#Whump science

[teine-mallaichte]

I’ve been brainstorming (and when I say brainstorming I really mean "daydreaming about while at work") a concept I’m now dubbing “Neurobehavioral Conditioning” or “Neuro-Operant Training” — basically an advanced way to "train" a whumpee by combining behavior conditioning, operant conditioning, and behavioral modification. Think of it as a futuristic shock collar, but with a twist.

The general concept is that of an implant. This implant would be remote, controlled by the trainer, owner, whumper, etc, and at eh press of a button would "reward" the whumpee for good behaviour, following orders, being submissive, or whatever else.

I have three ideas for this implant:

Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS)

Mechanism: DBS involves implanting electrodes in specific brain areas, like the nucleus accumbens, to stimulate pleasure and reward centers.

Control: A remote control would adjust stimulation levels to reward good behavior.

Pros: Highly targeted, adjustable stimulation.

Cons: Requires surgery with risks like infection and brain damage.

Real World Inspiration: DBS is used to treat conditions like Parkinson’s and severe depression, showing its ability to enhance specific brain functions.

2. Insulin Pump-like Device Administering Euphoric Drugs

Mechanism: This device would release small doses of a euphoric drug into the bloodstream.

Control: The trainer can control dosage and timing to reinforce positive behavior.

Pros: Easier to implement than brain surgery, easily adjustable.

Cons: Risks of addiction, tolerance, and side effects.

Real World Inspiration: Think of insulin pumps but for mood-enhancing substances. While not perfect, the concept of continuous, controlled substance delivery is pretty similar.

3. Insulin Pump-like Device Administering Neurotransmitters

Mechanism: Releases neurotransmitters directly into the brain, affecting mood and behavior.

Control: Like the drug pump, it’s remotely controlled for precise neurotransmitter release.

Pros: Direct and potentially faster-acting than drugs.

Cons: Requires precise control to avoid imbalances and side effects.

Real World Inspiration: Current research on neurotransmitter modulation in psychiatric treatments.

Now… Imagine This:

The whumpee is unaware of the implant. Every time they follow an order or please the whumper, the button is pressed and they experience a wave of pleasure. The sense of joy and satisfaction becomes so intertwined with their compliance that eventually the button may not even need to be pressed. In Whumpees mind the wave of pleasure comes directly from obedience.

** Whumper glanced up, catching Whumpees eye. “You’ve done very well today. I’m proud of you.” Whumpees chest swelled with warmth at the praise. They didn’t fully understand the source of their happiness, but in that moment, it felt perfectly aligned with their purpose. The sense of joy and satisfaction was so deeply intertwined with their compliance that they couldn’t imagine anything else.**

**Whumper called out gently "Could you please tidy up the coffee table, dear? It looks a bit cluttered." Whumpee "Of course!" They move swiftly to the coffee table, clearing away magazines and placing them neatly in a stack. As they work, they hum softly, a look of contentment on their face. The moment they finish, a wave of pleasurable warmth washes over them, originating from deep within their mind. They feel a sense of happiness and fulfillment, a smile spreading across their face as if they had just accomplished something truly meaningful.**

I feel the subtlety of influencing the whumpee’s emotions makes this concept all the more intriguing (and creepy). Sure, the whumper could crank up the remote to enforce submission, but the quiet conditioning might be even more satisfying.

Honestly, maybe it's a good job that I never actually qualified as a doctor what this is the sort of thoughts I have while stood in a gym yelling at someone on a treadmill 😂.

Mandatory science dump Under the cut

Key Neurotransmitters and Their Functions:

Dopamine:

Function: Often referred to as the “feel-good” neurotransmitter, dopamine plays a crucial role in reward, motivation, and pleasure. It also influences movement and emotional responses.

Theoretical Effect of Artificial Addition: Increasing dopamine levels can enhance feelings of pleasure and reward, potentially improving mood and motivation.

Too much = addiction and psychosis.

Serotonin:

Function: Serotonin is involved in regulating mood, appetite, sleep, and memory. It has a calming effect and helps maintain a balanced mood.

Theoretical Effect of Artificial Addition: Boosting serotonin levels can improve mood and reduce anxiety and depression.

Too much = serotonin syndrome.

Norepinephrine:

Function: This neurotransmitter is involved in the body’s “fight or flight” response. It increases alertness, arousal, and attention.

Theoretical Effect of Artificial Addition: Enhancing norepinephrine can improve focus and energy levels.

Too much = anxiety and high blood pressure.

GABA (Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid):

Function: GABA is the primary inhibitory neurotransmitter in the brain. It helps reduce neuronal excitability and promotes relaxation and calmness.

Theoretical Effect of Artificial Addition: Increasing GABA levels can have a calming effect, reducing anxiety and promoting sleep.

Too much = excessive sedation.

Acetylcholine:

Function: This neurotransmitter is involved in muscle activation, memory, and learning.

Theoretical Effect of Artificial Addition: Enhancing acetylcholine can improve memory and cognitive function.

Too much = Muscle cramps.

Key Brain Areas for DBS for this purpose:

Nucleus Accumbens (NAc):

Function: The NAc is a central part of the brain’s reward circuit. It plays a crucial role in processing pleasure, reward, and reinforcement learning.

Theoretical Effect of DBS: Stimulating the NAc can enhance feelings of pleasure and reward, potentially improving mood and motivation. This area is often targeted in treatments for depression and addiction.

Ventral Tegmental Area (VTA):

Function: The VTA is involved in the release of dopamine, a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and reward.

