#beanprompts

[itswhumpday]

GIVE ME NICE WHUMPER!! GIVE IT TO MEEEE!! Open... the nice whumper vault. Stop... having it be closed. D : asdfghjkl

Hhhhhhhhhhnnnngggg… Fine! Just this once. 

---

“I’ll be right here when you come out, alright?” 

Whumper’s voice was always the last thing Whumpee heard before everything went to shit. They tried to remind themselves it wasn’t Whumper’s fault. But it was damn hard not to hate their guts when it hurt like this. 

The tests were a stepping stone on the way to a cure. A cure for humanity. Whumpee just had to suck it up. They were the ones who had begged to join the program anyway. And Whumper always said their life meant nothing when compared to the survival of the species. 

First, the new drug would go into the bloodstream. The effects of each one were always a fun surprise. The disease took over the entire body, with symptoms that varied from case to case, with a few common ones. More than just a cure, they helped develop medicine for the symptoms. Only one thing was always the same: the burning sensation spreading through their flesh as the liquid travelled. 

“Steady,” Whumper said, holding Whumpee down as they struggled against the uncomfortable restraints that held them to the table. There were still bruises where they had been held down before. The restraints weren’t enough. When the drug spread… every instinct they had yelled that they had to leave. A spasm made Whumpee try to pull their arm away and Whumper slammed them down. “Steady, now!” 

“I heard!” Whumpee spits back, trying to hold still. It was like trying to keep smoke inside. You can do it for a while, but one the burning gets too intense, builds up too high, you have to let it out or it consumes you. 

The burning was on their chest now, their breathing getting labored. Sweat covered their entire body within a few minutes. Ah, so this was what they were trying to treat this time… 

“Hey. Don’t fall asleep.” Whumper gave them a little slap to the cheek. Whumpee held back the instinct to bite them. 

“Wasn’t… planning… on it.” Whumpee managed, as their throat kept closing up. 

“I mean it. If you embarrass me, I’ll stop giving you extra pudding.” 

“No… You won’t.” Whumpee’s back rose off of the table as a new wave of searing pain crossed their chest as if scorching iron was being touched to the skin and let out a pained scream before falling back down, breathless. They felt Whumper cleaning their face with a glorious cold compress. “You… hate… pudding,” Whumpee continued, as if nothing had happened, although dark spots were swimming around their vision. 

“That’s true.” Whumper always seemed casual during these sessions. Whumpee didn’t know if it was all an act, or if they were truly this able to ignore another’s feelings. Whumper held them by the neck - not hard, but enough to cut the limited supply of air. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make your life much worse if you don’t fight.” 

Whumpee fought. They rose off the table, banged back down, revolted against the retraints until they felt blood. Whumper pulled back with a smile, raising their hands. Whumpee saw it as if they were seeing it on the other side of a tunnel. They let go, closing their eyes and focusing on their breathing. 

They opened their eyes a second before Whumper was about to slap them again. 

“One day…” Whumpee said. “W-w-when… This is all over. When this… When we get this cure…” Getting the words out was a struggle on itself, but this they had to say. “I’ll kick your ass.”“And if when we do get this cure, I’ll let you.” Whumper said, leaning closer and raising an eyebrow. “There’s an incentive to stay alive.”

---

Listen, this one BROKE ME. T'was the reason for me collapse. I could not conceive of a nice whumper even WAS. I was in shambles, not thinking myself worthy of this community.

But I have returned and FACED MY FEARS. There's your nice whumper!

And as usual, my requests are ALWAYS open. I might take over a year (like I did with this one), but I'll get to them eventually

[itswhumpday]

Hardened and no-nonsense (can come across as callous/exasperated) Medic + inexperienced and slightly terrified Whumpee, and Whumpee needs stitches or other painful field treatment without pain meds available?

I went with firemen, because they are a blast. Haha! Get it! Anyway, love this trope. Thanks for requesting it.

A building had collapsed. Again. 

Caretaker barely noticed it anymore. It was just a part of living in a world of superpeople. They broke things to “save the city”, then ran off when it was time to pay the bill. And today seemed to be some major battle because the earth had been shaking more than usual and calls had been coming in from everywhere. 

Before they left, the Caretaker saw the rookies getting ready. It would be their first mission. They looked so excited: eyes gleaming, hands nervously checking their equipment. Caretaker hoped they would get a good first run: something chill, to ease them onto the job. They would have many years like Caretaker had to regret going into this career. They could have a couple of days to believe they were heroes. 

The building was pretty standard. Most people were already outside. Caretaker stayed out to help with first aid. Some of their comrades went inside to search for the rest of the victims. Everything was running smoothly: people were being put into ambulances and evacuated, bit by bit. 

Which, of course, was when the world went to shit. Figures. 

The Caretaker’s walkie-talkie blared. Their team was going to be split in two because they were the closest location to the attack. Supervillains trying to destroy City Hall. Caretaker didn’t know why they kept building that place up since it got blown up all the time. 

“Some of ours were inside.” Said dispatch as the Caretaker got into the truck. “The rookies. They were picking up donations for last week’s victims.” 

Caretaker swore. The truck lit up its lights and sirens and they raced to city hall. Another truck had arrived and was already trying to put out the fire. Caretaker runs inside, with two others right behind them. One separates once they enter the hall. The ceiling has a gaping, flaming hole, which isn’t very encouraging. As they went from room to room, their colleague gathered the people who could walk and started walking them back to the entrance. Caretaker was alone. But that was fine. That had happened many times before. 

Caretaker helped a worker whose desk had fallen on her and handed her off through the window to a colleague. The rest of the floor was mostly evacuated. Then, as they walked past the elevator towards the stairs, they heard whimpering. 

“Hello?” They called out. 

“Here!” They heard, from below, through the elevator doors. Caretaker quickly took out the tool and got the doors opened. The elevator car was halfway here, halfway down. The cables were all twisted and it looked like it was the only thing holding it in place and keeping it from breaking down. “I- I’m here.” 

Called the person again. Caretaker carefully looked inside. At the bottom of the car, laid one of her rookies, Whumpee. Boxes and boxes of donations were around them on the floor under the little light coming from her flashlight. Their body however, was on the floor. An insane amount of blood covered the floor of the elevator. 

“They had—” They tried to say, eyes so pained they were unfocused. “They had donations— The… the elevator.” 

“Shh. It’s fine. I get it. Let’s get you out of here.” 

Caretaker assessed. Down was always better than up, especially in a flaming building. They raced down the stairs into the basement until they found the entrance to the elevator. Luckily, the doors were already opened there.

As soon as they arrived, they noticed the rookie was breathing too fast. “Stop that.” Caretaker said, drier than they meant to. “You’re going to hyperventilate.” 

The rookie looked at them with tears in their eyes. 

“I thought you’d left.” 

“Why would I leave? You’re stuck with me. Now, where are you hurt?” 

They pointed. 

“My leg. It’s pretty busted.” 

One look confirmed it. It was badly dislocated. But not broken. 

“We need to get you out of that elevator before it falls. Got that?” 

Rookie shook their head. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“I didn’t ask. Give me your arms.” 

Caretaker pushed the boxer aside and grabbed the Whumpee’s arms, slowly dragging them. Whumpee yelled, but didn’t squirm. Caretaker grabbed them by the shoulders and finally got them out of the elevator, grabbing their knees before they fell. 

That, of course, didn’t help their injury, and they yelled again, staring to hyperventilate again. 

“Hey, hey. No. None of that.” Caretaker placed them down on the floor. They took out the cylinder of oxygen at their back, opened it and placed the mask on their face. “This is a burning building and we have to get out of it, right?” 

Whumpee was looking at Caretaker as if they were speaking Greek. 

“Right?!” They pushed. 

“Right.” Rookie said in a small voice. 

“And what to we need to make that happen?” 

Rookie blinked and then looked at themselves. 

“For me to walk?” 

“Fantastic. And how do we do that?” 

Caretaker placed themselves in front of their dislocated knee.

“No.” 

“Yes. Count to three.” 

“No! You’re going to do it on two!” 

“They give you too much training on that school! One!” 

“No, no, no, no!” Rookie cried, hiding their face, but otherwise firmly secure by Caretaker’s experienced hands. 

“Two!” 

“Just go already!” Whumpee yelled, read in the face!” 

“Three!”

“You’re supposed to go on two!” 

“Four!” Caretaker pulled the leg back in its place and Rookie screamed in pain. Whumpee slumped back, their eyes rolling back, their body covered in sweat, breathing heavily. 

Caretaker slapped their face lightly. 

“Hey. Wake up. This is still a burning building. We have to get out.” Whumpee blinked, in pain, their breathing difficult. Caretaker held the mask closer to their face. “Deep breaths, rookie. You can do it. I’m right here.” 

Caretaker sat them down. Whumpee slumped, looking like they would fall. Their hand grabbed the mask and they took two deep breaths before nodding they were ready. 

Caretaker stood them up, one of their arms around their shoulders. They were carrying the Rookie more than helping them, but it was alright. They stepped once. Then twice and Caretaker had to use their injured knee. They gritted their teeth and gave another step. 

Together, they would make it out of this burning building.

Thank you for reading all the way here! Reminder I take requests, I just take a VERY long time to get through them.

[itswhumpday]

This might sound weird but I wanted to ask if you could write a story where The whumpee has been trained to essentially be the whumpers pet, and once their rescued the caretaker has to deprogram them and help them recover

“Pets eat on the ground.” Whumpee says, like they’re tired of saying. They take the plate, rise it off the table and put it on the floor, where they sit in front of it. “A good pet knows.” 

Caretaker is still standing next to the kitchen table, hands on their hips, lips pursed, as if they didn’t know what to do with Whumpee. It had been a couple of days since Whumpee had started to recover enough to venture outside of their room. They were surprised to find themselves in a nice house - nothing like the ones Whumper would put them in to test them. But nonetheless, it simply made no sense to defy them. 

“You’re not a pet.” Caretaker says, as they did before. “You’re a person.” 

“People can be pets.” Whumpee shrugs, but their shoulders are still a little sore. They wince, but they have to finish the sentence. “A good pet knows.” 

Caretaker sighs, looking at their own plate on the table. They pick it up and put it on the floor next to Whumpee’s, sitting down. 

“What are you doing?” Whumpee takes their own plate, scooting to the side. Was this a trick? It had to be a trick. “You’re not a pet. Pets eat on the ground. People eat on the table. A good pet knows.”

“I am a person. And I choose to have dinner wherever I want.” Caretaker offers them a fork. Whumpee extends their hand, but they don’t go for the fork. Their thin fingers go to Caretaker’s neck, touching it as softly as a winter breeze. They put their head to the side, looking for signs, but finding none. 

“No collar.” 

“No collar.” Caretaker agrees. They raised their hands and touching Whumpee’s own throat. They try not to pull away. “And you don’t have one either.”

