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#You need to trust the Caretaker is able and that whumpee is safe
pendarling · 10 months
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Stockholm Syndrome + Whump
Becoming quiet when asked, sitting still, eating and speaking as told to
When Whumpee convinces themselves that they love Whumper and it's for the best
Whumpers who let their Whumpee do anything after begging
“Escape? From what? Everything I need is right here.”
Cooking, cleaning or fulfilling other tasks without being asked
When Whumper feeds into Whumpee’s delusion that they are fine
“You’re safe with me, right? Because you trust me.” “Of course I do.”
Caretaker who tries to explain to Whumpee that they aren’t safe but Whumper acts so innocent and gentle that it makes Caretaker look bad
Whumpees who deny they were kidnapped or forget that part completely
Not being able to remember how life was like without Whumper
“Please, I need you.” “Oh, goodness. I know you do, I know…”
Whumper telling Whumpee false stories and using those times as a reason to ask for favours
Purposely making Whumpee fall sick constantly just to revive them again and overtime Whumpee becomes reliant on them
“Sorry… for always… being a burden…” “You know only I care about you, Whumpee.”
Whumpee feeling more sympathetic for Whumper when they share their (probably fake) backstory with them to get an emotional reaction
Not being able to sleep without Whumper near them
“You’re acting unusual. Less… fighting, more submitting”
Holding, gripping or touching Whumper so they know they aren’t alone
When Whumpee’s Stockholm Syndrome is so bad it gives Whumper Lima Syndrome
Neither Whumpee or Whumper lookout for reports on the news anymore
“You don’t believe a word they say?” “Not even for a minute.” “You must really like my company then, huh?”
Waking up with nightmares of what happened in the past and then being unable to recall what it was about
Forcing Whumpee to become compliant on the notion that somebody else’s life is at risk
Whumpee faking Stockholm syndrome and feeling disgusted at everything they say or do
^^^ Whumper catching them faking it!
^^^ Instead of confronting them they just make Whumpee do a lot of things to humiliate them until they really do give in
Part 2
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰ ───
~~~
MASTERLIST
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mj-iza-writer · 6 months
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Whumpee had tossed and turned half of the night until they finally sat up. They peered into the darkness of the room... their room. That still felt so weird to think about.
Only last week they were with Whumper, crying and begging for the pain to end, but now the pain wasn't happening. They didn't miss the pain, but something didn't feel right.
They quietly climbed down to the floor, not wanting to bother the kind person they were living with. They called themself Care- something.
"Caretaker", Whumpee whispered to themself.
They laid on the floor, this wasn't the same either. This carpet was almost as soft as the bed was. They were used to sleeping on hard floors, in loud houses. They were used to pain and hunger.
They finally gave up. They couldn't sleep. This house was too quiet, everything to calm. They were afraid to leave their room, they were afraid of a lot of things in this house.
They weren't given many rules or anything to go by. They had nothing to base on how they were expected to behave. They were filled with anxiety, anxious to do something wrong, anxious to mess this all up and be given back to Whumper. Anxious this was all planned by Whumper.
The door opened to Whumpee's room, Caretaker peaked in silently, but was surprised Whumpee was still awake.
"Hey, are you doing okay?", Caretaker stood at the door, "can I come in?"
Whumpee nodded, Caretaker asked if they could do a lot of things before doing them. Whumpee wasn't used to giving permission. Normally, Whumper did what they wanted with Whumpee.
Caretaker smiled and entered the room, "if you don't mind, I'm going to sit right here in front of you. We can talk and see what's going on."
"Okay", Whumpee looked down at the floor.
"So is everything okay", Caretaker sat down and smiled.
"I don't, I don't know, Caretaker, it feels so weird I should be happy shouldn't I", Whumpee looked at Caretaker sadly, "but I-I don't know how to feel."
"What are some things that you are feeling right now", Caretaker asked, "there is no correct answer for how you should be feeling, it's just how you are feeling."
"I feel scared, anxious, and empty", Whumpee stated, "I feel like I don't deserve any of this, and it's going to all disappear if I mess up. I feel I don't belong here. I feel like I deserve Whumper's punishments still."
Caretaker nodded in understanding.
"I feel like I am hurting you right now, but I am having a hard time trusting you", Whumpee shook, "I can't believe anyone is this nice, and I feel like this is a game from Whumper."
Whumpee felt a gentle hand touch their's.
"It's okay to feel all of this, I don't take any offense to anything you are saying. These are all fair emotions and feelings for someone who has dealt with what you have dealt with", Caretaker gave a gentle pat to their hand, "as for you being able to trust me, it will come in its own time, and it is my job to show you that you can in fact trust me."
Whumpee looked up in shock.
"Yes, I am a total stranger to you, I wouldn't ask that you trust me overnight. I hope that through my actions, I will be able to earn that trust."
Whumpee kept staring at them, trying to process everything that was being said.
"I know you have been having difficulty sleeping", Caretaker smiled, "those bags under your eyes are getting darker and darker, so let's start with some sleep. Tomorrow we can start working on processing this other stuff."
Whumpee frowned, "sleeping has been hard for me."
"So where are we having the difficulty?", Caretaker questioned, "besides this being a new space, and trusting that you are safe here. What else is going on?"
"Um I'm use to sleeping on the floor, I know it's weird, but the bed and the floor are so soft", Whumpee gave an awkward smile, "it's also really quiet, kind of weird, I know."
"Not at all", Caretaker smiled.
"I will need to be a little creative with the bed being soft, I hope you will forgive me on that. As for the noise or lack there of", Caretaker thought for a second, "I've got it, I will be right back."
Caretaker rushed out of the room and down the hall. They came back with a yawn.
"Apologies, 2am is a little passed my bedtime", Caretaker smiled.
"I'm sorry Caretaker", Whumpee watched sadly.
"No problem at all, I was honestly up working still, I'm glad I stopped to check on you though, I would have felt bad in the morning", Caretaker revealed something.
"Um, what's that", Whumpee looked at it curious.
"This is a noise machine, I bought it a few cases ago, when someone was having the same issue", they pressed a few buttons, and it started up, "I've forgotten about it until tonight."
The machine started to play a lullaby, when another button was clicked a thunderstorm and rain started.
"It makes several sounds, you can play with it and see what you like. You can even adjust the volume", Caretaker set it down near the bed, "don't worry about bothering me with the sounds either, I won't hear it down the hall, and I'd rather you get some sleep anyways."
Whumpee looked at them with a smile, "thankyou so much, I can try it out tonight."
"You're welcome", Caretaker smiled, "we'll see how you do tonight, I do apologize about the bed, I unfortunately do not have a quick fix, but I will figure something out for you. I may need to phone a few caregivers to see if they have ran into this and how they fixed it or what they would do. Let me know in the morning how you do, and I will work on it if you need me too."
Caretaker grinned when Whumpee did a small yawn.
"Let's get you into bed. If you need anything at all, come and get me. It's not a problem at all", Caretaker pulled the blanket onto Whumpee.
"Thankyou so much Caretaker, I think that is helping already", Whumpee smiled, then yawned again.
"I see that", Caretaker grinned.
I should end it here. Sorry, but this might be a little longer than originally intended I want to fix this for Whumpee. - MJ
Caretaker woke up to their alarm around 9am. They hurried down to Whumpee's room and held their ear to the door. The sound machine was still going. They cracked open the door enough to glance in. Whumpee seemed to have moved around a bit, but they were asleep at least.
Caretaker set to work on the mattress issue. They sent a group text out to other caregivers in their network. Someone finally answered.
Caretaker smiled when they saw Whumpee come down for breakfast.
"Did you sleep better with the sound machine?", Caretaker prepared the plate for Whumpee.
Whumpee smiled, "yes thankyou again, I'm sorry for keeping you awake."
"I'm glad you slept better", Caretaker served them the plate, "please don't worry about me being up late."
Whumpee looked at the food excitedly.
"I was able to find a caregiver who had a similar case with making a bed harder. We have to wait for an online order to be delivered tomorrow, but I ordered a mattress topper that will make it feel firmer. I will also add some plywood under the mattress. I can make adjustments as you need them as well", Caretaker took a sip of coffee.
Whumpee listened, "so someone else had experienced the same things I have?"
Caretaker nodded in agreement, "yes that's why I love having a network of other caregivers to talk to. Someone has definitely dealt with the same issue. I have also been able to help others as well."
"Once we are done with breakfast we can do a few things, and we need to run a few errands. Maybe after lunch we can start going through those feelings you gad last night. Does that sound ok?", Caretaker watched happily as Whumpee ate with gusto.
"Yes Caretaker", Whumpee looked up with a mouth full of food."
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serickswrites · 1 year
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can you write something where whumpee really trusts whumper - and whumper is in love with them but they don't love them back. so one day whumper slips a love potion into their food/drink and it works. whumper keeps whumpee with them but at one point they (whumper) start getting really possessive and start drugging whumpee regularly to keep them weak and stop them from running away.
all while caretaker is incredibly worried and just trying to find whumpee.
(no pressure though of course)
Hello, anon! Absolutely I can write this. (I think I may have written a couple of iterations of this in the past!)
I hope this is to your liking and you enjoy it!
Asks are always open, so please ask away!
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Warnings: yandere, magic, captivity, creepy/intimate whumper
Whumpee sat down at the table next to Friend. "It's been a long day, I'm beat." They pulled the glass of wine Friend had poured for the and took a sip.
"I know, that's why I thought you could use a drink. A massage maybe? Something more?" Friend winked.
Whumpee rolled their eyes. "Friend, I love you. As my friend. You know that!"
Friend did know that. They knew Whumpee did not love the despite how much they loved Whumpee. But tonight, that changed. "Drink up. There's plenty more."
"Friend," Whumpee said after they drained the glass and Friend refilled it. "Aren't you going to drink some?"
Friend smiled. "It's for you. I need to be able to get home safely."
Whumpee shook their head and put their hand on Friend's forearm. "Stay. With me. Please."
Whumpee's face was inches from Friend's. Perfect. Friend Whumper leaned in and kissed Whumpee. Whumpee melted at their touch. "If you insist."
Whumper took Whumpee home with them that night. Whumpee had passed out before much else after the kiss. But Whumper knew that everything would be different now. They ran their fingers down Whumpee's body as they tucked Whumpee into their bed. This was everything they wanted and hoped for.