Theoretical Effect of DBS: Stimulating the VTA can increase dopamine release, enhancing reward-related behaviors and potentially improving mood.

Medial Forebrain Bundle (MFB):

Function: The MFB is a pathway that connects the VTA to the NAc and other brain regions involved in reward processing.

Theoretical Effect of DBS: Stimulating the MFB can modulate the entire reward circuit, potentially providing a more comprehensive enhancement of pleasure and motivation.

Central Amygdala (CeA):

Function: Traditionally associated with fear, recent studies have shown that the CeA also has neurons involved in reward processing.

Theoretical Effect of DBS: Stimulating the reward-related neurons in the CeA can promote positive behaviors and enhance feelings of reward

A few real world related technologies and research that explore similar concepts:

Automated Insulin Delivery (AID) Systems:

These systems combine insulin pumps with continuous glucose monitors (CGMs) to automatically adjust insulin delivery based on real-time glucose levels1. The technology and principles behind these systems could be adapted for neurotransmitter delivery.

Neurotransmitter Modulation in Psychiatric Treatments:

Treatments for conditions like depression and anxiety often involve modulating neurotransmitter levels using medications such as SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors) to increase serotonin levels2. While not delivered via a pump, the concept of adjusting neurotransmitter levels to influence behavior is similar.

Research on Neurostimulation and Neurotransmitter Release:

Studies have explored the use of electrical stimulation to influence neurotransmitter release in the brain. For example, deep brain stimulation (DBS) can affect dopamine levels, which is relevant for treating Parkinson’s disease.

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee’s tied down in a hospital gown gagged and blindfolded. 

The gag is so they don’t bite.

The blindfold is so no one has to look into their eyes when they run unethical experiments.

Besides, they’re here for the science, not torture. They had the stomach for blood but not for the crying.

[becomingvecna]

Petri Dishes by Klari Reis

[echoingalaxies]

One of my favorite comfort tropes is Caretaker seeing Whumpee smile or hearing them laugh for the first time after whatever happened to them - or for the first time ever.

And they'll silently promise themselves to do everything in their power to make that sight/sound a frequent occurrence in their life.

[the-broken-pen]

Hey can you do one about a villain with teleporting powers

The hero woke up gasping, scrambling upright in bed as the back of their neck tingled in warning. Their eyes darted around the room, blurry, before settling on the far wall.

The villain watched them, idle and unimpressed.

The hero’s lungs, traitorously, forgot how to breathe. They wheezed slightly, one hand clenching onto the blanket, the other sliding underneath the pillow for their knife, where–

The villain hummed, and the hero’s attention snapped back to them at the same time they managed to draw in a painful, terror-addled breath. The villain’s gaze was unnerving as they flipped a knife over their knuckles.

The hero’s knife.

“You,” the hero managed, but they couldn’t think of anything to say, and they were so tired and their pulse was jackrabbiting in their ears.

The villain seemed to know this.

“I warned you,” they said. They didn’t even sound mean about it. Just a gentle reminder–hey, don’t forget to check the mail, hey, it’s your mom’s birthday, hey, can you feed the dog?

‘If you keep interfering, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth and make you stop. There is nowhere I will not find you. Do you hear me? You cannot run from me, so don’t make me chase you.’

The hero swallowed.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it.”

The villain nodded like they had expected this. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, though, yeah?”

The hero knew the right answer. They knew that the proper response would be to slide off the bed onto their knees, to swear in every language they knew that they wouldn’t do it again. That the villain would be the only one allowed to splash blood onto the streets of their city, and the hero would choke on the pain of doing nothing and stay silent in it.

“You knew I wasn’t going to listen to you,” the hero said, and it was accusatory. The villain shifted slightly. “You had to have known I wouldn’t stop just because you threatened me.”

The villain shrugged one shoulder. 

“Of course I did. If you were the type of person who would have stopped, I would have killed you instead of giving you a warning.”

The hero’s grip tightened on the blanket. “That doesn’t make sense. If I was going to stop then why kill me–”

“I don’t believe in weakness,” the villain interrupted. Their gaze was searching and heavy on the hero’s face, knife still spinning over their knuckles. “Which is why you’re alive, because you have never been weak.”

The hero’s jaw tensed.

“You wanted this.”

The hint of a smile pulled at the villain’s mouth.

“Of course I did. You think I didn’t know you would try and run? You think I didn’t know exactly how you would react the moment I threatened anyone in that cursed city?”

“So you weren’t actually going to kill anyone?”

“Oh, no,” the villain corrected. “Of course I was going to. They don’t matter to me.”

The hero’s stomach turned. 

“Those are people–”

“They’re a drop in an ocean of humanity. You know better than to think I would care about something so trivial,” the villain said.

“They’re not trivial–”

The villain sighed, harsh in the darkness of the room.

“I bore of this. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

The hero jolted back.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The villain sighed again, as if they were dealing with an unruly child and getting a headache for their efforts. It sent the hero bristling like an angry cat.

“There’s nowhere you can go that I can’t find you. You know that, right? There is no end of the line for this. You can drive until you run out of gasoline, until your feet bleed, and you drain your accounts of money. And I will follow, and I will leave every person who helped you nothing more than a stain on the ground, until you decide the trail of bodies isn’t worth avoiding me. Is that really something you want?”

The hero set their jaw, rising to their feet. 

“You won’t find me,” they swore. And the villain–

The villain laughed.

