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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 1 year

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I saw you were taking whump requests!! Could you maybe do something where Whumpee is injured but is still trying to go on missions so Caretaker has to sedate them for their own good???

Sorry this took so long. I've been working on a book and all my time goes into 1) my job and 2) the book, which for the time being is an unpaid second job. But here it is at last!

Let's sedate some whumpees!!

cw // sedation w/ fade to black, sedation for whumpee's sake, dizziness, referenced past physical trauma (broken bones, beating), medical language, bad(??) caretaker

(as always, please let me know kindly if there are tags I miss and I will add them)

"Any questions?"

Leader crosses his arms and watches the team digest the mission plan. Silence doesn't settle over the room so much as turn in restless circles like an anxious dog.

Everyone wonders if they should be the one to speak up. Of course there are questions. Or, at least one. Only one that matters.

Is Whumpee really coming along?

No one looks at Whumpee, sitting straight-backed in their seat, arm free of its sling a week too early. The bruises on their cheeks and neck are long faded, but under a careful eye, a yellow tinge still lingers beneath the surface. Stitches weren't enough to make up for the small chunk missing from their bottom left, leaving it misshapen. Thanks to Healer's handiwork, Whumpee is in much better shape than they could be (or should be), but no where near completely healed.

Leader looks at each team member one by one. One by one, they feel his gaze, and Leader watches every pair of eyes drift toward Whumpee's chair. This plan hinges on everyone playing their part to the letter. No room for screw ups. No room for weak links.

Healer bounces a knee beneath the table. In the cool light, her eyes flash almost threateningly.

Finally, Leader looks to Whumpee, who returns his gaze with unwavering determination.

"No questions," they say, as resolute as a charging chariot.

The team is dismissed to prepare for the mission at hand. In the hallway, Healer catches Leader by the crook of his arm, her fury barely reined.

"You cannot be serious."

Leader looks down at Healer's hand, raising an eyebrow. "About?"

"Don't you dare." Healer's voice is more than angry. It's vengeful. "Whumpee should never have been in the field in the first place. They weren't ready and you knew it. But you sent them anyway."

Leader wrenches his arm free. Rather, Healer lets him loose. She can't stand to touch him anymore.

"Whumpee has skills I needed to utilize. What happened was a terrible accident--"

"They were almost killed."

Leader huffs something almost like laughter. "I'm not the bad guy here. We all know the risks. This is a job like any other, and if they can't stand the heat--"

"Listen to me. Whumpee's bones are barely healed. They haven't passed a single stress test since....since it happened. They're too weak to be of any use." Harsh, maybe, but Healer can't afford to be sensitive when Whumpee's life could be on the line. "If they get into trouble, there may not be any getting out. Not like last time."

I may not be able to fix them like last time.

Leader walks away but Healer is right on his heels. "Their role is a stationary one," Leader says, unperturbed. "Very little chance of trouble finding them from a surveillance van. If they want to back out, they need only say the word."

Fury ablaze, Healer steps in front of Leader, blocking his path. She ignores how a dangerous look flashes across his face. "Whumpee would step in front of a moving train if you told them to. To prove that they could. To make you proud. Don't you dare take advantage of that. They are not your soldier."

More than his usual annoyance, the new look on Leader's face puts Healer at unease. But she stands her ground, refusing to step aside. It's not a look of anger, of indignation at her disrespect. It's thoughtfulness. Like he's just been handed a fun new toy. Like he can't wait to see what it can do.

"Loyalty," he says, and the way the word rolls off his tongue makes Healer's stomach drop, "is a valuable gift. To give, and to be given. Whumpee's loyalty makes them an incredibly important asset to the team....and you're right, Healer. You're absolutely right. Whumpee should be safeguarded, given time to heal and regain their strengths. Effective immediately, they're suspended from the mission."

Healer can't find it in herself to be relieved. There's a caveat coming, she can feel it.

Leader lays a heavy hand on her shoulder, and her stomach drops. "We'll be leaving in an hour. Best give Whumpee one more check up, don't you think?"

Excitement runs hot and electric through Whumpee as they practically run to the medical wing. Time for another mission, but more than that. A second chance.