Days later, Whumper feared that the potion was wearing off when Whumpee mentioned about going to work. Meeting up with other friends. They slipped another dose and made a mental note to put some potion in Whumpee's coffee every day. They couldn't risk losing Whumpee now.
Weeks later, Whumpee was still with them. Still snuggled in their bed at night. Still welcoming Whumper's kisses and touches. And so when Caretaker came snooping around, Whumper knew they had to get rid of them. That Caretaker would know their secret.
"Friend? Have you seen Whumpee? No one has seen them in weeks. They haven't returned my calls or texts. I'm getting worried." Caretaker stood in the doorway, brows pinched tight with concern.
"I'm sure Whumpee's fine," Whumper said soothingly. "How about you come in for a cup of coffee though? We can go over everything we know."
Caretaker nodded and stepped into Whumper's home. Whumper smiled. They would slip something into Caretaker's coffee that would take care of them. Permanently. And then Whumpee would be theirs forever.
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golden-songbird · 1 year
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since i love sanders sides and whump, here are the sides as whumpees, caretakers, or whumpers depending on which role i think they suit best!!
tw for mentions of catatonia, emotional abuse, physical torture, and extreme people pleasing.
roman: whumpee. roman is a golden child at heart, so he would do whatever it takes to please the whumper right away. he wouldn’t act weak or be a pushover, but he would try to be who he thinks the whumper wants him to be by going above and beyond on tasks and always doing things with a smile. but it wears on him, and as the torture gets worse, and roman realizes that his desire to please isn’t changing anything, he grows extremely distressed and his mind breaks into catatonia. he’s barely able to break out of it when he’s rescued, and he regularly falls into his appeasing habits, stuck in that desperate need to please people in order to avoid injury or pain.
patton: whumper. yep. i said it. it’s controversial but it’s just how i think it would work. patton would be the most terrifying whumper because he acts like the worlds sweetest little thing. nobody would even suspect that he tortures people and traumatizes them to the point of no return. his abuse would mostly be emotional, taking advantage of peoples phobias, convincing them that they’re worthless, or that they only deserve love and human decency when they’re perfect, obedient little pets. but i could also see him getting physical, and then hugging his whumpee and saying stuff like “i wish i didn’t have to do it, but you just make me”.
logan: whumpee. logan is a rules guy. as a whumpee, he would observe what gets him in trouble and what doesn’t, and mentally create rules for himself in order to stay safe. he doesn’t care about his wants or needs. just following the rules and staying alive. he’s not much of a reacter unless he’s getting extremely tortured, and whumpers make a game out of trying to get a reaction out of him. so logan learns the rule to react early to avoid further torture. when he’s rescued, he keeps his rules, just in case he needs them again.
janus: caretaker. ferociously protective over whumpees, more on the side of caring for whumpees than getting back at whumpers, but he has a very strong sense of justice. he’s the kind of caretaker who’s stern with most people, but is super gentle with whumpee, trying to play a sort of good cop role as he coaxes whumpee to eat more or get some sleep. he’s typically a secretive guy, but whumpees bring out the honesty in him as he tries to make himself seem more approachable and less scary to whumpees. he’s just a great guy.
virgil: caretaker. his approach is different from janus’ in the sense that he is absolutely a revenge person. if someone hurts his friends, then they’re in for it. virgil is also a bit more tough love than janus, and he’s not afraid of being the bad guy if something has to get done and nothing anybody else is doing for whumpee is working. his harshness can lead to bad things, but oftentimes, it’s necessary to really break whumpee out of bad habits. virgil also tends to lose sleep trying to care for whumpee and forget about taking care of himself, which is very bad. but he works on it.
remus: whumpee. he is the classic defiant whumpee, but it’s in a different way. he doesn’t act angry or “tough guy”, but he does pretend to be unbothered by torture. he puts on a front that he doesn’t care about anything, including his own well-being, and he’s really good at keeping it up, but inside, he’s terrified of his weaknesses being discovered and exploited. he doesn’t trust anybody after he’s rescued, ever really. the trauma sticks with him, and even after he’s rescued, he feels like he’s still there forever, always needing to pretend that he doesn’t care about anything at all.
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whumpbump · 2 years
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Whumpee’s trust has been absolutely shattered. They have no trust left, for anyone. Not even their caretaker.
Every chance they have, they escape back to where they were found: a small space in the woods that Whumpee made into a home. It wasn’t a nice home, but it was theirs.
There was a small lean-to out of branches and it was only a small walk from a river where Whumpee could wash and get water from. Each escape, Whumpee made it a bit more home-like. They thatched the roof on the first time. The second, they dragged a log over to make a bench. That’s when the Caretaking Organization sent someone out to destroy the camp to deter Whumpee from returning.
Whumpee held clumps of what was once a roof in their hands, tears streaking down their dirt-smudged cheeks. Their home. Their safe place. Gone. They heard the crunching of boots behind them. Probably the Rescue Team again. Whumpee knew all of their names from being around them so much. And knew that Current Caretaker would probably want to give them back since they were such a nuisance for running away.
The crunching came closer and Whumpee prepared for the impact of being grabbed once more. They flinched as a hand patted their shoulder. “This must’ve been some place, huh.” Whumpee looked up. It was Current Caretaker. “You came.. for me?”
Whumpee couldn’t believe that Current Caretaker actually still wanted them.
“Well YEAH! It’s my JOB but also, you seem like you need someone who will stick with you, no matter how many lean-tos we need to build to help you feel safe.”
Whumpee turned to look them in the eye questioningly.
“So Whumpee. How do we build one of these things? I figure you’ll need a place to go for quiet time, right? As long as I can hang at a distance, I don’t mind camping out with you.”
Together with their combined strength, they were able to build a bigger, stronger lean-to, big enough for multiple people so Current Caretaker could join. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Whumpee thinks as they drift off that night in the last new bed they’ll ever have, in the last new home they’ll ever have.
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whump-or-whatever · 1 year
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(CW: Gaslighting, abuse, manipulation, ableism against people with personality disorders (NPD), etc.) (Also, this is a bit of a long ask. But I just have so many ideas, sorryyyy.) BPD whump anon again. I also have NPD traits/symptoms (narcissistic personality disorder), and I can definitely get with the idea of a whumpee who has NPD who constantly needs attention and tries to always make themselves feel like they're the best, the smartest, and the most talented. They try to make it a competition with other whumpees that they can handle the torture the most, but it's just a way to cope with the fact they feel so worthless and Whumper is just the absolute worst. Whumper constantly hypes Whumpee up as a cruel way, knowing Whumpee needs reinforcement validation to feel safe and good about themselves. Whumpee always fantasizes about being super powerful and the best/strongest, so they can get out of this painful situation and protect themselves. But then, Whumper ends up intentionally causing Whumpee to have NPD crashes as a way to make them feel awful. Whumper intentionally makes it hard for Whumpee to be able to daydream as a way to cope with the torture they go through. Whenever Whumpee is distressed and reacts with anger to their situation, Whumper just tortures them and tells them that their needs and expectations don't matter. This just hurts Whumpee so damn much, they have no idea how to cope with this except by internally telling themselves how 'amazing' they are when in reality they just feel so worthless. Idk, just a Whumper playing with a person's self-esteem and constantly confusing their self-esteem and ego as a form of torture. Whumpee with NPD may struggle to trust anyone or open up abt what they want with Whumper, in fear they will be rejected. Whumpee hates being rejected. Whumpee can feel their lungs burn and ache whenever they're being or feeling rejected. They try to tell themselves they're special, and they feel that they are. They tell themselves they will leave this hellhole, and they can only depend on themselves. That they're the best. But... we all know, Whumpee is just miserable. Extra miserable too, because NPD is so heavily demonized and stigmatized... and Whumper constantly justifies the torture and abuse they put Whumpee through because they have NPD. Whumpee angry with the ableism, bites back. But at one point, too afraid to really try and prove Whumper wrong just... accepts that they will always be "abusive" and "deserve" the abuse they're going through. It's just what they deserve, even tho they didn't necessarily do a lot of bad things in their life. Whumpee would do anything to protect themselves, even if it means having to control others or manipulate others. Whumper uses this to their advantage, constantly making Whumpee feel like crap for having unhealthy thought and behavioural patterns to protect themselves. They taunt them and say they can NEVER recover, even if they actually can. Whumpee just wants someone to admire them and love them for who they are, they just want to feel safe. That's all. But they end up believing they truly are a monster and that this IS what they deserve. So they get conditioned. After all, being the victim, the 'evil' victim will always make them more likeable. Cuz that's all they ever wanted, to be likeable, to have worth. :(
(You can add your own caretaker ideas, if you want. Tho friendly reminder to others in general, pwNPD (or any disorder tbh) aren't inherently abusive or manipulative or controlling. Some of us just do these things bc we don't necessarily know how to healthily communicate our needs without fear of us being manipulated or rejected. But tons of us work on our behaviours and crap with therapy, and work on replacing these behaviours and mindsets.)
More great ideas anon!!
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em-writes-stuff · 2 years
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Whump of May day 5
+ bthb bleeding out
prompts used: “Mind if I cut in?” knife, ballroom, stumbling
warnings: blood, being stabbed, blackmail (idk if that needs tagged or not, but better to be safe than sorry)
characters: basically whumper, whumpee and caretaker, but they have names
words: 1073
@themerrywhumpofmay @badthingshappenbingo 
The ball was in full swing, the king was dancing with his queen, the prince with his princess, Vincent with his Adelaide. One of the older knights was floating from partner to partner, chatting as he danced. The servants danced with each other behind their table, keeping an eye on the platters of food. Anyone in the castle walls who wanted to come to the ball had the opportunity, and the room was packed. Which is why Adelaide’s heart was pounding out of her chest. Whatever Vincent had planned, it wasn’t good. 
Vincent pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “You’re too stiff. Someone’s going to notice. Take a deep breath and calm down, unless you want mommy and daddy dearest to never see you again.” 
He pulled back and smiled forcefully at her; she smiled nervously and looked down at his waist, where his frock coat barely covered a pearl handled knife in his belt. 