“I know your face. Of course I can find you.”

The hero was missing something, and the lack of knowledge felt like a sword over their head. 

“I don’t–”

“There’s no way you would have known,” the villain said gently, like they knew how much it bothered the hero that they were missing something that was apparently vital. 

They probably did know.

The hero glared.

The villain looked on the verge of another laugh.

“Once I’ve seen a face, I can find a person anywhere in the world. No matter how far. That’s all I need. You could go to the other side of the planet, and I could teleport to you without a second thought.”

The hero gaped.

“Any face?”

The villain paused. “Yes.”

The hero’s throat went abruptly dry.

Any face–

“You could do so much good,” the hero said, and their voice broke slightly. “Do you know how many people you could save? Natural disasters and missing persons cases and–”

“You misunderstand me.”

“You could–”

“I don’t want to do good.”

The hero stopped.

“You don’t want to do good,” they said flatly.

“I am not a good person,” the villain said. “I don’t want to do good. I want power, and I want to do as I please, and I want you.”

The hero was going to be sick on the wooden flooring. They were barefoot, and weaponless, and that fear still ran up their spine.

“I am a person. You cannot have a person.”

“You are a glorious, powerful being,” the villain countered.

“That doesn’t make me less of a person.”

“No,” the villain agreed. “But it does make you something other than trivial. How could I do anything other than want to have that?”

The hero backed up a step.

“You can’t have me.”

The villain matched them, silent even as they stepped forward.

“You plan to run?”

They sounded amused.

The hero supposed that was better than anger.

“Stay over there,” the hero said shakily. The villain obliged, settling their hands into their pockets. Like this was a means to an end. They had flipped to the back of the book and read the ending, and were watching the hero catch up to the scenes they had already seen played out. The villain’s eyes burned into them.

And abruptly, skin going cold, the hero realized there truly wasn’t a way out of this for them.

The villain would never let them be. They could run, like the villain said, and the villain could kill every person who so much as looked their way. They could hide, and stumble through cities and down alleys and the villain would always be around the corner. 

They had little doubt that every other person in this shitty motel was already dead. 

The villain grinned like they could read every thought as it crossed the hero’s face.

“Where will you go,” the villain said. They stepped forward until they were close enough to touch. 

It wasn’t really the sort of question that wanted an answer.

“Everyone else in this building is dead, aren’t they?”

The villain cocked their head, as if to say, Come now, you know the answer to that.

The hero didn’t think they would ever be able to draw a full breath again.

“Where,” the villain said, soft like a secret. “Will you go, little hero?”

It felt like dying. It felt like reaching out to help someone a second too late. A second too slow to catch the building as it fell. The wrong side of a fire before it blew up.

“With you,” they whispered, and the villain smiled wider.

“What was that?”

“You heard me,” the hero snapped, and thrust their hand out. The villain took it without hesitation.

They tugged the hero into them, leaning to slot their mouth next to the hero’s ear. The hair on the back of the hero’s neck stood up.

“You could do so much bad,” the villain whispered, and the hero ground their teeth hard enough to hurt.

Anger flared bright enough to drain every ounce of fear from their body. Because this was the worst case scenario, wasn’t it? What could be lost.

“Every step you make, every blow you deal and fire you start, I’ll be there. And I'll stop you. Again, and again, and again. You want me?” The hero bared their teeth. “Then have me.”

The villain tugged them closer, and laughed.

“I look forward to it,” the villain replied, and then darkness swallowed the both of them whole.

A week later, a team of agents entered the motel to find it coated in blood and the smell of death.

A month later, everyone knew there was a fight of immovable power and unstoppable force shattering its way across the world. 

A year later, the victor panted through a bloody grin, bruised and crackling with vicious unleashed power, and laughed. Because truly, the ending had been on the horizon since the moment the two of them had first met.

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumper kept and studied the whumpee like they were some kind of animal- yet they never once tried to make the whumpee comfortable, they only got just enough to survive. The whumpee would try to reason with the whumper, convince them to let them go, but the whumper was only ever interested in learning more. This eventually moved to “tests”, rigorous and painful procedures that the whumper would perform in their pursuit of knowledge. Anything from high stress situations to outright torture- anything to know just a little more.

[will-o-the-wips]

How many times do you have to kill an immortal before they break?

[mottinthepot18]

Art done for @whumpy-wyrms of Anton and Basil!

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 24

Radiation Poisoning - Collapsed Building - Equipment Failure - I never knew daylight could be so violent (Florence, The Machine No Light, No Light)

Twenty-four hours.

It had been twenty-four hours since the equipment had a minor blow up in the lab.

Twenty-four hours since Whumpee was given a lab shower to get all of the goop off. They were always harsh when these showers were done. Whumpee knew the goop needed to come off, but how they longed for a gentle hand. Someone to make it feel okay... even while in pain.

They shuddered.

They were now restrained in a wheelchair in the center of their room. Naked as naked can be.

"Do you feel any different at all Whumpee?", a researcher went over the radio. They had to monitor the lab rat. They weren't sure what the goop was, and the rat had been covered in it.

"I'm cold and tired. Please I just want sleep", Whumpee whined, "can I have my clothes back at least?"

"No, we are monitoring the burn on your stomach, and can't do anything until we know what the goop was", the scientist sighed, "so nothing has changed?"

"I'm more tired. Can I at least go to bed yet? How long has it been since I've slept?", Whumpee whined some more.

"You may not sleep as we are monitoring you. You've been awake for twenty-four hours now", the scientist replied.