They knock on the examination room door, but don't wait for permission to enter. At this point, this room is as familiar to them as their own quarters. They've spent the better part of a month inside these sterile white walls under Healer's masterful hands.

Healer works at the counter, her back to Whumpee.

"You can't seem to get rid of me, doc!" They hop on the examination table, jarring their sore arm, but they don't let on how much it hurts. They've been practicing.

Craning their neck, they try to peer over Healer's shoulder but can't catch a glimpse of her work. Their thoughts swiftly drift to the mission, and their eyes to the anatomical posters hanging around the room. Skeletal system, nervous system, muscular, endocrine. Diagrams of the human brain. Healer had shown Whumpee what was happening in their body when she healed them from Villain's beatdown, how her powers combined with the medicine she prescribed facilitated almost miraculous repairs.

"Whip up some of your magic so I can get out of here!" Whumpee pinches a corner off the paper covering the exam table. "I still need to get my things ready. Lots to do. I didn't pack enough snacks last time. Or gauze." They shake away the memories. This time, they'll be more careful.

"I just want to make sure you're all set for field work," Healer says. Something clatters on the counter. "Can't be too careful."

Whumpee slowly flexes their sore arm, rolling their eyes. If there's one thing they've learned about Healer through all this, it's that she's inhumanly thorough. No stone unturned, no ailment untreated. Her attention to detail combined with unmatched empathy made her a good medic. The best Whumpee has ever seen, actually. And she tells it straight, the good and the bad, no lies to spare your feelings. Whumpee knows her tough love is the real reason why they've healed so quickly from the worst beating they've ever survived.

"Leader seems to think I'm ready to get back out there. I've got an important role in the plan. You heard him, he said--"

"Leader isn't your doctor."

Healer's voice was hard edges and ice. Whumpee had heard that voice before, usually when she found out that they'd been negelcting physical therapy. Whumpee felt themself shrink a bit in their seat, disappointed to have been a disappointment.

Healer exhales a slow breath, her back and shoulders deflating until she, too, seems smaller where she stands. "But…he believes in you. You've made a lot of progress. I'm very proud of you. You’re gonna do great."

Healer turns around and walks to where Whumpee, ever the model patient, sits on the cushioned table. In one hand she holds a bottle of water, and in the other, she pinches a small paper cup between her fingers. At the bottom, two blue tablets lay like pale snapdragon petals.

She holds out the water and cup. "Down the hatch."

"What's this?" Whumpee asks, but takes both from her.

Healer adjusts the pillow at the head of the table, hair obstructing her eyes. “Pain relief.”

Easy enough, Whumpee knocks the pills back. With the water, they go down smoothly. “That’s it then?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Thrill rushes through them. Back in the field. Another chance to prove their skill. Their capability. Their worth.

Leader believes in me, they think. Healer is proud of me. They don’t know which is the sweeter thought.

They jump from the table, mind already back in their room, gathering up what they need for the mission. No sooner do their shoes touch the tile floor than that shock of thrill turns cold, then fuzzy warm, and then the lights are too bright. And the room is tilting.

“Woah—”

Their knees buckle beneath them. They reach for something to catch but it’s too late. They’re already falling and the world is out of reach.

Strong arms scoop them up. “Easy does it.” Healer’s voice.

“Healer, I…I feel…”

“I know.”

Grotesque diagrams of flayed human bodies warp beneath the harsh lights. There is something here, in this room where safety could once be trusted. Something wrong.

The horrible images all slide away, replaced by a cold, rectangular sun. Healer is somewhere, close and distant, laying them back on the table with arms too long. Softness embraces their head but Whumpee finds no comfort in it.

Half of what they mean to say is lost, butchered as it passes through the sieve of their tongue and teeth. “Healer...(help)...I'm...(feeling)...wrong."

“Shh, I know.”

Sharp metal gleams on the border of their sight but when they turn to see what instruments of pain and horror await, there are only blurred silver sheets where tables once were, and Healer’s sad eyes.

Then Whumpee understands. And they know they’d take ten broken bones over betrayal's deep, hollow pain.

