#caretaker and whumpees

[snakebites-and-ink]

Former living weapon absolutely dominating at laser tag

[literarystarfish]

When Whumpee misconstrued one of Caretaker’s questions/concerns/casual comments to be something they are sorry for/ should be apologetic about or that Caretaker meant for them to stop doing that thing or was being demeaning about it.

“You’re bleeding!” “Sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t get it on anything!”

“Does your ankle hurt?” “I can still do the [thing Caretaker asked if they wouldn't mind doing]. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“You’re sniffling…. Are you crying?!” “I promise I won’t be loud! I just can’t stop! I’m sorry!”

“You’re breathing a bit loud. Is your rib hurting again? … WHY ARE YOU HOLDING YOUR BREATH?!”

“Your room was a bit warm today. Is that how you like it? I sleep hot so I would end up sweating all night with my heater on that high.” (A few nights later) “C-Caretaker? Is.. is it alright if I t-take the blanket from the couch to m-my room t-tonight?” “Of course! How are you still cold when you're room is so hot? Are you feeling well?— WHY ARE ALL YOUR WINDOWS OPEN?! ITS WINTER!!”

“You sure are hungry! Looks like your appetite is coming back.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take too much. I won’t eat tomorrow to make up for it.”

“Your hair looks different!” “I know… I'm sorry. I didn't really like it in [old-Whumper’s-favorite-style] so I changed it. I’ll change it back though, 'cause I know it makes me more pleasing to look at. I’m sorry.”

"Why are there bandage wrappings in the garbage?" "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to take your supplies without asking! Its just that one of my stitches opened up and it wouldn't stop bleeding."

[justbreakonme]

“Please… I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep. I’ll stand guard.”

“I thought you said it was safe here?”

“It is. But you don’t feel safe, do you?”

“…not yet.”

“Then I’ll stand guard, till you can.”

[thinkingofausername]

I love when the whumpee has to reinvent themself. No, you will never be the past you again, they are permanently changed by the trauma, but that does not mean death. You just have to find you again. The people who care about you might mourn, you might as well, but getting to know each other again can be quite interesting.

[whumporama]

Whumpee who is recovering after the whumpTM, but it's not going great. They're so frustrated with themselves, with their caretakers, just with everything. Everyone is so soft and understanding and it bothers them and they want to scream, but they know they should be grateful.

Until Caretaker comes along. Caretaker isn't 'nice' like the others, they don't take bullshit. They're good for Whumpee, but they don't baby them. They treat them like an adult with anatomy, and it's so refreshing for Whumpee.

"You want to stay up, fine. But you will tell me when you can't anymore, because if I have to drag you off the floor we're both in trouble. Understand?"

"Stop whining. What do you need?" (And then they get or do whatever it is without issues or judgement.)

"Want to tell me why you're doing worse today?" -- "No..." -- "Okay."

"Where does it hurt?" -- "It doesn-" -- "Don't give me that, I can see it hurts. Now tell me where."

Caretaker trusts Whumpee to know what they need, and lets them know again and again they won't take this nonsense of hiding their pain. They're practical, and kind, and Whumpee needed that.

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee who save themselves instead of waiting for rescue. Whumpee who waits at home for caretaker to find because they didn't know where else to go or who to trust.

Caretaker, who just came home after a hopeless day of no leads for whumpee's disappearance to find them passed out on their couch.

[spinzolliii]

DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO CLUE IF THIS IS MEDICALLY ACCURATE

Something that whump writers don’t consider:

IVs feel cold. Can you imagine a room temperature liquid going directly into the bloodstream of someone who’s 97-104 degrees? It’s hellish. You can’t get warm no matter how much external heat you receive.

Imagine a delirious whumpee whimpering and clawing at an IV while being restrained and reassured by Caretaker.

“No no no, that stays in”

“Hey, hey. I know it hurts, but it’ll help you feel better”

Maybe the whumpee’s hallucinating, thinking that they’re being tortured. When Caretaker’s words fail to get through, they have to use gentle touches and singing. Or, if you want to be mean, you can have the Caretaker being forced to restrain Whumpee to prevent them from hurting themselves until they run out of energy and pass out.

[defire]

Whumpee that's never had genuine comfort before

(comfort stuff)

Caretaker trying to be gentle and whumpee freaks the fuck out--"what are you doing?!" With paranoid wide eyes

"I'm cleaning your wounds...." "Not like that you're not. Here, give me the needle."

Caretaker trying to comfort them--"fuck, you've had it rough" and reaching out for a hug and whumpee just stares at them

Whumpee trying to be "nice" to caretaker by slapping them on the back painfully hard and making boisterous vague remarks that are supposed to be compliments

Or, whumpee staring at caretaker wondering how to say "thank you" in a way that won't get them beaten up, like last time

Caretaker impulsively hugging or touching them out of kindness and whumpee flinches away and grabs the spot like it burns

"You've always taken care of your own wounds?" Caretaker says. Whumpee frowns, confused. "Who else is supposed to do them?"