Whumpee swung their head back and groaned, "why am I being punished for this?"

"It's not a punishment. Whumper is actually concerned about you. Hence the monitoring", the scientist sounded annoyed now, "be patient."

"Can I at least have some heat? I'm shivering. I'm still fairly damp because someone didn't dry me off properly. Plus, I'm naked", Whumpee pleaded.

"I'll ask Whumper", the scientist sighed.

- "Whumper, patient 01134, Whumpee is asking if we may turn up the heat in the monitor room. Body temp is normal. Room temp is 60°F. They said they are freezing", the monitoring scientists texted Whumper.

- "Yes, that's fine. No wonder they're cold. We are finishing up with the research. The substance doesn't seem to be dangerou. We need another hour or so. I'll come up when all is done. Does everything seem to be okay on their end?"

- The scientist received the text, "yes they say there are no changes. They are tired from being awake for so long. Sore. Cold. Nothing major."

- "Perfect."

"Whumper has given permission to raise the temperature for you", they spoke into the radio again, "now, be a good little patient and sit their quietly."

Whumpee sighed happily when heat started in their room.

"That's nice", Whumpee whispered in relief.

Whumper stepped into Whumpee's room after a little while and knelt beside the chair.

"Whumpee", they whispered.

Whumpee had fallen asleep. Those monitoring them had run out of ways to keep them awake.

Whumpee let out a disturbed snore before opening their eyes.

"Doc", Whumpee looked at Whumper.

"Yes, it's me. We just got back results. The goop was nontoxic. I'm pleased to say you are in the clear", Whumper smirked.

"That's good", Whumpee yawned tiredly, "can I sleep in my bed now?"

"I actually have a surprise for you. I'm going to cover you in a blanket, and take you somewhere", Whumper stood up.

"Where?", Whumpee questioned.

"It's a surprise", Whumper chuckled, "you've been such a good lab rat lately, so you've earned it. Plus, I now have to fix the lab due to the explosion." They unlocked the restraints, "are you ready?"

Whumpee was stopped in front of an elevator.

Whumper waited for the doors to open then backed Whumpee inside.

"Are we... are we going to Caretaker's floor?", Whumpee questioned when they saw Whumper hit the button.

"I don't know. Are we?", Whumper chuckled, "yes, Caretaker said they would take care of you while the lab was being fixed."

Whumpee excitedly watched the floors change.

"How long will I be with Caretaker?", Whumpee peaked back at Whumper.

"What, are you in a hurry to get back to my tests?", Whumper laughed as they pushed the wheelchair off of the elevator.

Whumpee thought for a moment on what they should say.

"No", Whumpee finally whispered, "not really."

"Aww, you're breaking my heart my dear", Whumper joked, "I guess I understand though. I'd rather stay with Caretaker, too. He spoils his patients."

"I wouldn't call it spoiling", someone stepped out of a room, "we just treat patients a little differently in the infirmary."

"Other wise known as spoiling" Whumper smirked, "not knocking it, I definitely appreciate you taking care of the accidental injuries my experiments cause. Here is your newest one."

"Yes, I've read a little bit already", Caretaker smiled at Whumpee, "let's see", they knelt down.

Whumpee couldn't help their nervousness and watched Caretaker closely.

Caretaker sensed their unease.

"It's alright, I'm only going to check your burn", Caretaker promised as they carefully pealed the blanket away, "we will get you in a nice warm bath. Then a snack. Then you can rest for a while."

Whumpee perked up at the plan.

"Alright. I'll leave you in Caretaker's capable hands. Have fun being spoiled. They don't have any limitations on them either. They earned a full rest, so there are no restrictions."

"Perfect", Caretaker smiled at Whumpee, "are you ready?"

Whumpee excitedly nodded.

Whumpee stood beside a giant sink while Caretaker filled it up with water.

"Caretaker what is that?", Whumpee watched them pour something else into the water.

"That will help your burn and any other wounds you have. It's antibacterial and soothing", Caretaker felt the water temperature, "perfect "

Whumpee climbed into the sink and sat down.

"This feels so much better than the lab showers", Whumpee sighed contentedly.

"Anything feels better that", Caretaker smiled, "alright lean your head back please."

Caretaker worked shampoo into Whumpee's scalp until it was fully covered. The lather sat an inch above Whumpee's head.

"I might cut a few inches of hair off. Would you be okay if I did that?", Caretaker reached for a cup to help rinse Whumpee's head.

"I don't know what Doc wants", Whumpee whispered.

"It's not up to Whumper. If you want some hair cut off, we will do it", Caretaker tipped Whumpee's head back and started to rinse away the shampoo. They held one hand on Whumpee's forehead to guard their eyes from getting soap in them.

"I feel really good", Whumpee smiled as they ate a snack.

Caretaker trimmed some of Whumpee's hair.

"I'm glad to hear that", Caretaker grinned, "after this I'll get you into bed. It's pretty late, so you will be able to sleep in tomorrow."

Whumpee nodded eagerly.

The next morning.

"Whumpee it's time for you to get up", Caretaker gently shook them.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open and smiled.

"It wasn't a dream?" Whumpee looked around and saw the room, then Caretaker.

"Not at all, you're up in my infirmary to heal" Caretaker smiled, "are you ready for breakfast?"

"Yes sir", Whumpee nodded, "what do you want me to wear?"

"Your pajamas you have on are fine. You get to be cozy up here", Caretaker smiled as they helped Whumpee up, "pajamas are more than welcomed."