Whumpee looks down. It’s true. Whenever they got tested before, the collar always stayed on. If they tried to take it off, the test ended. 

“Maybe they just got bored of me.” Whumpee looks at their food with a sense of dread spreading in their stomach. “They always said they would get a new pet.” 

“They didn’t get bored of you.” Caretaker’s voice is hard. 

“How do you know?” Whumpee takes a deep breath, daring to look up at Caretaker’s eyes. They are icy and stony, an expression they still hadn’t seen. 

“Because I killed them.” Caretaker says. Whumpee’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “And there are no pets without owners.” Here’s the other one! Sorry again for taking so long and thank you so much for the asks you send and please send them my way whenever you wish <3

[itswhumpday]

Whumper torturing whumpee with a shock collar? Even better if caretaker is watching. ❤

Do I really have to make a new plot for every single one of these requests? Yes. Yes, I do. Will there ever be conclusions to these plots? No. No, there won’t. 

“Boss? There’s something here you might want to see.” 

Caretaker raises their eyes from their work to one of their teammates. They’re standing at the door of the office, holding a flashdrive. 

“And what’s that?” 

“It’s the footage from that warehouse we stormed yesterday.” 

“Is there a lead to where they might have gone?” 

“No. We managed to get a couple of license plates, but that was about it. But… There’s something else in this footage. You just… You have to see it.” 

They go around the table and plug the flash drive into the computer. Thirty days of footage are divided into sixty files. The team mate clicks one of them, jumping to a certain point in time. When the cursor scrubs the player, Caretaker sees quick movements around the warehouse, until team mate finally stops. 

There is one chair in the middle of the warehouse, directly under a light. There is one person sitting on it, fighting restraints. Their face is battered, and they’re leaning like they can’t hold the weight of their own body. They raised their face, like they’re looking for a way out. Caretaker grabs the arms of their chair, losing their breath. 

“Whumpee.” They look at their team mate, looking for a confirmation. “They’re alive?” 

Whumpee had gone missing three months before. Their apartment was torn down, there was blood all over. When they weren’t found, Caretaker had assumed the worst. 

“I don’t know, boss.” They say, without moving their eyes from the screen. “But they definitely were three days ago. Take a look.” 

Someone arrives, walking slowly, cockily. Caretaker’s hands close into fists. They’d know that silhouette anywhere. 

“Whumper,” they growl. 

And it is them. Whumpee freezes when they see them, sinking into the chair. 

“Not again. I told you, I... ”, Caretaker hears, although the audio is bad. They raise the volume on the computer.

“No. No, no, no…” Whumper shakes their finger, shushing Whumpee. “You’ve told me nothing. And I told you that nothing is inacceptable. So I thought we could try something different.” 

Whumpee starts to struggle again and Caretaker feels like cheering them on like a football coach would. They know this was days ago and if Whumpee had managed to escape, their team mate would have been able to track them. But knowing Whumpee is alive again… It’s almost too much hope to bear. 

Ignoring their fight to escape, Whumper takes something out of their pocket, unravelling it. Caretaker squints to see, but from afar it looks like a strap of fabric with some sort of device attached to it. 

“What is that?” Whumpee asks, right on cue. 

“Ah, you’ll find out.” They obscure Whumpee for a second, hovering over them. Caretaker tries to see what they’re doing, why Whumpee is screaming and thrashing. Then, Whumper steps aside and Whumpee spits on the ground next to them. 

“Are you kidding?! A collar?! Did you just collar me, you sick bastard?”

“I’d say it’s what you deserve. If you had been more collaborative, this wouldn’t have to happen. I’m just trying to make ends meet.” Whumper takes something else out of their pocket and shakes it in front of their face. “Are you familiar with these?” 

“No. I’m not a psychopath! What is this shit?”

Whumper sighs. 

“It’s for other people concerned about non collaborative animals.” They press a button and Whumpee lets out a scream. Caretaker almost jumps out of their chair.  Whumper merely laughs. “Sorry, did I startle you? I think you got the gist of it now, didn’t you?”

“What kind of collar is this?” Whumpee tries to look down, but it’s too tight for them to see anything.

“A shock collar. For disobedient pets. Of course, bigger pets require bigger shocks. I had someone make some changes for me.” Whumper pushes the button again, just for the joy of it. 

Whumpee screams louder than before, their body lifting slightly from the metal chair. When Whumper let go of the button, they fell to it, breathless, head sinking forward. 

Caretaker slams their fist against the table. 

“How long does this go on for?” 

Their team mate swallows. 

“A while.” They scrub over the next scenes. The shocking goes on and on for at least thirty minutes. Team mate finally pauses. “I- What… What should we do? What are the orders?” 

Caretaker rubs their face. 

“Find them. End Whumper. What it’s always been.” 

“But… If they’re keeping hostages now… They could force us to retreat.” Team mate retrieves the flashdrive. “If it was between Whumpee and the mission… Could you do it?” 

Caretaker feels their heart twisting. It was a twist much like the ones they felt every single night they went to sleep thinking they’d never see Whumpee again, that they were gone for good. They know what Team Mate is asking, and they’re right. The mission should always be first. 

Caretaker stands up and extends their hand to their team mate. The other took it. 

“Take care of the team for me.” 

“W- What? What are you— What will you…” 

Caretaker takes out their insignia and their weapon, leaving them on the table. 

“I’m going rogue.”

As always, my askbox is always open for requests. If you enjoy what I do, please consider getting me a ko-fi!

[itswhumpday]

HeyI have a request! Whumpee is rescued by the police, and caretaker is there too but after everything that happens whumpee is utterly terrified of everybody and caretaker has to watch whumpee desend into madness while they try to rescue them. Time skip, whumpee wakes up in a hospital bed. Restrained for both their and everyone else's safety. Caretaker realizes this when they see whumpee and while they can't take off the restraints, they caress their head and comfort whumpee.tysm if you do this!

Hey, bud! Thanks so much for your request and so sorry for the time I took. Shortly after your ask arrived, all of the protests started going on and I didn’t feel like doing anything painting the police in any kind of positive light (ACAB, after all). So I jumped straight for the time skip and I hope that’s enough. 

Caretaker hasn’t slept since they got there. Unlike the Whumpee, that’s done nothing but sleep. 

But it’s better. It is. Everything is better than what they saw almost a full day ago. 

The night was dark. The street lights were blinding. The rain was pouring. You could hear the whumpee’s roar over everyone’s voices, over the traffic, over the rain. Caretaker just stood there, wet to the bone, unable to take reality in. They’d dreamed about that moment so many times and yet something inside of them kept repeating “not like this. not like this”. 

Wet, their old clothes, now reduced to rags, clung to their weakened figure. Even in the low light, Caretaker could see the bruises and the needle pricks and the wounds. But above all, they could hear the scream. It came from the back of the throat, ripping the night. It didn’t have words: not “help” or “please”, to which Caretaker believe they would have responded. It was just a blind fight, a sink or swim instinct. 

The medical team had to sedate and restrain them. Caretaker wishes they’d done something, they’d stopped it. They heard the words “for their safety and ours” sometimes, but they never truly believed it. Whumpee was sweet and nimble. They couldn’t hurt a fly. They’d never…

But as time passed and they’d slowly dried up in this hospital room, reality started to sink in. This is not the Whumpee they knew. Or at least, they might not be when they wake up. The medical team tells them Whumpee might wake up any time now. 

Caretaker resumes their post, eyes heavy with sleep, mind filled with thoughts. They feel like, even if they manage to sleep, they’ll see the horrible things from the last 24 hours. The rescue, the restraining, the Whumpee laid motionless and strapped to a hopsital bed. 

The room has been so silent that when Whumpee finally shifts, Caretaker raises their head at the sound. Whumpee’s head lolls to one side and then the other, their eyes moving behind the closed lids. They start to mumble, first gibberish, then words. “No, no, no, not again”, they repeat time and time again. They try to move their hands, hold themselves, but the restraints stop them. They start fighting them, the urgency in their mumbling rising until it becomes a series of painful groans and sobs. 

Caretaker isn’t scared. After yesterday, they feel numb. Like they’re carried by a superior force, they lean down and hold the whumpee’s hands. At first they fight it blindly, but Caretaker rubs their thumbs against their skin. 

“Shh, shh. It’s alright.” Caretaker says. Like a work of magic, Whumpee stops fighting, listening. Their hands start to shake. Caretaker leaves a kiss on each of them. “I’m here, I’m here with you. No one is going to hurt you. You can rest.” 

Whumpee lets out another painful sound that ends in a sob. Their eyes fight to open, but they seem heavy. 

“This is cruel.” Their voice is still course from the day before. “This is so cruel.” 

Caretaker doesn’t know what they mean, but they let go of one of their hands and brushes the dirty hair out of their eyes, caressing their head when they’re done. 

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts. But you’ll get better soon. I’ll be with you the whole time.” 

Whumpee’s eyes finally get into focus, filling with tears soon after. 

“It can’t be, it can’t.”

Caretaker cleans one of the tears that fall. 

“But it is.” 

As always, if you have a request, please send me an ask. I don’t promise speed, but I do promise good whump!

[itswhumpday]

Whumper torturing caretaker? Especially if it happens in front of whumpee, gimme the horrified screams and begging for them to stop 👁👄👁

I like that! I feel like I always go back to drowning in torture scenes. I don’t know... Something drowns me to it! Haha, get it?

“Alright, alright. Let’s try this again, shall we?” 

The blindfold is removed from Whumpee’s eyes. They blink, trying to get used to the light. It has been a while since Whumper has been secretive about where they were - after all, it had been made clear Whumpee wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

What they see, however, makes their heart skip a beat. 

“No.” 

“Ah, you know our guest? Didn’t even realize.” Whumper opens a smile that lets Whumpee know that they knew exactly who that was. “Anyway. Since you won’t help yourself, I thought… Why not get the help of someone who always helps you? Well, and who better than doctor themselves?” 

Whumpee tries to scream for them, but Caretaker is out cold. Someone comes from behind and gags Whumpee so tight it’s hard to even breathe. They try to scream anyway, but all it does it get the gag wet and gross, but all of the sound is contained. “Now you be quiet and be a good sport while we get your friend here back online.” 

They take the lid off a small flask and put it under Caretaker’s nose until they spring back to consciousness, pulling back and away from the flask. They try to fight their restraints and move their head until they understand they’re blindfolded. 

“Whumper.” They say. 

“You got it! Good! No need for introductions.” Whumper puts their pointing fingers against their own lips, telling Whumpee to be silent. Whumpee tries to scream anyway, but the henchman behind them hits them in the head, letting them know Whumper means it. “Now. Let’s talk business.” 