"Look, I get that you're trying to be nice, caretaker, but I have it handled," whumpee trying to get themself across the kitchen by leaning on the counters.

"I do not need you. It's okay. I'm not a burden."

[the-bar-sinister]

Recovering whumpee completely vacant and dissociated while caretaker takes care of them. Staring off into space while caretaker washes their body and tends their wounds. Only barely responding when caretaker touches them soothingly.

[thriftyshark530]

For writers that like hurting their characters

(you know who you are)

Any semi serious injury to the arms or legs can be fatal. If an artery is struck the person can bleed out in 2-5 minutes. If an artery is struck then blood will be violently spraying out of the body, as opposed to regular bleeding where the blood just leaks.

A way to stop severe bleeding is with a tourniquet. A proper tourniquet that you would expect to find in any trauma response kit, as using a shirt or anything in your environment as a tourniquet won't be very effective. The tourniquet should be placed a few inches above the wound, and tightened. The tightening process is going to be extremely painful, as it's clamping down hard enough to cut off the blood circulation. Important to note that a limb won't be at risk of being amputated unless the tourniquet has been applied for hours.

Another way to stop severe bleeding is wound packing. This is where you take gauze and fill up a wound with it. The point is to cover the area that's bleeding, so that you can apply pressure to the specific part of the body that's bleeding heavily. Applying pressure directly on top of where the blood is coming from should get it to stop, however this will again be painful for the victim.

Losing blood makes it harder to regulate your body temperature, so it's extremely dangerous to be losing blood in a cold environment. However, a victim can still get cold in warm areas from blood loss, so most trauma response kits will have specific blankets that will help the victim regulate their temperature.

Any wound that punctures the chest area is extremely dangerous. Air will begin filling into the chest cavity, which will leave the lungs with less room to expand. Eventually the lung or lungs will collapse from the lack of room, this is extremely painful. And this will all be even worse if the attack pierced a lung, which will be filling with blood. All of this will make it extremely hard to breathe. There are pads in a trauma response kit that you place over a chest wound, and they're designed to vent air out of the chest cavity while not letting any more air in. However lungs filling up with body fluids is not something you can treat on the field, and will require proper medical attention.

Getting clapped on the ears hurts and can disorient you.

Any impact to the nose will make the sinuses flare up and the eyes water, making a fight more difficult.

Any impact to the back of the skull can be fatal, or cause severe brain damage.

It's extremely easy to rip off a human ear.

The liver is located on the lower right side of the rib cage, it would be on your left side if you were looking at someone else's liver. Any impact there can put any person on the ground, as it's extremely painful to be hit there. Punches to the liver drop many professional boxers.

Kidneys are mostly the same, except they aren't protected by anything at all. Located in the lower back, the kidneys are completely unprotected from any attack. Any impact here can drop someone just like a liver punch. (I was in the gym one time and hit my kidney pretty hard on a bar and almost collapsed from the pain)

A proper punch is thrown in a way to where the knuckles are the only thing that make contact. This is so that all the force is being spread out across a much smaller area, increasing the damage to the victim.

Any impact to the neck can be fatal, and will make a person immediately start choking, making them completely open in a fight.

Removing anything that's impaled into a person will only make them bleed out faster.

Your body will force you to inhale right before drowning, which we all know it burns like hell to have water in your lungs. Plenty of people that have almost drowned have said that their body forced them to take a breath, even if there was no air to breathe.

The brain inhibits your full strength, as we're strong enough to completely rip our muscles. In times of need, the brain will let go of this limitation, basically granting you super strength. There's plenty of cases where someone was able to lift something off of someone, such as a lawn mower or car, but wasn't able to move it at all later on.

While you can live without water for a few days, maybe even longer than 3 depending on a bunch of factors, that is specifically "living". You can expect to see severe side effects of dehydration long before the person dies. Extreme kidney pain, headaches, hallucinations, dry skin, some organ failure ect.

paradoxical sensation is where you're so cold that you actually feel hot. Plenty of people have been in extremely cold environments and started removing their clothes, as they were so cold that they felt like they were burning.

The body will begin to eat itself if it's gone long enough with no food.

You have an extreme lack of depth perception with only 1 eye. You can test this out by walking around and doing tasks with only 1 eye open.

When blood and dirt and anything else gets in the hair, untangling the hair and straightening it out is extremely painful. It may even result in pulling some hair out, it might be better to shave it off if it's bad enough.

Any recent wounds sting when exposed to water, which makes taking a shower a nightmare when you have multiple of these on your body at once.

