#whumpee is all relieved and caretaker is like

[spookyboywhump]

Thinking about a caretaker who kind of just got thrown into the role and knows they aren’t the perfect person for it but they’re trying anyway. They want whumpee to understand they have a right to make their own decisions and voice their own opinions but for the most part whumpee has just been doing what they ask them to without question and it bothers them immensely but has yet to change no matter how many times they try to explain they don’t have to obey them. Until one day they ask the whumpee to do smth simple, grab smth from the next room or if they’re okay with waiting an extra hour for dinner or just smth like that and whumpee says “no”. And at first they’re like what. What did you say to me? Which freaks whumpee out and they get nervous but they tell them again, they said no. And caretaker is fucking THRILLED. Whumpee repeats themself and caretaker is like “oh FUCK YEAH. I’m so proud of you. Do that whenever you want. Fantastic job.”

[whumpy-bi]

Rescuers/medics bringing in a more “emotionally aware” member of their crew to talk to a recently rescued Whumpee, who has spent the past few days lashing out and refusing any treatment.

They’re crouched behind their bed when Caretaker walks in, wide eyes watching them intently. They know Caretaker can see them—the bed is giving them a sense of security, Caretaker figures, a barrier between them and anyone else.

Caretaker keeps their voice soft, but loud enough that Whumpee can hear them. “Hey,” they start.

“You’re Whumpee, right?” They only nod to themself, knowing the answer. “I’m Caretaker…” They notice the apprehension in Whumpee’s stare.

“I’m not a medic, don’t worry. I just want to talk to you, would that be okay?”

Whumpee finally nods. Good, an acknowledgment.

Caretaker slowly lowers themselves to their knees, stopping at eye level with Whumpee. Notably, they hadn’t attempted to come any closer, nor attempted to move Whumpee from behind the bed.

“I heard you were a little upset this morning. Is that true?”

Finally, a verbal response.

“Yeah.”

“I heard you got pretty angry, with the medic. That true, too?”

“…Am I in trouble?”

Caretaker shakes their head, resting their hands on their knees. “No, not at all. I just want to understand what happened. Do you know why you were angry?”

“…No. I just didn’t want them near me.”

They hummed in thought. “Well…I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to sleep since we brought you here.”

Whumpee was silent, but frowned.

“I know I always feel pretty crappy when I can’t sleep. I get angrier than I mean to. Do you think maybe that’s why?”

“…Maybe.”

“Well, that’s alright. I can help you figure out how to get some sleep, we can talk about that too. But do you remember specifically why you lashed out at the medic today? What did—“

“He grabbed me. I don’t want people to grab me. He wouldn’t stop grabbing me.”

Caretaker nodded again, shifting their jaw as they listened. “That makes sense. I probably wouldn’t like that, either. What if he asked to touch you, before he did?”

Whumpee was silent again, but they quirked their head to the side. Considering.

“I’m sure we can all do that, asking to do things. We can tell you what we’re doing, before we do it. So you know how we’re helping you. Would that help? I think that’d be a lot less frustrating.”

Whumpee mumbled, now. They’d come closer to the other side of the bed.

“Maybe, yeah.”

Caretaker smiled warmly. “That’s good, I can tell them that. Now…I wanna help you get some sleep. I think that’ll help you feel a lot better, too.”

They watch Whumpee quietly as they climb back onto the bed, careful not to move too quickly themselves.

“Is it hard to sleep in here?”

No answer again. Caretaker glances over to the window.

“It’s pretty bright outside, isn’t it? Even with the parking lot lights at night. I can get some heavier curtains, if you’d—“

“It’s hot.” Whumpee’s voice is barely there, a hushed mumble.

Caretaker’s eyebrows raise, their expression a relieved smile. This was good.

“Yeah? I can’t sleep if it’s too warm, either. Here, I can…” They very slowly rise to stand, keeping eye contact with Whumpee as they do so. “I can lower the temperature, that’ll help a lot. I’ll just make it a little cooler in here…I can make sure you have water at night, too. Nice cold water.”

Whumpee watches them closely as they adjust the temperature, less apprehensive than before.

Caretaker suppresses a chuckle at Whumpee’s expression. “You look pretty tired, Whumpee. You wanna try sleeping again?”

“…Maybe.”

They let Caretaker help adjust them into a sleeping position, leaving the blanket by their ankles for now. As Caretaker goes for the light switch, Whumpee calls out one more time.

“Will you come back?”

“Sure I will, Whumpee. I’ll check on you a lot, you can ask for me whenever you want. Why?”

“I…liked talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you, too, Whumpee.”

Whumpee’s prolonged nap that day was the best sleep they’d had in months.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Post non-con recovery scene ideas with caretaker and whumpee?

tw: r*pe aftermaths, sa, ptsd, ed

whumpee flinched at every physical contact, no matter how light or gentle (no matter if it was nonsexual or if it came from caretaker or a doctor or a nurse), because their mind had associated all kinds of physical contact with the time they were assaulted now. 

caretaker wanted to hug them, but they understood whumpee’s struggle and remained their distance for the sake of whumpee’s wounds (both mental and physical). 

whumpee knew caretaker wasn���t going to hurt them, they just couldn’t help being terrified by any physical contact now.

though it became an issue when whumpee had to be examined by doctors and nurses. it pained caretaker to have to hold whumpee down and keep whumpee still when the medical procedure was being performed on them to make sure whumpee was healing properly, and whumpee cried and whimpered and just tried to get away because so many hands were touching them and all they could think of was their assaulters forcing themselves on them.

when the procedure was done, caretaker let go of whumpee (despite their wanting to keep holding and comforting whumpee) and whumpee leaped out of their arms to go hide somewhere they believed would shield them from… anything, sometimes they went and hid behind a drawer, hugging themself with their knees against their chest, sometimes they went and hid underneath the bed and wouldn’t come out for hours.

whumpee refused to make eye contact with anyone, including caretaker.

at night whumpee couldn’t sleep alone, so caretaker took the couch in the room with them and kept the nightstand lamp on throughout the night. (sleeping in the same bed with whumpee was still too much, and caretaker understood that.)

loss of appetite. caretaker never wanted to have to force whumpee to eat, but when it’d been a while since the last time whumpee ate anything and they were putting their health at risk, caretaker had no choice but to make sure whumpee ate. (caretaker was still being gentle, of course, but for whumpee’s health, they couldn’t let whumpee leave the table until whumpee finished at least half of the food on their plate.)

whumpee’s obedience both relieved and angered caretaker, because whumpee was never this “docile” prior to their assault. now whumpee wouldn’t talk back or argue and would do anything they were told to do (like whumpee was afraid they would get punished if they disobeyed). sure, whumpee was eating now. because caretaker told them to. and while it was for whumpee’s own good and it was a good thing that whumpee ate, whumpee’s complete obedience still disturbed caretaker. 

it angered caretaker, yes, but caretaker wasn’t angry with whumpee. they were angry with whumpee’s assaulters, and they had to make sure their anger was well hidden so that whumpee couldn’t see it and think caretaker was angry at them.