Maybe there were real words on their tongue, or a scream, or a curse, but all that comes out is a high whimper—weak, pathetic, helpless—that follows them into sleep.

#heartwhump #whump requests #whump drabble #whump writing #sedation #fade to black #whumpee #bad leader #healer #whump betrayal #not sure if it's cool to tag with hero and sidekick but it's a hero setting so #hero whump #sidekick whumpee #bad caretaker #maybe???#betrayal #caretaker

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 1 year

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thinking about a Whumpee who has never known a kind touch. Or who’s been hurt for so long that they can’t remember how gentle human touch can be. But here is someone cleaning their wounds. Treating and bandaging them with touches so light that they could almost mistake this for care. It is a sensation so surprising, so sweet, that all they can do is turn their head and gaze into Caretaker’s face in wonderment as something like bliss washes over them. Because they can’t be real, can they? And if they are real, they can’t be human. Caretaker pauses to look at them, a little taken aback by tear-brimmed eyes so wide, so adoring, that they actually blush, before returning to their delicate work.

#heartwhump #whump Drabble #Whumpee #caretaker #healing #treating wounds #implied abuse #not meant to be romantic but ya know #comfort whump

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 1 year

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Whumpee is usually very articulate. But under intense stress, they stutter badly and there’s no hope of getting control of it until they’ve calmed down

Whumper treats it like a little game. How badly can they make Whumpee stutter? What triggers it the worst?

One day, Whumper holds up a card for Whumpee to see. Sweat drips down their cheek, mixes with old blood. Handwritten on the card in uncharacteristically clear scrawl is one word: allegorical.

“If you,” Whumper taps Whumpee’s nose, “can say this,” they wiggle the card, “without messing up…I will let you go.”

Whumpee’s heart leaps in their chest. Cruel hope. Cruel mockery.

“I c-c-c-can’t—”

“Yeah, probably not, but don’t sell yourself short.” Whumper kneels in front of them, smiling with many teeth. “I believe in you. Best case scenario, you win, and I let you go. You get to breathe good air and see deer and whatever else you’re imagining right now.”

Shame warms Whumpee’s cheeks, like they’ve been caught in something perverse. Hope has become a forbidden fantasy.

“Worst case scenario…” Whumper pauses, absentmindedly folding the corner of the card while they think of a suitable consequence.

Whumpee swallows. “I st-st…” The game is already lost. They can’t even tame their tongue on a single syllable word. “I st-stay here?”

Whumper’s eyes raise without their head moving to follow. The effect is wolflike, predatory. A spark flies across them suddenly, the flash of an idea. Whumpee’s blood runs cold.

#ooh what happens idk #there’s a terrible scene like this in Pan’s labyrinth #that scarred me for LIFE #heartwhump #tmi but I stutter when I have panic attacks #it’s insanely hard to get a hold on it #like the harder you try to control it the worse it gets #stuttering #whump #captive #mocking #fear #whumpee #whumper #whumper dialogue #whump scenario #whump games

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 1 year

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Whumpee holds a lit match between their teeth.

“Be a doll and hold this for me, won’t you? I’ll be back for it.”

They’ve been instructed not to drop it or blow out the flame. But that’s becoming increasingly harder to manage as the flame eats away at the wood, inching closer and closer to Whumpee’s lips. Blindfolded, they feel its heat nearing their face.

Their frantic breathing nearly snuffs out the match with every exhale. The thick scent of gasoline, pooled beneath the chair to which they are bound, churns their stomach. They can’t breathe too slowly or too deeply, or they’re sure to pass out from the fumes and send the place up in flames. They can’t breathe too shallowly, or they’ll hyperventilate and blow out the match.

Which would be worse? To burn alive in the conflagration, or to snuff the flame and face Whumper’s displeasure? After all, there’s no telling if Whumper has left the warehouse, or if they’ve stuck around to watch the show.

#edited because I accidentally said Whumper instead of Whumpee in the first line #I’m alive it seems #heartwhump #whump #whump prompts #fire #fire mention #gasoline #matches #bound #blindfolded #Whumpee #whumper

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 5 months

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Hey all, just a general update.