Whumper makes a gesture and the henchmen leaves Whumpee’s side, bringing a big heavy metal barrel to the front of Caretaker’s chair. It makes a liquid sound as it sets into place. Whumpee gets tense as Whumper pulls the lid off of it. They try to smell the air, try to understand what it is, but they get to no conclusion. 

“I heard you’re a terrible swimmer, is that correct?” Whumper smiles and Whumpee understands. They start to scream again, but the henchman pulls their hair back. Caretaker is very confused by the  question. “How about you tell me what I want to know and you don’t sleep with the fishes tonight?” 

Caretaker is about to say something when Whumper grabs their head and pushes it inside the barrel of water. Caretaker screams, unable to stop themselves. Whumpee screams too. Caretaker is terrified of water. 

Whumper pulls them back and smiles. 

“Where is the base?” 

Caretaker is wheezing. 

“Base?” 

Whumper submerses them again. Caretaker fights, their whole body shaking around, trying to free themselves. They shake their head, but Whumper has a tight grip. Whumpee screams for them to stop, but they can’t even form the words with the gag. Whumper finally lets go of Caretaker and they pull back, breathing hard. Their entire body begins to shake. They move their head from side to side, murmuring something. 

“None of that is a location…” Whumper sings. “Time is ticking.” 

Caretaker shakes their head - if they’re having flashbacks or if they’re telling the Whumper they don’t know, it’s hard to tell. But it was the wrong answer anyway. 

Whumper pulls them forward and dunks their head again. Water splashes from the side as Caretaker fights even harder to get away. Whumpee screams until their voice is hoarse. Time keeps passing, but the Whumper doesn’t move. Whumpee jumps in place, shaking their head, begging them, no, NO! 

Whumper pulls Caretaker back. They come up, gulping water and coughing it out. Their body falls forward, the tremors travelling up their spine. They’re crying. Whumpee can’t stand this, not with Caretaker. Not them. 

“Last chance…” Whumper says, but they’re looking at Whumpee. That’s a message for them, but Whumpee doesn’t know what it means since they’re still gagged. 

Caretaker is still recovering when Whumper grabs them and dunks their head against the water again. The fight seems to have vanished from Caretaker. Whumpee watches as, scary second by scary second, they hold their breath until finally… Bubbles. And Whumper keeps on holding. 

“Ungag them.” They order. The henchman does it. 

“LET THEM GO!” 

“Now, that’s not the attitude, is it? Think, I just want one thing. The same thing I’ve been asking. The location. Give it to me and you can save your friend.” 

“NO! LET THEM GO NOW!” 

Whumper seems impatient and pushes the head down even further. The rest of Caretaker’s body is limp against the chair and the barrel. 

“Tick tock. Do you think I don’t have five minutes to spare here?” 

The tears run against Whumpee’s face. 

“You’ll kill them even if I tell you.” 

“That’s up to me to decide.” 

Whumpee looks at Caretaker and they understand they can’t face a world where they’re not there. They can’t understand a reality where Caretaker was alive just a minute ago and now isn’t anymore. They have to believe the team will be ready for an attack. 

“It’s in [location]! It’s in [location]!” Whumpee lets out, the pain of the words as big as the pain in their heart. “Now please, let me go!” 

“Let you go? That was never in question.” Whumper lets Caretaker go, but they don’t move, their head still inside the barrel. They cut out the ties that tie them to the chair. Caretaker falls to the side, their head hitting painfully the floor, their wet hair spreading water on the stone floor. Water comes out of their mouth and nose, but they don’t move. They don’t breathe. Whumper looks down at them and then at Whumpee. “But I’m nothing if not merciful. I do have somewhere to be.” 

They wave to the henchman, that cut down Whumpee’s ties. By the time the henchman, leaves, Whumpee is already by Caretaker’s side. I wanted to do the CPR part, but it was already too big. 

As always, if you have a request, please send me an ask! 

[itswhumpday]

caretaker passing out as soon as they get whumpee to safety!! thats the request ✨✨

I like how you think, Nonny! Ask and you shall receive! Caretaker takes a heavy step. Then another.

They rearrange Whumpee in their arms, making sure they’re wrapped up in the jacket. The snow had frozen the water on their hair and clothes. Their lips are blue, their chin chattering, their body trembling, slowly freezing. They hadn’t said anything, but their eyes were open. 

Caretaker had gone over the line. They finally had mustered up the courage to stand up to the whumper. They managed to escape with Whumpee, they’d run through the halls. Whumper got them at a dead end, in a balcony. Caretaker stood their ground, stepping in front of Whumpee. Whumper had no quarrel with that.

They’d fought bravely, but they hadn’t proper rest or food in weeks and Whumper did. When he flashed a knife and buried it in their abdomen, they fell, hearing Whumpee’s screams. 

From the ground, they had to watch as Whumper punched Whumpee so hard their head went against the railing, and their body went limp. Whumper grabbed their hair, hitting again and again against the hard rock. A splash of blood spread on the cement. 

Whumper looked back and smiled, watching Caretaker’s feeble attempts to get up. . 

“You want to stay alive and watch? Fine.” While Whumpee was still dazed from the punches, Whumper picked them up easily and, as nonchalantly as one would throw a rock, threw them over. 

“NO!” Caretaker ran to the edge, just before hearing a splash. Down there, a swimming pool. Whumper exploded in a thunderous laughter. They grabbed Caretaker, making them watch as Whumpee sank, leaving nothing but bubbles and trails of red. 

But their funny joke might just be their ticket to freedom. With a grimace, Caretaker used Whumper’s grip on them to throw them over the edge. Surprise was on their side as they aimed, not for the pool, but for the concrete next to it. They didn’t even wait before jumping to the pool. 

The cold water was a shock, and the pressure was like getting stabbed again. With pain as their only guide, they managed to find their way back to the surface. Whumpee was still at the bottom, motionless. Caretaker had swam down and must of it got fuzzy after that. In their memory, it felt like they have always been walking in the snow, in the dark. Perhaps for the hundredth time, they check if Whumpee is breathing. The more they walk, the more it’s hard to put things in an order that made sense. They remember the desperate pressuring of Whumpee’s chest, them spilling water and blood and starting to shake. But it seems like ages ago, while the first day they met seemed like just now. Whumpee’s ragged and short breath gathered in a frozen cloud, so it’s easy to see. 

Caretaker has the distant notion they’re both dying. Themselves by the way their arms can hardly hold the weight of the Whumpee anymore. A trail of their blood leads right to them, more than they’d think they could lose before not being able to carry someone. And Whumpee by the way their skin was slowly changing color, by the lowering intensity of their shivering. 

Caretaker blinks slowly, his lids suddenly heavy. When he opens them again, there was light. Their base. They made it. It was just across the field. Caretaker looks down at Whumpee, to tell them to look, but their eyes are closed. A small puff of air leaves their open mouth. That’s all the encouragement they need.

They blink again, and this time, when they open their eyes, they’re on their knees. Whumpee’s eyelids have also taken a blue color. Caretaker raises their head and see they’re halfway there. They try to get up, but their arms fail and Whumpee flops off, hanging only by the arm they’d kept around Caretaker’s shoulder.  Raising them by this arm and grabbing their waist, Caretaker manages to put themselves upright. Next time they blink, they’re at the door. They ring the doorbell and it sounds like angels, sunlight and Whumpee’s laughter. And then there is light and angels, but… Caretaker pushes Whumpee’s forward. “Them first.” They take two steps as the others usher them inside. But as their friends take Whumpee from them and they know that they’ll be safe, Caretaker’s knees give out, their eyes roll and they fall to the ground. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m a big fan of them first.  As always, if you have a request, my askbox is always open!

[itswhumpday]

Hey! Whumper was torturing Whumpee. It got a bit out of hand, and now Whumpee is about to die? What they gonna do? Whumpee turned caretaker pls!? ❤❤❤

Last night I was having a hard time going to sleep after getting this. So many possibilities! I’m normally not one for Whumper turned Caretaker, so I had to wreck my brain around it, but I think I got a nice one! It got super long too, so I put in a read more. Enjoy! 

Looking through the bars of the door’s window, it was hard to believe Whumper was looking at Whumpee.

They have history, the two of them. Started as apprentices to the same master, until Whumper was tired of being a pet, ready to take on real power wherever they could take it. Whumpee never understood, never cared. Such high morals and for what? For starving in a dark cell. 

Whumper comes inside, hardly fighting a smile.  

“Well, well, how the winds changed. If it isn’t the Whumpee.” Whumper laughs in delight. But there is no witty remark in return. Whumpee only looks up at them, thin and shivering. Whumper looks down at the abandoned piece of bread next to them. “Ah, they told you it was poisoned… Or maybe they didn’t? I can’t remember if it was or not… Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Whumper laughs again, but Whumpee is really not making this any more fun. Whumper clicks their tongue. 

“Come now! Where’s the witty banter? Cat’s got your tongue?” 

Whumpee’s eyes have anger on them, but they don’t say anything. Whumper growls and grabs them by the grubby shirt, pulling them up, pushing them against the cold wall. 

“Say something!” 

Whumpee’s eyes are scared now, which is not what Whumper wants. They want a fight. They want to earn that fear. 

“Did you kill them? Our master… Did you… How could you?” 

“Them? You’re worried about them?” Whumper laughed, slapping across the face. “I’m trying to have my triumphant moment and you’re worried about the person who ruined us?!”

“They taught us everything we know!” 

“They lied! They limited our potential!” Whumper pulls their collar until their faces are almost touching. “You stayed with them and look at where you are. The prized student. Why don’t we see who’s better?” 

Whumper lets them go, takes the keys in their pocket and throw open the chains on Whumpee’s wrists. They immediately rub their wrists, raising their confused doe eyes at Whumper. 

“Fight me.” Whumper says with a diabolical smile. “Want to know what happened to them? Get it out of me.” 

Whumpee stood there, trembling, looking from them to the door, as if they’re calculating if they’ll make it. They wouldn’t, but Whumper is glad to see the spark of a fighter. They go for is, but Whumper’s fist finds their face before they can take a step, sending them back against the wall. 

“Come on! Show me what they taught you all those years!” 

Whumpee’s mad now. Whumper can see. They raise their shaking fists, a feeble imitation of a fighting stance. Whumper pulls them with one movement, shoving their knee up their stomach. Whumpee falls back, wheezing, reaching for the walls, trying to stay upright. They’re bent in half. Pathetic. Weak. 

“This is what you abandoned me for?!” Whumpee seems about to say something, but Whumper punches them again. They’re tripping over themselves now. “This is the golden pupil?!” 

They shove Whumpee with all they have. Whumpee loses balance. Their head bangs audibly against the wall and then the floor. 

This fills Whumper with rage. Was that it? The big confrontation they waited years for?! The very culmination of all of their work?! They kick the Whumpee, once, twice. Their body falls to the side, revealing the blood coming out of a gash on the side of Whumpee’s forehead. Their eyes are closed. They’re out cold. 