besides the trauma, whumpee believed they were being a burden, that they were holding caretaker and everybody else down by being so “difficult” and they blamed themself for it. they also believed they didn’t deserve caretaker’s kindness. thus caretaker sat down with whumpee and patiently explained why whumpee could never be a burden and why caretaker was glad to have whumpee here with them now. whumpee… knew that, deep down, but caretaker’s reassurance didn’t necessarily mean whumpee’s own mind would magically stop feeding them poison just because caretaker said nice things to them, did it? — caretaker only said this because they had to, because they pitied you, said the voices in whumpee’s head, but whumpee told caretaker they believed them nonetheless, because they obviously wasn’t going to start an argument with caretaker, or with anybody, for that matter.

the first time whumpee willingly let caretaker hug them, they hesitantly and carefully crawled onto caretaker’s lap. It was a rather impressive progress and caretaker knew that, they also knew to be very gentle and mindful as to not do anything that could overwhelm or trigger whumpee’s trauma. 

only when caretaker was certain whumpee was okay with this did they softly wrap their arms around whumpee’s back as whumpee rested their head on caretaker’s chest, curling in on themself on caretaker’s lap.

still on caretaker's lap, whumpee finally looked up to meet caretaker's eyes and gave them a soft smile. it was a sad smile, and it was barely noticeable. but it was a smile nonetheless.

caretaker really thought they would never get to see whumpee's smile again.

[ashdoeswhump]

Tws: dehumanisation, conditioning, abuse, intimate whumper, pet whump, basically just all the whumpy stuff that comes with pet whump and nonhuman whumpees

Animalistic and nonhuman whumpees hit just right.

Nonhuman whumpee with claws and fangs and wings and horns and fur. Does whumper tear these off? Use them to pin whumpee down? Slide a knife along them, not hard enough to pierce, but enough to draw blood, enough to hurt? Put them on display for their friends? Does caretaker know how to look after their nonhuman traits? Are they gentle, so gentle, with them? Do these things get in caretaker's way so they keep accidentally knocking it? Does caretaker preen whumpee's wings, polish their horns, trim their claws when they're too weak to do it themselves?

Werewolf whumpee who looks perfectly human most of the time, but who are constantly punished for the one night they don't. Does whumper keep them on a chain? Treat them like a dog? Make them sleep outside and eat out of a bowl without their hands? Keep them surrounded by silver at all times? How does caretaker deal with it? Do they find a way to keep whumpee calm during full moons? Are they forced to keep whumpee locked up every month for everyone's safety, whumpee's included? Do they give whumpee a blanket and a hug and some hot chocolate afterwards?

Avian whumpee who struggles with speech but can make other noises just fine. Do they squawk when whumper hurts them? Does whumper force them to sing? Feed them nothing but seeds and nuts? Keep them locked in a hanging cage? Keep them outside but chained down so they can't fly away? Does caretaker build them a nest out of blankets and pillows? Let them out whenever they want? Encourage them to fly, only for them to fall back to the ground and hurt themself because they haven't flown in so long? Bandage and heal their battered and broken wings?

What about whumpees who aren't nonhuman, but have had their humanity stripped away?

Guard dog whumpee forced to stay outside. Does whumper make them pace around the perimeter of their property all day and night without breaks? Punish them when they pause for even a second? Only let them sleep once or twice a week because when they're asleep, the place is undefended? Does caretaker have to train this out of them because the only way to remove this conditioning is more conditioning? Do they help whumpee rest? Are they so, so relieved when whumpee goes to sleep by themself for the first time?

Lapdog whumpee who's made to cuddle with whumper. Does whumper make them sleep in their bed? Have them curl up on their lap while watching TV or reading a book? Comfort them after or during punishment? Does caretaker have to learn what sorts of touch whumpee can and can't endure? Do they have to sedate whumpee anytime they need to carry them somewhere because they're too weak to walk by themself but starts shoving any time they're touched? Is it an upwards battle, getting whumpee to associate touch with genuine care? Or is whumpee so relieved to be out, or so conditioned, that they'd do anything caretaker asks without question or complaint? How long does it take caretaker to realise this isn't them healing, but the conditioning going on?

Living weapon whumpee who isn't allowed thoughts or morals, only obedience? Does whumper force them to kill people they know during training? Keep them muzzled and hooded to hide their identity? Punish them when their face shows what they're thinking or feeling? Is caretaker afraid or horrified or disgusted of them at first? Do they have to teach whumpee that they're a person and that they're their own person? Do they have to keep weapons away from them because whumpee will think caretaker wants them to kill someone?

What noises do they make? Do they hiss or snarl when they're scared? Let out a barking yelp or a squawk when they're hurt? Whimper or whine when they're nervous? Purr when they're happy? How much of this is taught and conditioned into them, and how much is natural? Are they afraid of making human noises, or do they wish more than anything that they could speak?

There's just so many possibilities with this trope, I love it.

[whump-softie]

Whumpee’s running to exhaustion.

Escaping through the woods, tripping on everything and anything their bare feet touch. Their loud, shaky breaths are the only noise beside the occasional gunshot from behind them. They were being hunted. They couldn’t give up. They’d force their body to shreds, to keep running, if it meant escaping what was behind them.

Running tirelessly behind Whumper on their daily training sessions. Whumper is by far the superior being, and can effortlessly do, well, pretty much anything. Whumpee stumbles and hobbles behind them, dumped in sweat. Whumper is disappointed, but what are they to do? Whumpee is inferior in every way, after all.

Whumpee desperately searching through the house for a missing “safety thing.” Their favorite blanket, favorite twig, favorite speck of dust… it doesn’t matter. This is their thing, and it’s missing. There is nothing more important than finding it. Running and slamming open every door, fearless of the punishment awaiting them, Whumpee will stop at nothing.

Running towards safety. Into the arms of Caretaker. Breaking down into sobs, out of breath but so relieved they can hardly breathe anyways. Collapsing to their knees after what felt like an eternity of running, hiding, scavenging… and they finally made it. They’re safe. They’re home. 🫰

[nat-1-whump]

Whumpee was a capable magic user, having cultivated that skill their whole life. So, naturally, they took liberty in exercising it every change they got. From teleporting rather than traveling, to using telekinesis to carry heavy things, to using illusion spells to pull lighthearted tricks... it was a wonder they ever had any energy left to cast more spells at all.

However, they were injured and had to be hospitalized. The doctors put them on magic suppressants, warning them that using magic could be unpredictable, or even dangerous, in their vulnerable condition. It was safest to take their powers away for the time being.

Whumpee did not take this news well.

One evening, Caretaker went to visit Whumpee. Whumpee had seemed particularly upset with their loss of magic last time Caretaker visited, so this time, they brought them a stuffed animal. Hopefully it would comfort them, at least a little bit, as they recovered.

They expected to find Whumpee frustratedly picking at their bandages, or in a restless sleep, as usual. But when they opened the door, they found Whumpee knelt down on the floor, sobbing over a shattered mug.

Caretaker hurried to set the plushie on the bed. They crouched down next to Whumpee, and put a hand on their shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. I'll help you clean it up, and we can get you a new mug, okay?"

Whumpee sniffled. "I-I can't even fix a stupid cup..." They cried.

Caretaker instinctively glanced towards Whumpee's hands, worried that they'd cut themself trying to pick up the pieces. They were initially relieved to see that Whumpee hadn't, until they realized that Whumpee must have tried---and failed---to use a mending spell instead. That must be why they were crying now. "...Fix it? Whumpee, no... You can't. Not right now. Look, I'll go get a broom to clean up the pieces, and-"

"No, I want to do this..." Whumpee looked up at Caretaker, their eyes reddened and tearful.

