowed when the boots stopped in front of them.

"Uh oh, what happened, Whumpee?" Whumper's voice was an eerie type of calm.

Whumpee tried to still their breathing so that they would be slightly coherent: "I...I broke a plate. I promise that I didn't mean to though! It...it just slipped from my hands when I was putting dishes away and I tried to clean it up. Not to hide the fact that I dropped it just-"

"Hey hey, it's all okay." Whumper's hand rubbed the back of Whumpee's neck and they froze; waiting for Whumper to slam their head into the floor. "Can you look up for me, Whumpee?"

Whumpee tilted their head up and was met with minty green eyes. That's odd...as far as Whumpee knew Whumper had cold and distant blue eyes that would stare into their soul. As far as Whumpee knew, Caretaker had the minty green eyes.

Whumpee blinked again and looked into his eyes. The eyes definitely belonged to Caretakeer, but then, why were they in Whumper's kitchen?

"You aren't there anymore, Whumpee." Caretaker's hand moved to Whumpee's shoulder as he pulled them into a much-needed hug.

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee wasn't the affectionate type. Too embarrassed to show anything aside from a firm handshake and a head nod.

But when they were in the hospital barely alive, drugged and exhausted, they were clinging to caretakers arm with tears welling their eyes.

Caretaker held them and promised everything was going to be fine. It was clear whumpee wasn't in their right mind; It was strange having the once-stoic whumpee sobbing and curled in their arms.

It was only a small glimpse into what whumpee must have endured. 

[whump-galaxy]

A silent Whumpee that hasn’t talked in years, either through force or fear, speaks their first words. It’s quiet, hoarse, and their caretaker barely catches it.

“Thank you.”

[whomeidontknowthem]

Months after Whumpee was rescued, they found themself in bed early in the morning, bundled in warm blankets, listening to birds singing behind the window and waiting for Caretaker to wake up. They stirred soon enough, tossing around and rubbing their face before finally opening their eyes and meeting Whumpee's gaze. Whumpee seemed relaxed -- Caretaker also relaxed back to warm sleepiness. There was no emergency in how Whumpee looked. There was something -- odd, still.

Caretaker smiled gently and whispered, "hey."

"Hey," Whumpee replied just as quietly, their lips tagging into a half-smile that made Caretaker's heart melt.

But they wanted to make sure. "How are you doing?"

"I'm--" Whumpee started and then paused, eyes growing wide. They sucked in a breath and hid their face, and in half a second Caretaker was hovering above them, not knowing what went wrong. "I'm good," Whumpee managed. And sobbed.

They were good. They thought about it -- about the warmth around them and the one settled in their chest, the softness of their bed and the blessing of being allowed to lie there, enjoying the moment when nothing hurt. About Caretaker and their sleepy smile that made Whumpee feel so warm and safe and...

Happy.

Caretaker's hand hovered over their shoulder asking for permission, always, always, giving them a chance to say no. Whumpee scooped them in a hug, squeezed tightly, overwhelmed with love and relief.

Caretaker made a questioning, still alarmed sound. "It's fine," Whumpee hurried to assure them. "It's just, I'm so-- I'm so happy."

It took a second for the significance of it to sink it, and then Caretaker hugged back with the same needy tightness. Whumpee laughed and hid their wet face in the crook of Caretaker's neck.

They hadn't been sure if they could still feel anything but fear and pain. The discovery was overwhelming.

They could be happy.

And they were.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Content: Recovery, PTSD/trauma.

"What on earth are you doing on the kitchen bench?" Caretaker asked curiously as they stuck their head into the kitchen to see what was making noise. There, Whumpee sat on the island with their legs crossed, grinning from ear to ear despite their clear nervousness.

"You told me I was allowed to break Whumper's rules. They never let me sit on counters, so that's what I'm doing."

Caretaker's confused frown curved up into a smile, pride no doubt evident. They took a few steps into the room and leaned against the nearest wall behind them. "Yeah? How's it feel up there?"