“Haha! Yeah. The oldest trick in the book. How stupid do you think I am?” They walk to the chains, next to which is the untouched water and bread. They don’t think - honestly don’t remember - if the water is poisoned, but will serve its purpose. They walk back to the Whumpee and dumps the liquid on their head. They don’t move, the water lazily dripping into Whumpee’s mouth. Whumper rolls their eyes. “Fine! If you’re going to be like that, I’m leaving. I’ll come back when you’re ready for a real fight.” 

Whumper waits. They clean up the mess from their clothes. They have to hand over to their old friend: they’re committed to their role. Whumper is walking to the door when they hear a sound: a gasp. They turn around, thinking they got the Whumpee, but they’re still in the same position. The sound grows louder, like skin rubbing against glass. Finally, Whumpee moves, but it’s just their chest moving in spasms. 

“You’re kidding.” Whumper kneels down next to them, grabbing their face and turning it to the side. The water that dripped into their mouth comes out of it, mixing with the blood that’s forming a small puddle. But that doesn’t solve the problem. The sound coming from their throat grows rougher and huskier. “You have got to be kidding me!” 

They begrudgingly grab the Whumpee’s hand, looking for a pulse. But they can’t concentrate, because the sound is dimming now. When Whumper puts their hand to their nose, they don’t feel a thing. Whumpee’s chest has gone still. 

“No, you idiot! You absolute idiot! They still haven’t come for you! I still don’t have them!” They stop just short of saying they need them. It’s not true. They’re leverage - good, but not essential. And yet… Going through all this trouble would be a waste. “Help! I need a med team!”

It’d be useless. The dungeon was notorious for being deserted - so no prisoners could have contact. They’d have to take them to the med bay. 

What are they even thinking?! If this is a trick, their new master would end them. They stand up waiting. They’ll have to breathe eventually.  But as seconds pass, all that changes is their blues getting a bluish tint. 

“Shit.”

They grab Whumpee and raise them in their arms. There is no resistance. Whumpee’s head falls back, their mouth agape, but no air coming in or out. They’re light, much lighter than they used to be. Whumper feels the poke of several pointy bones that didn’t used to be there. There is a pang of guilt that they shove away. 

Whumper gets out of the cell, running up the corridor and up the stairs. They find the med bay soon enough, glad it’s empty. They drop Whumpee on it. Their limbs spread in awkward angles. Their head is tilted back, almost falling form the table, unveiling a sliver of the sclera. 

They find the ambu bag and hold it over their mouth, pushing on it twice. They put their hand to their neck again, looking for a pulse. It’s sporadic and weird, as an interference rather than a rhythm. While they push the bag again, they hook up the heart monitor, that shows exactly what they thought. 

“Damn it.” 

The numbers on the monitor are dropping. Whumper puts the bag to the side and start compressing, keeping count silently. Their anger helps them push and Whumpee’s body is shaken with every compression. They take the bag again, pushing air into the body. 

Whumper doesn’t know how long they’ve been doing this when the machine beeps, letting them know there’s a shockable rhythm. Whumper lets out a smile, even though they feel like passing out. 

“Maybe this situation isn’t so bad.” 

Whumper pulls open Whumpee’s shirt. The bruises of their kick are starting to show very slightly. Whumper takes the defibrillator, charging the paddles. Since there’s no one to clear, they just shock Whumpee’s chest. It hikes up, and then falls again. When Whumper pulls away, they notice the burns. They forgot the gel. Oh, well. 

The monitor tells them it wasn’t enough. 

They compress, they press the bag, they shock again. This time, Whumpee gasps. But the sound is much like the ones they made in the cell. Not enough. Their lids are fluttering, as if they’re having a terrible dream. Whumper keeps compressing and pushing air into their lungs. Their arms are getting tired, they’re tired of all of this. 

“Last chance, golden pupil. I’m going to leave you here like I did that day.” They set the machine as far as it can go. A shock this hard could end them for good - and Whumper is wondering if this isn’t what they want after all. They charge, they clear, the pads meet the bare skin. 

Whumpee’s body raises higher than before, shaking madly. Whumper is supposed to take it off, but they keep it there, the strength of their anger keeping them there. For a second, they’re Frankenstein and it’s monster. Until reason made them pull away. Whumper throws the defibrillator to the side, letting out a frustrated scream. 

But as they stop to listen, they hear the heart monitor climbing up to a normal rhythm. When they look back, Whumpee is gasping again, but this time, their chest is raising and falling. 

“Motherfucker… They always come through.” Whumper wonders if they should have taken the opportunity. It was too good. Their hand even wraps around Whumpee’s neck ever so slightly. But when Whumpee blindly touches their hand, trying to fight them, they know it’s no use. They never had this instinct to fight and this is why Master had chosen them. 

Whumper puts an oxygen mask around their face to help them breathe. They’ll have to go back to their cell, of course, while they wait for their old master to strike. But just for now, Whumper can secretly look after their old friend. That was it! I loved writing this!  As always, if you have a request, my askbox is always open.  If you enjoy the stuff here on my blog, consider giving me a tip on Ko-fi!

[itswhumpday]

I loved that last post about "them first". Always a classic. Anyway, I have a prompt. Character A has a heart condition they've kept secret from character B who finds out by accident from character C. Or maybe A has chronic illness. I rarely see something like lupus or Lyme in whump and there's so much opportunities where those are like guilt and feeling worthless or not wanting to tell the person they're dying

I did a lot of heart research for Blood Bags, so I decided to use some of the knowledge here and go for the first option! I really tried thinking of scenarios to make lupus or lyme work, but I just didn’t feel like I knew enough about them to portray them adequately.   Also, I’ve been doing a lot of hurt to my characters, so... Here’s some comfort!

“You really don’t have to come see my parent”, A says. “They’re fine! Besides, they don’t want you missing your classes.” 

And that’s ridiculous. How could B not go? A’s parent has been like a parent to them too since they’ve started dating. They’ve taken them into their house when they had nowhere else to go, helped them get back on their feet when they lost their parents. What was a couple of classes in the face of gratitude? And what kind of partner would they be if they weren’t there for A?

B drives through most of the night, sleeps a bit at a motel and goes right back to driving. Finally, they reach the hospital and ask for a visitor’s pass. The receptionist explains how to get to the room. 

A’s parent is ecstatic. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” They say, opening their arms for a big hug. “A said you couldn’t make it!” 

“Me? No way! I had to come.” B pulls a chair up to the bed. A’s parent looks a little thinner than they did before, but overall alright. “You gave us quite a scare, I’ve heard.” 

“Tell me about it.” A’s parent puts a hand to their chest and takes a deep breath. “All this time and we didn’t even know.” 

“Well, how can you know when you’ll have a heart attack?” B asks, their brows furrowing. 

A’s parent stops dead in their tracks. 

“They didn’t tell you.” 

“Tell me what?” 

“Ah. Ah, sugar. Why would they do that? What an incredibly uncomfortable situation…” The parent shakes their head. 

“What is it? You’re scaring me.” B goes to the edge of their seat. 

“Ah, well… Is just that… This whole thing… It wasn’t so random. Doctors think… Doctors say it’s a… Quite a rare condition.” They mull over their words, like they’re choosing it. “It’s called a Long QT syndrome. It’s a… A heart thing. Messes with the rhythm. It doesn’t have a lot of symptoms, it just… Flares up.” 

“Ah. That’s… That’s terrible, I’m sorry.” B says, although they have a feeling that is not all. “I wonder… I wonder why A didn’t tell me.” 

A’s parent’s eyes avoid them. They clear their throat. 

“There’s really… You see, there’s really no way of knowing. Not until… Until it flares up, but it… It’s often… Often hereditary. They… We don’t know. I’d assume… I’d assume that’s why.” 

It’s like the whole hospital suddenly became quiet. The machines, the nurses, even the vending machines, perfectly still, perfectly quiet. B looks at their hands, realizing how powerless they were. They’d driven all night for a surprise and they got a surprise alright.

“Ah.” They murmur. 

The rest of the day is just as unusually quiet.  

 ***

After A and B return to university, A still doesn’t say anything. 

B didn’t stay long enough to see their partner that day and they don’t know if their parent told them anything. Either way, A acts like they don’t know. They meet before class, they have lunch together, sometimes they meet for studying in the library. 

Many times, B catches themselves looking at A, wondering if they’d always feel this fear. Imagining that one day, what happened to their parent could happen to them and B would be powerless to stop it. They’d lie awake at night, imagining A was alone in their room, dying. Sometimes they’d text them and get ever more worried when they didn’t reply, even though it was the middle of the night. The only way they could sleep in peace was when A was safe between their arms, breathing slowly against their chest, in total violation of dormitory’s codes. 

“Okay.” A finally says after a study session. “Spill it. Why are you acting weird?”

“Weird?” B begins putting their books away. 

“All… Clingy and stuff. Are you worried about something?” 

B hesitates, pursing their lips. A sees right through it. 

“Well?” 

“I, uh…” B starts. “I went to see your parent a couple weeks ago… In the hospital.” 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t see you there.” A’s eyebrows furrow.

“I went there in the morning. You weren’t there. And, uh… They told me what it was. What it really was. And… I just…” 

A shakes their head, rubbing their face. 

“And you’re worrying about that. See? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d be like that.” 

B feels like their heart recoils a bit after this comment. 

“Well, you’re my partner. I worry about you.” 

“You don’t have to. I’m fine. I’m young and healthy and it’s not certain that I have this thing.” A also starts to put their things away. “I came to college to escape my parents worrying about me. I don’t need another parent.” 

“At least you had parents to worry about you. It’s not as bad as you make it sound.” B says, looking at their own hands. Their face is red and hot. They want to end this conversation already. 

“I’m sorry, B. You know that’s not what I meant.” A sees they’re being rough and their expression softens. “I just… I’m fine.” 

“So did you test it? Are you sure you don’t have it?” 

A shrugs. 

“No… I... I didn’t test it.” 

“Well, why not?” 

“Because!” They pick up their things and stand up. “Because what if I do have it? Will I have to restrain myself until I’m old?” 

“Uh… Yeah? If you want to live until then!” B stands up too. They start walking out of the library under ugly stares. “How can not knowing be better?!” 

“It just… It just is. Alright?!” A’s voice climbs up when they stepped outside. They take a deep breath. “Listen, I… I don’t want to talk about it anymore. This is my decision. And if you don’t like it… Well, then…”

“A.” B stops them, with a serious tone. “Please. We’re both stressed. We shouldn’t do this now. We don’t want to do anything we’ll regret.” 

A opens their mouth to retort, but close it. They bite the inside of their mouth. Their expression falls and they seem about to cry. 

“Okay.” They say in a small voice. 

B is about to open their arms and pull them in for a hug, but they race down the stairs and out of sight. B sighs, predicting another round of sleepless nights. 