She needed to see her parents again, even if it was only to apologize for not being there. She just needed to do what he said for a few more hours, then he promised he’d take her to see them. If there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a liar. 
The music sped up and Vincent twirled her, making her stomach knot even more. 
“There’s a swap soon, if you say anything to anyone, I will not hesitate.” He hissed. She nodded and swallowed thickly. 
She looked to her right and saw a blacksmith, then to her left and saw a butcher, both cleaner than she’d ever seen them. It would be alright. They’d make small talk then she would be back with Vincent and still be able to see her parents. 
The tempo slowed down and she reached out to the butcher, him reaching for her, but just as their fingertips touched, the older knight she’d been watching from before took her hand. 
He looked back at the butcher and asked, “Mind if I cut in?” 
The butcher shook his head and the knight placed his hand on Adelaide’s waist. She smiled and bit her lip, waiting for him to say something. 
“Hello, I’m Conrad. The head of the knight’s guard. What’s your name?” 
“Adelaide. I’m a seamstress in the lower town.” She said, using the cover Vincent told her to. 
He hummed and nodded, “My wife’s a seamstress, too. Were you busy with the ball?” 
Of course his wife was a seamstress. Why wouldn’t she be? 
“I was, I barely even had time to make mine.” 
The music changed tempo and he spun her out gently, holding eye contact as she came back to him. 
“Your heart is beating very fast.” He observed. 
Because Vincent wants to kill someone here.
“I haven’t been dancing in a long time,” She said. 
“Tell me, who are you here with?” He asked. 
Her smile faltered, Someone who’s blackmailing me. “A childhood friend. We were neighbors.” 
He’s onto me. I have to keep my cover.
He cleared his throat, “Why did you come with him?”
There’s no way I’d be caught dead here if Vincent weren’t threatening me.
“We’ve always been very close.” She hurried. Can we switch back, already? “I could swear I’ve met him before. Were you both born here?” He asked. 
Closest thing to the truth. “He and his family moved here when he was twelve. No idea where they moved from though.” She said. 
He nodded. The music changed again and Adelaide exhaled. “Have a good night, Adelaide.” 
Vincent grabbed her waist and pulled her close, his breath hot on her ear, “I hope nothing revealing happened.” She shook her head. “Good.” 
He looked past her and stared intently, “So then why is he watching you?” He continued to stare, “You must’ve said something. Too bad.” 
She shook her head, “I didn’t, I swear!” 
He frowned, “You’ve done nothing but lie since we met. Why would I trust you now? Because you want to see your parents one last time? Yeah, right.” 
He held her close and pulled his knife out of its sheath, and thrust it into her stomach. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream and she hunched forward, leaning on him as he pulled the knife out of her gut. 
He stepped away from her and she stumbled a few feet forward. She raised her hand to the gash and kept pressure on it. 
Everyone at the ball gasped and backed away from her. They all watched as blood slowly stained her dress, but none moved forward to help her. 
Someone pushed through the crowd, shoving people out of their way. 
“Who did it?” He asked. The crowd all pointed at someone different, but Conrad didn’t pay attention to them. “Adelaide, who?” 
She looked up at him and pointed in the middle of the crowd, “Vincent.” 
Vincent smirked at her and drew his blade. He started to walk towards someone in the crowd, but no one paid attention to him, they were all watching her.  Adelaide struggled to her feet and stumbled toward him. 
If I’m going to die, might as well make it worthwhile.
She pushed and shoved the few people that didn’t move until she reached Vincent. She kicked his shin and when he bent down, she kneed him in the chest. 
He laughed, “Are you really trying to stop me?” 
Dots danced in her vision, but she wasn’t going to give up. Not after everything. Not now. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to the ground. 
“Oh, poor Adelaide. Trying to do the right thing now?” He mocked. “Where was this a few days ago?” 
She panted as he fought against her. She wasn’t going to let him get away. 
Her fingers separated, he lifted his head. She couldn’t see what was happening, her vision was blurry. She heard screaming and someone fall to the ground, then retreating footsteps. Someone ran past her and a dozen others followed them. Someone knelt down next to her and picked her up, carrying her out of the ballroom, but she blacked out before she knew who it was. 
~
The court physician stood over Adelaide’s. He pulled a sheet over her and looked at Conrad. 
“Will she make it?” The knight asked.
He shook his head, “There’s no way of knowing just yet. She’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll update you in the morning.” 
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the-vault-is-open · 2 years
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The terrible rattle of the chains, [Caretaker] thought it would echo on their ears until the day they died. Even when the time took the sharpness of details from their memory, the metallic sound would prevail sharp and crystal clear.
When [Whumpee] was lowered to the arms of their team, was when fear snapped [Caretaker] into action. It had only been a moment, it had not been more than a few hours and yet—There were lacerations to take care of. Wounds to tend. Their fingers immediately started checking the [Whumpee]'s pulse, checking their pupil response, checking for fractures, for anything life threatening the plain eye could miss—
A hand gripped their wrist.
[Whumpee] was barely on the edge of consciousness, tethering between alertness that seemed to gradually give way to exhaustion. However, their eyes were present and focused, while they took the [Caretaker] wrist. A pull to the present of sorts, not the frenzied run into their tasks.
"I'm here. I'm here [Whumpee]." It was [Caretaker] turn to take a deep breath, as they covered [Whumpee]'s hand with their own. The rest of the team mates had moved around giving them both a defense and a moment. "I need to let me care of you, then we all would be out of here."
[Whumpee] squeezed (or tried to), once. [Caretaker] gently took the hand to their lips. "I'm here. I promise."
Just then, [Whumpee] seemed to finally let themselves relax.
"We're gonna be home soon." And this time, it was [Team leader] that echoed their thoughts.
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whumptober · 4 years
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Whumptober 2020 - Updated
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Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.
We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging
No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY  "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped
No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint
No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building
No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue
No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"
No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker
No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation
No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice
No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood
No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying
No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust
No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask
No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire
No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong
No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage
No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused
No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia
No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt
No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval
No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection
No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal
No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation
No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation
No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears
No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness
No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage
No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged
No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest
No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury
No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead
Alternate Prompt List
Alt 1. Punctured
Alt 2. Falling
Alt 3. Comfort
Alt 4. Stitches
Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees
Alt 6. Altered States
Alt 7. Found Family
Alt 8. Adverse Reactions
Alt 9. Memory Loss
Alt 10. Nightmares
Alt 11. Presumed Dead
Alt. 12. Water
Alt. 13 Accidents
Alt. 14 Shot
Alt. 15 Carry/Support
Event Info
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruised, #stabbed,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020​ blog. They must be tagged in the order above.
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.
Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?
Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters answering one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes,  but it only counts once
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day's prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
Yes, but please do not use a specific prompt twice. We have also created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from [here].
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?
Of course!
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What's whump?
See this post
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn't whumpy at all, does that count?
No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time”.
Q. How do I tag triggers?
tw at the end of the word, ex. emeto tw
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.  
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, just be sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies of whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
10K notes · View notes
Note
Whumper 4, caretaker 5 caretaker (doesn't know it's blood)
Is that ok?
Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Caretaker 5: “Let me help you.”
Yeah, of course that's ok :) I'm guessing that the parenthesis was supposed to go before the 'caretaker' and they don't know about the blood? well, I hope that's it because that's what I wrote haha, but if it wasn't, please feel free to send me another ask <3
Also, some content warnings because this one ended up a little intense: implied noncon (didn't mean to write it like that but the vibes are there so), noncon drugging, a very creepy and intimate whumper... there's comfort at the end though!
-
Whumpee should’ve known there was something weird about Whumper. No one could smile that big and talk that kindly without wanting something in return. They just never thought it’d be this.
“Come on, now. I don’t have the whole night. What’s your choice?”
All Whumpee does is close their eyes and shake their head, too overwhelmed to force any words out of their quivering lips.
“Whumpee, it’s not a hard one,” Whumper huffs, and they can hear the annoyance in their voice but they can’t convince themself to say the words. “Do you need me to repeat it to you?”
They don’t, the sound of Whumper’s offer still echoes inside their head, loud and clear.
But Whumper takes their silence as agreement.
“Here’s your choice: you can take these pills and be the entertainment of my party tonight, or I can go snatch someone else to do it. You’ll only stay if you agree, and if you don’t, I’ll let you walk away and never see me again. It’d be a shame though, because everything is ready for you. I’ve been watching you, and oh Whumpee, you are just so… perfect. But, in case you say no, I can always go after someone else. Say… Caretaker? I’m told they are a friend of yours.”
Their heart pounds in their ears, so loud Whumpee is almost surprised Whumper can’t hear it too.
“I can go get them if you want me to. Can’t promise they’ll come out in one piece after my guests finish playing, though. Not like I can promise you. You are far too precious to be permanently damaged, you I can promise to keep somewhat safe. Caretaker on the other hand, not so much. Who knows what those troglodytes could do to them if I give them a free pass?”
Whumper’s laugh fills the basement Whumpee woke up in only minutes ago, bouncing off the walls and making Whumpee’s skin crawl. How could they trust the mysterious stranger who offered them a ride? Why hadn’t they been more careful? Now here they are, locked in a basement with someone twice their size and no hope of escape. If only they’d been more careful–
“Well?” Whumper says, drawing Whumpee’s attention back to those narrowed eyes, glinting with cruelty.
“W-what will you do to me?” Whumpee whispers through the thick layer of fear enveloping their world. “If, if I say yes… what then?”
Their smile is almost as horrid as their laughter. Whumpee shrinks against the wall, pulling their knees closer to their chest. “If you say yes my love, the pills will start working in a few minutes. I will give you a nice new outfit while the drugs do their job and then when you are barely able to walk, I’ll help you up the stairs. Everyone will be so happy to see you, Whumpee.” Their eyes burn, but no tears fall when Whumper scoots closer and touches their hair, gentle fingers brushing back sweaty locks. “And then we will have fun. You’ll barely remember it afterward, but I will remember it forever. You might be left with some sore spots but all temporary. Well, almost all temporary, won’t promise one or two marks for you to remember me later. Maybe a few scratches, some of my friends are remarkably fond of knives. But the point here is that you’ll make anything we want you to, and that’s the real fun.”