"Great!" they chirped. "I always used to sit like this, before. It's only a small aspect of the freedom I'm trying to reclaim, but one I'm excited to have back nonetheless."

[whump-in-the-closet]

When caretaker puts their hand on whumpee’s back for support or comfort and whumpee flinches away, stiffening like caretaker’s touch is a blow

[whumpdreaming]

Parental caretakers is just such an amazing trope. I get why some people don't like it and I also think that romantic and platonic caretaking can be great, but consider familial caretaking..

Are they Whumpee's own parents? Do they intimately know what they were like before the whumpening, and it breaks their heart to see them like this?

Or do they not know? Were they absent, and are using this opportunity to rebuild their relationship? Are they somebody else's parents?

Found family works too!!! Some gruff loner who finds themselves attached to Whumpee by whatever means, and now they're hurt and everything is all kinds of wrong, but Caretaker steps in and is like "what the heck, I'll do it, why not" (especially if the entire time they're just like "I'm doing it to repay a debt and don't actually care, trust me" when they absolutely do care) (especially ESPECIALLY if normally they're not very close or gentle or caring with anyone, but with Whumpee it's all whispers and warm touches and giving them the type of comfort they'd never allow themselves)

I honestly think I just made myself like parental caretaking more just by making this post

Just. Consider it.

[hold-on-a-little-longer-whump]

Don't mind me, just thinking about a character recovering from an illness or injury. The danger has passed, but they're still weak and exhaustion follows them like a heavy cloud. Comfort food is brought regularly. Soft clothes. Blankets. Fuzzy socks.

Particularly, the image of them sleeping on a squashy looking couch. Maybe they kicked off the blankets. Golden sunlight bathes them in warmth, and it's heavenly. Their hair is fluffed and messy.

And their companion stops themselves in the threshold of the door, not wanting to disturb this rare moment of bliss. They're carrying a tray of warm food, and the steam catches in the sun's rays just right.

They smile. Lunch can wait.

[martyr-inthedark]

There's just something so cathartic about a Whumpee who collapses into someone's arms, clinging to them as if this is their last chance at comfort.

I love a Whumpee who are just so worn down that all they can do is lay in someone's lap, sobbing at the warmth, even if it is just Whumper's lap.

A Whumpee whose chin fits perfectly in the crook of Caretaker's neck as they struggle to stay upright on shaking legs is exactly where it's at.

Perhaps Whumpee needs a weighted blanket or one of those heatable stuffed animals to sleep without nightmares.

[whumpy-galaxy]

Listen I am a SUCKER for conditioned whumpees. Specifically the unconditioning that comes after rescue.

Whumpee being afraid of Caretaker.

Whumpee having to wear a collar and a muzzle because that’s how Whumper kept them.

Whumpee panicking when they mess up or drop something, waiting for Caretaker to get upset and beat them.

Whumpee who won’t eat unless Caretaker orders them to.

Whumpee who doesn’t know what to do if they’re not being dragged around on a chain.

Whumpee who’s afraid of windows and the outdoors because Whumper convinced them everyone and everything outside wanted to hurt them, and they were safer with Whumper.

And everything that comes with that.

Caretaker not knowing what to do and feeling worthless. (Bonus points if they even consider mercy killing Whumpee because maybe they’ll always be afraid of everything and there’s nothing they can do).

Caretaker thinking maybe they DID do something to hurt Whumpee.

Caretaker being upset every time they look at Whumpee because they still insist on wearing the collar and muzzle Whumper bought for them, and Caretaker never wants to see them like that.

But also the good things that come with it!

Caretaker getting a new collar and muzzle made, with padding and lots of extra space for Whumpee to wear while they recover.

Whumpee finally being able to do something without asking Caretaker first, and Caretaker being so proud of them.

Caretaker’s praise and excitement at this makes Whumpee feel proud, too.

I just. I love it so much.