 ***

A doesn’t call. A doesn’t answer texts. Sometimes B sees them going to class, but they don’t meet eyes. All of their friends are asking what happened, but B can’t say. It’s not their secret to tell. So they just shrug and say it’s something A needs to figure it out on their own. The question keeps popping up, however. “Are you two still together?”. 

Of course they are, B thinks. They wouldn’t be able to feel this calm if they weren’t. They’d been together since high school. It couldn’t have ended that day at the library. No harsh words were spoken, nothing had been discussed about this. They weren’t over, not yet. 

But it sure feels like it. Lonely lunches and cold nights, solitary walks and endless rereading of past messages. B begins to wonder if they were wrong, after all, if they should have minded their own business. But it was hard to follow this line of thought. A means the world to them. Not to know if they were sick of not… Was scary to say the least. A world in which they weren’t there… It was terrifying. 

 ***

It’s late and B is laying awake once more. There is a storm raging outside. The sound of rain used to help them sleep fast. Not today. 

There is a knock at the door. They sit up and look at their phone. 2AM. Who could it be? Having nothing better to do, they get up, dragging themselves to the door. 

On the other side A is standing, all wet from the rain and trembling. 

“Hey.” B says, opening their arms before they could think of anything else to say. A slides into them, hugging them tight, crying. “What’s wrong?” 

“I did it. I did it, I took the test.” 

B holds their breath, but A doesn’t continue. 

“And?” 

A hugs them tighter. They take a little longer to reply. 

“I have it.” 

“Oh.” 

They stand there, halfway to the hallway for a long time, B holding A. They caress A’s hair, rubs their back. This is exactly what they were afraid of. But when they’re standing here, holding A… It doesn’t feel so daunting. 

“Hey.” They finally say. “Come inside. I’ll make us some tea.” 

A nods and lets themselves be guided inside. They sit on the bed, like they did so many times before, while B fills up the electric kettle on the bathroom sink and plugs it in. They sit down next to A, taking their hand. 

“I, uh… I didn’t mean to stay away, I…” A sniffed, rubbing their sleeve under their nose. “I just… I didn’t want to be sick. I thought… I thought I could make it go away, I…” 

“Hey.” B stops them, brushing their wet hair away from their face. “You don’t need to explain. You were right too, I need to respect your wishes. I just… I can’t help worrying about you. Because I love you, you know.” 

A smiles. 

“You say that like it’s so simple.” 

“What?” 

“I love you.” A tries it, playing with the hem of B’s shirt. “It’s easier when it’s with you.” 

B smiles, leaning over and kissing their forehead. They stay in silence, listening to the water boil, but not wanting to move. A sniffs again, cuddling closer to B. 

“I don’t… It’s… It’s not fair. That I have this. I never did anything. I was just… Born with it.” They say, their voice climbing up as emotion takes over. “And I… I’m so scared… And— And— I just— I didn’t want to do it alone.” 

B squeezes them tighter. 

“You’ll never have to do it alone.” B touches their forehead to A’s. “Whatever you have to do to… To keep it manageable, to work around it… We’ll do it together. I’ll be with you the whole time. Okay?” 

A looks up at them, their eyes still filled with tears. They’ve always had trouble accepting the things B so willingly presented to them. But in that moment, they feel so relieved that they can’t help but believe. They believe in B more than they believe in anything else. 

“Okay.” 

B gets up and brews them two cups of tea. They cuddle together in the single bed, listening to the storm outside, sipping tea and telling secrets. Tomorrow was terrifying. But tonight was good. 

Remember, my askbox is always open for requests (all that I ask is time to get to them!) 

And if you read it all the way here, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi!

[itswhumpday]

Caretaker has left whumpee with one of their friends to watch over them for the weekend. They dont think much of it but they have to come bacl early since the friend calls caregiver in a panic saying whumpee is freaking out. Caregiver realizes that the friend might've done something to trigger the whumpee on accident and has to cone back to comfort them

I am sooooooo so so so so sorry I took this long, I was focusing on writing my book and then editing it...  But here you go! 

From the end of a tunnel, Whumpee hears their name. 

It’s soft and it’s calm and it patiently calls them back. They want to resist. They want to stay down, stay on the ground. Maybe if they don’t move, if they stand still, the Whumper won’t get to them, not today. 

They’re gone. The soft voice reminds them. Nothing can hurt you, I promise. 

Promises, promises. What good were those? Well, didn’t the Caretaker promise to stay with them and then drove away? Of course, they had talked about it then. But how could the Whumpee know? How could they know what it would be like to be alone again after so long? 

They’re really sorry. They didn’t mean to. It was my fault, I should have told them about that word. 

With a jolt, the Whumpee realizes their eyes are open. They’re staring at a wall. Their hands hurt, grabbing on to each other under their bent knees, nails pressing so tight it was about to rupture the skin. 

The voice is coming from behind, as well as the consistent rubbing motions on their arms. Whumpee blinks, finally snapping back to reality. 

“It’s alright.” Caretaker says, as they’ve been saying for a while. “You’re alright.” 

Whumpee lets go of their own hands, feeling exhaustion on their muscles as they pull back. Caretaker stops, giving them space to move around. 

“Hey… Are you back?” 

Whumpee whirls around, still half waiting to see the Whumper. There is Caretaker, messy hair and new bags under their eyes that weren’t there before?

“Me? You’re back! I thought you were going to be away all weekend.” They look out of the window. How long were they out of sorts? There had been a long time since they blacked out like that. Wasn’t Friend supposed to keep on eye on them anyway?

“I came back early. I heard you weren’t feeling well.” 

Whumpee is quiet. They don’t remember not feeling well. They don’t remember anything but saying goodbye and the overwhelming fear of just now. They close their eyes, trying to force their memory. Finally, their eyes snap open. 

“Ah.” 

“Don’t feel bad. It wasn’t your fault. Or their. I didn’t tell them not to say… Those words.” 

Whumpee nods. They do feel bad. They weren’t bad words, at least they’re not supposed to be. But the mere memory of them already gets them shivering again.  Caretaker nods as if asking for permission and when Whumpee nods back, they sweep the smaller one up in a big hug. They’re warm and perfect and for a moment, Whumpee can bare to remember. 

Caretaker is so good to me, they had said to Friend, who nodded. I wish I knew why. 

Don’t be silly. Friend had replied. You know why. 

Whumpee shook their head, confused. Friend smiled. 

They do it because they love you. 

It should be such a good feeling, being loved. Being truly loved, so openly other people could see it. But not to Whumpee. Not with those words. Not after everything that happened. Whumpee could still hear. Whumper would put down the tool they were using that day. They would click their tongue and shake their head, as if Whumpee was just a silly child. 

You know I just do this because I love you.

[itswhumpday]

After being rescued from whumper, whumpee seemed to bounce back almost immediately. Caretaker was just happy to see their friend was still the same even after months of god knows what. But that illusion is shattered when caretaker comes home early and finds whumpee has broken down

I promise I’m trying really had at this comfort thing, but I’m not great at it haha. Hope you enjoy it anyway! 

What gives it away it’s the quiet. Whumpee is never quiet. 

They were, however, when they were found, or so Caretaker heard. Dead quiet, so much so they worried something was wrong in their brain. Traumatized, the doctors had said. But not since. From the moment they saw Caretaker, they’d been talking. 

About how great it is to be home, about how much they missed stuff, about how the weather is nice today. They change the subject pretty quickly whenever people try to ask about the previous months. Sometimes, Caretaker feels like they’re watching an animatronic show, and the operators are struggling to select one of the sentences the machine is programmed to say.

But today, Caretaker had a bad feeling. It began in the bottom of their stomach, a sort of dread. They practically hadn’t left Whumpee alone since they’d come home and they try to convince themselves they’re just nervous about getting back to work. They text Whumpee just to check in, because it’s the responsible thing to do, not because they’re worried or anything. 

Whumpee doesn’t reply. 

Caretaker takes a deep breath and tells themselves they’re probably just taking a bath or doing the dishes or taking a bath or… Doing the dishes. This cycle goes on a couple of times until they decide to text again. 

Still no answer. 

Memories grab them by the neck and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. Finding out Whumpee had been taken, not knowing where they were or even if they were alive for months. They grab the table, convincing themselves that that would not happen again. That Whumper was gone, that life could be normal again. But this feeling doesn’t go away, until they finally get up and tell their boss they have a terrible headache and can’t finish the day. 

They almost jump when they realize they’re home. They drove the entire way automatically, without even thinking. They can worry about that later though. They rush to the door and open it. 

The house is silent. 

Caretaker steps inside, closing the door. 

“Whumpee?” They call. “Whumpee?!” 

The silence continues. They walk inside, trying to calm down. Maybe they’re asleep. They hear something falling in Whumpee’s room. Caretaker rushes to it, grabbing the doorknob and swinging the door open. 

Whumpee pulls away, pushing tighter into the ball they’re forming on the floor. Caretaker looks for signs of a threat - out the window, in the closet, on the floor. Then they finally hear it. The sound of Whumpee’s sobs being kept in. It’s almost imperceptible. It makes Caretaker wonder how many times this had happened without them knowing. 

“Hey…  What’s wrong?” They feel stupid the minute they ask. They know what’s wrong. It’s written all over Whumpee: in their thin wrists covered in restraint marks, in their frail body covered with still healing bruises, in the missing bit of their ear. All the things they preferred to ignore before because Whumpee seemed to be doing so well. Caretaker kneels down next to them, but Whumpee hardly registers their presence. 

They just keep crying. 

Caretaker waits by their side, waiting for it to subside, but it doesn’t. Whumpee’s knuckles are white so hard their hugging themselves. The sobs vary in intensity, but their sound is always kept in, so it’s hard to differentiate between them except for the amount Whumpee’s body shakes. Caretaker wants to hug them, but they’re scared to startle them. 

“Whumpee… Is it okay if I touch you?” 

Again, they don’t reply. Caretaker decides to try. They put their hands over Whumpee’s hands, not missing how tenser they get. Fighting all better instincts, they rub the fingers slowly to make them relax, starting to hum a song - the first one in their mind. 

They don’t know how long they’re on the floor, humming and massaging Whumpee’s hands. Twilight spreads an orange glow all over the room and night throws it into darkness. Whumpee’s hands slowly start to relax and Caretaker manages to hold them. The sobs become more spaced, less frequent. Finally, when silence is back, Caretaker asks. 

“Hey… Are you back?” 

Whumpee raises their puffy eyes, like they’re surprised caretaker is here. They look around and take a deep breath, pulling one of their hands to their chest. 

“I…” Their voice is hoarse. “I…” 

Before they can say anything, their lip trembles, as if the crying is about to resume. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now.” Caretaker assures them, squeezing their hand. 