"Whumpee, you can't, remember? They-the doctors, they put you on magic suppressants until you get better." Caretaker wasn't a magic user themself, so they wondered what it was like to lose magic powers after using them for so long. They figured it probably threw poor Whumpee's system all out of whack.

Whumpee considered for a moment. They looked at the broken mug, then back at Caretaker. "Wait, I think... I think I can force a tiny bit, just a little..."

"What do you mean, 'force?' Whumpee, I really don't think that's a good idea." Caretaker tried to take Whumpee's hands in their own, but Whumpee pulled away, focused on the broken mug.

Whumpee picked up a few pieces. They ignored Caretaker's protests and closed their eyes, chanting a mending spell under their breath. Their brow furrowed, as they seemed to strengthen their resolve to cast the spell.

To Caretaker's disbelief, a faint light began to flicker from Whumpee's palms, the glow peeking out from under the ceramic shards. A couple of pieces began to shudder, clinking as they seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Suddenly, the pieces went still. They clattered to the floor as Whumpee's arms fell limp. Like a reflex, Caretaker grabbed Whumpee and pulled them into an embrace before they could collapse into the pile of sharp pieces. The ceramic shards glittered in the light from the window, as if to taunt them.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker felt a warm trickle against their chest, and gently turned Whumpee's head up to see a stream of blood coming from their nose. They shakily pulled Whumpee up and took them back to their hospital bed, struggling to carry their limp body. After draping Whumpee over the blankets, they found a paper towel and began to clean the blood off their face.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered open as Caretaker wiped their bloody nose. "D-did I do it?" Their voice sounded distant and groggy.

Caretaker's heart broke. Whumpee sounded so hopeful. "No, Whumpee. Your cup's still broken. But you have to rest, okay?" They instinctively put a hand on Whumpee's chest to push them down, fully expecting Whumpee to try to pull themself out of bed.

Instead, Whumpee only stared up at them, defeated. Caretaker noticed the dark circles under Whumpee's eyes and was about to ask when they last slept, when Whumpee's gaze wandered past Caretaker to the floor.

Caretaker followed their eyes to where the fragments of ceramic seemed to glow in the fading sunlight. They felt they should leave Whumpee's side to clean it up, but now, such an action felt too... final. They figured it would only make Whumpee feel worse, watching the pieces they tried so hard to fix get swept up and dumped in the trash.

A sniffle from Whumpee pulled Caretaker back to the moment. They looked down to see Whumpee's eyes well up with tears. Wordlessly, they squeezed Whumpee's hand.

Whumpee pulled their hand away and curled themself up on the bed, hiding their face behind their knees. Their sniffling turned to full-on sobbing.

Caretaker gently stroked Whumpee's hair, trying to find the right words. "Whumpee... You need to rest. Nobody is expecting you to start casting spells again so soon. Not after all that happened."

Whumpee peeked over their knees. "It hurts. It feels like they took something out of me and it messed everything up."

"I know... But you'll feel better once you sleep, yeah? And the more you rest, the sooner you'll be recovered enough to handle your magic again." Caretaker pulled the blankets up to Whumpee's shoulder and handed them the plush toy they'd brought earlier.

Whumpee moved their legs away from their chest, exposing their face as they clutched the stuffed animal. Their momentary comfort gave way to worry. "What if I forget how to use magic while I'm in here, though? W-what if I'm never able to use magic again?" Their lip started to quiver.

Caretaker gave Whumpee a warm smile, though their eyes held a look of pity. "I'm not sure, Whumpee. I don't know a whole lot about magic... How it works, what it takes to learn it." They patted Whumpee's shoulder. "But whatever happens, I'll stay by your side every step of the way. I'll promise you that much."

A small smile formed on Whumpee's face. Though they still seemed worried, Caretaker's reassurance calmed their nerves somewhat. They closed their eyes, squeezing the stuffed animal against their chest.

The two rested quietly in the hospital room, the shadows stretching higher up the wall until the orange sunset outside had darkened to a rich purple. Once Whumpee dozed off, Caretaker swept up the broken pieces. They sat down next to Whumpee again and gently placed a hand on their cheek.

Whumpee mumbled contentedly. For the first time in a while, their sleep seemed... peaceful.

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

Love love love fake-outs in whump because there's just so many angst potentials ranging from "oh no :(" to "oh my fucking god"

Whumpee finally managing to escape, running as fast as their legs will carry them right into the arms of Caretaker who tearfully tells them they'll never lose them again...only to wake up and realize it had been a delirious dream from blood loss

Someone coming across Whumpee who begs them for help, pleading for rescue, and this poor stranger is so startled and hurriedly assures Whumpee that everything will be okay, they won't let anything happen to them, they'll call the police and...haha, sorry, couldn't keep a straight face any longer. Whumper, did you get all that? Send me a picture of that face, it's too priceless.

Caretaker has finally found Whumpee after so long and are working on getting the shackles off, whispering soft praises and promises that everything is all over now, there's nothing to be afraid of because Whumper is...well, they thought Whumper was dead, but apparently they had just enough strength to come up behind Caretaker and slit their throat

Whumpee has been rescued from their hell, picked up by a kind stranger who's none to happy to hear about Whumper's antics, but don't worry, Whumpee will never have to experience that kind of torment again...because what their new captor has in store for them is much, much worse than the child's play that had been described

Whumpee is dragged away kicking and screaming from their beloved Caretaker, begging for Whumper to show them mercy and that they don't deserve such cruel treatment, promising to be good if they only let Caretaker go...but Whumpee, what are you talking about? Caretaker is the real Whumper, don't you remember? When they kidnapped you so long ago? What did they do to your mind?

Caretaker is just so relieved to have Whumpee back by their side again, their wounds carefully treated and cuddled up close, refusing to part from Caretaker ever again after being rescued...everything went according to Caretaker's plan, now that Whumpee's had a taste of what life would be like if they tried to leave, they'll never want to let Whumper go. I mean, Caretaker.

[serickswrites]

Crunch

This little drabble is brought to you by the request of the lovely @lurkingwhump

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, torture, restraints, broken bones, blood, rescue, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee froze as they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. They whirled around, ready for a fight. "You're so predictable," they said as they tensed.

"And yet you're still here alone. If I'm so predictable, why would you leave yourself vulnerable like this, hmmm?" Whumper sneered as they charged forward.

Whumpee was ready for Whumper. They lashed out at Whumper, but Whumper was faster. Whumpee cried out as Whumper punched them twice in the ribs, hard. Whumpee leaned over to protect their middle, and Whumper used that opportunity to punch their nose.

Whumpee's head rocked back and they stumbled as they felt the bone crunch beneath Whumper's fist. "Fuck you," Whumpee hissed through the pain. They just needed to hold out until Caretaker got here. The truth was they weren't trying to be alone, but Caretaker had gotten delayed.

Whumper was relentless as they grabbed Whumpee's wrists and pinned them behind Whumpee's back. "No thanks," Whumper said as they twisted Whumpee's arm until Whumpee cried out. Whumpee grunted as Whumper kicked the back of their knees, forcing Whumpee to the ground.