I have quite a few whump requests sitting in my inbox, some started, some not. I’m currently writing a book and most of my day is taken up by my job then writing afterward. For some reason, I hold my whump writing to a weirdly high standard and spend a very long time writing each post. Since I’m aware of that, I don’t want to take away time from the work I’ve scheduled to do each day, and end up not working on whump requests altogether.

Additionally, I often find that immersing myself in whump damages my mental and spiritual health, and I’m making an effort to safeguard myself.

I’m not abandoning the requests I have in my inbox, and I’ll still reblog here and there, but I wanted to let you know why my response turnaround is delayed and will be continue to be delayed. For now, I’m closing requests so no one accidentally gets stuck in the indefinite queue :)

Thanks for understanding

#heartwhump #update

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 1 year

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“Everything without purpose ended in a pile in the waste yard.”

A line from my WIP I violently underlined and circled because it will definitely apply to one of my characters later on

#and I didn’t even know it until I wrote it #frick yeah we love that #whump prompt #heartwhump

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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Fun places/times for Whumpee to collapse

At the top of the stairs

In door frames

In the middle of a field

In the middle of a raging storm, without shelter

At the bottom of the stairs as they’re about to start climbing

At the feet of their Whumper

In Caretaker’s arms

In Whumper’s arms

With their back pressed to a locked door

On their stomach, straining up to reach the doorknob

In bed, sitting up too fast and their head goes light and their vision swims black

At the foot of their bed

Trying to get out of bed

Suspended by chains, so they don’t really collapse, they lose consciousness and just. Hang there.

In the middle of a time-sensitive task

Right before finishing a time sensitive task (so close)

Carrying Whumpee 2 to safety

Running from Whumper(s)

Leaning over the bathroom sink

Trying to focus on an approaching figure. Friend or foe? They’ll never know.

On the beach, face first into the waves

Knee deep in the surf. They can't hold out long enough to make it safely to shore

In the middle of battle, from a blow so fierce that they drop straight down in a rag-dolled heap

Part 2

#heartwhump #collapsing #collapse #whump prompts #chained up #unconsciousness #losing consciousness #two whumpees #head trauma

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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Fun places/times for Whumpee to collapse: Part 2

because you guys seemed to really like Part 1

In a crowd

In private, where there's no one to make sure they wake up again

At the dinner table

In a ballroom

In the middle of dancing. Does their partner catch them? Let them fall?

After resetting their own bones

In a window, after pulling themself through

On the way to their own execution

Lifting/Holding up something that could crush them and/or someone else

Holding up something that could crush Whumper....hmm

While donating blood to a blood bank

While being a blood bank...

Doing physical labor against their will

Right as they realize they've been poisoned by someone they trust

Fighting a fast-acting sedative, knowing it's no use

Leaning in to smell something but oops! it's chloroform

Accidentally sedating/poisoning themself

Coming down from a drug-induced high

Leaning against the shoulder of a stranger

#heartwhump #collapse #fainting #poisoned #sedated #drug mention #resetting bones #broken bones #physical exhaustion #whump #whumpee #whumper #blood bank #blood mention #blood loss

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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Request: whumpee scared of new caretaker :)

I live for this!! I especially adore new caretakers tending to scared whumpees. Give me that trope for days. Here's some concepts...

backing away when Caretaker steps toward them

maneuvering to keep a barrier, like furniture, between themselves and Caretaker

never breaking eye contact so they can read Caretaker’s intentions

never making eye contact, either because they’re too afraid or they’ve been trained not to by Whumper

waking up somewhere safe but unfamiliar, so they immediately hunt for weapons of opportunity -- fork, paperweight, a dense book, rock, chair, table leg, scalpel, shard of a mirror, glass cup, or vase

clutching whatever they find to their chest like a lifeline

Caretaker walking in to see whumpee holding out their strange weapon, trying to look bigger, more intimidating, as they stand there trembling

hiding under furniture when the door opens (good for physically small whumpees who can fit under tables, etc)

if they're bedridden, pulling the covers up under their chin or over their wounds

misinterpreting something caretaker says, even an innocent question about their wellbeing, or a request to see their wounds. Immediate begging or bargaining to avoid what they think is going to be more hurt

begging to be left alone -- "please, please don't, don't don't don't--" // “DON’T touch me.” // “I don’t need help.”