As popular as the trope is, consciousness has no effect on your survival. The "don't go to sleep" while a character is bleeding out doesn't really help, meaning you can let your character pass out or fall asleep while they're dying. This can lead to a character thinking they won't wake up while they're fighting off sleep, only to wake up in a hospital bed.

[ohohobaby]

i think the morning after a bad day with caretaker is a wonderful thing.

whumpee was on edge the whole previous day- jumping at small noises and mindlessly obeying every request caretaker asked of them. whumpee made an attempt to look small, frail, just as whumper liked them.

maybe whumpee freaks out on caretaker. caretaker will brush against an old wound, or say something that whumper used to say during punishments, or god forbid raise their voice at whumpee… whatever the trigger was, it makes whumpee feel like they’re right back with whumper.

gasping sobs. shaking- no, full body rocking. pleads for mercy, they’ll be such a good little pet, they swear.! caretaker calms them down as best they can, shushing whumpee sweetly…

but the next morning is beautiful.

whumpee rounds a corner, eyeing caretaker in the living room, expected to be denied breakfast, clothes, expected to make up for the commotion they caused yesterday-

“oh, hi, good morning! how does scrambled eggs and bacon sound?”

caretakers offer is foreign to whumpee. they’re still allowed food? and kindness? after that horribly pathetic display?

[villain-enthusiast]

TOUCH-STARVED HERO RAHH.

.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, actually,” the hero muttered from their sloppy position on the ground, though the oozing gash slicing across their torso and the fresh bruises circling their throat said otherwise.

The villain arched a brow, crouching down so they were eye level with the hero. “Do you think I’m dumb?”

The hero glowered at them. “Seems like you're deaf, actually. I said I’m fine,” they snapped, even as pain shuddered through their battered body. “Now if you could just get out of my way—,”

“Darling, please. You couldn’t stand up even if you tried, let alone walk yourself halfway across the city to your apartment.” The villain smirked at the hero’s deepening scowl, but the teasing flair didn't quite reach their eyes. “Let me do you a small favor while I’m here, at least.”

The hero bared their teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t need your stupid healing powers. You'll probably turn this into one of your idiotic bargains—," A harsh coughing fit cut them off, rattling their chest.

They tasted blood on their tongue. Fuck.

“Gosh, so prideful." The villain sighed, tilting their head. "Oh look at that, you're bleeding." They lifted a hand and ran a thumb over their hero's lips, wiping away a smattering of blood that had spilled from their mouth.

The hero's breath hitched at the villain's touch, the smallest, most delicate of noises escaping them before they could stop themselves.

The villain paused, their brow furrowing as their gaze took in every little movement and detail of the hero's involuntary response.

The hero's jaw tightened. Every muscle in their body screamed at them to get away, but they couldn't move. Or was it that they didn't want to move? "Villain, I swear—,"

Then the villain’s hand was cupping their cheek, and the hero melted.

A desperate whimper tore from their throat, their head lolling into the cool touch of the villain's palm as all the pain and exhaustion radiating through their body suddenly evaporated.

They closed their eyes, feeling their face begin to burn with shame.

"Oh, sweetheart," the villain murmured. Their other hand swept through the matted strands of the hero's hair, working through the tangles.

The hero had to bite down on their lip so that they didn't make another embarrassing noise. So gentle. The villain's touch was so, so gentle. So at odds to their earlier opponent's strangling grip and blinding punches, so contrasting to gaping loneliness and helplessness of coming home to no one, of having to painfully stitch themselves up day after day after day...

The villain brushed away a tear that the hero didn't realize had fallen.

"Hey, look at me," the villain said softly, nudging their chin up. The hero blinked at them, fighting back a sob. "You need to let me heal you, okay? You're losing a lot of blood."

The hero swallowed, barely processing the villain's words, their brain entirely occupied by the hand still on their face—or maybe it was just the blood loss. "Yeah," they managed, voice hoarse. It felt like their vocal chords were coated in tar.

"I'm going to do your stomach first," the villain noted. "I need both my hands for this, alright?"

The hero nodded, ignoring the inevitable panic that shot through them at the sudden absence of the villain's touch, which returned almost immediately on the deep laceration on their lower torso.

The hero cringed, bracing for some kind of torturous, painful mending, but the villain's powers were warm, soft, like honey in a cup of hot tea or a crackling fireplace during a winter storm. God, how many years had it been since they'd felt so comforted?

A whimper escaped the hero once more. They tensed. Jesus fucking christ.

The villain cracked a smile as they worked. "Don't worry, love. You're not the first person I've healed that enjoys the feeling." They brushed a palm over the wound, weaving the hero's flesh and skin back together. "This is gonna scar, but at least you'll live to see another day, hm?"