“I know… I know, I… I shouldn’t… This is…” Their sentences are always cut by hiccups. They hide their face in their hands. 

“Can I hug you?” 

Whumpee slowly nods, taking their hands down. Caretaker slides next to them, pulling them to their embrace. They remain on the floor, just the two of us. 

“What happened to you was so scary. I’m scared too. Even today, when you didn’t say anything.” Caretaker tells them. “You have every right to feel bad sometimes. You don’t have to put up a brave face for me.” 

Whumpee tries to speak a couple more times, but they end up crying again. Caretaker lets them, rubbing their back and going back to humming. 

That night was mostly quiet. But now it wasn’t such a bad thing.

Remember, my askbox is always open for requests (all that I ask is time to get to them!)

And if you read it all the way here, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi!

[itswhumpday]

Hey! Just found out about this immaculate whumpy blog!! What about vampire caretaker x human whumpee? ❤

Thanks for using the word immaculate, you flatter me! Ooooh, this takes me BACK to the good old days. You say vampire caretaker and human whumpee? I raise you vampire caretaker as the accidental whumper to save human whumpee’s life!

Caretaker closes the door behind them. They’d dodged a bullet for now, but they had to leave and take Whumpee out of there tonight. Whumper had seemed suspicious of their interest for the blood bag, even though he assure it was only for grooming purposes, to make sure their master had everything they needed. Whumper had seemed to buy it, but that meant he’d be watching. 

In their room, Caretaker picks up the stuff they’d managed to get for the escape. A backpack with food, water and clothes for the whumpee, the keys to the gates to freedom and some money they’d managed to put together. Throwing a jacket on, they casually crossed the mansion, trying to ignore the sounds of vampires having their evening meal with their blood bags. If Caretaker got to the holding areas in a couple of minutes, Whumpee would have just arrived and it would be at least a full day before Whumper had a need for them again. 

Waiting in the hall, Caretaker tried not to worry. Whumper always boasted their absolute control over their instincts and how, different from the others in the house, they’d never lost a blood bag from feeding. However, Caretaker knew the truth. Their control excited them, made them want to test their limits. He’d never killed a blood bag, sure, but he’d gotten close enough. 

Caretaker had been a blood bag himself years ago, too many to count. They amused the Whumper, until one night he decided to turn him. He became his servant, minding the new blood bags after him. It was fashionable to have a turned servant at the time, but their position had since become obsolete. They often caught themselves clenching their jaw upon thinking that their life had been nothing but a fashion trend. 

Whumpee had been different. They hadn’t fought. They said they’d been a blood bag before to another master and they’d lost home of going home. During the patching up and the transfusions and the fluid replacements, they’d tell tales of a nice house, of warm dinner and beautiful sunsets over the city’s silhouette. 

If there had ever been a chance to do something useful with their afterlife, this was it. Caretaker heard the sound of Whumpee being wheeled in and started walking towards the cell. The other servant stayed a while longer than usual, but Caretaker waited in the hallway. They didn’t want them to see the backpack. But when the minion came out, they only gave them a suspicious smile, not even paying attention before vanishing. 

Caretaker walks into the poorly lit cell, his heart clenching inside his chest. Whumpee is laid across the bed as a forgotten toy. Their legs are in weird positions, their head tilted back as usual. There are purples of bruises starting to show on their arms. The new holes are just two in a neat row of bite marks. The Whumper never lets them heal it. They say they’re pride marks of a successful blood bag. 

They can see even before examining them that they’ve gone too far again. Whumpee is pale as snow, their pulse thumping quickly against the neck wound, spilling out. They’re out cold. Caretaker takes gauze and carefully patches the holes. They touch their friend’s cold face a couple of times, trying to make them come to. 

“Hey. Hey, wake up.” Whumpee’s eyes flicker open and they’re so weak it takes a couple of blinks to get them fully open. They open their mouth to try and speak, but they can’t. They’ll definitely won’t be able to get out of there walking. “I need you to be really quiet, okay? I’m getting you out of here.” 

Caretaker opens the freezer next to the bed and takes a couple of blood bags. Once they’re in a safe place, they can make the transfusion. But not yet. They have to get out of here first. They take off their jacket and puts around Whumpee’s cold body. 

They take Whumpee into their arms and start crossing the dark hallways. They can see Whumpee trying to stay awake, trying to come to. Their hands close around the Caretaker’s jacket: if it’s a sign of trust or an attempt of escape, they can’t tell. Most lords have retired into their chambers, so they don’t really have a problem going out into the cold night. It seems to have an effect on Whumpee, because they touch Caretaker’s face. 

“C-caretaker…” They whisper. “M-m-my arm.” 

Caretaker looks down, with a terrible feeling. Black lines are in the place where their veins climb up and down their arm, spreading. They’d thought they were this way because of the drinking. But no. It was mercy. 

Whumper knew. They knew Caretaker would try to take them out of there and was getting rid of them. Mercy was the quick and painful poison they used to dispose of the blood bags. It mimicked the effects of a drug overdose. Easy to hide in big cities. 

As a previous victim of the poison, Caretaker knew there was only one antidote for mercy. Vampire poison. Transformation. Whumpee started to shake. 

“I thought I’d never… I’d never see…” They needed to stop to breathe heavily. “They said… Said I was distracted… My time had come… I thought he’d kill me, but he... It… It burns.” 

Caretaker muffles their screams against their shoulder when Whumpee groans in pain. They run faster, to the gates. They look back and the house looks much bigger and scarier than they thought before.  

“Make it stop.” 

“I will.” They promise, thinking of an earlier time, when they were like the Whumpee, human. They remembered the pain of snake bite, the dizziness, the sureness of dying. They also remembered what saved their life. They lay the Whumpee on the floor, under the hiding of some bushes. They take a deep breath and tell themselves it’s possible. 

Their teeth sinks into the needle hole. 

Sweetness invades their mouth. They were fed recently, but this wasn’t like eating human food. It was always pleasure: more than human, animalistic, instinctive. They felt themselves pulling more and more, squeezing the arm harder and harder. The whumpee tries to fight with two weak slaps, but the shock is too much. Breathing hard, their free arm falls to their side and they roll their eyes back. Caretaker feels the moment they go limp and it’s ecstasy. They were made for killing: their heart catches up as Whumpee’s get slower and slower. 

Then, a pang of metal. The taste of the poison: burning their throat, invading their nostrils. The memories are too pungent. They say that the way you were killed as a human always is the worst way to hurt you as a vampire. They pull away, spitting the black liquid out on the grass. 

They lay there, on their knees, breathing hard, the poison entering their throat. They cough, dizzy. The poison won’t kill them, not now, but it hurts like they haven’t felt in a long time. And pain is not something a vampire is used to feeling. They raise their eyes, guided more by their instinct than anything else. Their eyes zero in to the bandage on Whumpee’s neck, where a bit of blood has made it red. It’d be so easy to rip it off, like opening a can. 

Whumpee is shaking, still unconscious. Sweat trickles down their face. There is something about this vision that reminds them they could never do that. They grab their bag and take out one of the transfusion bags, emptying it in a couple of heartbeats. Cold plastic blood bags is servant food, lords prefer the real stuff. But for them in that moment, is the best thing they ever had. It washes the poison down, where it starts to corrupt other parts of their body. That’ll buy them some time. 

They pick Whumpee up in their arms, stumbling to the gate, opening it with shaky hands and running out into the night. 

When Whumpee wakes up, they find Caretaker passed out on the floor next to their bed, where an improvised blood transfusion is happening. They look at their hands and feet and out the window. The sundown is happening and they can see it again. It’s so beautiful it brings tears to their eyes. 

Caretaker woke up with a start, looking expectantly at them. 

“Whumpee…” They murmurs. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You saved me.” Whumpee said, smiling through tears. “Why would you be sorry?” 

Caretaker, however, seems inconsolable. 

“I… I am…” 

“My hero.” Whumpee says. 

Caretaker dares to think they just don’t care, but the look of their eyes is vacancy, not acceptance. 

“What do you remember? About last night?” 

“You went to find me in my cell… You picked me up and took me. But I… I passed out.” They look at their own arm, touching the teeth holes. “That bastard.” 

The truth comes over Caretaker like a wave. Whumpee doesn’t know yet. They dont remember. They think it was Whumper. I loved doing this prompt. There’ll be a part II to this!  And as always, if you have a request, my askbox is open!

[itswhumpday]

Whumpee and caretaker had a bad argument. Upset caretaker walked off to organize their thoughts, leaving whumpee alone at their house. Caretaker came back few hours after, reminding themselves whumpee would be terrified if they were left alone for way too much time. Only to find whumpee being beaten up by a stranger. You do wonders with just a quick prompt, so let's set the bar a little higher. 💛💛✨

I’m not sure this is what you had in mind, but I hope you’ll appreciate it nonetheless! I tried not to extend myself too much... Thanks for the more specific prompt, I had a lot of fun! 

Caretaker had left without a coat. It’s just like them. They’re not confrontational - not with words, at least. When verbal confrontation happens, they automatically aim for the door and don’t look back until things have cooled off. Well… Now they’ve cooled off, quite literally. 

It’s not Whumpee’s fault. They can’t help the things that they do. The clinginess, the breakdowns. Caretaker tries to understand, but they feel suffocated. They don’t feel like they have a space for their own suffering too. They saw their friend almost die. They have to see them broken down and in pain even weeks after they thought the nightmare was over. They just can’t… They can’t say that. The words die in their mouth as they watched Whumpee yell at them and apologize for things that are not their fault. They can’t even comfort them. They just… Turned around and left. 

They go around back, because they know the Whumpee will probably be asleep in the living room, waiting for them to come back.They always wait up, no matter how late Caretaker comes back from work, sometimes even asleep next to the door.  Caretaker is not ready to face them yet. 

When they walk to the backdoor, however, they find it broken into a million glass shards. Caretaker looks around. They can hear sounds coming from inside the house. They get down and walk to the kitchen. 

Whumpee’s shaky voice reaches them. “P-p-please, I just want to…” 

Their sentence is cut off by the sound of skin hitting skin. Furniture moves hastily, scratching the wood floors. Big boots make a sound on the carpet. 

“You should have never gotten away. Hate tying loose ends, but… It’s part of the job.” Looking around the kitchen counter, they can see the attacker. They’re big, holding a baseball bat. “I told them a gun would be faster and cleaner, but they wanted it to be messy so…” 

Even from here, Caretaker can hear the horror in Whumpee’s voice when they say “Whumper…” 

“That’s the one!” The attacker says cheerily, bringing down their bad. Whumpee screams. This shakes Caretaker out of their stupor. They look around, trying to find a weapon. They have knives, sure, but only the regular eating kind. They’d hidden the big ones in the shed out back in Whumpee’s first week back. They didn’t want anything around that could remind them of what Whumper had done to them. 