Whumper quickly pinned Whumpee and began to cuff Whumpee's wrists. Whumpee knew that if Whumper got them to the car, Caretaker would never find them. Whumpee did the only thing they could think of: they threw their head back with all the force they could muster. Whumpee smirked as they heard Whumper's nose crunch beneath their head.

"You've really done it now," Whumper growled as they released their grip on Whumpee's cuffed arms.

Whumpee opened their mouth to reply, but Whumper silenced them with a kick to the ribs. Whumpee's ribs were already painfully bruised, but Whumper kicked with everything they had. Whumpee screamed as they felt the bone crunch.

Whumper didn't stop. "You. Are. Useless. Piece. Of. Shit. I'll. Teach. You." Each angry word was punctuated by a kick.

Whumpee was too breathless to scream. They could only groan. They couldn't get enough air to breathe properly. This wasn't good. Whumper didn't need to get them to the car. Caretaker was going to be too late.

Whumper stopped kicking. Whumpee would have been relieved if they could get enough air. They coughed, choking as blood spilled from their lips.

"Looks like I've done what I wanted to do here," Whumper snickered.

Whumpee couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe deeply. And they couldn't clear the blood from the back of their throat. This was not good. Caretaker was going to be too late.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker called.

Whumpee couldn't even breathe enough to moan any longer. It was too late for them. Their heart twinged with sadness as they realized Caretaker was going to hold them as they died. They weren't sad to go in Caretaker's arms, but they were sad that Caretaker was going to find them like this.

"OH NO!" Caretaker dropped to their knees beside Whumpee. They pulled Whumpee to them. "No. NO. NONONONONONO!"

Whumpee flopped limply in Caretaker's arms. They couldn't breathe. They were drowning. Everything was on fire. Their world narrowed to Caretaker's face, only inches from their own. Their mouth opened and closed as they gasped for air.

"Please, please, Whumpee. Please. Just hold on. I'm getting you help, hold on, please!"

Whumpee was barely aware as Caretaker lifted them. Barely breathing as Caretaker carefully deposited them in the back of the car. And as their eyes fluttered closed, breath going out in a shallow sigh, they realized dying in Caretaker's car wasn't so terrible after all.

***

"That was so incredibly reckless, Whumpee. You can't ever EVER do that again," Caretaker said a week later as they sat next to Whumpee's hospital bed.

"I know," Whumpee wheezed. They were alive. They were alive and healing. Caretaker had made it in time, but only just.

"I mean it. I can't ever go through that again, Whumpee. You're not allowed to die."

Whumpee reached for Caretaker's hand, hissing with pain as it pulled on their still broken ribs. "I'm sorry."

Caretaker bridged the gap and grabbed Whumpee's fingers. "I'm really glad you're still alive, love."

"Me, too. Me, too."

[whumpshaped]

NAH CAUSE YOUR RECENT ‘caretaker becomes whumper’ ask abt the drugs has me inspired

what if a former mind controlled whumpee comes back and “”caretaker”” can’t help themselves. they tell themself that it’s for whumpee’s own good—ordering them to shower or take their medication when they don’t want to. but it so so tempting to see how far they could push it. they begin fantasizing about whumpee being a pet to them and how they had the power to make it happen.

tw bad caretaker, conditioning, conditioned whumpee, manipulation

Anyone would’ve had the same thoughts, right? Ever since Whumpee had come back, ever since Caretaker had realised just how fragile they had become… it was impossible not to think about it.

It’d be so easy to push them. Force them back into old habits.

The temptation was unbearable whenever Whumpee was being difficult. Caretaker couldn’t help it; they used the commanding tone, they used the trigger words, they used all of it. So long as it got the job done, was it really that bad? They’d stop when Whumpee’s injuries were all the way healed, when they needed to focus on the mental part.

Except when the time came, they couldn’t give it up. Whumpee was so sweet when they were docile, following orders like the most perfect dog. ‘Take a shower’, ‘take your meds’, ‘change your clothes’, ‘stay in your room’, ‘hold still’… How much further was ‘get on your knees’?

The thought wouldn’t leave them alone. The occasional moral quandary they’d have about these things had always been almost immediately assuaged by the results of their little experiments, whenever Whumpee gave them that naive, trusting look, those big doe eyes that promised such all-encompassing obedience. They had no doubt it’d be even better if they were on their knees, looking up at them like an adoring pet.

Oh, they wanted it. They wanted what Whumper had had. They understood now, and really, they should’ve been thanking the guy for laying the foundations.

“Hey, Whumpee?” Caretaker called one day, and their delightful little pet immediately dropped whatever they were messing with to turn towards them. “Come here for a second.”

Whumpee walked over, dropping to their knees as soon as Caretaker pointed to the floor. They looked so embarrassed, the poor thing. “Oh, s-sorry, that’s… That’s awkward,” they stammered, face flushed with shame as they tried to push themself to their feet again.

“No, it’s okay. Stay like that.”

Whumpee glanced up at them, and for a moment, Caretaker wondered whether they’d gone too far. But then Whumpee simply settled back down, looking almost relieved that Caretaker didn’t make a big deal out of it.

[a-living-canvas]

Wildflowers

Whumpee was laying on the couch. They were busy scrolling down through Pinterest. Their eyes flickered to the door for a moment, wondering who's the one that had been making noise outside their house since just now. 

Before they could do anything, Caretaker rushed out to the front and opened the door. They smiled at the delivery guy before signing their name on the paper and brought inside a large box to the living room. Whumpee eyes widen, that's—

"This is mine…!" Whumpee said firmly at Caretaker. They snatched the box away from Caretaker before they could open it and peered inside. Caretaker was slightly taken aback by Whumpee's sudden behaviour.

"You don't need to get so mad at me though…what did you buy anyway?" 

Caretaker asked, leaning closer to Whumpee. Whumpee tightened their hold on the box. "Nothing."

Caretaker chuckled, "It can't be nothing, Sweetheart—"

"I said, it's nothing…!" Whumpee insisted. They slowly made their way upstairs, leaving Caretaker wondering alone.

~

That night, Whumpee climbed on their bed along with the box. They took a deep breath before cutting open the box and pulled out the content inside. 

"Finally…!"

They beamed up, felt slightly relieved seeing the chains and the handcuff back after 2 months escaping from Whumper. These things give them comfort, no matter how weird that would sound to Caretaker.

Whumpee put the restraint on their body the same way Whumper would. They grazed lightly on their neck, missing the feeling of the collar around it. Maybe they should buy one too, at least they could choose the colour and design.

"Okay, ready to sleep…!"

Whumpee said as their hands neatly handcuffed with their body chained to the bed. They sighed softly as their lips curled up. They missed this feeling. 

"Whumpee…?"

Oh no, that's Caretaker. Knocking on their door. Should they pretend to be asleep? Would that make Caretaker give up and leave them alone? But, it's not nice to be lying to them like this…

"Yes…Caretaker?" 

Caretaker smiled hearing Whumpee's voice. "Can I enter your room?"

"Um…I don't know…!"

"...you don't know?"

Whumpee panicked. They couldn't even move right now and it would take time to undo all the restraint. Caretaker would be suspicious then.

"I…kind of naked, right now…" 

Whumpee laughed nervously. What a dumb reason. Caretaker must have seen right through them. Because who would be naked at a time like this?

"...Can you put on some clothes so we can talk for a moment?"

Ah, dammit. Whumpee sighed heavily. There's no way out of this. They waited for a moment before speaking again,

"Okay, I'm done."

Caretaker unlocked the door before gently pushing it open. Their eyes widen at the sight of Whumpee being chained up on the bed. Whumpee's face flushed red in embarrassment, how could they let anyone see them in this state?

"Oh, Whumpee…" Caretaker started, they were smirking as they sat at the edge of the bed. 

"I never knew you are into this?"

Whumpee's face turned even more red. "I-I'm not! Seriously!" They said, trying to convince Caretaker. They knew how ridiculous they looked like right now. 

Caretaker chuckled, pinching Whumpee's cheek lightly. "Then, what's with all these restraints, hm?" 

Whumpee looked down, fingers fidgeting with each other. "It just…feels more comfortable like this…you know? I just don't like that I could move freely when I sleep. I need something to hold me down…"

Caretaker's gaze softened, they stroked Whumpee's hair gently. 

"I-I know how messed up that sounds like! That Whumper still—"

"Shh…it's okay, Sweetheart. I understand, it's not your fault."

Whumpee's eyes widened in disbelief. "It's…not? You won't look down at me?"

Caretaker shook their head, they squeezed Whumpee's hands lightly. "I won't. It's not your fault that Whumper made you like this. In fact, I don't think you need these restraints at all."

Caretaker started undoing all the restraint on Whumpee's body. They put the chain and the handcuff back inside the box. Whumpee looked at them curiously.

But before they could ask, Caretaker pulled them into a tight hug. A very very tight hug that Whumpee couldn't even move even if they wanted to. Caretaker chuckled, "Is this tight enough for you? Would you go to sleep now?"

Whumpee smiled. They nodded as they returned the hug as tightly back to Caretaker. It feels so much more safer like this…

"I will go to sleep now…goodnight, Caretaker."

Caretaker smiled as they kissed the crown of Whumpee's head. 

"Goodnight, Whumpee."

[chiharuuu22]

Tonight, Whumpee feels better. Caretaker had just carried him to the family room, where all the team members were gathered in front of the fireplace. Caretaker placed some pillows on the couch to support Whumpee. Don't forget a comfortable blanket covering Whumpee's body from stomach to feet.

That night, everyone was happy. The Whumper, who could no longer bother them, had been subdued; no one died this time, and Whumpee, who had regained consciousness yesterday, finally returned to join them.

There's no talk of Whumper, strategy, or anything sad and emotional. Everyone just talks about trivial things like the best brand of hot chocolate or what soup to make in the middle of winter. Occasionally there is a debate, but it just melts away, and another debate starts again.

Whumpee didn't talk much from the start, and this time it was because he was still weak. However, if you look closely, Whumpee is observing his teammates with a happy face. His eyes sometimes glanced at parts of his friend's body that were covered in bandages or looked bruised. Despite this fact, the only one who was seriously injured was Whumpee.

Even though Whumpee doesn't talk too much, the team members always invite Whumpee to interact, and Whumpee responds happily.

In the middle of the conversation about cookies, Whumpee fell asleep. The team members honestly felt relieved to see his peaceful sleeping expression. There were no wrinkles on the forehead or groans of pain, just a deep sleep with even breathing.

For the first time, Whumpee didn't have nightmares. He woke up in the morning to find all the team members sleeping together, curled up in thick blankets, and spread across the sofa and soft carpet. Whumpee didn't see Caretaker, but when he smelled something delicious, Whumpee could tell that Caretaker was busy in the kitchen, something she always did.

Whumpee smiled and guessed what soup they would be having this morning. Caretaker's cooking is always delicious, and Whumpee likes it all.

[paingoes]

Rubies

Terrors

(Content: living weapon whumpee, nonhuman whumpee, electric shocks, night terrors, panic attack, guilt, blood, conditioning, dehumanization, past abuse, past captivity, caretaker new master)

It had been a chill night. Delta had gone to bed earlier than normal, but that didn’t come as a shock. He seemed to need a lot of sleep. Apollo didn’t blame him for that. He had tried to stay up with Kitty for a few more hours, but he soon found himself just as exhausted. He called it in early too. He had just pulled out his pajamas when he heard Kitty’s voice from downstairs.

“Apollo!” She yelled.

He knew, immediately, something was wrong.

He was down there in an instant, faster than he ever liked to move but often had to. He felt the static electricity before he saw it — then he saw it. Delta’s door was open. He stood at the opening, bright arcs coming off of his body. His hair floated around his head and against gravity. His eyes were generating enough light to fill the whole room. Kitty watched in mute horror. Apollo hopped off the last couple stairs, immediately jumping between the two of them. Delta was still electric, still burning, burning, burning. He stared back at them with unblinking eyes.

“Miserum terrae,” he muttered softly beneath his breath. Apollo did not catch the exact words, but he caught the Latin pronunciation. He could see the way Delta was swaying where he stood. Asleep. He was asleep. Apollo reached for his hand.

The touch sent him into a fit, little bursts of energy leaving his body, jerking motions, screaming. He babbled on in Latin, gripping at his own hair, clawing at his own skin. Apollo reached again. He took both of Delta’s hands and pulled him down onto the kitchen floor with him. The touch shocked him badly, but he could live with the pain. He kept Delta’s hands secured. It stopped him from physically hitting himself; he was relieved to see that it also kept him from sparking so much. He’d read somewhere that even though they didn’t have to, psychics tended to use their hands as conduits. It made sense. 

Delta was hysterical, somewhere in between dreaming and waking. He babbled on in Latin. He was clinging to him so hard, Apollo was sure he was about to draw blood. 

“Shhh, sh, sh, sh, sh,” Apollo shushed him in a way that was nearly musical, half hummed. Kitty looked on nervously. “Night terror,” he mouthed. Lun used to get them all the time.

Apollo gasped in pain as a particular violent shockwave traveled through him. He gripped tighter, in part because of his muscles tensing involuntarily. Delta was starting to wake up. The sobs didn’t lessen any, but his speech was getting more intelligible.

“Mihi ignosce. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. Please.” 

His head was buried in the fabric of Apollo’s shirt. Apollo could feel it growing damp. He wasn’t convinced Delta was apologizing for the shock alone; he was probably still in the half-dream state, caught in some old memory. 

“Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Apollo stroked his hair gently, rocking back and forth. He glanced up at Kitty, who was making a perfect :( face.

He was shaking so badly. The words gave way to barely restrained whimpers, little gasps for air. They waited patiently for him to come back.

======

Delta let himself be led onto couch, too distressed to even protest. He curled in on himself despite the painful heat generating from his body. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated quietly, mortified.

Kitty sat down on the couch beside him, combing his hair out of his face. She braided it back. The cool air felt pleasant against his neck. 

Apollo set down the glass of water in front of him. Delta panicked again as soon as he reappeared. He could see the little puncture marks on Apollo’s arms from where he had grabbed onto too hard. He could still feel the electricity in the room.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He never would have done it before. Apollo didn’t deserve to get hurt like that. They hated him. They wouldn’t trust him. He’d known they would just as soon as they knew what he was really like. He didn’t want them to.

“You can hit me back,” he tried. Would that help? He needed desperately to be forgiven. He shouldn’t have even been on the couch. He had half the mind to throw himself at his feet right then, but the space between them didn’t allow for it. He shuddered.

Apollo kneeled instead. Well, not really. The posture was all wrong. Still, he had gotten onto his knees and leaned forward onto the couch.

“Hey. Look at me.” Apollo’s voice was serious. Delta obeyed. Apollo spoke very clearly.

“I’m not mad at you. You were having a night terror. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. And I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. You’re not in trouble.”

It took Delta a second to process the words. It did not feel like a real possibility. Not mad. Not getting hurt. Not in trouble. He was too distracted untangling this that he forgot to be panicked.

Kitty squeezed his hand. Apollo stood up, retreating to the kitchen to patch himself up. Delta remained in a stunned silence; he was still shaking a little. He couldn’t remember what had set him off or what he might have seen. All he really remembered was the fear. In the warm light of the living room, it was gradually fading. All of it was so confusing, endlessly. He was tired.

“Take a sip, babes.” Kitty lifted the glass towards him. He took it carefully from her hands, raising it up to his lips. He hadn’t realized how dry his mouth was, how much water he must have lost just from the heat he’d generated.

“Thank you,” he said softly. He was so grateful. He couldn’t understand the gentleness he was being shown. He could have gotten the water himself. He would have been fine if they’d just locked him in his room after. That would have been the right thing to do. He should have been punished somehow for the damage he’d done, the damage he could have done. But they had said he wasn’t in trouble at all. He didn’t understand why they were being so lenient with him. He’d done nothing to earn it. He felt sick with guilt.

Apollo pushed a citrus into his hand. “Here. You should eat.”

“Dude, why would you give him such a mechanically demanding fruit?” Kitty asked.

“Oh, I can peel it. The acidity helps, though. Or the vitamin C. For some reason it’s just really good for resetting your brain.”

He sat down on the chair opposite them. Delta undid the peel of the fruit himself. It was very sour, but not unpleasant. He did feel more awake afterwards, like the visions he had seen in his sleep were being forced further away.

“It was a night terror, wasn’t it?” Apollo confirmed, “Do you remember any of it?”

“No, sir.” Just the terror, sourceless. It was strange.

“Have you gotten them before?”

“No, sir,” Delta answered immediately. It was impossible. There was no way they would’ve let him get away with such a glaring design flaw. The security risks alone were unimaginable, even with the collar at full strength. Someone would have noticed.

Apollo considered this. He caught the look he gave Kitty. It wasn’t good. Delta knew how much of a problem this could be. He was a problem. He knew it. He was going to be more trouble than he was worth. He had to stop himself from apologizing again, as badly as he wanted to. Being sorry wasn’t enough.

“That makes sense, actually,” Apollo continued. “If you’re in an abusive environment for a long time, you develop methods to cope with the stress. It’s a kind of postponement. Once you’re out of it, all the emotions you’ve been repressing can resurface at once. It’s normal.”

The casual way in which he’d said abusive stood out to Delta. He knew what it meant; he wasn’t stupid. It was just strange to hear applied to him. Abuse was something that happened to real people. He was property. 

He’d gone quiet for a while. He was so used to the silence. 

“Do you need anything right now?” Kitty purred.

Nobody had ever asked. He could not even begin to answer. Kitty seemed to realize this, trying to narrow it down some.

“Do you want to try and go back to sleep? Or do you want to stay up for a little while?”

Easier. He was still so leery of trick questions, but even those were infinitely easier than the open-ended ones. 

“Can I stay up please, miss?” He had to keep his tone respectful, just in case it had been a trap. It’d have earned him some leniency.

She responded positively. “Ya! Do you want to watch anything? Or we can read!”

Her eyes flitted over to Apollo, who seemed to have collapsed right there on the chair. He looked back at them wearily.

“It’ll probably just be you and me, though,” she added.

“I can stay up a little longer, if you want,” he offered. He’d offered it to Delta. Delta nodded shyly. He wanted both of them there, if he could have it. He didn’t know how to say it. He wrapped his arms around himself. 

Kitty played an old movie on the projector. They didn’t make him speak for the rest of the night, a mercy he was very grateful for. He was content to just remain there on the couch, waiting slowly for his breathing to even out. Soon enough, he had forgotten there had even been any disturbance. When he finally went to bed again, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[whumplump]

Day 8 of @augusnippets

Prompts used: reunion / found family / friends

CW: team setting, recovery, hurt/comfort, aftermath

The Team Leader opened a path among their teammates. Already a few days after the fight that rescued the Vice-Leader from the hands of the enemy, the night fell peacefully, without the fear of a desired result, and Whumpee's promising recovery was a cause for celebration for all the officers. The Team Leader was greeted with bows and grateful smiles as they passed. Leading the group was always a difficult task, but it was worth it to see those faces, faces of people who could now sleep peacefully, unconcerned with any torture that would come the next day.

They passed through a narrow, dimly lit corridor of the bunker, towards the infirmary. They stopped in front of the door for a moment and read the inscription on the sign above, which said the name of the ward. They simulated their best smile. They actually wanted to burst through that door screaming and jumping with joy, but they controlled themselves, to maintain their calm and focused image. They entered.

The infirmary was a wing rich in beds, medicines and equipment, but poor in colors. Everything was either white or had pastel colors that only reminded of anesthetics and sedatives. In one of the furthest beds was Whumpee, the Vice-Leader. They were comfortably seated, with Caretaker on the left side of the bed, holding their hand, and Medic, on the right side, treating a wound on their other arm.

When the Team Leader approached and greeted them with their practiced smile and a nod, everyone reciprocated with good humor.

Whumpee and Team Leader stared at each other. Unlike when the Leader found the captive in the basement of Whumper's house, beaten, bleeding and terrified, now Whumpee's face showed calm eyes and a grateful smile. Not just the smile, but words, coming out with their rasp voice:

"Thank you.”

Team Leader got emotional and looked away for a moment. They wouldn't cry, they wouldn't cry…

"No need to thank me. I would do anything for my team."

"What Vice is this, who is kidnapped like that? You were trying to disappear so you wouldn't work, right?" Caretaker joked.

Whumpee laughed at their friend's humor and copied their attitude.

“What about you? Who asked Medic for a fake sick note last week?"

Caretaker and Medic looked at each other in slight panic.

"I didn't do anything..." the doctor hurried to explain.

The laughter continued for a few more seconds, until Medic cut the joke off with a serious tone.

"With the extent of your injuries, you will need several weeks of rest. The infirmary will be your room for the first few days. I will arrange psychological support for you as well." They said, addressing Whumpee.

The newly rescued one fell silent, briefly overcome by memories of the torture they had experienced in recent days. Noticing their friend's tension, Caretaker held their hand tighter, breaking them out of their trance.

Whumpee gave a tired but relieved smile.

"You know, you're more than just co-workers or friends to me. You're my family. I love you guys."

The group looked at the Team Leader when they heard them sniffle.

"Oh no, don't tell me you're crying!" Medic scoffed.

Team Leader quickly wiped their hand over their face, brushing away the tears.

"I'm not... There's something in my eye..."

The others laughed at the lie. Team Leader gave in and let the emotion wash over them. They all gathered together and formed a semicircle around Whumpee, enveloping them in a heartfelt group hug. They spent a few seconds in silence, enjoying each other's company. They were now together. No one would separate them anymore. Neither from each other, nor from the rest of the team. They were like a giant family, all siblings.

Caretaker took the opportunity to break the silence with another joke.

"Ah, Whumpee, and no busying yourself with chores while you're recovering!"

Medic hummed and nodded in agreement.

"Leave everything to Team Leader, they've been really lazy lately", they concluded.

"Hey!" Team Leader protested.

They all laughed.

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptober 2024 | Day 5 | The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

AI-less Whumptober: Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Whumptober: SUNBURN | Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

CW: bad burns, implied migraine/overstimulation, nothing else really

* * * * * * * *

Caretaker took great pain to rub the healing salve as gently as they possibly could on the horrific sunburns that absolutely covered Whumpee’s body. But Whumpee was restless. Squirming and whining with half-lidded eyes and breathy, small whispers of pain every time Caretaker touched them. Then the same even when the Caretaker took their hand away. Especially when Caretaker took their hand away. They thrashed on the bed in a barely-awake daze looking for the comfort of human touch, practically begging and pleading for it in mewling tones.

Then Caretaker would touch them to rub on the salve and soothe their wounds and they jerked away and cried out like a wounded animal, as if it were the most agonizing thing they’d ever experienced. Then jark around in terror when Caretaker pulled away again. Then–

Caretaker didn’t know what to do. There was no winning here.

“Care– Caretaker–... Help–...”

Caretaker looked to Whumpee, their heart suddenly beating a million beats a second.

Help?!

“Whumpee! Whumpee, what is it?!” They cried, rushing to the side of their bed. Whumpee cowered at the sound. Then held out a shaky hand to them.

“I–... I hurt–... I hurt, everything hurts, everything, my head, lights, my ski-in, help me–, help me please, please, plea-ease…”

Caretaker nearly took their hand before jerking back similar to how Whumpee did. It would just hurt them more.

“I’m trying Whumpee,” Caretaker whispered. They didn’t even realize they were crying until they felt the tears running down their cheek, the small crack in their pleading voice. “I’m trying, I really am, but it’s all just gonna hurt more before it hurts less. Everything I do is just gonna hurt you more.”

They squinted, whimpering in pain as they turned their head into the pillow. Their voice muffled. “Please, please… just make it stop. The– the light… bright… stop it.”

The light?

Oh shit, did Whumpee–?

You know what? Caretaker was just relieved they could actually do something that could actually help.

They immediately ran over to the light switch and flicked it off, bathing the room in an inky pitch blackness before their eyes started to adjust to the small amount of moonlight and streetlamp filtering in through the blinds.

Even in the darkness, even through the intense gripping and shaking, Caretaker watched as Whumpee physically sank more into the bed. A small, forced sigh.

“Tha-anks… Head. Ouch…”

“I bet.” Caretaker let out a strained laugh. I’ll sit with you the rest of the night, alright? That way you don’t have to be alone in the dark. And we can finish with the burn salve and wrapping later.”

Whumpee made a sort of affirmative whimper. Then: “Jus’– ‘m fine. Get it done. Please. Then-th-th-then we both sleep.”

Caretaker sighed. But it would be so nice to get some sleep… They both needed it.

“Alright, Whumpee.”

They returned to rub the salve on the twitching and thrashing and whining Whumpee.

At least Whumpee managed to thank them once they finished.

* * * * * * * *

Whumptober taglist: @whumperofworlds | @whumptober-archive | @regular-whump-sfx

(If you wanna be added or subtracted from the taglist, don't be afraid to ask!)

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump 2024 Day 1: Helpless

Content warning: young whumpee/caretaker. Not intended to be minors but could easily be read as such.

Five days after Whumpee went missing, Caretaker got a text from their phone number. It was simple, direct. An address, instructions to arrive alone, a threat of what would happen if they didn’t comply.

A picture of Whumpee, head pulled back by their hair, exposing a tearstained, bloodied face. 

Caretaker had been out of the door before they could think. 

And that’s how Caretaker found themselves sitting in their mom’s car at 2 am, parked in front of the shadiest motel they’d ever seen.  It was dimly lit, with only the palest glow and the flickering ‘OPEN’ sign to give any hint it wasn’t abandoned. Even from the outside, the place looked dirty, like their fingers would come back black if they touched anything.  

It looked like the sort of place where a mystery bloodstain was simply covered up with a cheap rug, where some bastard could drag in a hogtied captive without causing a scene. And Whumpee was there. 

 Caretaker’s hands shook as they gripped the steering wheel, their knuckles white. They swallowed thickly, begging the panicked thumping in their chest to slow. It didn’t.

It took Caretaker an eternity to build the courage to leave their car. They felt exposed once they did. They all but ran down the rows of doors, not taking long to find the one they’d been ordered to enter. They found themselves frozen in front of it for a long moment.

Everything in them demanded they turn back. Every sense of logic said they were over their head, that this was dangerous. Their legs were jelly beneath them, anxiety threatening to bring them to their knees. The thought of Whumpee, bound and gagged and terrified, was the only thing allowing Caretaker to stand.

 They couldn’t back out now. They had to do something, they were the only one who could. 

Caretaker brought a shaking fist to the door and knocked once, twice, three, four times, just like Whumper had ordered. Each knock rang like a gunshot in their ears. 

The silence that followed was deafening. Each second felt like an eternity, time moving at a snail’s pace. The darkness around them was suffocating, and they couldn’t help but feel phantom eyes on them. They flitched at every noise, expecting Whumper to jump out at them from the shadows at any moment. 

They nearly screamed when they heard a chuckle from behind the door. “I can practically hear your knees shaking out there. Come in, and close the door behind you.”

Caretaker obeyed. For a moment, they felt relieved to be out of the darkness. That feeling left only a moment later, the fear of being exposed replaced with the fear of being cornered. Caretaker tried to swallow the fear, standing stall despite feeling so, so small. 

Their eyes locked on the figure lounging on the bed. They looked…unbothered, relaxed, arms comfortably folded over their middle as they leaned against the backboard. There was a lazy confidence that stood in stark contrast to the tension running through every one of Caretaker’s cells. It put Caretaker’s teeth on edge. 

Neither of them spoke. Whumper seemed satisfied to sit in silence, a lazy smirk on their face. Caretaker’s tongue felt paralyzed in their mouth. 

They forced their eyes to leave Whumper for a moment, quickly taking stock of the room. It wasn’t the torture dungeon they feared. It was an old, cheap motel. Yellowing wallpaper, a carpet the color of a filthy mop, and the smell of mothballs. It looked entirely normal.

Their heart stopped at what they didn’t see.

The room was small. The bathroom and closet door were wide open, giving Caretaker view of every inch of the space. There was nowhere a person could be hiding. There was nobody else there. 

Caretaker heart stopped. “What–you said…where’s Whumpee?! You said you’d let them go if I came!”

“They’re not here, and I never said they’d be; I said they’d be safe if you came,” Whumper shrugged, as if their words weren't tearing a hole though Caretaker's chest. “You came, and so they’re safe. For now.”

Their words felt like a slap to the face. Whumpee wasn’t here. They weren’t here, and that fact drained whatever strength that’d allowed Caretaker to confront Whumper in the first place. Suddenly, they didn’t feel like they were coming to save their friend. They didn’t feel like they were brave, that they were doing the right thing. They felt like a defenseless rabbit caught in a trap.

Panic, animalistic and untainted with any sense of duty, flooded Caretaker’s veins so rapidly that it nearly knocked them off their feet. They were alone, miles away from home, standing in a room with a known kidnapper. Nobody was coming for them, nobody even knew where they were. 

Caretaker’s stomach dropped. They took a step back—

“Walk out that door, and the police will be ‘finding’ Whumpee scattered around half the city for the next month.” 

–and froze in place, too terrified to do anything else. 

Whumper didn’t need to move to stop Caretaker in place. Their words felt like a pin holding Whumpee in place. Underneath their lazy posture, underneath the almost amused expression, there was something sharp, something that drained the bravery from Caretaker’s veins. 

“Now here's what you're going to do. First, you’re going to get any silly ideas about playing the hero out of your head,” they gestured to Caretaker’s side. Caretaker flinched. “Then you’re going to drop whatever toy you brought with you.”

Instictually, Caretaker’s hands moved to cover their left pocket. They realized too late how stupid that was. “I don’t–I, I didn’t bring anything…” they could only mutter, eyes dropping to the floor.

Whumper raised an eyebrow. “Are we really going to do this? They always bring something. Maybe your dad’s gun, a knife from your old kitchen set, something. Don’t waste my time. Drop it.”

For the briefest of moments, the idea of fighting flashed in their mind. But their hands felt clammy and uncoordinated at their sides. Even if they brought out their weapon, they weren’t sure if they’d be able to do anything with it. They couldn’t stop shaking.

Whumper’s eyes didn’t leave Caretaker for a moment, and the eye contact alone nearly brought Caretaker to tears. They watched, frozen, as Whumper’s hand reached towards their waist, grabbing at something. Caretaker could’ve sworn they saw the glint of metal. 

Caretaker’s hands were digging into their pockets before they could think. The contents of their pockets fell to the floor a moment later. 

A small, cheap switchblade and greasy wad of bills bound in a rubber band plopped onto the carpet. A weapon and a ransom, all they could get their hands on in the little time they’d been given. It was all Caretaker could think to bring. 

Whumper chucked, low and amused, and made a show of returning their hands to their torso. The sigh of relief that forced its way from Caretaker’s throat was a half sob.  “Good kid. We both know you’re in way over your head. Just follow my lead, and we’ll all walk away happy. Alright?”

Caretaker’s tongue was led in their mouth.

“Alright?”

Terror forced them to speak. “Y-yes.”

Whumper gestured towards the chair in the corner of the room.

“Good. Now sit,”

Their body moved on command, mind too numb with fear to think of resisting. Everything had fallen apart so quickly. Their mind reeled from the whiplash.

They could only drop boneless in the chair. they didn't know if the tears dripping down their face were from frustration, shame, or pure terror.

From the chair, they could see what Whumper had been reaching for. A large pistol sat at their waist. Whumper followed Caretaker’s gaze and grinned. 

“Now, here’s how things are gonna work from now on.”

[whumpbump]

Inspired by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

Prompt #2624

“You’re a failure.”

“Yeah. But I’m ok with that.”

Whumpee woke up for the first time without screaming in days. The sun filtered through onto Whumpee’s blanket and danced as the wind tickled the curtains. ‘Today will be a good day.’

Caretaker helped Whumpee get washed and dressed. They sat together in a calm silence as music played quietly in the background.

A knock shattered the peacefulness. “W-were you expecting someone?” Whumpee hated how their voice cracked in fear.

Caretaker, before answering the door, mentally prepared themself for whoever could be there while peering through the peephole. It was Whumpee’s Team Leader. Looking back at Whumpee in confusion, they opened the door so they could all see each other.

Team Leader shifted uncomfortably in their spot. “Uh. Hi. Caretaker. Whumpee. It’s been awhile. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me but there are some things I’d like to speak about today if possible.”

Whumpee nodded and waved Team Leader in.

“I’ll make tea.” Caretaker shuffled off to the kitchen quickly, clattering around as they grabbed mugs and the kettle.

“Whumpee, I know I haven’t seen you since your last mission, I’ve been kept so busy with retraining the team and paperwork that I just couldn’t make it to the hospital.”

“Um, I was in the hospital and then rehab for a total of 8 weeks.”

“Yyyeeeaaahhh,” Team Leader dragged out their answer, “I really wasn’t able to have any extra time and your screw up lost the Team any off-base privileges for a month.”

“Sorry - my screw up?”

Realizing what had just come out of their mouth, Team Leader shut their eyes and mentally cursed themself for letting it slip.

Sighing, they doubled down. “Yeah. Your screw up. If you didn’t get cold feet when I told you to run, you wouldn’t have been caught, you wouldn’t have been beaten in interrogation, we wouldn’t have had to waste time and resources on trying to find yo-“

“I escaped on my own. You wasted your time and resources for nothing.” Whumpee interrupted, losing patience with this impromptu meeting.

“Which we didn’t know. You failed to notify the Team or even the Organization that you’d escaped and didn’t need further assistance.”

Fuming, Whumpee spit through clenched teeth, “I needed help. I asked for extra training. Do you remember what you told me? Actually, let me remind you because I’ll never forget it. You said ‘If you need extra training, then you shouldn’t be on this team’ -“

“I was giving you tough love. You could’ve succeeded, y’know. If you would’ve just listened to me, you were on the track to promotion for First Officer.”

“Well that doesn’t matter anymore does it? I can only assume you came to take back my badge and key swipe, yes?”

“Yes.”

Whumpee groaned while standing, and crutched their way to the bedroom. Returning with the items needed, they dropped them on the table within reach of Team Leader.

Not ready to let go of antagonizing their former teammate, Team Leader pressed on. “So are you enjoying your cushy new lifestyle?”

“Yeah, actually, it’s much better than the one I had before.” Whumpee stared at Team Leader with a neutral expression, tired of the conversation and Team Leader’s lack of niceties, if lack meant never having any at all.

Flustered by Whumpee’s calm demeanor to what should have crushed them, Team Leader reached into their memories back to a counseling session in which Whumpee had divulged their biggest fear.

“You’re a failure.”

“Yeah. But I’m ok with that.”

Team Leader’s mouth opened and closed. That was Whumpee’s biggest hurdle. Their greatest motivator. Team Leader knew they could hold it over their head and get the results they wanted. This is not how their exit interview was supposed to turn out. They would not be made a fool by their subordinate.

Opening their mouth to speak, they were cut off by Whumpee.

“I know you thought I would be hurt by you saying that. I did too, but I’m not hurt. I’m relieved. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry anymore about whether I’ll live or die at any given moment, that you have no power over me anymore, that Caretaker has my back. Like, actually has my back.”

“Well congratulations. I’ll be going.”

Team Leader picked up the badge and key swipe and shut the door behind them.

Entering the room, Caretaker brought basket of tea bags. “I have LOTS of flavors to choose from, wh-hey where’s Team Leader?”

“They couldn’t stay. They just came by to collect my badge and stuff.”

“Oh. Oh Whumpee, I’m so sorry. I know being on that Team meant a lot to you.”

“It was nothing but status and danger. I’m much happier here with you. And I’ll have Darjeeling, thanks.”