#nonverbal whumpee

[ssaintsofviolence]

when whumper kidnapped whumpee, they had no idea they were mute. They hadnt really planned anything. So when whumpee didn't talk, didn't scream, whumper just thought theyvhad some actually insane pain resistance. Only later do they realize that whumpee actually can't speak

[brainrotlesbian]

Something about a whumpee experiencing a speech shutdown after their rescue from whatever trauma. Maybe they were gagged for almost their entire captivity, maybe they were physically punished for speaking/saying the wrong thing, whatever.

And Caretaker can’t get them to open up about what happened, but they can see the effects (scars, injuries, changes in whumpee’s behavior), so all they can do is be there for them. Or maybe there isn’t a caretaker, and it’s just whumpee on their own having to deal with their trauma and being unable to open up about it to anyone.

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

<prev next>

Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though. Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[whump-about-it]

I’m writing a story where one of the side characters is non- verbal and it got me thinking about the angst of a recently non-verbal whumpee (either by choice or injury) trying to navigate life after escaping Whumper:

The struggle to figure out how to communicate in a way that people will understand, and the frustration trial and error brings.

The inability to explain what happened to them, or ask for help when they are hurt or scared.

The loneliness and isolation that not knowing how to communicate brings, on top of the loneliness and isolation that going through something traumatic already leaves them with.

Maybe they start missing being with Whumper. Because as horrible as it all was, they at least knew how to communicate with Whumpee.

Bonus points if Caretaker really does care, and really is trying to help Whumpee, but they've never been in this sort of situation either, and can't even begin to figure out what "help" looks like.

[oligoweee]

• some whump things I love !!

I don't really make my own whump posts but will give it a try, so here's some I've thought of that I love :)

—

1. Whumpee that can't communicate and due to the injuries caused by Whumper, they have trouble moving due to being in pain and this leads to them just kinda laying in their room alone and crying as they wait for Caretaker to come check on them and gently comfort them.

2. Caretaker wrapping an upset Whumpee in a soft blanket and carrying them to a rocking bench where the two sit down and Caretaker comforts them as they continously rock back and forth until Whumpee calms down.

3. Whumper comforting Whumpee after putting them through a round of torture, they are extremely gentle before proceeding to start hurting them again. Bonus if Whumper still comforts them in a taunting way as they're causing harm.

4. Imaginary/Ghost Caretaker that comforts Whumpee after each and every one of Whumper's outbursts and when Whumper notices that Whumpee is calm they just kinda shake their head disapprovingly and try to come up with ideas on how to break Whumpee.

5. Whumper that conditioned Whumpee to not speak at all and then proceeds to get angry when Whumpee doesn't respond to a question that they can't answer by shaking/nodding their head. Bonus if Whumpee forgot how to speak entirely and it's not just the conditioning.

—

I got inspiration for these from quite a few things so yee ‼️

[weirdstrangeandawful]

Nonverbal Whumpee screaming wordlessly. Caretaker knows something is very, very wrong but they need Whumpee to calm down enough to communicate.

It's even more heart-wrenching if Whumpee is nonverbal under stress, but because they can speak most or much of the time, that is still their main (maybe only) method of communication.

[caretaker-lee]

Consider

A whumpee who was taught to keep quiet and not make a fuss no matter what. When they get kidnapped by whumper, they instinctively try to muffle their sobs, they never scream for help, and they deal with everything as quietly as possible.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 29

I only sink deeper the deeper I think / scented candle / Troubled Past Resurfacing / "What Happened to me?"

Whumpee gave an awkward apologetic smile to Caretaker as they smelled the tenth candle in the aisle.

Caretaker smiled back, patiently letting them pick the one they wanted.

"It's okay, take your time", Caretaker replied happily.

All of the fall scents were amazing, it was hard to choose.

"This one maybe", Whumpee held it to Caretaker's nose.

Caretaker took a wiff, "yes that one smells good."