They have to choose fast, because Whumpee is still screaming and the attacker is bringing their bat down mercilessly against them even if they’re already on the floor. Instead of risking making a noise by opening a cabinet, Caretaker grabs the nearest heavy object: a fire extinguisher. 

Trying to block Whumpee’s loud screams, Caretaker crawls out of the kitchen and hides behind one of the couches. There is a sudden movement and Whumpee’s face appears to the side of it, hands grabbing the floor, trying to drag themselves away from the living room. Their eyes meet Caretaker’s and widen. Blood is already dripping from a wound in their face and their eye is blackening fast. Caretaker puts their finger to their mouth, asking for them to act normal. 

They didn’t have time to pretend, though. And Caretaker had a nice vision of the bad hitting Whumpee’s back. Using the cover of their scream, they roll to the other side of the couch. The attacker is standing right next to them. 

It’s now or never. 

They get up, bringing the fire extinguisher up over your head. They catch the attacker still down to hit Whumpee, so the heavy metal object makes a deep clunking sound as it smashes against the side of the attacker’s head. They fall on top of Whumpee, who screams and pushes them away. They burst out crying, dragging themselves away until their back hit a wall. 

Caretaker stays in place, breathless, still holding the fire extinguisher. The attacker on the ground doesn’t move. They drop the object when they realize it’s dripping blood on their shoes. More blood is spreading on the carpet. 

Whumpee. They go find Whumpee, who’s still trembling next to the wall. They look up when Caretaker approaches, letting out a whimper. They also have blood on them. Feeling a weird sort of hollow, Caretaker kneels down next to them. 

“Hey. Are you okay?” They ask, hands hovering over the obvious points of impact, but not daring to touch them. “I— Uh… I have to call the cops. But… I... Just tell me, are you okay?” 

Whumpee’s eyes dance from the body on the ground to Caretaker, as if they can’t process what just happened. 

“You looked just like them.” They murmur. 

“Huh?” Caretaker asks, head still spinning. “Who?” 

A reminder that my askbox is always open for requests (all that I ask is time to get to them!)

And if you enjoy my work, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi!

[itswhumpday]

Caretaker rescuing a barely conscious whumpee? Love your writing ✨

Yes, yes, yes! I feel very strongly about this! This might become a series? But not now... I’ll try to work on my requests a little bit!

It was the animals that alerted Caretaker that something was happening.

On cold days like this, they’d been sleeping in the living room, next to the wood burning stove. If Mama was still alive, they’d say that’s no place for someone to be sleeping, scattered across the floor like a vagabond. But the cold had gotten into Mama’s bones and taken her away a couple of years ago and Caretaker did not want to be next.

It wasn’t uncommon for something to scare the animals this late at night, but they’d normally settle down after a couple of minutes. Caretaker raised themselves to their elbows, looking out the window, blinking to wake themselves up.

That’s when they saw the smoke covering the moon.

Caretaker sprung to their feet, running to the door. They grabbed a coat from the hanger and put their feet inside of a pair of boots. They got out of the house, looking around for the source of the fire. The barn was fine and so was their house, it had to be somewhere else. Old neighbor Cressley’s house, in the distance, was intact, and the little they could see of the cattle farm to the west also seemed free from smoke. That only left…

At the top of a hill just outside of their property, lied an old cottage that had been empty for forever. There was talk the place was haunted, that fairies and demons congregated there. When someone had moved there last summer, it hadn’t taken long for the city to start pointing fingers and calling the new resident a witch. It certainly didn’t help that they stayed cooped up in there most of the time.

But this... This was taking it too far. Even from afar, they could see red flames licking the side of the house, smoke coming out of every part of it. It had been set from the outside.

Caretaker ran across their field and jumped the fence. They climbed up the hill, losing their breath. They jumped the short stone wall, reaching the patio. They looked around… Someone else had to be here by now. They remembered the time green seller Josie’s barn had caught on fire after lightning. The whole town had been there, even before the storm had ended.

But now there was no one.

There would be hell to pay in the next city hall meeting. But now, they had to help their neighbor.

Caretaker took hold of a bucket, but as the windows in the kitchen exploded due to the heat, they knew they wouldn’t have a chance against it. They left it aside and ran to the door. Even before they touched the door handle they could feel it was hot. So they took a step back and kicked the door inwards. It fell to the side like it was just a stick. Flames flew outwards, like they were trying to grab Caretaker. They fell on their back, dragging themselves away from it.

The inside of the house was all beyond saving. The furniture was being reduced to ashes, smoke was coming in plenty loads from the inside. Caretaker was already sweating. But that was not the worse part. The wooden beams that held the stone part of the cottage didn’t seem in the best of shape.

“NEIGHBOR!” Caretaker called, suddenly aware they didn’t even know the person’s name. They’d seen them a couple of times, watering their plants. Going for a walk. Mama had told them to never speak to them, but they shouldn’t have listened. “NEIGHBOR!”

There didn’t seem to be anyone down there, which was good. But that meant the resident was probably on the upper floor.

There was a caw in the night. Caretaker looked up, barely believing their eyes. A black bird came towards the fire. It hit the window on the top floor with its claws and cawed again. Like it was pointing at something.

Well, they’d be damned. They were trying to save a witch after all.

They grabbed the vines that grew along the stone. Seemed secure enough. They started climbing them, going for the window. They started coughing, the effort bringing more smoke and ash into their lungs. They had to stop to make sure they wouldn’t tumble from there.

They finally reached the window. As they peeked inside, they couldn't see anything. The smoke had filled the entire room - but there didn’t seem to be any fire. They managed to push the window up. Smoke came out in a big cloud, encasing them. They coughed, grabbing the vines around the house to keep themselves from falling. Everything spun. They knew, in that moment, that if they went in there, they might die.

But there was someone else in there. Someone who didn’t deserve this. They had to do something.

They brought themselves over the edge of the window and climbed inside. It was still hard to see, but the window allowed for a little more clarity. Finally, they found their neighbor.

They’d fallen halfway to the door that leads to the stairs, still in their nightclothes, like they were taken by surprise, trying to escape. They were covered in soot, coughing weakly, grabbing their chest. Caretaker turned them around and met no resistance.

There was a second of breathlessness that Caretaker didn’t know if it was the fire or if it was them. They were the most beautiful person they’d ever seen. They shook their head. They had to focus.

They grabbed the person, lifting them up in their arms. The room spun and they coughed, almost dropping them. They couldn’t climb down carrying someone. They had to use the stairs. They should’ve thought this through.

They kicked the door to the stairs down and more smoke came in a puff. They were smart enough to duck this time. Coughing, but holding on to their neighbor, they looked down. The flames had taken over most of the wood, but it was thick, so it might still hold…

They decided it was worth a go. They climbed it two steps at a time, feeling it waver under their weight. They jumped out at the last second before it all came down.

On the ground floor, it was inferno. It was too hot to breathe. Caretaker could feel themselves choking on the heat, hardly able to think. With their knees threatening to buckle every second, they took one last sprint towards the door.

Finally, they managed to get outside. The night sky greeted them like it was a new one, not made of dark, but made of color and light. They pulled in the clear air of the night, gathering strength. They kept walking to the edge of the stone wall. They fell to their knees, coughing.

They laid the person on the cold grass. They were pale as death, red burns around their nose and mouth. They coughed in the cold air, breathing it in heavily. Something didn't feel right. But Caretaker wasn't in a much better state. Their chest hurt. Their lungs felt like they were on fire.

A caw came from above and the black bird was back. They stood next to the neighbor, looking at them solemnly. Caretaker felt a chill even in the hot air of the burning house. The bird looked at them and spoke, in an almost human voice.

"Help. Help!" Caretaker looked at the bird wondering if they had lost their minds, fried their brains. They'd seen birds speak before, but never this kind of bird.

When they looked at their neighbor again, they were still struggling to breathe. Caretaker knew they had to take them out of here. Nearest hospital was at least five hours away, but their house was nearby. They'd be safer there.

They stood up, grabbing the other by their shoulders and legs. They let out a surprise sound when they were lifted. Caretaker started to move towards home.

"Hey…" They coughed, the soot still making it hard to breathe even out here. "Can you hear me?"

Their neighbor's eyelids flickered as they tried to awaken.

"Don't worry, I got you. I got you, you'll feel better soon."

Their eyes unveiled slowly, showing a deep shade of green. My, my, what a sight it was! They looked around in confusion and coughed violently, grabbing their own chest. Caretaker stopped putting them to the ground again. They were almost at the fence that divided their lands.

The neighbor's eyes found the column of smoke.

"My home…" They managed to say before they choked on their words and fell into a coughing fit. Caretaker held them, not needing to look back to know. It was too far gone to save.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything." Caretaker shook their head, barely imagining what it would be like to lose everything. "What's your name?"

Once they stopped coughing, their body limped in Caretaker's arms. Their green eyes found Caretaker and as they struggled to breathe they managed to whisper:

"Whumpee."

"Whumpee. Alright. I’m Caretaker. I'm taking you to my house. You'll be safer there until we can get a doctor."

Whumpee seemed about to retort. They opened their mouth, but not a word came out of it. They only pulled air in a couple of short puffs, but it didn't seem effective. Their eyes rolled back and their head fell to the side.

Caretaker thought they ought to hurry.

***

Mama had saved money all their life in hopes of travelling one day. But they got old and the money ended up going to the medicine that ended up not saving her. At least it would come in handy now.

Caretaker pushed the door open, carrying Whumpee in. They laid them down on the sofa and opened the windows to let the cold air in. They ran to the room and came back with the oxygen tank his mother had died using.

It's not like she was using it anymore.

Caretaker sat down next to Whumpee and put the mask against their face.

"Here. Just breathe. It will make you feel better."

At first, they thought it might be too late, that the smoke had already damaged their lungs too much, but they continued their rapid breathing, in and out. Eventually, it got slower and steadier.

"That's it. Keep breathing. I'll go call a doctor."

The town doctor didn't pick up the phone. Bloody bastard must have been 150 years old, but it was the closest thing they had. They tried to call the hospital, but they told them the same thing they said when Mama was dying.

Unless they brought them there, the hospital couldn't do anything. Caretaker turned the phone off.

"I guess it's up to me."

Caretaker took their first aid kit and carefully cleaned the burns in Whumpee's face with antisceptic, working around the oxygen mask. When it started getting too cold again, they closed the door and the window. In the distance, a part of the cottage had collapsed, caved into itself.

Caretaker shook their head.

"You saved me. Why?"

They turned around. Whumpee was awake again, but too weak to even move. They blinked slowly, like they could barely stay conscious.

"What do you mean why? You're my neighbor."

Whumpee's eyes closed for a couple of seconds. Caretaker thought they'd passed out again, but they opened their eyes again.

"But you know what I am."

Caretaker felt a shiver go through them once again.