The hero scoffed weakly, still drunk on the villain's magic.

The villain swept their hands over the hero's body, feeling for more damage. "Gosh, Hero," they hummed, "you get yourself into so much trouble, do so much for this pitiful city, and for what?" They placed their hands on the hero's battered neck, soothing the inflammation. "When's the last time someone took care of you?" they asked quietly, but the question seemed more for themselves than for the hero.

Several heartbeats passed before the villain pulled away, finished with their work. The hero couldn't stop themselves from chasing their touch, nearly toppling over.

The villain caught them before they hit the ground, chuckling. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you?"

The hero felt a lump form in their throat at the thought of the villain leaving. I'm not gonna make it home. Not without Villain. They squeezed their eyes shut, swallowing their pride. "Please," they whispered. "Take me home. All I ask."

"Don't need to ask me twice." The villain swept the hero up into their arms, smirking at their indignant (and exhausted) glare. "You're not walking, sorry. You're getting all my love and special treatment today." They winked, as if they were joking.

But as the villain paced their way to the hero's apartment, and as the hero began to fall asleep in their arms, they both knew it wasn't a joke.

[whumpster-dumpster]

"I just want to go back to who I was before."

"You aren't that person anymore, not after everything that's happened. But I love you as you are now, just as much as I loved you before."

[whumpthefuck]

I love fear in Whump.

Whumpee shaking and crying when whumper enters the room. Whumpee is already making themselves as small as possible before Whumper even has a chance to do anything.

Whumper is just existing in the same room as Whumpee, and Whumpee is on the verge of tears in fear.

Whumpee so terrified of whumper that after they get rescued when they hear someone who just vaguely sounds like Whumper they break down into a panic attack. Tears streaming down their face like they're back in captivity again.

Whumpee's who flinch at fast movements and who are quick to apologize because they're so used to someone being constantly mad at them that it's reflex at this point to say they're sorry.

Whumpee who acts like a feral cat that's been brought inside for the first time when they get rescued. They stay in their room all the time, unless it's late at night, and they're sure caregiver is asleep or if caregiver leaves the house. Even then, they only leave to grab some food. Maybe Caretaker leaves food marked for Whumpee in Tupperware in the fridge, or maybe Whumpee just grabs whatever shelf stable food they can before sprinting back to their room, back to safety.

Whumpee who's so used to captivity that making their own choices, what to eat, what to do, when and how to clean, when to go to bed is so incredibly overwhelming. That they just end up lying in bed practically comatose, until Caretaker tells then what to do and how.

Whumpee that slinks around corners and exists in the shadows because even if they know caretaker is nice, and won't hurt them. They can't help their reflex to keep themselves out of view, out of the way. Quite and hidden is safe.

Whumpee having a full-blown panic attack & meltdown, the first time caretaker becomes genuinely upset at Whumpee. Whumpee is crying and hyperventilating, they can't see straight, and they can't get themselves to say anything but 'I'm sorry!' or 'Please don't hurt me!'.

[jordanstrophe]

Caretaker finds whumpee bound and gagged, unable to move and whimpering for their attention. Caretaker skids to their knees and pulls whumpee into their arms.

Whumpee, with their arms behind their back, can only press their face hard into caretaker's shoulder.

[martyr-inthedark]

Make your Whumpee tired.

Whumpees that have been deprived of sleep by Whumper, so much so that they don't remember how to walk in a straight line and can't figure out whether the recent appearance of little black bugs in their cell are real or a hallucination.

Whumpees that can't get a full night's rest. They doze off, only to be jolted awake by their own anxiety of not knowing when Whumper would come back. Perhaps they are awakened by phlegm-coated coughs induced by their illness. They are awakened by nightmares, or by Caregiver who is worried they may succumb to hypothermia, or by a thunderstorm, or the rough blanket scratching their open wounds, or so on.

Whumpees who pull all nighters to protect their friends or lovers.

Whumpees whose eyes burn when they finally can close their eyes. Whumpees whose muscles twitch, who can't stop yawning no matter how hard they try to stifle it. Whumpees with dark, glassy eyes. Whumpees who are slow to react or have a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Whumpees with throbbing headaches. Whumpees with brain fog and memory loss.

Whumpees who have been on the run and have over exhausted their bodies. Their muscles and joints continue to scream long after its over. Whumpees with extensive blood loss. Whumpees who are malnourished.

Whumpees whose survivor's guilt keeps them awake, wondering what they might have done differently, whether it was all their fault, or why they were the ones to live.

Whumpees whose bodies are in chronic pain or illness and who have to hide it, causing muscle and mental fatigue. They keep going with a smile until they collapse or pass out.

Whumpees who break down in tears, begging to be left alone so they can rest. Whumpees who sob when they are told that the bed in front of them is theirs to use whenever they want.