Whumpee set the candle in the basket.

They took one more off the shelf.

"One more for good measure", they held it to their nose.

Caretaker watched as Whumpee zoned out, and froze. Fear spread across Whumpee's face.

Whumpee felt as though all air had left their body. They stared at the floor, trapped in fear as dread washed over them.

Caretaker smiled weakly as someone walked past eyeing Whumpee. They quickly grabbed the candle from Whumpee and placed it back on the shelf.

Whumpee whimpered as Caretaker pulled them down to the floor. Caretaker sat down with them and cuddled them close.

"Okay Whumpee I'm right here with you", Caretaker talked slowly, "you are in a panic attack right now. We are going to ride this out together."

Caretaker slowly rocked Whumpee.

"Are you able to hear me Whumpee?"

Whumpee nodded into Caretaker's chest, their eyes had glazed over now.

"Are you able to speak, can you tell me where you are mentally right now?", Caretaker played with Whumpee's hair.

Whumpee shook their head no.

"Okay, that's okay. You went nonverbal that's all", Caretaker sighed, "okay, I'm going to start working you out of this attack, okay."

Whumpee nodded, internally pleading with Caretaker to rescue them

That smell brought them to a place they had long, purposely forgotten.

Whumpee felt Caretaker doing their best to break them out of the trauma response. Caretaker had pulled another candle off of the shelf.

"Okay Whumpee, I need you to breathe with your nose", they held the candle under their nose, "right now I am making your senses work so your brain will focus on that. If I overwhelm you, just look at me, okay."

Whumpee breathed in the candle's scent.

Caretaker put the candle to the side, and gently reached for Whumpee's hand.

"Nomph", Whumpee pulled their hand from Caretaker, and tucked it away.

"Okay", Caretaker gently rubbed Whumpee's back, "that's is okay, thankyou for letting me know."

Whumpee screamed at themself for reacting like that.

"They're trying to help you idiot", Whumpee screamed in their head, "it felt like that horrid man though", their inner monolog fought.

The candle scent came back as Caretaker gently talked to them.

Whumpee finally started to phase out if it.

"I like that scent to", Whumpee sighed, then buried their face into Caretaker's body, "I'm sorry."

Caretaker rubbed Whumpee's back, "don't apologize, panic attacks are going to happen. You did just fine."

"I'm sorry I pulled away from you, I know you were trying to help", Whumpee started to sob, "it scared me."

"It's okay, I should have told you what I was doing. You reacted just fine and told me what you need", Caretaker looked down at them.

"Do you want to talk about what happened now, or should we get our things and go home?", Caretaker smiled.

"Can we go home?", Whumpee looked up from burying their face, "is it okay if I'm nonverbal though? Talking is too much right now."

"Yes, absolutely, you don't have to ask, but thankyou for letting me know. If you need anything just point at it, or poke me", Caretaker promised.

Whumpee nodded and started to get up, and Caretaker followed.

Caretaker took a whiff of the candle that put Whumpee into the attack before putting it away. They wanted to have an idea of what the smell was.

Once home Caretaker put away everything.

"We got both of the candles you liked, should we light one?", Caretaker held them both. They had decided to grab the one they used for Whumpee as well.

Whumpee nodded with a smile, and pointed at the one they wanted.

"Okay, I'll light this one", Caretaker smiled, "let me know when you are ready to talk about what happened. Please stay nonverbal as long as you need though, we can wait."

Later that evening, Whumpee found Caretaker in the kitchen.

"Caretaker, I think I'm ready. Are you available?", Whumpee stood at the doorway, hugging a stuffie."

"Yes of course, let's go to the living room", Caretaker smiled.

"So what happened?", Caretaker watched them get settled.

"The house I use to live in, that house use to smell like that candle, at least close enough. When you asked where I was mentally, at that time I was kneeling in front of my abuser. When you grabbed my hand, it felt like they were grabbing me", Whumpee looked down, "I felt like I was there again."