too scared to speak, the only sounds they can make are whines or heavy breathing

flinching, flinching, flinching

hard flinches. Jerking their whole body away from even the lightest touch

pulling away so suddenly that they bang their arm against the table, or back up hard into a wall

small flinches. In the fingers, at the corners of the eyes. Trying not to show fear but unable to control their instinct to pull away

hard, silent stares

defiant whumpees knocking water/food/clothes/medical supplies out of caretaker's hands

Caretaker taking a bite/sip of the food/drink first to show that there's no catch, there's no trick. "It's just soup. See?"

and when they finally start to trust Caretaker (or maybe they don't still, maybe the pain is just too much for them to refuse treatment any longer) absolutely melting under their touch

that delicious trope when Whumpee tries with all their might to be strong and keep it together. Their breath through their nose quickens and gets louder as the panic sets in, or the pain worsens, and they release the tiniest broken whimper

numbing salve pressed to their wounds. Whumpee crying in spite of themself, the relief is so soothing

#heartwhump #anonymous ask #whump #begging #implied abuse #implied trauma #Whumpee #caretaker #touch sensitive #touch adverse #flinching #whining #building trust

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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Heroes having their abilities ripped away and the ramifications.

A mind reader, who has only ever wished to be able to turn the voices off, feels they'll go mad in the silence. They're forced to face their own thoughts when they were always able to drown them out.

A teen who could speak with the dead can no longer see or hear their friend's ghost. They must relearn how to connect and interact with the living.

The telekinetic always used their ability for fun and convenience. The new effort they have to put toward everything, and the time they feel they waste, leaves them depressed and drained.

The pyrokinetic suffers a form of phantom limb syndrome, reaching out to connect with a life force that will no longer respond to their call.

The hydrokinetic, turns out, has always been afraid of being powerless and overwhelmed. It's just more obvious now that, for the first time in their life, they're at a very real risk of drowning.

A shapeshifter is forced to revert to their original form the first time in years. They're a stranger to themself.

#if you use a prompt pls tag me so i can see!!#heartwhump #whump prompts #hero whump #heroes #whump #super powers #whump community #powers #magic #abilities #magic whump

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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Request:whumpee scared of needles but they have to be held still and reassured cuz they must take em

Bonus points if it's a spinal tap or IV line or the 1st of many in a short period of time🤩👉👈

Needles! Hoo boy, let's go. Anon requested a drabble <3

cw// Needles, restrained, non-con drugging but it's for their physical well-being. (I'm not v confident in my whump tagging, so please let me know if I miss a major tag)

Whumpee can't focus on much, but through their swimming vision, they recognize the bag, the line, the hand on their arm, another on their chest trying to get them to hold still.

With a panicked cry, they rip their arm away. Pain explodes across their body and behind their eyes. Every movement, every breath, only causes pain, but they'll suffer it all to get away from the needle. If they weren't crying before, tears flow now.

The lights are too bright. They can't focus on anything for long before their eyes roll and their eyelids try to ease close. It's a fight to keep their eyes open, but if they give up, if they lie down, if they stop moving for even a moment--

They see the needle flash out of the corner of their eye.

"Get away!" they scream, because the hands are still on them and the world is too near and too loud, and they want to leave for where it's quiet and cold and dark, but they can't yet.

"Whumpee, stop!" Caretaker. Caretaker will stop them.

Whumpee hears someone say a long word that they'd never be able to repeat if they tried. Too many syllables. A sharp, curving word, like a rocking knife. That word is going in their veins.

"I don't want it." Several someones capture their ankles and straighten their legs even as they thrash. Whumpee's plea turns into a desperate whine. "I don't want it, please, please. Caretaker, please..."

"This is going to make you feel better, Whumpee, I promise."

Whumpee blinks through the pain and the blurring light, searching for Caretaker's face. On the edge of the too-bright blur, between involuntary, heavy blinks that are getting harder to open again, Caretaker's familiar shape and color appear.