"I do. But no one deserves to die in a fire like that." Caretaker shook their head and sat down in the ground next to Whumpee. "Sorry about your house."

Whumpee's eyes filled with tears.

"I thought I could save something… Save my books. But I couldn't even reach the door." They closed their eyes. A tear rolled down their cheek.

"Whoever did this will pay." Caretaker tried to promise.

"No, they won't. That's why they did it." Whumpee shook their head. "The ones like me were hunted near extinction and no justice was served."

"Well… Can't you…" Caretaker moved their fingers in a way that they hoped would convey magic.

"The path of vengeance is dangerous. I came here to escape it." Their heavy eyes were slowly closing. "I just… Want peace."

They dozed off. Caretaker took a blanket and put over them. They laid down on the floor next to them, keeping watch.

Perhaps Caretaker couldn't give them vengeance. Perhaps they couldn't give them peace once the town discovered they were still alive.

But they could give them tonight. Tonight… They'd be safe.

*** As always, if you have a request, just send it over! And if you enjoy what I do, please consider getting me a Ko-Fi?

[itswhumpday]

Whumper is a workaholic and basically refuses to take care of themselves until whatever they're working on is done. During one of their extended stays in their room, they pass out abd caretaker forces them to take a break so they don't, you know, die.

Hope it’s okay if, instead of room, I made it a garage! Overworking is dangerous... Especially if you work with dangerous objects, hihi. Love your prompts! Caretaker should leave it alone. They should know when they’re not wanted. But it’s hard to. They look out the window, grumbling. Across the snowy fields, they can see a light on.  

It’s always like this in the winter. Since there’s no crops and Whumpee never saves enough for a greenhouse, they start taking on mechanics jobs - which there’s always plenty of in the cold seasons. 

At first, it’s Whumpee’s excitement that leaves them for hours and hours inside of that damn garage. Caretaker can see the lights until late at night. They want to be done with it, they want to make it right. They dive in to the machines they’re given to fix, trying to find the problem, struggling to find solutions. Then anxiety gave in, Caretaker has seen it a million times. They get frustrated, don’t know where the problem is, much less how to fix it and the deadlines they give approach and other customers bring in more work. Pleasure turns to stress. The garage lights never go out. 

Caretaker doesn’t want to be a nosy neighbor, but they have been best friends for so long, that the idea of them overworking is scary. 

“You need to take a break”, they had said, when they went to visit the other day to bring them some food, knowing they’d probably be eating garbage as usual. 

“I can’t! I need to finish this so I can pay my bills for the winter”, Whumpee had replied, their anger showing through their voice. 

“If the problem is money, I’ll help. You know my crops were good this year.” 

Whumpee had looked so offended. They crossed their arms. 

“I can do it. I’m not some child who needs to be picked up.” Caretaker tried to say something else but Whumpee stopped them. “I think it might be time for you to go. I have work to do.” 

And now there they are. It’s the middle of the night, too. At first, Caretaker was only watching the window to know how far they would go, thinking they’d stop eventually. Now they make it kind of a sick game of chicken. Who will be awake the longest. 

Their eyes follow a movement coming from their neighbor’s garage door. Smoke. White and grey. Doesn’t look like it’s coming from the fireplace. They should leave it alone… But then again, it doesn’t hurt to check.  ___

Caretaker really should leave it alone, Whumpee thought earlier that night, with their face still red with anger from the fight.  It was easy for Caretaker. They always had great crops, they had that great greenhouse and their family was closeby to lend some help. Whumpee had moved alone there to make a brand new start. But they don’t call it start if you already had something. Now they have a house and some crops, but it’s hard to make it on your own. 

Heat is what’s killing them at the moment. With all that snow out there, it’s a necessity, but also a pretty pricey one.

The garage is always deliciously cozy because of the overheating motors. Sometimes, they even close the windows to keep the warmth in - even if they know they shouldn’t. Working also helps them cut out on heat. See? Caretaker doesn’t get this. 

Tonight, however, it’s being hard to concentrate. The fight really threw them off their rhythm. Coffee is only making them more jittery, but their eyes are heavy. The motor of this car is the issue, so no extra heat. Their hands have been shaking for a while. 

They sit on the car and turn it on to test the fix they’ve been making. The car chokes, but then wakes to life. Whumpee smiles at it. Suddenly, however, they start to hear the sound of the motor from the other side of a tunnel. The seat is so comfortable… The garage feels so nice and toasty. Perhaps Caretaker was right. Perhaps a little rest now that they’ve made it. 

Their eyes slowly close.  ___

Caretaker thinks they should have left it alone all the way across their property, over the fence and into the snowy fields of his friend. The wind blows snow into their eyes and their boots are still wet from the day before. They were in such a rush they hardly closed their coat, so the sides are flying back. They cross their arms and soldier on, however, following the smoke. 

When they get to it, they hear the sound of a motor inside. They try to open the door, but it’s locked from the inside, probably by an angry Whumpee after Caretaker got out that way. They go around, looking for a window, but they’re all closed. Caretaker lets out a curse. 

They clear the ice out of one the windows, trying to peek inside. 

The driver’s door is opened and Whumpee is sitting inside. At first, it seems like they’re reaching for some wires under the panel, but they’re not moving. Caretaker curses again. They look around until they find a rock under the snow. They’ll have to pay Whumpee back later. With a swift throw, they break the window. Hot air escapes from inside, smelling of burnt gasoline. 

Caretaker takes the rest of the glass out before climbing in. Inside, the smell is overthrowing. Pulling their sweater over their mouth, they manage to get to the car and turn it off. They take Whumpee by the shoulders, shaking them so they wake up. Their eyes open slightly, but their mouth is half open, trying to form words. 

Caretaker puts their friend’s arm across their shoulders and pulls them out. Whumpee’s knees are weak, so they grab their waist too. They go to the garage door and kick it, sending the lock to the side. 

The cold outside hits them, in contrast with the heat of the garage, so fast Caretaker feels dizzy. Both of them fall to their knees. But that’s just what they needed: fresh air. Whumpee breathes in, coughs, breathes in again. 

“You’re taking a break.” Caretaker decrees. “Whether you want it or not.” 

Whumpee has a hard time disagreeing. Their head lolls to the side, laying on Caretaker’s shoulder, breathing fast the cold air of the night, in an out. 

“Okay.” As always, if you have a request, my askbox is always open. 

[itswhumpday]

Whumper and whumpee get into a car crash. The whumper is either incapacitated or dead and caretaker helps whumpee recover

Heck yeah! I like that idea!   Caretaker has been described as a peculiar young person before. They don’t mind it too much though. They do like driving in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. There is something about the peace of an empty nowhere road, only the lights of their car ahead, that take them away from their problems. 

Tonight, however, would not be one of those nights. 

They take one of their favorite routes just outside of the highway. It would go on for miles and miles of forest until reaching dirt paths that lead to farms and rolling fields. It’s as silent as it always has been. But Caretaker sees a red glow coming through the trees. They think they might be seeing things, but as they follow on, it gets brighter and brighter until they see the source. 

A car, crashed against a tree. There is smoke coming out of the destroyed front and all lights are on. It’s standing at an angle, half in the road and half out. Caretaker stops outside of the road and quickly jumps out of the car, running to the wreck. 

“Hello! Is anyone alive in there?!” They peek inside the window. There is someone inside, obscured by the airbag. There’s a lot of blood. The smoke is making it hard to see through. The inside of the car is filling up with it too They try to open the door, but it’s still locked. They use their shoulder to bang against the glass. It breaks with two strikes, with a big noise. Caretaker waves the puff of smoke away with their hands. 

 They’re about to try to open the door from the inside when they finally hear something. 

“HELP!” It’s not the person in the front seat. They’re very clearly unconscious, blood spreading from their mouth and nose. “HELP, PLEASE!” 

Caretaker searches the backseat of the car, but there’s no one there. That only leave… Caretaker runs around the car. 

“Hello?!” They call, knocking on the trunk. “Is anyone there?” 

“Yes! Yes, please!” A voice comes from the inside. It’s shaken by deep sobs. “I’m here! Let me out, please!” 

Caretaker stops for a second, confused about what’s happening. Why would there be someone in there. They’re suddenly aware of how far they are from civilization. 

“Okay. I’m going to help you out. Just… Give me a second.” 

They hear coughing coming from the inside. As Caretaker watches, whisps of smoke that fill the car begin to get out of the corners of the trunk door. 

“Please, hurry!” 

Caretaker thinks. They run around the car, trying to see if they can find the keys, but the airbag is in the way. They could try to find the truck button, but the driver’s side of the car is also smashed. That door won’t open. 

That leaves one option: going inside and lowering the seats. They could only hope the kidnapper wouldn’t wake up while they were at it. Reaching in by the broken window, they pull the lock opened. They open the door, keeping one eye on the kidnapper. They pull the front seat forward, folding it on itself as far as it could go. They climb on top of it, dragging themselves to the backseat. 

They look for the mechanisms that would allow them to do it. Some cars only do it from the inside of the trunk - which would be a problem right now. They can hear the coughing coming from inside. The smoke starts to fill their lungs as well, but they try not to breathe in too much. They finally find the two buttons, pressing them with all their might. 

The backseat comes forward, forcing Caretaker to retreat to give it space. 

Inside of the trunk, a person is laying. They raise their face up weakly, tears streaking their face. Their hands and legs are tied together. Caretaker grabs them by the shoulders and knees, bringing them close so they can take them out of the car. 

“Aah! Careful, please.” They say, when Caretaker touches their knee. When they look again, it has a big dark bruise on it and it seems out of place. Caretaker nods, moving them carefully. As they retreat out of the car, Caretaker’s eyes remain on Whumper. 

They cross the street back to their car, take out their keys and use them to break the restraints on the person’s wrists and ankles. As they start to rub their wrists, they start to cry, being interrupted by coughs. 

“What happened? What were you doing in there?” Caretaker asks, as they fumble for their phone. 

“I… They took me. It’s… It’s been so long. They were moving me… I don’t know where… I....” They start sobbing, hugging themselves. “I thought I was going to die.” 

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Listen. What’s your name?” 

They can barely speak between their hiccups. 

“Whumpee.” 

“Alright. Hi. Hi, Whumpee. I’m Caretaker. I’ll… I’ll just call the police and… And an ambulance. They’ll help you.” 

“No. No, please. Please, don’t call anyone. They’ll help them too.” They grab Caretaker’s arm. “Please, just… Just take me away first. I can’t… They can’t find me… They…” 

Caretaker almost dropped their phone when Whumpee suddenly passes out, their eyes rolling back, their body going limp. Caretaker holds them, in panic. They should definitely call someone… But Whumpee seems so scared. Caretaker looks back at the broken car. 

Yeah. Whumper can wait.   As always, my askbox is always open for requests.  If you enjoy what I do, please consider getting me a ko-fi