Caretaker jotted a few notes down for Whumpee's care journal, including the name and brand of the candle.

"It has been a while since we've seen your past resurface", Caretaker looked up from the notes, "is there anything that we need to pay attention to, are you feeling alright."

"Right now, I feel okay, still feeling the low after the attack though", Whumpee thought for a second, "I think that's all."

"Okay, let's allow a couple days of rest for you to get back up again, and regain your energy", Caretaker wrote while talking, "if you notice anything change or you feel another attack coming on let me know."

Whumpee followed the scent of dinner a little later. They came down to the kitchen to find Caretaker getting ready to set the table.

"May I help Caretaker?", Whumpee stepped into the kitchen.

"Yes, if you are feeling up to it, that would be great", Caretaker handed them some plates.

Caretaker and Whumpee sat down to dinner.

Finally Whumpee was feeling better again.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

[whump-in-the-closet]

what are ur fav tropes for stoic whumpees? love da blog

stoic whumpee tropes that are a 100/10:

"I'm fine" and then immediately collapsing in front of their loved ones in a bleeding pile, revealing a hidden injury that has festered for far too long

silent, muffled crying with shaking shoulders and a bloody hand clamped over their mouth because they view crying as weak and beneath them and they're stronger than this, they're stronger, they can take it--

the moment they close their eyes in defeat and it's all over and they fucking know it, and when they open their eyes again all that remains is a glassy-dead stare

adamantly refusing medical treatment even when they need it. Shoving away everyone who comes close to them, a choked sound in their throat, fighting back with everything that's left in them.

when they kneel at Whumper's feet, eyes on the ground, white-lipped and tense. The only betrayal of emotion is their clenched fists and tight breathing. In every other way, they're compliant.

refusing to talk about what they endured at Whumper's hands after they're rescued, but the scars tell the story for them. They don't have to say a word, but their team's pitying gaze follows them wherever they go

normally unaffectionate and distant but exhausted and defeated they rest their head on Caretaker's shoulder or Whumper's lap, just finally admitting--nonverbally-- that they can't take it

reversely, more willing to be tortured than to ask for help-- If I'm breathing, I'm fine

stitching their own wounds back up with an unsteady hand, painful stitch after painful stitch. Deep breath and pull. Working in a dimly lit apartment with bleeding clothes on the floor around them and the bed unmade

sacrificing themself for their team. "Take me! Do what you want to me. Not them." And their team watching as the torture takes its slow toll and Whumpee-- the one they look up-- falls apart.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

🤍 Subtle Signs of a Caretaking Dynamic 🤍

Caretaker stepping in front of whumpee instinctively when there's gunfire/a loud noise/etc.

Whumpee looking towards Caretaker instinctively when faced with danger or a difficult question.

Caretaker carrying whumpee's belongings for them or opening doors for them. Generally making tasks easier for whumpee.

Caretaker knows things about whumpee's recovery or medical situation off the top of their head, without even having to think about it.

Or Caretaker gets defensive when asked about whumpee. "Why do you want to know? What do you want with them?"

Whumpee leaning against Caretaker's shoulder when they're next to each other.

Caretaker lightly brushing a hand against whumpee's hand in a gesture of comfort. Or whumpee initiates that, and Caretaker picks up on a hint and holds their hand.

If the relationship is fated or somehow bound, there may be markers of a unique bond, such as tattoos, bite marks, etc.

Their tone of voice changing completely as soon as they start talking to each other. Maybe they're shy with everyone else but joke with each other. Or maybe they act cheerful with everyone else, but turn serious as soon as they can talk to the one other person who knows what's really going on.

Nonverbally checking if whumpee is okay with meaningful glances across a room or "thumbs-up versus thumbs-down" gestures.

Caretaker immediately noticing when something is wrong for whumpee and getting visibly stressed.