As so many rough hands yank and pull, slipping Whumpee's ankles and wrists into padded restraints, and straps pin them down across the waist and chest, a soft touch passes through Whumpee's hair.

"It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

The gentle hand sifts through their bangs, soaked with sweat, and brushes them back. Lips brush the shell of their ear and whisper words Whumpee won't remember.

When the pinch in the crook of their arm erupts and sustains, lasting and lasting, and lasting, without release, and the ice fills their veins, Caretaker's whispers like white noise, a hand in their hair, and another hand rubbing gentle circles into Whumpee's chest, are the only things coaxing their mind's eye away from the needle stuck in their flesh.

Whumpee's eyes have shut, sealing them in the cool, quiet dark.

"You're going to be alright," Caretaker soothes as shock and exhaustion drag Whumpee into sleep.

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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"How are you feeling?" Whumper asks.

Lying on their back, Whumpee blinks a tear free. There are no words.

"That bad, huh?"

They feel pressure, then another flare of pain and hot blood as Whumper presses the knife into their side, agonizingly slow, until the blade is hilt-deep in flesh.

After hours of this, dozens of cuts strategically placed to minimize blood loss and maximize pain, Whumpee doesn’t have the reserve to thrash or scream. Their face contorts. Their eyes squeeze shut. It’s all they can do. A tiny, strangled sound bubbles from their throat.

Whumper holds the blade there for a long, long time, and breathes a sigh of wistful satisfaction.

"I love when you make that sound."

#i liveeeee #heartwhump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #sadistic whumper #immobilized whumpee #knives #blood mention #blood #exhaustion #tears #whump #whump dialogue #whumper #whumpee

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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@whumpwillow's dialogue prompt: "why won't you look at me?"

cw// lab whump, shock collars (chip implantation), implied torture, isolation, brainwashing, forced memory loss, descriptions of trauma response

Caretaker waited. They waited for hours in the tiny whitewashed room, staring at Whumpee’s empty cot.

Whumper had taken Whumpee hours ago, in the middle of sleeping hours, what Caretaker and Whumpee thought of as 'night'. The lights got turned off during that time, at least.

They were each awoken with a shock. A literal shock. Whenever Whumper or an assistant opened the door, the chips in their necks lit up with electricity, shocking them into immobility so they couldn't rush the door. The chips could do lots of things. They were used for lots of things.

Caretaker had been dreaming about blue water. About warmth on their shoulders, and light coming from...somewhere. Color. And a sweet taste on their tongue.

Memories. Memories they didn't even know they had anymore. Blurry, unfocused, and disjointed, but real. They had to be. There were so many colors.

Then the lights had come on, and the sweet taste was real and electric on their tongue as the door flew open. The colors disappeared with the dream, and Whumper disappeared with Whumpee.

Whumpee's raggedy blue blanket still lay in a crumpled pile where it had fallen from their shoulders when they were ripped from sleep and dragged away, kicking and screaming.

After a while of staring at it, Caretaker stood up and folded the blanket. They wanted it to be neat when Whumpee returned.

They held it up by the corners and folded it in half, then another half, then in thirds.

Then they froze.

They....they hadn't done that in a long time. They didn't even think about how to do it. Their hands just knew how. The realization was a comfort: that some fragment of an old life, even a small one, was still with them, buried somewhere, refusing to die.

With the blanket placed neatly at the end of Whumpee's bed, Caretaker returned to their own cot, knees tucked up to their chest. Back to waiting. There was nothing else to do.

A familiar jolt shot down Caretaker's spine. They groaned and seethed as every muscle locked up and burned under their skin.

The door opened. Whumpee fell into the room. Caretaker glimpsed Whumper's bemused smile before the door sealed again.

After a moment, they could move again. "Whumpee!" Caretaker gasped when they caught their breath. "Are you hurt?"

It was a bad question. Nothing good ever happened when either of them had to leave the room. And one look at Whumpee was enough to know that this time was different. Worse.

Whumpee's white shirt and shorts were soaked through with sweat, the thin fabric clinging to their skin. Mercy, their skin was as pale as their clothes. Thin blue and purple veins branched in places that they usually didn't show--ankles, thighs, the crook of the arm. Their hair was soaked with sweat. Deep purple bags hung under their wild, unseeing eyes. They'd been crying. Still were.

Whumpee shook all over, shivering, or terrified. Both.

But what terrified Caretaker the most was the eyes. They were cloudy, distant. They weren't Whumpee's eyes.

"Whumpee..." Caretaker said softly. They inched forward.

Whumpee flinched.

"Whumpee, it's me. You're alright."

Whumpee snatched the folded blanket, unravelling it almost manically, and tried to drape it over their legs and shoulders. Their hands shook so badly that the blanket kept slipping away.

"Here," Caretaker said, taking a corner of the blanket to readjust.

Whumpee flinched away so hard that they fell over, kicking away until their head hit the wall with a hard whack, their eyes still seeing something far away and terrible.

This wasn't Whumpee. At least, it wasn't the same Whumpee. What had Whumper done?

Caretaker wanted to hold them like they had so many times after Whumper did their worst.

"...why won't you look at me?" Caretaker said.

Whumpee whimpered, clenching and unclenching the blanket in their fingers like a child. "D-don't even know you..."

The lights shut off.

#heartwhump #whumpwillow #whump #whump prompt #brainwashing #isolation #caretaker #whumper #whumpee #memory loss #electricity #lab whump #experiment whump #implied abuse #shock collar #kind of #tw torture #implied torture #implantation

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 2 years

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“Can I see it?”

cw// referenced past abuse, self-harm, blood, conditioned whumpee. Whumpee misinterpreting Caretaker's intentions, partly inspired by pieces of this post

“Can I see it?”

Caretaker nodded to the shard of mirror that Whumpee wielded with trembling hands.

Whumpee felt every ounce of hope flee their heart.

Whenever Whumper asked that, they would just take whatever they got and turn it back on Whumpee. “Can I see that” meant “my turn”.

And if they refused to hand it over, and if they refused the other option, Whumper wrestled it from their hands and won anyway. Whumper always won.

Whumpee looked Caretaker over. They were so much more than Whumpee: stronger, taller, shoulders held back. A naturally commanding presence. What was Whumpee thinking? There was no overpowering them.

Whumpee's arms slowly lowered. They felt so silly now, so small. It was no use. This was only ever going to end one way. It always did.

Caretaker smiled, but there was tension in their face, a falter in the smile. Something lingered under the surface. Whumpee knew that look. Never trust a smile. They’d learned that lesson over and over again.

Caretaker held out a hand. “You're going to hurt yourself,” they said.

Nausea swelled in Whumpee's gut. Blood pounded in their ears.

So that's what they meant after all, then. Just like Whumper.

Whumpee tilted the glass. Light flashed off the surface, the edges colored like faux jasmine. Cheap. Easily broken. Whumpee saw their own horrid reflection, fragmented and obscured by the cracks and smears of sweat and blood from where they'd nicked their palms. Whumpee hardly recognized that face anymore.

Caretaker took a step closer. Their hand came nearer. “It’s okay. I can take it for you.”

"N-no. No, I can do it," Whumpee said.

Caretaker frowned but halted. "Okay. Okay, sure."

They held out their hand, palm up.

As their hand turned over, Whumpee saw the subtle undulating muscles, the twitch in their fingers. Expectant. Anxious. Eager.

No. No no no no no no.

Whumper always offered a choice. Whumpee could hand over to Whumper yet another means to hurt them, or Whumpee could take the reins and do it themself. There was never any telling which one would be worse.

Muscle memory and terror took hold, familiar puppeteers. Whumpee took a handful of rapid, frantic breaths to brace themself (Quick and easy, make this one quick and easy) before raising the shard and slashing it down the length of their own cheek, the blood spattering across Caretaker's open palm.

#heartwhump #whump #tw self harm #forced self harm #tw cutting #tw blood #sadistic whumper #caretaker #whumpee #whumper #implied abuse #conditioned whumpee #whump prompt #whump drabble

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