Whumpee sat happily until they saw Whumper walk in.

"Hey, are you ready to come back yet?", Whumper looked at them seriously.

"But, but, but" Whumpee almost felt their lip quiver.

"Hey, I'm just kidding. The lab is definitely not ready and you still have time to heal", Whumper waved their hands in surrender when they thought Whumpee was going to cry.

"That's a mean prank", Caretaker came in with a plate of cut fruit, "no wonder your patients are always on edge."

"I just came up to see how they were doing. They look happy, so that's good", Whumper grinned, "Caretaker can I talk to you privately?"

Caretaker nodded as they set the plate in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee wondered what was said, but didn't ask.

Caretaker still seemed to be in good spirits so that was good.

Whumpee was taken back to their room after breakfast.

"All of my things are here?", Whumpee looked around.

"Yes" Caretaker nodded, "you will be staying up here for a little longer", Caretaker sighed.

"I-is something wrong?", Whumpee backed away.

"Uhm, some what, but don't worry about it right now. How about we get your decorations put up", Caretaker went for one of the boxes.

"Caretaker, I want to know", Whumpee frowned, "I'm happy to stay up here, but I know Doc isn't one to retire lab rats unless something is wrong."

"You are one if my smarter rats", a voice came from behind, "Caretaker I'll let them know."

"Doc?", Whumpee frowned.

"Sit down", Whumper pointed at the bed.

Caretaker sat down and held their arms open for Whumpee.

Whumper leaned against the wall.

They sighed, "that goop that got on you was deemed nondangerous... at least so we thought. It is highly radioactive. For fun, we held a meter tool by it. Unexpectedly, the meter read a large amount. You were unfortunately in the room when the explosion happened. It got all over you... and inside of you. I believe some entered you through your burn. Unfortunately, you have what is called radioactive poisoning. Your blood work came back highly positive, so there is a lot."

Whumpee gulped, "so how does that get fixed?"

Whumper looked down.

"You can fix it right? Doc? If anyone can it's you", Whumpee pleaded.

"There isn't anything anyone can do", Whumper looked at Whumpee compassionately, "it's unfortunately inside of you."

"What about everyone else?", Whumpee looked down, "and Caretaker?"

"It isn't contagious. So Caretaker and I are safe. The team had appropriate protection on, so they should be fine as well. We are waiting on bloodwork. If you had just gotten it on you I think you would have been fine too. I think though it got in through the burn and maybe other ports of entrance like your mouth."

"What does this mean for me?", Whumpee whispered.

"Well you are retired from being a lab rat. Caretaker is going to give you the best retirement he can. The end result...", Whumper's voice cut out with a small sob, "Uh, the end result will be death... a sooner death than you deserve I fear."

Whumpee looked down over themself, "I'm going to die?", Whumpee looked at Caretaker, "bu... but I don't want to... die. There is nothing that can be done?"

"No Whumpee, I'm sorry. I will help make sure you won't experience pain or discomfort. You will be very comfortable", Whumper frowned, "I'm sorry, I really did not want this to happen. To you especially."

"I'll make sure you are comfortable as well", Caretaker chimed in as they hugged Whumpee close.

Whumpee had wiped a few tears away already, and was shaking in Caretaker's arms.

"How long do I have?", Whumpee whispered.

"I, uh, don't really know. You might start displaying signs soon, or you could be alive for a few more years. Everyone is different", Whumper reached and held a comforting hand on Whumpee's shoulder, "I am really, really sorry that this happened. I really did not want to deliver these news, but I know how smart you are. Let me know if you need me for anything."

Whumpee nodded and burried their face into Caretaker's chest to cry.

"I'll text you if they need something", Caretaker rubbed circles into Whumpee's back.

Minutes turned into hours.

Whumper came back up to check on things after not hearing anything else from Caretaker.

Caretaker was just stepping out of Whumpee's room.

"They cried themself to sleep", Caretaker whispered.

Whumper nodded, "I'm heartbroken. I had planned to retire them. I told myself just one more experiment, then I will pack them up and move them up here for permanent retirement. That decision cost them their life... that's my fault."

"You didn't know. It would have happened regardless of who was in that room", Caretaker frowned, "though I don't always like what you are doing.."

"Someone else would have been expendable", Whumper looked back at the room, "my favorite rat wasn't."

"Maybe this will teach you not to play with people's lives so freely", Caretaker frowned.

Whumper nodded.

"Will you keep an eye on them for me. If you notice any pain let me know. I've got stuff to keep them out of pain."

Caretaker nodded, "I will, they are in good hands."

"Thankyou... Caretaker, I, uh, appreciate you taking care of them" Whumper started to turn.

"Doc?" Whumpee peaked out through a crack in the door.

"Yes Whumpee?", Whumper quickly wiped a tear away, "how can I help you."

"Will you visit me a lot until I die?", Whumpee whispered.

"Of course I will. I will be here daily to check on you", Whumper smiled, "I promise."

Whumpee nodded and gently closed the door.

Whumper turned back to Caretaker.

"I need to leave. I'm about to cry", Whumper hurried away.

"Yep, hate for the big tough scientist to be seen as sensitive", Caretaker called after them.

Caretaker sighed, "and I'll clean up your mess... like always."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

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@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

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[whatiswhump]

I love the use of a taser, especially when it isn’t necessary.

Whumpee was going to comply without it but before they can, out of nowhere and without provocation they are stunned into oblivion so that they are then manhandled into whatever it is- dragged back in after being caught escaping or onto the table for the next round of experiments.