[3-2-whump]

Mini-Comfortember Day 9

Prompt 9: Home(wards)

And so concludes @azertyrobaz's mini-comfortember! Thank you so much for having this event, I enjoyed writing/drawing/creating for it so much!

This story is inspired by this art work, which took place after this chapter.

TW/CW: medical whump, aftermath of a surgery (tonsillectomy), slave whump, intimate whumper, (temporarily) nonverbal whumpee

“Awww, my sweet boy, did you miss me?” Thomas asked.

He knew Khaled might not respond, with his throat still healing a mere twelve hours after surgery. However, the way the boy pressed up into him and buried his face into the crook of his neck communicated the exact answer he was hoping for. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replied smugly.

He enjoyed the clinginess for another minute or so, then carefully broke the embrace to pass his slave a backpack. “It’s a spare change of clothes -some of your more comfortable ones- and a cup of applesauce,” he explained. His dear boy was still shirtless, with nothing but the red sarong on his waist and golden chains on his body. And he knew he hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. “I figured you’d probably want out of that, and to eat something besides whatever intravenous crap Lenore’s been feeding you.”

Khaled took the backpack and unzipped it to inspect its contents. A t-shirt, a pair of yoga pants, clean boxer briefs, socks, sneakers, and a cup of applesauce (sans spoon to eat it with) –it was all there. The boy smiled, then looked up to his master with gratitude written all over his expression. “Thank y-”

Thomas raised a hand. “Stop. Stop talking. Stop, you sound terrible.” Khaled shut his mouth and hung his head self-consciously, rummaging through the backpack and taking out each item one by one to lay on his hospital bed. Thomas sighed. He only said that so as not to aggravate the healing process; the sooner Khaled’s throat healed, the sooner they could resume their usual activities, but until then? “Don’t talk any more than necessary, and finish getting changed while I get you discharged,” he told him. Khaled had already slipped out of the jewelry and was tugging on the t-shirt when he left him to check out.

A desk was positioned outside of the winding corridors and near the front of the entrance they passed through late last night. Another woman, dark-skinned with limp wavy hair, sat at the desk, staring dead-eyed at the computer as she input data and intermittently slurped a liquid from a straw in a tumbler. The austere-looking collar around her throat marked her as another one of the doctor’s …assistants... Unlike the last one though, this ‘assistant’ didn’t have a scar over where her vocal chords would be.

The printer whirred to life behind her as it output page after page of discharge paperwork. The woman swiveled around in her desk chair and retrieved it, as well as a bottle of mystery pills she conjured up from below the desk. “Read this, sign this, pay here, and make him take these,” she recited lifelessly. She took another loud slurp of the mystery beverage.

Thomas skimmed the paperwork, signed and dated where he needed to, and only groaned a little when he slid the payment across the desk. A visit to Lenore was going to be expensive, he’d prepared for and accepted that fact, but it still hurt to fork over so much money, even if it was for a good cause.

Speaking of which, that good cause came hesitantly walking out to the front desk area, fully changed now, with the backpack slung over one shoulder. Thomas quickly forgot how much money he’d just dropped. What mattered was that Khaled would get better, and that he wouldn’t have to go another night without him. “Come on, boy,” he beckoned. The slave came to his side quickly, letting himself be led out of the clinic doors. “Let’s go home.”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling

[justlikeotherchemists]

Okay, but like, defiant whumpees that are gagged, so they have to air their frustration nonverbally Whumper: "Stop rolling your eyes, or I'll scratch them out!" "Hey! No grunting, unless you're in pain." "Was that a sigh? Am I boring you that much?"