“And if I say no?”
“If you say no, I’ll go after your friend. Kidnap them, just like I did you. And when they awake, they won’t be given the choice I’m giving you since it wasn’t them I really wanted. I’ll take them upstairs, and we’ll make them hurt. Scream. Cry. Maybe I’ll record it and send it all to you so you know what fate you chose for them. Now, what's your choice, Whumpee? Tell me.”
As they speak terrible word after terrible word, Whumper’s fingers continue to play with Whumpee’s hair. Twisting and brushing and caressing. Always so soft, so awfully soft in comparison to the nightmares they spit into Whumpee’s brain.
“Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?”
A tear finally escapes, only to be brushed away by Whumper’s touch.
“But don’t worry. If you make the right choice, It won’t be all pain, baby. It’ll be about those big scared eyes and that delightful little quiver on your lip. About how gorgeous you will look when you’re barely able to walk, and how you will cling when you can’t think straight. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll take care of you.”
Whumper is right.
In the end, it isn’t a hard choice.
Whumpee closes their eyes and nods at the same time a soft, broken “okay,” slips out of their lips. It doesn’t feel like the lock of a door they were expecting. It feels like taking a step into the void, and knowing there’ll be thorns waiting for them when they fall.
Still, it’s with Caretaker’s smile in their head that they force themself to swallow when two round pills touch their lips. They don’t open their eyes until a bottle of water is held for them to drink from. It is only when there is no more chance for them to break and plead to be let go, even if they want to, desperately, that they let their eyes flutter open.
Whumper is waiting for them with a wide smile when they do.
“Let us begin then.”
And so they do.
Whumper brushes Whumpee’s hair and gently applies makeup to their face. When they ask Whumpee to undress and give them new clothes, they don’t hesitate to obey, and only when Whumper is closing their zipper for them do they realize how faint they feel.
When they are placed in front of a mirror, Whumpee looks at the shiny clothes but forgets what they looked like as soon as they are led away. By the time the door is opened and music first hits their ears, they are leaning against Whumper to keep standing.
They try to climb the stairs. Narrowing their eyes to concentrate, they raise their foot, but the world is filled with blurred colors and too-quick movement, and the only reason they don’t fall is Whumper’s fast hands holding them up.
Whumpee is almost grateful when Whumper chuckles and whispers against their hair. “Easy there, baby. Let me help you.”
They rest their head against Whumper’s heart when they are picked up bridal style, and stay that way until the lighting changes and voices fill the air.
They are placed on the floor, and with Whumper’s help, manage to keep standing, even though the floor refuses to stand still under their feet.
And then there are hands on their hands, squeezing and hurting, and Whumpee tries, they try so hard, but instead of the firm no they want to say, only a moaned “n-hng, I, I, d-don, wha-what’s hap-happe–,” comes out.
And then the world slips away, and though their body still moves, they are barely there anymore to see it.
-
When Caretaker’s doorbell rings, they don’t hesitate to jump out of bed and run to the door. They’ve been sending Whumpee messages all night without response, and concern rings louder than sleep. Only when they open the door and see the sunrise do they realize how early it already is.
And then their gaze slides to the figure leaning against their doorframe, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and their heart misses a beat.
“Whumpee?” Caretaker calls, reaching out their hand.
But before they can touch sparkly clothes they’ve never seen their friend wearing before, Whumpee cowers away. Caretaker retreats, but their heart races even faster.
“Whumpee, what’s wrong? Where were you, did something happen?”
Whumpee looks up, and Caretaker doesn’t need an answer to know what happened. Wide pupils, half-lidded eyes, smudged makeup and parted lips tell them all they need to know.
“Oh, Whumpee.”
There are stains all over their clothes, too. Is it spilled alcohol? Is it vomit?
“Oh, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighs again, taking a slow step in their direction, feeling a sad, involuntary frown settling on their forehead. “What did you do?”
Whumpee follows their steps with their eyes but keeps still. It is only when Caretaker comes close enough for touch and extends their hand that they wince and shrink into themself again.
“Honey, I can see you’re not okay,” Caretaker says as calmly as they can. “Let me help you.”
Another step, and this time all Whumpee does is close their eyes and let out a low whimper. Caretaker sighs again as they help Whumpee wrap their arm around their shoulders and lead them inside.
Whumpee is almost a dead weight in Caretaker’s arms as they help them get into the bathroom, to seat on the toilet and lean back against the wall.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker asks, crouched down in front of Whumpee.
“I, I, I don– don’t, W-Whum-per. They, they, they did... something.”
“Who’s Whumper, love?”
But all Whumpee does is shake their head no as tears stream down their cheeks.
“Okay, you can tell me later. Can you at least tell me what did you use?”
The look Whumpee gives Caretaker is so utterly lost, that they nearly start crying as well.
“Don’t… kn-know. Pills?”
“How about a shower, and then we talk more, huh?” Caretaker tries, nodding encouragingly. Whumpee swallows, but doesn’t nod along with them. Instead, their eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for nothing.
With a reassuring squeeze on their knee, Caretaker gets into the shower and turns on the faucet. As the water warms up, they take one look at Whumpee’s slumped form and walk over to the mirror.
Clutching the cold porcelain of the sink, Caretaker looks up at their own image in the mirror – tired and disappointed, but also patient. Worried.
“You can do this,” they mouth to themself, “Whumpee needs your help.”
With one last sigh, they turn their head to Whumpee and take a step in their direction. And then a step back, when something grabs their attention at their peripheral vision.
Caretaker stares at their image in the mirror again and feels their heart stop when they see their sleeve stained red. The sleeve where their friend’s arm had just touched.
It isn't alcohol or puke on Whumpee’s clothes.
It is blood.
“Whumpee,” they call, dropping to their knees in front of them. Whumpee jumps and meets Caretaker’s stare with wide, scared eyes. “You are bleeding. Are you hurt? I need you to tell me where you are hurt, Whumpee.”
But all they do is breathe faster and faster, pure helplessness on their face.
“If you can’t tell me, I need to find the source of blood on my own. I’m taking your shirt off, okay?”
Caretaker doesn’t wait for an answer, and Whumpee doesn’t give them one.
They don’t fight Caretaker’s hands when they pull the shirt over their head, even when a pained hiss leaves their lips.
Caretaker holds their breath when they see Whumpee’s bared skin.
Bruises color their entire torso, as well as long crisscrossing welts. Their arms are covered in small, rounded marks that look dreadfully like cigarette burns. Cuts, deep and superficial litter everything, some already closed, some still weeping blood. There’s barely any smooth skin left.
“What happened to you?” Caretaker breathes, searching for answers in Whumpee’s terrified eyes. “Who did this?”
All the answer they get is a soft sob and a cold forehead hitting their shoulder as Whumpee falls forward and nuzzles into their neck.
Caretaker hugs them back, careful not to touch or press on sore skin, feeling their stomach churn when their fingers bump into more cuts along their back.
“I’m here now,” Caretaker whispers against their hair, tears of their own rolling down their cheeks, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, Whumpee. You are safe. You are safe.”
They stay like that until the bathroom is foggy from the warm water falling from the shower and Whumpee’s shoulders stop shaking, but when Caretaker helps them undress and oh-so-carefully cleans the wounds, there’s only drowsiness and chemicals behind the fear in their eyes.
They have no idea what they'll do once Whumpee comes to. Or what they'll do to whoever Whumper is if they get the chance.
-
Prompts from this list. Still taking them but I can't promise how fast I'll write it haha
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whumpy-writings · 2 years
Note
For the whumptober suggestions: i know we need to see some more of ria and establish her relations with Aldon, but i'd love to see him coming back to his tent/from the battlefield in bad shape, and it doesn't cross his mind to feed on Ria, so she has to propose it herself because, well, he's the only decent master she ever had and it would be a shame if he died and she ended up in the food tent again or whatever. But i feel it's good for a later story, after they had a chance to get to know each other
Trust
Whumptober 2021 No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed
Oh gosh, I love this! I decided to set this right after Aldon meets Ria.
Whumptober 2021 Masterlist / Of Vampires and Men Masterlist
CW: Lady whump, vampires, slavery, blood, starvation, bruises, drugs (vampire venom), whumpee turned caretaker, stern caretaker
Aldon returned to the tent just as the sun was breaking over the horizon. Ria was in the same chair, hugging her knees to her chest. Aldon quietly walked over to her. She was asleep. Aldon studied her for a second. She was skeletal, her cheeks sunken. The Lucian’s hadn’t bothered to feed their meal. There were bruises all over her neck and arms from feedings. Some were dark purple, while others had faded to a sickly yellow green. Her thin brown shift did nothing to hide the raw skin around her wrists and ankles, presumably from shackles.
“Ria,” Aldon gently said. The girl jolted awake, head slamming into the back of the chair. Her eyes were wide as they met Aldon’s, then she quickly looked down. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe,” Aldon said. His instinct was to reach out and check her head, but that did not seem like a good idea at the moment. She was trembling like a leaf.
“I brought you some food.” He pulled out the two apples he had found in the adjacent orchard. They were small and a bit wrinkly, but it was the only human food he had been able to find. The army’s supply wagons were still a couple days away. Ria eyed the food, then looked up at Aldon as if asking for permission. “Go on then,” he said. She reached out her hands and Aldon dropped the apples into them.
“Th-Thank you, Master” Ria said, bowing her head.
“It’s my pleasure, Ria,” Aldon said. He gave her a close-lipped smile. “It’s been a long night, so I’ll be going to bed. If you would like to sleep, please use the pillows and blankets. That chair can’t be comfortable. There’s water in the pitcher on the table.” Satisfied with his instructions, Aldon walked over to a cot, pulled off his boots, and promptly fell asleep.
Ria studied her apple. It had been days since she’d eaten anything. She took a bite. The apple was warm and mealy, but it tasted heavenly. She devoured it, eating everything but the seeds and stem, and then started on the second apple.
They had been at the camp for two days when the Lucians attacked.
Ria started as Master stumbled into the tent. His hand was on his side, black blood oozing. He only made it a few steps before he fell to his knees. Ria hesitantly stepped forward. What was she supposed to do?
“Ria,” he gasped out.
“Master… do you need to feed?” she asked, a knot in her stomach.