If they would’ve waited, whumpee was going to go with them, they were going to comply-

[whumpy-wyrms]

he wants to experiment on u so bad rn

[whumpinthepot]

Mad(ly in love) Scientist

[befuddled-calico-whump]

could you please please give more reasons for a whumper to, well, whump? i feel like sometimes my writing is disconnected because they don’t have any realistic motives to do what they do

Sure!

For Security: the whumpee has been overthrown in some way by the whumper, who keeps them under lock and key to prevent them from accumulating power and reclaiming their position.

For Gloating: the whumpee and whumper were bitter rivals. When whumper finally bests whumpee, they keep them around to relive the moment.

For Utility: the whumpee possesses a rare skill, and the whumper kidnaps or imprisons them in order to have access to it. (Bonus points if the whumpee refuses to comply!)

For Punishment: similar to vengeance, the whumpee is deemed villainous or criminal by society, and the whumper(s) feel justified in hurting them. After all, they deserve it, don't they?

For Fun: the whumper is in power over whumpee in some way, and has taken to torturing or tormenting them whenever they get bored.

For Deterrence: the whumpee has broken a rule and must be made an example of.

and as @stabbysheep said,

For Science: the whumper is conducting experiments, either out of curiosity or necessity, and they need the whumpee for the trials. Could be completely legal (maybe whumpee is a criminal, maybe they volunteered not knowing what they were signing up for, maybe they're not human), or not (whumpee is kidnapped to be used as the perfect test subject).

even more reasons

[urlocalwhumper]

scientist caretaker finally gets a job at some obscure lab they've never heard of. maybe a bit worrying, but whatever, they're fresh out of school and need the job. their boss is also concerningly vague about what exactly they'll be doing, but once again, they need the job.

once they're all settled in, their boss takes them down to the testing chamber. caretaker is expecting to be experimenting on something like rats or bugs, but their boss flicks on the lights and oh my fucking god that is a whole ass living person

[whereserpentswalk]

Your girlfriend used to be a supersolider. I mean physically she still is, but she doesn't work as one anymore because of an injury taking away the use of one of her arms. She's been through a lot, she's been fighting for longer then unmodified humans tend to live, even with life extension technology, she's been fighting for longer then even the planet you're on has been colonized by humans. The empire she fought for is long gone, but she's still here.

She looks strangely inhuman. Her body looks almost like a statue, she's so perfectly lean and muscular, but in an almost inhuman way. Her eyes are strangely colored, and her skin has pieces of machinery sticking out of her. She's more human looking then the cyborgs you tend to see throughout the city, but there's something most people consider off about her. People always act uncomfortable around her, especially since her body language is kind of stilted, and her face doesn't show emotion, it makes her think of herself as less human than she is.

She's strangely skittish due to her past. Robots always scare her, even ones you consider small and cute. Occasionally she'll see someone with a visor covering their face and she'll want to avoid them due to some memory she has about that. She can't sleep when spaceships are passing overhead, and you'll have to hold her and comfort her until the sound ends.

Most people you meet just walking around the city think of her as being sort of creepy. A lot of your freinds talk behind her back about how she's killed people before. A lot of people think she doesn't feel emotions just because her body doesn't show them, a lot of people think it's impossible for her to love you.

You do your best to make her feel safe. You pet her skin, and kiss her a lot, and play with her hair. You feel the need to make her feel comfortable again. Whoever made her into what she is now took away her ability to feel sexual pleasure, but she seems to enjoy pleasuring you. She wants to cry when she lays her head agaisnt your breast, but her eyes can't do that anymore.

She seems to so often feel like a monster, feel like something designed to hurt people. She's so aware that her body itself is built as a weapon of war, that it makes her feel like violence itself is her nature. But you tell her that she doesn't have to be violent anymore if she doesn't want to. And you call her pretty, people have said a lot of things about her body, but you don't think anyone has called her pretty before.

[rabbit-flaying]

Humanity's Collector

Genres: Fantasy and Science Fiction

Content Warnings: Dehumanization, Kidnapping, Casual Violence, Claustrophobia, Mild Cosmic Horror

Note: I want to get back to positing my writing on Tumblr. Maybe someone will recognize this. Probably not.

"Gosh you're pretty," Glade cooed, its voice sounding a bit like Harlow's mother, a bit like a brook, and a bit like paper being crumpled up and cast aside.

Harlow looked around desperately. For he had to find escape from the strange realm he had woken in. All manner of miscellany took up space in the void around him. It looked like a storage closet, if every storage closet in the world were connected together, and the possessions of kings and paupers alike were granted permission to socialize.

He ignored Glade and stood from his wicker chair, quickly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the realm and number of objects held within it.

Above him the color white stretched out into infinitum. True white, not the dirty kind found in snow and house paint. It hurt his head, making his temples throb and blood vessels contract, so he looked away from it.

"Where am I?" Harlow demanded. "Who are you?"

"My name is Glade," it answered. "You're in my home."

Harlow made the mistake of eye contact. Glade's eyes shone with the light of galaxies, a dazzling rainbow of nebulae, planets, and suns. The entirety of the universe, and many more beyond it, seemed tucked away within the perfectly spherical marbles buried in the putty-like flesh of its glowing face.

He finally broke away from the hypnotic sight, his puny brain unable to handle the visions within. How much time had passed, every one of his neurons firing at once in an attempt to process the cosmos of Glade's eyes? Seconds? Minutes? Hours, even?