[defire]

Breaking a stoic whumpee

They might do as ordered when threatened, but they're not going to pretend to like it

Whumper may simply dish out cruelty after cruelty without giving a reason, to break down whumpee's walls

Stoic whumpee demanding "what do you want?!" After so much of this they feel like they're breaking

Eventually asking, begging to know what whumper wants, anything to stop the endless torture

And maybe whumper just wants to make them scream. Maybe it's more fun to force someone to scream when you know they're doing everything they can NOT to

Freeze response turning into fawn. "Please. Master, sir, whatever you want me to call you, I'll do whatever you want, HOWEVER you want. Just please..."

If a stoic whumpee gets rescued, maybe they'd go completely nonverbal for a while because that was how they were just before they broke

Maybe they keep fawning to caretaker, believing that they have to if they want any mercy

Never, EVER talking about it

[weirdstrangeandawful]

A gently runs their hands over B's now-frail body, checking for injuries that B might not be able to express. B’s eyes wander blankly into the distance and he remains silent and limp. Overcome with grief, A stops for a minute and places a long, tender kiss on B’s forehead. Their fingers wander down to B’s hand.

The moment they pick it up, it flails away reflexively and a breath – a silent cry of discomfort if not pain – escapes B’s lips.

“Does it hurt, hon?” A searches B’s eyes for any response. Receiving nothing, they run their hand gently along B’s arm and hand, wincing as they scan B’s eyes for pain.

[unhonest-iago]

whumpee who's been trained to be a weapon, essentially whumper's second in command meant to keep all their underlings in line. but whumper's extremely lenient and whumpee's been conditioned to ask them for permission before beating someone to a pulp. over the years, having bulked up in muscle. those who knew whumpee in the past would probably be disoriented at how cold and callous they were now.

how the air around them was now suffocating, a string held taut. whumpee's just itching for a fight to the point they daydream over it. salivate over it. their muscle strewn in knots from the anticipation of the nonverbal signal whumper will give them. their eyes in a constant thousand yard stare. unbeknown to whumpee, whumper had their sights on a specific target for them to sink their teeth into; caretaker. the only person who was able to dislodge whumpee from their grasp.

there was a time span lasting a month where caretaker was able to pluck whumpee from their grasp. it would be the perfect test to see if whumpee's undying loyalty was true or not. they end up passing with flying colors. caretaker is strewn across the linoleum in a pool of blood, barely breathing. whumpee hadn't recognized them or their pleas for them to stop.

[a-living-canvas]

CW : Nonverbal Whumpee

Decay

"Behave yourself, Whumpee."

Whumper said before leaving Whumpee alone with his henchman. Whumpee just nodded, looking at Henchman with hopeful eyes. Wishing that he wouldn't treat them like Whumper did.

"What is it, little one?"

Henchman asked, chuckling softly as he ruffled Whumpee's hair. Whumpee just smiled, feeling a bit better with him. Maybe if they were being really nice to Henchman, he would help them get away from Whumper? Whumpee could tell they were a nice person. 

Henchman crouched down in front of them, tugging their lips opened with his thumb. He shook his head in sympathy. "He really did cut your tongue, huh?"

Whumpee nodded, watching Henchman stand up straight again. "Poor kiddo. Do you want to eat? Or do you want to take a nap?"

Whumpee reached for their pen and paper, scribbling down their answer. 

I have eaten with my Master earlier. He never let me take a nap, though.

Henchman chuckled. "Don't worry, kiddo. You can take a nap as long as you want." 

Whumpee beamed up as they followed Henchman to Whumper's bedroom. He tucked them in and ruffled their hair for the last time before walking out of the room. Whumpee curled up in the blanket as their eyes drooping low, drifting them off to their slumber.

~

"Whumpee, little one, wake up…"

Henchman gently shook Whumpee's shoulder, watching as they stirred up from their sleep. Whumpee looked at Henchman in confusion but before they could say anything, Henchman pulled the blanket off of them, signalling them to get up.

Whumpee just obeyed, still in their drowsy state as they rubbed their sleepy eyes. Henchman brought them to the one corner in the house, where they could see Whumper's ceramic vase. Specifically a gift from his mother.