Master shook his head, at the same time wincing. “I’ll be fine.”
Ria took in the oozing blood, his face even paler than normal, the way his brow was furrowed in pain. His black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes were a bit glassy. Liar. He looked like he was on death’s door. If he died, she would be thrown back in with the rest of the humans, where she would be bit and bled and hurt again and again and again. Besides that, Master was ….kind. Something she never thought she would see in a vampire. She thought of the apples he gave her that first day. How even now he didn’t want to feed on her, even though he clearly needed to. She was fascinated by him. And by the gods, she wasn’t going to let the one decent vampire she had ever met die when she could prevent it. She walked over and knelt in front of him, holding out her wrist.
“This might be out of line but you really don’t look like you will be.”
Master looked at her in shock, eyes flicking from her face to her wrist and back again. He licked his lips.
“Master, please. It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated still, eyes locked on her wrist.
“Do you trust me?” Ria asked.
“I…” he started and then doubled over in pain, letting out a gasp.
“Yes.”
He took Ria’s arm, his hands shaking. He bit down, the sharp jab of pain distracting Ria from the possibility that she had made a mistake. Then the venom took effect and a fog of peace descended over her. Master drank hungrily. Ria’s eyes slowly closed, the venom and the blood loss forcing a deep seated fatigue on her. Gods, she was tired.
Ria awoke on a cot, a blanket pulled over her. Her head pounded and she winced.
“Thank the gods you’re awake,” Master said. She looked to her left. He was kneeling next to her bed, her hand clasped in his two. “I was so worried that I took too much.” He paused. “I-I’m sorry, Ria. I wanted to give you more time before feeding.”
Ria couldn’t contain her laugh of surprise. “No offense, but you’re the strangest vampire I’ve ever met.”
Master gave her a grin. “I think we’re going to be friends.”
Tag list: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy @the-monarch-whumperfly @aswallowimprisoned @secretwhumplair @whumpzone @whots-a-tag-precious @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @nicolepascaline @susiequaz12 @distinctlywhumpthing
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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years
Text
Nemesis - Part 8
This one is... something. I was supposed to be asleep hours ago. The sun has come up. But it was all more than worth it, and now I am going to pass out.
Based on votes from last time, option B was chosen-- speak to Leader and Hacker. There’s going to be a little flip in allegiances this time around, and some questions will finally be answered! The choose your own adventure aspect is going to be a bit different too, this time around, but more detail about that at the end.
For now, I hope you enjoy!
CW//Drugged whumpee, confusion, nightmares, past trauma, murder, strangled to death, minor body horror (shapeshifting)
The wave of cool water felt heavenly as it washed over Villain’s throat. Even as the movement exhausted them, they drank every drop as if it would be their last, and, when the last drop was at last reached, they whined.
“There you go.”
The voice felt closer, this time, coming from behind only one layer of fog rather than a thousand. It was close, just like the warm hand, wrapped around their shoulders, keeping them upright.
Everything was so warm...
“Hero... Hero warm...”
A slight chuckle replied to that, the hand on their back gently rubbing between their shoulder blades. Making them feel like they had blood, like there was something inside them other than dry ice.
They had been so cold, just a moment ago, mind spiraling with something... something bad. What had it been? Had it been anything at all?
Did it matter, now that Hero was here?
“Yeah. Hero warm. Are you warm enough?”
“Mhm.” They purred. The silk webbing wrapping around them, that which had once been uncomfortable, restraining, now felt so soft. They could sink into it forever...
“Do you need anything?”
“Tired.”
“You want to go back to bed?”
“Yeah. Hero stay...”
“Yeah. Yeah, Hero stay.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Hero.”
“Yeah. Goodnight, Villain.”
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The warm body in Hero’s arms, hardly recognizable beneath layers of fleece and fabrics, took only a moment to turn heavy and limp, breathing slowly until it was only shown by the slow rise and fall of their chest.
Even as exhaustion tugged at their own limbs, even as they wanted more than anything to curl up in those blankets themself, they knew they couldn’t. Hero couldn’t stay.
As gently as they could manage, given Villain’s limp weight, they laid their ward down on their side. The unconscious person murmured and twitched as the blankets were readjusted, but did not stir.
Villain was comfortable. Villain was safe. That was what mattered. Even though...
Hero took their phone from their pocket, flinching at the blazing screen light.
Seven in the morning. They had hoped to be able to claim a few hours of rest alongside Villain, but their own worry had made that impossible. Now, it was already morning.
Hell, they were supposed to be eating with their team by six thirty. Yet, no one had knocked to awake them, yet.
Hero hauled themself to their feet, limbs aching and joints popping all the way. They hardly registered the chill beneath their feet as they made their way to the door.
Only for it to nearly slam into them. They leapt backwards, barely catching themself.
“Oh, shit, sorry!” Leader’s wide eyes showed that they had been expecting Hero just as much as they had been expecting them. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, you didn’t hit me.”
“Good.” Their gaze cast downwards, to the item carried in their arms-- a platter of food. Fortunately, none had fallen.
“Is that for Villain?”
“No, dimwit. I don’t think they could get anything down if you forced it down their throat. This is for you.”
“Oh.”
“When is the last time you ate?”
“Um...”
“Lunch yesterday, got it.”
“It’s... Isn’t everyone else already eating?”
“They’re already done. I told them you needed your rest. Thought you’d prefer eating in here.”
Hero shook their head, pointing back at the snoring pile of blankets.
“Can’t wake them up.”
“Oh.”
“I can just, um, eat out there.”
“No, you’re going to-” Leader bit their tongue, reformulating their sentence. “Um, how about you come and eat with me in my office? I haven’t eaten yet, either.”
Hero was in no way used to such a delicately formatted request.
“Sure.”
“Alright.” Leader nodded, handing over the platter, which they gratefully took. The two moved out of the room-- the former taking surprising care to close the door gently, so as to not make any noise.
The common room was deserted, thank the heavens. There were no distractions as they moved to Leader’s office. The chairs still hadn’t moved since their discussion last night. Hero sat.
“So...” Leader maneuvered around their side of their desk, seating themself. “How did you sleep?”
“Didn’t.”
“Not at all?”
“Maybe a bit. I’m not sure. Villain woke up and...” They trailed off.
“And?”
Leader had no need to know of Villain’s words.
“I had to get them back to sleep. They drank some water, too.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” Hero perked their ears, hearing a noise beyond the office door. “I’m surprised that they’re leaving us alone.”
“I told them to.” Leader speared a chunk of scrambled eggs with a fork, raising it to their lips.
The events of last night came flooding back.
“What did you tell them? What did you tell everyone? I thought they’d have been all over me once they knew I came back. They do know, right?”
“They certainly wanted to bother you.” Leader swallowed the chunk of egg. “I didn’t let them.”
“So they do know?”
“Kinda.” They straightened themself, playing with the food upon their plate momentarily. “I told them that I came back last night, and found you here. As far as they know, you escaped on your own, and Villain’s whereabouts are unknown.”
“And they believed you?”
“I think they were just glad to know that you were okay. And, y’know, not dead. You’re probably going to get hounded with questions later, but, for now, I made it very clear that you’re to be left alone.”
“Thank you.” Hero spoke half-breathlessly.
“It’s not a problem. You’re officially relieved of mission duty until you’ve recovered.”
“R-Really?”
“You need to rest. Even if you aren’t injured, you’re exhausted.”
“Yeah...”
“So, until you’re feeling better, let me handle that.” They took another bite, making Hero note the fact that they hadn’t so much as looked at their own food. Even the thought of eating something made their stomach twist.
“Thank you.”
“Really, it’s fine. So... How is our, y’know, secret?”
“Villain?”
“Duh.”
“They’re... they’re fine, I think. Still out of it. But, like I said, I got them to drink some water. And they seemed to recognize me.”
“They didn’t recognize you before?”
“No. I don’t think so, at least. They were really out of it.”
“Are you ever planning on telling me what happened to them?”
Hero had almost forgotten that Leader was in the dark about the whole thing. Yet, they were being so trusting. Hell, they hadn’t even trusted Hero when they hadn’t been lying to them.
“Um...”
“You don’t have to.”
It was the first time they’d ever heard Leader string those particular words together.
“But, I would like to know. You need your rest, and Villain needs a caretaker. I was a nurse once, y’know.”
“You were?”
“I don’t know if your surprise should insult me. But, yes. I can keep watch over them while you sleep, but it would help if I actually knew what was wrong with them.”
“Yeah.” Hero scratched the back of their neck. “Thing is, um, I don’t really know?”
“Well, you said they were drugged, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know that for sure.”
“Do you know what with?”
“About that...”
Leader raised a brow.
Hero let their next words tumble out of their lips like a waterfall, unable to stop once it had begun to flow.
“Villain has been kept sedated to unconsciousness for the last year. They were supposed to be rehabilitated, but they were drugged instead. I don’t know why.”
Leader dropped their fork.
“Oh.”
“I don’t know what drugs they were given. Just that they were sedated.”
“I see. How did... How did they leave the rehab facility.”
Hero diverted their gaze.
“That’s not really important.”
A sigh.
“Okay. We can talk about that later. Thank you, for telling me. Was there... Was there a reason? They wouldn’t just be drugged for no reason.”
Hero shrugged helplessly.
“I don’t know.”
Leader bit their lip.
“With everything going on recently, I hesitate to ignore the possibility that Director had something to do with it.”
“You really think so?”
“Maybe. You aren’t planning on eating, are you?”
“I...” Hero felt their face flush. “I don’t feel too well.”
“That’s fine. I’ll clean up. You go get your rest, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll keep everyone away from your room. And, Hero?”
“Yeah?”
“Sleep in your own bed. I can keep an eye on Villain.”
“Thank you.”
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Collapsing onto their own bed felt like falling onto a cloud. The mattress curved, shifting to cradle their aching body. For a moment, Hero could not help but nestle themself in it, letting their pillow almost envelope their head.
Birds had long since begun their outside chirping, but that was inconsequential. At that point, Hero could have slept through an earthquake.
But, apparently, not through a phone call.
The ringing noise jolted them from their blissful repose. Without thought, their hand blindly searched for the vibrating device on their nightstand. They blinked against the screen’s bright light.
Hacker. A wave of relief filled their chest-- they were okay. Without thought, they accepted the call, placing the phone to their ear.
“Hero?”
“Yep. Hey, Hacker.”
“Oh, thank god you’re alright! Though you do sound a little bit like garbage.”
“Hey.”
“I’m just saying, just saying. Oh, you have no idea how worried I was. The news only just broke this morning. I could hardly sleep, last night.”
“I thought you were like, nocturnal.”
A stutter.
“I mean, you kept me up all day, so. You know how it is. But I’m just really glad. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. Just tired.”
“You must be. The news... that wasn’t right, was it? They said you escaped from Villain.”
“The reports are wrong. I never got captured in the first place. But, I’m just fine.”
“I’m glad to hear it. How is...”
“Villain?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine. Really out of it, but fine.”
“That’s good. Look, I know you’re tired, but I just found something that... Well, I think you’re really gonna want to hear it.”
“What is it?”
“Not here. Not over the phone. Too dangerous.”
“You want to meet up again?”
“Mhm.”
“Are you sure that’s, like, a good idea?”
“Not in public like before. That wouldn’t be good for either of us, I don’t think. But I know another place.”
“Oh?”
“It’s, um, so, this is gonna sound bad. It’s this abandoned warehouse thing. And I know that sounds sketchy as hell, but it’s fine, I promise. I’ve been to a few parties there. The underground kind of people use it a lot, so it’s perfectly safe.”
“Um... Okay. Where is it?”
“Ashworth, on the East side. It’s pretty obvious once you see it, but the number on it is 62.”
“You’re sure this is a good idea?”
“Yeah. It’s not exactly, like, it’s abandoned, but there’s parties there all the time. And it should be empty during the day. How fast can you get there?”
“Um...” Hero blinked with leaden eyelids. “Does it have to be right now?”
“I guess it could wait. Why?”
“I feel like I’m going to collapse. I’m exhausted, Hacker.”
“Oh. How about tonight?”
“Tonight is fine.”
“Does eight sound good?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay. Uh, sleep well.”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
And, with a collapse onto their pillow and the click of a hung-up phone call, Hero was out.
Yet, as they fell into unconsciousness, a single thought couldn’t help but worm its way into their consciousness:
Hacker hated other people. They wouldn’t be caught dead going to a party.
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“Villain?”
It was a soft voice, yet marked with a distinctively higher pitch. Villain stirred, kicking at their layers of blankets.
“Hey, Villain. Can you open your mouth for me?”
The voice was odd, yet warm. They blinked their eyes open, letting the world come into focus around them.
A figure, kneeled down in front of them. A face...
They knew that face.
Someone familiar. Someone they’d fought before...
Leader. Why was Leader here?
“You need to open your mouth for me, okay?” It was Leader’s voice, but not their tone. It shouldn’t have been that soft, right? Or maybe their memories were simply foggy.
Regardless, they allowed their jaw to fall open. The taste of plastic filled their mouth as an eyedropper was placed upon their tongue, followed by the bitter taste of medicine, sliding down their throat. Villain struggled to cough up the liquid, but their jaw was gently held in position until they had swallowed every last drop.
“There.” The taste of plastic retreated, disappearing as a few sips of water were washed down after. “Thank you.”
“W- What is...”
“It’s gonna make all that drug withdrawal easier.”
The face went out of focus, replaced by a black dot, in the center of Villain’s vision. A spoon.
“Can you look at this?” A fingernail tapped the plastic dinnerware. They nodded.
Slowly, at first, the spoon began to move. First left to right, then up and down, before moving around more erratically. After a few moments, Villain blinked, shaking their head, eyes exhausted.
“Thank you.” The spoon lowered out of view. “You’re gonna need a bit more time to recover, but you’re getting there. Do you want to go back to sleep?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay. Goodnight, hun.”
Villain let their heavy eyelids fall closed, barely registering as their blankets were tucked back in around their chest. Warmth enveloped them, mind wrapped in blissful heat, until...
Chill. An unmistakable chill biting their skin, nipping at their reddened nose. They blinked, rubbing their eyes with one hand, the world around them taking shape.
Taking shape...
Taking the wrong shape.
Where were...
They blinked once more, their surroundings coming into focus. Far more focus than their vision had permitted them in a very, very long time.
The building before them was large enough to block out the sun.
It could only be described as a brick-- that was what it was, a brick of concrete, marked by little more than faded graffiti and tattered signs that may have once warned against trespassing. The only marking that remained clearly visible was the number-- the building number, sticking out in brown-painted metal.
62.
Villain felt bile rise in their throat. They knew exactly where they were. The car they’d used to get here was only a minute’s walk away. They needed to get to it, to run, to turn and leave as fast their legs would take them. This was it! Their second chance! Their chance to leave, to make everything right again. To unmake the decision that had ruined them.
But they could not turn. Their legs would not move under their command, instead, alien limbs began to move forward. Towards the building’s entrance.
No, no, please no!
They needed to turn, to leave, but...
They did not have the power to make that decision. They could only watch.
Why had they been here in the first place? All that time ago... To confront someone. To find Supervillain. They’d done something. Hurt someone, maybe?
Panic twisted their thoughts far too much to allow them to focus on such far-away memories. The panic of moving, moving eternally forwards. To the entrance, through the doorway.
Into the warehouse.
Inside was terribly dark, small slivers of light illuminating only an expanse of boxes long since left abandoned, their cargo doomed to rot. They had never understood why Supervillain spent so much time here. Certainly they could have found a better hideout.
But, Supervillain was strange. No one understood them.
They were here, though. Villain could feel them, hear heavy breathing, sense the way their presence disrupted the psychic landscape around.
Villain stilled.
Leave. Turn around. Go! It’s not worth it, they begged themself. But...
But their hand reached for their pocket, producing a phone in trembling hands. They tapped the screen, activating the flashlight, flooding the concrete floor with illumination.
However, they hardly needed the light to remember what came next. The image would never leave their mind, they were certain of it. Never remove itself from where it was burned irreversibly into their corneas.
One figure, leaned over another. Holding them to the ground.
Hands over their neck.
If Director had at any point struggled, their straining had long since ceased. The only sign of life they displayed came in the way they weakly kicked against Supervillain’s unyielding grip.
Villain was not the one being strangled, but they could not breathe even so.
“Who the hell is there?” The voice, that furious, terrible tone, echoed off of every concrete wall and rotten crate.
Supervillain looked up from their victim, gaze meeting that of their newfound witness.
“Who!”
Villain’s legs went stock-still. They could have run, at any point, they could have run, they could have run.
But...
Director stopped struggling. Supervillain stood, rolling out their shoulders.
For a moment, their body twisted, snapping and curling in on itself. Bones morphing, shrinking or extending, muscles rearranging themselves in a horrible scene.
Villain had forgotten just how horrible it was, to watch Supervillain use their powers.
When, at last, their transformation was complete, Villain was staring back at the living face of Director.
Cold, grey eyes met theirs.
“Villain?”
Supervillain, the new Director, grumbled, moving over to the corpse of their victim. Prying a walkie-talkie from their belt.
Holding it to their own mouth.
“Hello, HQ? I’m going to need some backup, here.”
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Inside the warehouse was terribly dark.
Hero’s legs felt nearly numb, wandering within, only the slightest slivers of light able to creep in through the door. They walked by those shreds of light, though they hardly did so much as allowing them to see their own feet before them.
Still, they walked. The building smelled terribly of rotten wood.
“Hacker?” Their voice echoed off of every concrete wall and rotten crate. “Are you here?”
“Over here.” The voice called from the other side of the building-- how had they gotten all the way over there?
“Where? Is there a light in this place?”
“It’s been abandoned for half a century. No, there are no lights. Doesn’t your phone have a flashlight?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Hero fumbled in their own pocket for a moment, taking out the device. Even with the flashlight, however, the darkness still seemed to envelope the whole world. They cast the beam of illumination around, scanning, yet finding nothing but crates and graffiti. “Where are you? I can’t see you.”
“Here.”
A figure stepped out from behind a support beam. Hacker’s small frame looked even more minuscule, surrounded by crates twice their height. They were half-hidden by an oversized hoodie, yet, their hood was not pulled up.
They always pulled their hood up.
Hero shook their head. They were being paranoid.
“I’m so glad to see you’re, like, alive.” Hacker smiled, approaching at a quick clip. Their laptop bag was hung across their chest, bouncing with their movements. “You aren’t hurt or anything, right?”
“No.” Hero shook their head, moving forward to meet their friend in the middle of the building. “I’m okay.”
“That’s too bad.”
“What?” Hero rubbed an ear-- had they heard wrong?
“I always heard you were a fucking idiot. Guess I just never realized to what extent.”
That... That was not Hacker’s voice.
Hero took a step back, a chill filling their chest.
Hacker’s form quickly began to fill their formerly oversized hoodie as, below them, their legs extended with a horrid noise of cracking and popping. Their facial features did the same, shifting as though molded in putty.
Director was taller than Hero.
Hero gulped.
Director took a step forth-- polished shoes clacking against concrete. How had Hero not noticed the shoes? Hacker would never wear something like that.
They...
Director held out a hand. To shake.
Hero raised an upper lip, baring their teeth.
“Where is Hacker?”
Laughter echoed against the walls.
“That’s what you’re worried about, right now?”
“They’re my friend!” Hero stomped. “And a civilian. Don’t bring them into this.”
Director smirked.
“I assure you, your friend is fine.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Well, right now, you’re going to have to.”
Hero took another step back, turning to run, already feeling their heartbeat elevate to a quick tattoo in their throat.
But...
There was nowhere to go.
“I didn’t bring you here for no reason, dear.”
There must have been a dozen of them, if not more. A dozen figures, scattered in loose formation, blocking the entrance. Surrounding them.
Hero spun back around. They were there now, behind Director, too.
And they knew every last face. Every reformed villain. Every rehab center graduate.
They gulped.
“Now.”
Hero didn’t realize how close Director had gotten, not until they laid a massive hand upon their shoulder.
“We are going to talk.”
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Thanks so much for reading! This time, the choices are going to be a bit different. In the way of, there are no choices! At least, none that I am coming up with. You guys have given so many amazing suggestions in the past, so I thought, how about you suggest what happens next in our story.
Instead of giving you guys choices, its up to you to decide what our Hero will do next. If you really like another person’s suggestion, you can vote for it! Otherwise, I will choose what I find the most interesting.
I’m hoping that this will be fun. If it proves to be difficult/complicated/etc, I can certainly add choices, but I thought I’d do something a bit different this time around ^^
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kaleidoscoprwriting · 3 years
Note
Hello! I was wondering if you have any ideas for two or more caretakers taking care of one whumpee? I also would like ideas for Detective Caretaker and a Doctor Caretaker (or the other roles like whumpee and whumper being a detective or Doctor)
Doctor Whumper
- Doctor Whumper using medical knowledge to hurt Whumpee. They know what will give the most pain, and exactly how far they can take it before Whumpee bleeds out. They torture Whumpee with surgical precision, using the same tools they normally save people with.
- Maybe Doctor Whumper justifies their whump to themself by saying that saving people's lives gives them the right to end just one. They guilt Whumpee for not wanting to suffer, telling them that they have every right to hurt someone who's done nothing to help society, shaming them for not being as good a person as Whumper.
- After escaping from Doctor Whumper, Whumpee has a debilitating fear of hospitals, which is a great hindrance to their team trying to get them to one to save their life.
- Doctor Whumper with an expansive understanding of medicine keeping their patient Whumpee drugged so they can't object to being kept in the hospital for far longer than necessary. Whumper is a trusted doctor in the community, so nobody feels the need to check on Whumpee.
Doctor caretakers
- General medical care, like checking Whumpee's pulse, giving them more blankets, etc.
- Doctor Caretaker reassuring Whumpee when administering medicine, or comforting Whumpee who's afraid of needles: "It's okay, dear, you'll just feel a small pinch in your arm. Try to relax your muscles."
- When I was getting my wisdom teeth removed one of the doctors offered to hold my hand when they were putting in the anesthesia. It helped.
- Doctor Caretaker was hired by Whumper just to make sure their prisoner doesn't die, but they are shocked at what Whumper puts Whumpee through, and secretly vow to help Whumpee escape.
- Workaholic Whumpee claims they're fine, they're not sick, but even if Caretaker wasn't a doctor their bad condition would be obvious. Caretaker insists they take a few days off and let them take care of them.
- Doctor Caretaker is used to seeing people in bad condition, so they're able to stay calm and help badly injured Whumpee without any panic getting in their way.
Doctor Whumpee
- Stitching up their own wounds, or instructing their team member on how to stitch up their wound. They have to stay conscious through the pain because they're the only one present with medical knowledge.
- Doctor Whumpee taking care of their own injuries due to a fear of hospitals or of depending on others, but eventually having to go to a hospital. By the time they admit they can't do it themself, they're too weak to reach for the phone, but their friend finds them in that state and immediately calls them an ambulance.
Multiple caretakers
- Two caretakers trying to help Pet Whumpee recover. One is very direct, telling Whumpee that they're a human, they're not in danger anymore, and the other tries to ease them away from their old life, wanting to slowly introduce them to things like sitting on furniture instead of the floor and talking, so as to not scare them.
- Caretaker A is more emotional and Caretaker B is very stoic and hard to rattle. Caretaker A can connect with Whumpee and is good at calming them down, but when they start getting overwhelmed, Caretaker B steps in. Whumpee is worried that they drove Caretaker A away, but Caretaker B promises they'll be back soon. (Bonus: Caretaker A gets injured or goes missing, and is unable to come back, and Whumpee feels personally responsible.)
- Caretaker A focuses on security, making sure that nobody gets in and hurts Whumpee, that they have enough food, etc. Caretaker B is more intimate, giving Whumpee medical attention, listening to them talk about their pain when they're ready, helping them with tasks they have trouble with, etc.
- After Whumpee is healed, Caretaker asks them to help rehabilitate a new whumpee. :)
- Two caretakers, one of whom is secretly whumping Whumpee behind the other's back. Whumpee thinks that both of them already know. Caretaker is confused as to why Whumpee is still afraid of them when they're "safe." What will caretaker do when they find out?
Detective Whumpee
- Whumpee was investigating Whumper, and thought they came across someone who was willing to share information, but it turned out to be a trap set by Whumper! Whumper wants to make an example of Whumpee so nobody else tries to expose them.
- Whumpee is focused on a case so much that they neglect their needs, forgetting to sleep. In the middle of analyzing some letters, they pass out. Their agency tries to contact them a bit later, and eventually sends someone over to check on them, who realizes that they've passed out.
- Detective Whumpee who was captured by Whumper and eventually forced to use their skills to expose anyone trying to overthrow Whumper. The guilt constantly burns at them, but they're far too terrified of Whumper to disobey them, and there's no escape.
- Detective Whumpee held captive by Whumper is interviewing someone who turns out to be another detective, or just very observant, and realizes something is very wrong. Maybe, with outside support, Whumpee can escape. Or maybe Whumper just gets another prisoner.
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whumpshots · 2 years
Text
Whumptober #4
Trope of the day: “Do you trust me?” _
It really didn't look good. It actually looked pretty bad, if he was being honest. Bruises, scratches, burns and other wounds he wasn't able to make out on that shivering mess of a human being that had been brought in a few hours ago and that was now lying on his examination table.
Whatever had happened to that kid, it must've hurt like hell, that was the only thing he was sure of. The skin was pale from what he was able to see through all that blood and the bruised flesh, from old and new scar tissue that was like a puzzle. A sick reminder of what had happened.
“I'm just gonna clean you, okay?”, Caretaker said in the softest voice he could manage and put on his gloves after disinfecting his hands. The shiver became more violent when he reached out his hand and so he stopped in his tracks.
“It's okay, I won't hurt you. No one will do that anymore. You are safe now.” A shaky nod after a few seconds of silence and Caretaker relaxed his shoulders a little bit. “Let's start from the beginning, what do ya think?” It was at least worth a shot, he thought to himself.
Caretaker sat down on the small chair next to the table, took off one of his gloves and took Whumpee's smaller hand into his own. The other's hand was cold, thankfully his weren't. “I'm Charlie. I'm a doctor and I just want to look at your wounds to make sure they won't get infected. I will also try to help soothe the pain. You are in pain, aren't you?” A soft nod. “See. And I don't want you to be.”
And so he began talking to the other man, just random things that came to his mind, small stories about how it wasn't as bad as one thought to be treated by a doctor and that the other was so brave for enduring so much pain, but that it was okay to rest. To let someone help him stop the pain. At least the bleeding wasn't so severe so he could talk to him to let him warm up to him and the idea of being treated.
“You have been strong for so long. But now you can just rest. Let me take care of it, hm? I promise, I won't hurt you, no one will.” Silence. “Do you trust me?”
Silence. Whumpee seemed to think about this question, his eyes never leaving Charlie's hand that still held his. A small nod – that was everything Charlie needed.
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Text
Safe Haven, part 1
(this is the continuation of 12C!)
12C: Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6 |   Part 7 |   Part 8 |   Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |
Tag List: @deluxewhump @whumpinggrounds @yet-another-heathen   @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog  @killtheprotagonist @kixngiggles
Content Warnings:  immortal whumpee, lady whumpee, references to captivity and lab whump, malnutrition, dehydration, exhaustion, escape, caretaking, implied trauma, implied nudity
Author’s Notes: I really really hope you guys enjoy this one...I hope it’s as cathartic to read as it was to write. :)
I decided to start this next bit under a new title. The parts for the last one were getting excessive, and also this way even if my plans for the rest of it don’t work out, 12C is a complete thought.
As for the ‘escape plan’, I had more details of it in my mind but as I was writing it they felt...boring? So I cut the crap and kept it simple. Just trust that there was a plan and I’m just not a good enough writer to make it interesting. Besides, I wanted to get to the cute shit. :))
----
“You’re sure you know the plan?”
“Yes.”
“And...you’re sure you’re strong enough?”
“...I have to be.”
“That isn’t a yes.”
A huff lacking any real frustration. “Yes, Liv.”
“Okay. Two nights from now. Hang in there.”
----
The wheels of Liv’s cart are loud as they roll down the empty hallway, muffling out her sneakered footsteps. The sound also muffles her half-full water bottle falling from one of the shelves with a smack, and even if it weren’t for the cart, she’s got her headphones on, music turned up loud.
Liv comes to a stop at the door to the storage room. It’s unlocked, like always. She holds the door open with one hand and pushes her cart in halfway with the other. It’s then that she ‘notices’ her bottle down the hall, several yards away. Frustrated, she leaves the cart where it is and trudges to go pick it up.
When she returns, she only spends a couple of minutes in the storage room, restocking a few cleaning supplies so she won’t have to tomorrow. As she leaves the room and continues down the hall, she gives no indication that her cart has suddenly become heavier.
She gets into the elevator and heads upstairs to finish her final tasks of the night. This includes disposing of the garbage and hazardous waste she’s gathered throughout the night, putting utensils in a machine to be sanitized, and dumping linens from a hamper down a chute into a laundry room.
“Curl up tight,” she whispers as she tips the hamper. There’s a soft thud as more than just sheets and towels slide down the chute.
Liv finishes putting her things away, puts the papers from her clipboard in a file folder outside her manager’s door, uses the bathroom, and finally clocks out and heads to the parking garage. Calm, collected, seemingly lost in her music.
Heart pounding. Thoughts racing. Hopeful and terrified.
Her old but beloved little car sits alone on this floor of the dimly lit concrete garage. She throws her things into the passenger side before sitting heavily with a sigh in the driver’s seat. After a moment she turns on the car and begins the winding path up towards the exit.
As she rounds a bend she slows down a little...and remains slow for several moments until she hears her back door open and shut and a rustling as someone lies across the seat and burrows under a waiting blanket. She picks up her speed again, rolling down her window so she can swipe her ID card to get out.
Liv drives into the dark of night. It’s just past two in the morning, the roads empty, the traffic lights in town all blinking yellow. From the back seat she can hear weak, muffled breaths. When she looks at her rearview mirror, she can just make out the bundled heap trembling by the light of street lamps.
She waits until she’s a couple miles beyond the facility’s property before speaking, her voice hoarse from how dry her throat is.
“You okay back there?”
“...not sure,” comes Emmeline’s answer, fear and exhaustion palpable in her voice. “Do you think they saw anything?”
“If we did everything right, no...but I guess we’ll find out.”
Liv puts on an air of confident nonchalance that is so far from how she feels, but it’s for Emmeline’s sake. The risks have become so much more than a slap on the wrist. If they’re caught Liv will be fired and almost certainly arrested for theft of company ‘property’. But Emmeline...not only will she have to go back there, but she’ll be kept under such tight lock and key that any second chance of escape would be impossible, and Liv would no longer be there to even try.
This was their one shot, and all Liv can do is try to keep her panic at bay and hope they didn’t screw it up.
And take care of Emmeline, she thinks, glancing again at the mirror.
The drive home takes its predictable twenty minutes, give or take a few. Liv pulls into her spot beside a nondescript brick apartment building and shuts off her car. She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to breathe and pull her thoughts together.
It’s quiet from the back.
“Are you awake?”
“Mmhmm…”
That translates to barely.
“Not much further...then you can rest…”
The weight of that statement is too much for Liv’s tired mind to truly process, but it still briefly occurs to her just how big it is, just what it means. For the first time in months, Emmeline can finally, truly rest.
She goes to the back seat and helps Emmeline to her feet. Emmeline remains resolutely wrapped from neck to ankles in the blanket. Despite it being the old, scratchy one Liv keeps in her car in case of emergency, to Emmeline it’s so much more than she’s been allowed.
Standing there barefoot in the parking lot, Emmeline slowly looks up at Liv, strands of limp, messy hair hanging around her face. The single light on the side of the building illuminates her drawn face and although she’s weak, malnourished, exhausted...there is a grateful reverence in her eyes that no matter what happens, Liv will never forget.
Liv swallows and pushes down the lump in her throat. “Come on,” she whispers, putting her arm around Emmeline’s blanket-clad shoulders and guiding her towards the door.
----
Her apartment is tidier than usual; Liv made sure of that, even though she’s pretty sure Emmeline won’t care. Considering where she has spent the last several months, a jail cell would seem like an upgrade. But if Liv is anything, she’s self-conscious.
Emmeline looks around, blinking blearily after having barely made it up the single flight of stairs. She’s swaying on her feet and Liv ushers her to sit on the couch before she passes out right there in the middle of the living room.
Liv is running on adrenaline and fumes at this point. It’s all too surreal, like an out of body experience. Even after long hours spent thinking and planning, she never expected to get this far. But now Emmeline is here, in her apartment, sitting on her couch. Existing outside of the lab, real and tangible.
And she needs you. Get it together.
“I know you probably want to sleep,” Liv begins. Emmeline is still looking around the room like she can’t quite believe it either. “But you haven’t eaten, so...I want to get something in you first, if that’s okay?”
“Okay,” Emmeline whispers.
Liv moves slowly to the kitchen and busies herself with preparing something light and easy: canned soup, crackers, a mug of herbal tea with honey. Like in the car, she allows herself a moment to take a few deep breaths and will her hands to stop shaking before she picks up the plastic tray and carries the food back into the living room.
Emmeline hasn’t moved an inch, not even to relax back against the couch cushions. It isn’t quite what Liv expected...but then, what did she expect? For everything to be better the moment they got here? It isn’t all going to be okay overnight, she realizes. Give her time.
“Here…” Liv sets the tray on the coffee table and sits at the edge of the couch, leaving a few inches between them, not wanting to crowd Emmeline. “Um - chicken noodle soup. Saltines. Chamomile vanilla tea.”
Emmeline blinks slowly at the items before her. “I’m not dreaming. Right?”
“I hope not. Eating canned soup in my apartment isn’t a very exciting dream.”
A faint smile appears on Emmeline’s face. “To me it is…”
Liv holds the bowl of soup while Emmeline eats small spoonfuls of it and nibbles on crackers. She only eats about half before moving on to the tea, cupping the warm mug in her hands and humming with pleasure when she takes the first sip.
“Could I - “ Emmeline begins, but stops abruptly, ducking her head and taking another sip.
“Could you…?”
“Take a shower?” she asks almost inaudibly.
“Of course you can,” Liv answers automatically. “You can have whatever you need.”
Emmeline hesitates, still so frail and uncertain. “Just that is enough...thank you…”
Strengthened by her meal, Emmeline is able to make her own way to the bathroom. Beneath the blanket she is wearing a pair of nurse’s scrubs, stolen from the laundry room at the lab just in case a glimpse of her was caught on camera, though Liv meticulously designed their plan to avoid that. She sheds the clothes and Liv bundles them and the blanket into a plastic bag to discard tomorrow.
Emmeline disappears into the bathroom and a minute later the water comes on.
Liv is left sitting on the couch, finally alone with her fears and doubts.
I can’t believe I did that…
If we get caught we’re so fucked…
Does she even want to be here?
What the hell do I do now?
She grabs the tray of dishes and hurries to the kitchen, where she actually washes them instead of pushing it off to tomorrow, just to distract herself. When that task is done too soon, she goes to change into pajamas and find something for Emmeline to wear.
She’s unfolding and refolding the clothes for the third time when the water shuts off. Just as Liv is standing to bring her the clothes, the sound of the shower curtain moving aside is followed by a cry and a loud thud.
Liv darts to the bathroom, everything else forgotten. She enters without knocking, her heart in her throat.
Emmeline is sprawled on her side on the floor, grimacing. One leg is hooked over the edge of the tub and it quickly becomes apparent that she slipped.
Not attacked. Not passed out or dead. She just fell. It’s okay. It’s okay.
At the sound of Liv entering the room, she rolls onto her back with a groan, revealing a bruise on her hip that slowly starts to heal as soon as the pressure is removed from it.
“Ow…”
“Shit...I forgot to put the bath mat in,” Liv mutters, embarrassed. No wonder Emmeline slipped. She crouches beside her and offers her arms for Emmeline to hold onto.
“Not your fault,” Emmeline answers quietly as she slowly gets to her feet. “I got dizzy…”
The moment Emmeline is standing she sways into Liv, leaning heavily against her before her legs can give out again. Liv freezes, acutely aware of the pressure of Emmeline’s body draped against hers, soft and clean, so weary, so in need of comfort.
All of those evenings Liv spent watching her suffer, wishing she could hold her, touch her gently, stroke her hair...now she has the chance, not a camera or another soul in sight, and she can’t move, can barely think. Not when Emmeline has her head tucked against Liv’s shoulder, breathing soft breaths against her neck.
Liv reaches blindly to her side until she finds a towel hanging on a hook beside the shower. She puts enough space between them to wrap it around Emmeline’s shivering form but remains close enough to steady her. By now Emmeline looks like she might fall asleep where she stands.
“Sorry,” Emmeline whispers, her drooping gaze fixed on Liv’s shirt. “I got you wet…”
“Shh. Don’t worry about it,” Liv answers quietly. “Come on…”
She guides her the final few feet into the bedroom and helps her into soft cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt. Then she pulls back the covers - freshly washed sheets on a freshly made bed, another thing she made sure of - and motions for Emmeline to get in.
“A bed?” Emmeline breathes. She runs her fingers over the sheet with a look of wonder.
“Mmhmm,” Liv affirms, lips pressed together. She’s afraid if she opens her mouth to speak she might cry from the sudden well of emotion at finally being able to give this to Emmeline, this comfort and safety she so deserves.
Emmeline slowly lies down on the bed, letting out a long sigh of relief when her head comes to rest on the plush pillow. Liv pulls the covers over her and tucks them around her snugly. She barely resists planting a soft kiss to Emmeline’s damp hair. Barely.
“Goodnight,” she whispers.
Emmeline is already fast asleep.
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whatiswhump · 3 years
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Favourite whump blog ever!!! Would you write a piece about being involuntarily committed to a psych ward, with the whumpee being defiant and the caretakers genuinely trying ti get them help. Again love your work can't wait to read more!!!
I LOVE THIs ask but it took me a while to get around to it :/ Please accept my apology on the wait
--
CW: Self harm/suicide attempt mentions
“I KNOW THIS! I KNOW I AM CONFUSED. But PLEASE, please just stop!” The young man screamed as he lunged away from an outstretched hand.
Tears streamed down his face and his bare feet were bluish against the cold tile.
“Alec. Come on. Calm down now Alec.”
“NO! Stop saying that to me!” He backed up into the cinderblock wall.
“Alec, don’t make this difficult.”
The young man faltered. At that moment all three orderlies jumped. His cry was snuffed short as he collided with the floor. He struggled. He always struggled.
They pinned him long enough to prick him with a needle. The sticky molasses entered his veins and they were able to heave him back up, head lolling, and dragged him to a quiet room.
-
Two men, one in a suit, the other in a doctor's coat strode down the hall together to stop outside a window.
“You see Mr. Elliott, your son is extremely volatile and violent. This is the third time so far this month that he has had to be restrained.”
A flicker of pain flashed through the man’s face but was hidden as quickly as it came, “That’s no longer my son. The last time I saw my son was when he was ten and I dropped him off at school.”
The doctor faltered, “Um, yes what he experienced can change a person to be unrecognizable.. But we need to discuss the plan of treatment. Clearly, nothing we have done has helped yet. Maybe we can get him back yet”
“Do what you see fit, doctor. I don’t have time to keep coming down here to check on him, and it’s just too hard on the wife. She can’t stand to see him at all anymore. I don’t like seeing what this is doing to her.” He nodded to the prone figure struggling on the bed in the otherwise empty room they were looking into as if this were just a situation at work that needed to be done away with.
“Well, um, yes, if you would prefer for me to call you with updates, that can be arranged?”
“That won’t be necessary. Please don’t bother me unless something goes wrong.” The man grimaced slightly.
“Very well sir, you can trust that we will do everything we can to keep him safe from himself and others.”
“Has he been hurting himself?” Interest ever so slightly piqued.
“Well yes, he has attempted self-harm in the form of overdosing on stolen medication, as well as a few weeks ago he made an attempt to slit his wrists.
The man shook his head and looked down, “S’not the son I raised.”
The doctor opened his mouth to respond but was at a loss, eventually settled for, “Yes, he’s ill, but there is hope for recovery.”
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