He needed answers, yet he did not know the right questions. Glade didn't seem human, instead a creature from a story book. And this monolithic hoard couldn't possibly be real.

"Your home?" he asked in a strangled sort of voice, staring pointedly at the patch of ebony wood ground he stood upon.

"I'm a collector," Glade explained, running their sharp nails, painted with glitter and adorned with scraps of emeralds, through Harlow's silky hair.

"What do you collect, exactly?"

Harlow watched a glittering blue beetle crawl across the ground, finding a hiding spot underneath a red and purple feathered ball gown displayed on a copper mannequin.

"All sorts of things," Glade said, flapping its hands wildly in a mimicry of human excitement. "Your world is fascinating. I remember when your kind learned how to create fire and tame animals. You have grown so much since then. I needed to have one of you for my own. Your creations are not enough any more."

Harlow carefully took in Glade's appearance, avoiding its hypnotic eyes. Despite its alien nature- as clear to Harlow as it would have been to his ancestors as they huddled around campfires concocting stories to explain their world- it chose to appear humanoid, though not precisely human.

Glade was the kind of thing that would hide in a child's closet, and speak to them in a parental fashion, loathing the knowledge that the child would never be believed no matter how loudly they spoke of its existence.

Its iridescent skin glimmered, changing colors with every movement, no matter how slight, as stunning light produced by the void poured over its body. Its proportions sat beyond the human view of normal, uncanny like an airbrushed model, but far more monstrous. Behind its smiling lips were two rows of porcelain and copper teeth, slicing perfectly through its pale gray gums.

Delicate jewelry of book pressed flowers and dragonfly wings adorned its warped elven ears. It was clad in a fur cape, the stitched together pelts of numerous small animals, fur colors clashing and asymmetrical. Its heels, as thin as sewing needles and seemingly impossible to walk on, granted half a foot of height to their seven-foot frame.

"Don't worry," Glade continued. "I'll take care of you. I've been collecting humanity's creations for millenia. You may use what you find around you to its fullest extent."

"I want to go home," Harlow said, finally realizing that this was not a dream that could be banished away by opening his eyes and pouring himself a cup of black coffee mixed with salt. "Please let me go. I'm sure there's someone who would love to be here. But I like my life on earth."

"But I wanted you."

Glade hugged Harlow tightly, mimicking how it had observed humans comforting one another. Its skin had none of Harlow's warmth, and he found this hug as uncomfortable as cuddling with a marble statue would have been, if he had ever been bold enough to break the omnipresent rule of not touching museum exhibits.

Harlow closed his eyes. "I have to be dreaming," he said, his lie cloaked in a defeated sort of tone. "This can't be real."

"Of course this isn't real," Glade said, holding its newest acquisition out at arm's length. "But it isn't a dream either. You are within my home, far outside of your universe."

"Please send me back. I don't know why I'm here, or how, but I can't do this."

"Yes you can," Glade said. "It's easy. I will take care of you, and you will be my plaything. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Harlow broke away from Glade, and took off walking. There had to be an exit. Everything had an exit, whether it be a school or a church or a corner shop. The exits were always there, saddened as they were that so many people were afraid to break the rules and only took advantage of their ability to leave at certain appointed hours.

The void still seemed to stretch on into infinity, swelling larger and larger the farther and farther Harlow walked. But everything had an end if you traveled far enough to find it. Even the deserts that passed past any human line of sight and the mountains that seemed too high to ever climb over.

But now Harlow was applying rules from his original plane of existence to the alien one he had been so rudely whisked away to. And that was very foolish indeed.

"No, that doesn't sound nice," he said angrily, as Glade easily matched his pace, wearing a concerned expression it had stolen from a grandparent not too long ago. "I'm leaving."

"You can't leave. Because I didn't steal you. The original Harlow Finch Echowood is still in his home, playing solitaire and chatting away to his cat. You belong here with me."

Harlow stopped in his tracks, sitting down on an ancient jeweled throne. It had held countless kings before him, but he respected them not, only using their seat to keep from collapsing in shock.

Glade smiled. "We are going to have so much fun, and no one will ever know you to be here. Come now, I have food prepared for you."

"I can't eat your food," Harlow argued, remembering what he had learned from a book that lived in his elementary school library. It had worn a shiny green cover, and the name Susan Macintosh was written inside the front cover before his own. "I'd never be able to leave if I did that."

"I'm afraid you've mistaken me for some of my cousins," Glade said. "You will eat, or you will starve. And you're never leaving because you belong to me. It doesn't matter what you choose to do."

Harlow stood up, his dizziness replaced with a red-hot temper. "I hate you! Let me go! You can't keep me here!"

Glade looked deeply wounded, but Harlow knew within the depths of his very soul, that it was only mimicry of human emotion.

"I couldn't send you back, even if I wanted to. Then there would be two Harlow Finch Echowoods trying to live your singular and unique life."

"I don't believe you. I'm still me. I still remember my life."

"You are an exact duplication of the original Harlow Finch Echowood. You have the same soul and the same mind and the same DNA. Of course you still remember."

With every passing moment, Harlow's belief in Glade's words only grew. Any attempt to fight against them was snuffed out by diluted logic and the omnipresent knowledge that he was still alive. He breathed. Blood rushed through his veins. More importantly, his mind continued to produce thoughts and feelings to process the outside world.

"Just combine us again or something," Harlow begged. "I want to go home. I never asked to be brought here."

"I cannot combine nor reconstruct nor mend. I can only make copies of beautiful things, and things not quite so beautiful."

Glade spread its arms, gesturing to its hoard of human objects collected in centuries long past. The treasures of every empire ever risen and fallen was present, both the spectacular and the mundane side by side in a discordant visual melody.

"Why me?" Harlow asked. "I didn't do anything."

"You speak as though this is a punishment. I have simply added you to my collection." It flicked the tears from his face, scratching him with its nail. "Now come, I have made you good food."

Glade gripped Harlow's arm and dragged him far away, weaving throughout its collection at a brisk and even pace, avoiding falling into the gaps between pieces of floor, which only infinitum laid below.

Soon enough, they came upon a small 1950s era kitchen. Two marble counters, a dirty stove, and a teacup filled sink formed a corner tucked away between a row of unplugged televisions and a huge crooked stalagmite growing from the polished tile floor.

Glade opened the oven and pulled out a pan of fresh bread. Its hands were bare, but unburnt by the hot metal dish. It grabbed a knife from one of the many drawers and cut through the bread without displacing a single crumb, before laying the slice out on a neon green plate.

"Eat while it's still hot," Glade said with a bright smile. It was a well used expression by those of Harlow's time who prepared meals for other humans, and it planned to repeat it often.

In its time spent with Harlow, its teeth had dulled significantly, and its gums had taken on a pale shade of pink. Why it had not mimicked a perfect human before meeting Harlow was beyond him, and it seemed perfectly capable of warping its appearance to become more like him.

He reluctantly tried the seed filled bread, finding it to be heavenly and soft. Faerie food or not, he scarfed it down, suddenly famished beyond all reason.

"Thank you," he said automatically.

"I have much food. It is scattered about my home, and easy to find if you look. It never spoils, so you may feast on it as you please."

Harlow sighed, and clambered up to sit on the counter. An act of rebellion his twelve year old self would have been proud of, even if Glade didn't give him the smallest sliver of annoyance, having no understand of manners itself.

"I'm really never leaving…" he said, his voice like a half-deflated party balloon still adored by a kid who refused point blank to throw it in the trash. "If that's it then, what happens when you get bored of me?"

"I never get bored of my playthings."

"How big is this place? Is it a universe, or a realm, or a room in some alien mansion?" Harlow thought these reasonable enough questions, considering his circumstances.

"An infinite pocket dimension," Glade replied. "If you travel far enough, my collection begins to grow thin. There is a boundary of where my possessions lie, and after that is the abyss. It is nearly impossible to find one's way back from nothingness."

"I hate it here," Harlow said, as though he had not made this feeling quite clear before. "I want to be around other people. Not you."

"I will bring you some," Glade promised. "Allow me a few minutes to collect them. You shall have a companion, as all humans crave, or more than one if it suits your fancy."

Harlow froze, debating his own morality versus the loneliness soon to bloom from this isolation. How could he allow more people to be stuck in this horrible purgatory of preserved humanity, just so he could have someone to talk to? The truth? He couldn't bear it. At least, not yet.

"No," he begged, the first tears ever created in this pocket dimension blooming in his eyes. "Please, don't put anyone else through this. I'll be good. I won't complain. I promise."

"Oh, how you confuse me." Something odd bloomed over Glade's face, a poor mimicry of a half-understood human emotion. "I see… Come along then."

Harlow hopped off the counter and followed Glade as it walked under a vast canopy of safety pinned together curtains fashioned from every familiar fabric and exotic cloth created by the hands of humanity.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Glade called in a sing-song voice. "I've brought a new trinket. This one can talk, so I'm sure you'll like it."

People approached Glade and Harlow from the shadows. Well, not people, exactly. They were like Glade, monstrous and wonderful, stepping straight from a story book and into Harlow's waking nightmare. There stood more figures than Harlow could keep track of, intent on viewing the treasure Glade had discovered.

"I finally brought a human home," Glade said proudly, if such a being were capable of pride. "Isn't it just a doll?"

Harlow flinched as numerous hands and insect-like feelers crept over his body, Glade's companions examining him all too closely. He felt as though he had jumped into those foam pits he had so loved as a young child, touched in all directions yet floating in oddly empty space.

"Get off of me," he demanded, forgetting his promise not to complain as he shoved the nearest figure away. "Stop it. I said stop!"

Harlow tried to break free of them, pushing and shoving, even striking at them with closed fists and elbows. But he was pulled back, the creatures murmuring in appreciation on how bizarrely Glade's newest acquisition behaved.

"Stop touching me," Harlow cried. "Please. I hate being crowded. What are you doing?"

"What is it doing?" the specter asked. It brought its freezing yet intangible hand to Harlow's face, as though to seize his tears.

"That is so weird," another remarked, clicking its pincers in an oddly specific pattern.

The different figures murmured to each other, formulating explanations.

"Is it because we're touching it?"

"It's water… I think."

"He's crying," Glade explained, flapping its hands in mimicry of human excitement. "It means it's upset. Isn't it the most delightful thing?"

"I hate you," Harlow said thickly, as tears continued to stream down his reddened cheeks. "I want to go home."

"You are so repetitive," Glade remarked, before perfectly imitating Harlow's voice. "I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home."

Harlow finally relented. As the nightmarish figures poked and prodded him, discussing him amongst each other, he only hoped that they would soon grow bored and move on to newer shinier pursuits.

How could he stand to do this for the rest of eternity?