Henchman pushed Whumpee's forward, looking at them with a stern expression. "Break the vase."

He ordered and Whumpee could feel blood drained from their faces. They quickly shook their heads, not wanting to be punished by Whumper.

Henchman crossed his arms. "Do it, now."

Whumpee backed away, making Henchman got furious as he pushed them again roughly and took their hands from behind. He guided their fingers to grab the vase and Whumpee instantly let out incoherent mumbles with their desperate voice. 

Henchman squeezed their hands tightly. "Stop saying nonsense and break the vase!"

Whumpee shook their heads repeatedly, tears were streaming down their faces. When they finally grabbed the vase, Henchman pulled them to step back a little, positioning the vase to be directly above the floor. Henchman gripped their shoulders, not allowing them to move.

"Let it go."

He ordered. Whumpee was doing their best to hold the vase, to prevent it from falling. But they were sweating bullets, their palms felt slippery against the ceramic surface.

Please don't let me do this, please don't let me do this, please don't let me do this

They couldn't do it anymore. The vase finally slipping away from their hands and crashed to the floor in a thousand pieces. Whumpee's sobbing got louder. They were so afraid of what would happen if Whumper found out.

Henchman was just smirking down at them. He leaned in closer and reassured them in mock-sympathy.

"Aww, look at what you've done. Whumper would be sooo mad at you…!"

Henchman laughed loudly, leaving Whumpee alone as they stared at the remaining pieces of the vase.

~

Whumpee wrote down their apology letter to Whumper, telling him that Henchman was the one who forced them to break the vase. They hoped Whumper would understand and believe them. They just needed to greet Whumper first before Henchman did. They would make sure Henchman got what he deserved.

As they were busy with their letter, Henchman put down a glass of milk on the table. A look of betrayal was clear on Whumpee's face as they looked up at Henchman.

But Henchman just feigned innocence, pushing the milk towards them. "Drink it. You must be thirsty after all that crying." He chuckled.

Whumpee pondered for a moment. They did feel thirsty, and it's been such a long time since Whumper gave them sweet drinks. Whumpee wrapped their fingers around the glass and slowly lifting it up to drink the milk. Henchman left the room and Whumpee continued doing their work. 

They kept writing and writing until they suddenly yawned, feeling awfully sleepy. They tried rubbing their eyes but they just kept nodding off on their seats. 

Whumpee rested their heads on the table, closing their eyes to sleep for a few minutes.

~

Whumpee jolted awake as they heard a sound of the door being slammed. They saw Whumper on the doorway, eyes full with rage glaring down at them. Whumpee's eyes widened, scared of seeing Whumper like that when they saw Henchman stood behind him, smiling devilishly.

Oh no, he did not—

Whumpee panicked, searching for their apology letter when suddenly Whumper grabbed a fistful of their hair, rising them to stand on their feet. With gritted teeth, Whumper spat out. "Henchman told me everything."

Whumpee could hear the sound of their heart beating so loudly to the point it hurts. To the point everything was hurting so much they barely could function anymore.

They tried to speak, desperately trying even though it came out as whimpers and whines. Whumper sighed in frustration, dragging them by their hair as their body slid across the floor to the basement.

"I told you again and again, don't touch that vase!"

Whumper unlocked the basement door, throwing Whumpee in and walked slowly towards them who immediately scurried away to the wall. He narrowed his eyes at them before grabbing one of his tools. "Give me those naughty hands."

Whumpee's eyes widened and they immediately hid their hands behind their back. Their fingers trembling and they silently pleading that Whumper would have some mercy on them.

Whumper frowned, taking a step closer that made Whumpee flinched. "If you don't obey, I will cut off your legs too."

Whumpee got more scared and panicked hearing that. They held out their hands slowly and hesitantly to Whumper. Whumper sighed softly, rubbing their tears with his thumbs.

"This will teach you a lesson."

~

Part 2

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees