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#whumper turned caretaker
valcaira · 6 months
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Attention Whump Community!
Clogging disability tags is a massive problem that we need to address. Many tags, especially those surrounding permanent injuries, paralysis, vision loss and certain illnesses have become unusable due to being flooded with unrelated things. Yes, that includes your writing. Those tags are not for you. It's isolating, frustrating and depressing to try finding a community and other people who share your issues but all that comes up is whump, fandom shit, gifs, headcanons, etc.
I'm newly paralyzed. I have looked at many tags surrounding paralysis, trying to find support, a community, anything of people struggling with the same thing. Nothing. There's barely anything for us in the general disabilty tags. I am BEGGING you to understand and recognize how AWFUL it is.
So, I have a proposition. A tag you can and should use exclusively for disability content in whump writing. Not any other tag surrounding disability, lest you'll clog it up.
#disabled whumpee
It's tempting to use more specific tags, I get it. Due to being in the whump community myself I know #medical whump is already a tag. You have those tags. Use them. Don't use the disability tags. Don't clog up the few spaces us disabled people have.
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whumpd-up-kicks · 11 days
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A character who's been shot is captured by enemies/bad guys. They're bleeding badly, and their captors need them alive. The bullet is removed, and the wound is poured with alcohol and bandaged tightly - none of it is done gently, and, being tied up (and maybe gagged), they can do nothing but scream and cry out in pain while enduring the rough treatment.
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whump-bunny · 2 months
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Whumper overestimates how much torture Whumpee can take. The once-defiant Whumpee is broken and catatonic, not speaking or reacting to anything anymore. And Whumper isn't happy about it. Though they loathe to admit it, they liked Whumpee's defiance. It was entertaining. Whumpee was entertaining. With them not speaking anymore, Whumper realizes that they miss the sound of Whumpee's voice. The snarky little comments, the sarcastic jokes, the curses screamed in rage.
Now Whumper is desperate to get the old Whumpee back. They're being extra "nice," giving Whumpee medical treatment and food, anything to make them go back to how they were before. Anything to fix their favorite toy.
Because like it or not, Whumper doesn't have anyone else.
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jordanstrophe · 3 months
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Abandoned whumpee
CW: Whumper turned caretaker, injured whumpee, defiant, restrained, angst
[Previous] -- [Masterlist] -- [Next]
Whumpee awoke in their enemies infirmary.
An IV was pricking their arm and the lights were dimmed. They twitched as their wrist ached from the handcuff binding them to the bed.
"You're awake? I was getting worried about you." Whumper hummed, sitting by their bedside with a large cup of coffee. Whumpee shakily rose their hand as the handcuff clinked.
"This isn't necessary." Whumpee tiredly mumbled.
"My my, you've been awake for ten seconds and already making demands." Whumper chuckled. "But I'm afraid we're not on that level of trust yet, I can get you something for the bruise."
Whumpee tried to sit up, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. 
"I'm a w-wounded prisoner. It's not like I know my w-way around here-" Their voice hitched as their arm gave in as they collapsed. Whumper was quick to pull them up and put a pillow behind their back.
"Easy now, you're still healing. -And don't downgrade yourself, you could still pack a punch, I know how you were trained." Whumper scolded, fixing the blanket around them.
"How could you possibly know that." Whumpee squinted. Whumper ignored their question and waved someone over; they were handed something whumpee couldn't see from the bed. Whumper moved towards them whumpee tried to scamper as far as the handcuff could go.
"Hey! Hey, calm down. It's not going to hurt you." Whumper lulled, placing a plate with a full meal on their lap. "Look, it's just a peace offering."
Whumpee's face flushed with a hint of pink as they lowered their shoulders. Hospitality was the least they expected from their enemy's leader. "You're feeding me?" Whumpee tilted their head.
"Of course I'm feeding you. I saved your life, I'm not going to waste it all by starving you. Gracious, eat your dinner." Whumper scoffed. 
"This is dinner? How long did you sedate me?" Whumpee suddenly perked up.
"I didn't sedate you, you were exhausted. That's just how long you slept. Now eat, you'll feel better." They nudged, taking their wrist and putting a plastic fork in whumpee's hand.
"If I didn't know any better," Whumper chuckled, "I would guess your beloved team wasn't feeding you either-"
Whumper felt movement and grabbed whumpee's arm before they attempted to plummet the fork into whumper's neck. They glared at each other as Whumpee was panting and pouring with sweat.
"Sweetheart, that is a plastic fork you're holding." Whumper glared.
"I know. But it's got three sh-sharp points and that's good enough f-for me." Whumpee grunted, still attempting to stab them. Whumper grabbed their collar and yanked them mere inches away. Whumpee pushed and tried to back-peddle as whumper held their collar.
"That was a cute try." Whumper whispered in their ear. "But you don't have the strength to fight just yet, little lamb. Should have eaten first." They plucked the fork out of Whumpee's hand and released them. Whumpee fell back and winced, holding their wound as it pulsed. They could feel the stitches underneath their shirt, staying intact at least...
"You honestly can't believe you'll keep me here like this! I don't want to be here- I'm not your pet to tease!" Whumpee shouted at them.
"You're not my pet. If you want to be that way, then sure; you're like a lamb running for the cliffs that I have to keep pulling you away from." Whumper straightened their jacket and rubbed their neck.
"You're only keeping me alive so you can torture me later, I've told you from the start I won't ever give up my team-"
"-No." Whumper cut them off.
Whumpee suddenly quieted and closed their lips. "... What do you mean no?" They quietly asked.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, your head is so full of lies it sickens me to know what they've taught you! You want to know why I stayed by your side all day? You woke up throughout the night and cried yourself right back to sleep!"
"I wasn't crying!" Whumpee sobbed, covering their face and fell silent. Whumper shut their mouth and leaned back, realizing they had corned them. "I'm sorry. I uh ... I'll give you some space. I'll come check on you later." Whumper quickly stood. They craned their head back to see whumpee was now curled on their side facing away from them.
Whumpee flinched when they heard a "clink" as the handcuff fell off their wrist. It was a feeling of pure light and relief. It was a surprising gesture, even for the stunt they pulled with the now-revoked plastic fork.
This wasn't the ruthless enemy whumpee was expecting; whumper speaks as if they know more about their own team than whumpee does. If they got trusted enough to freely walk around, they would get to find their own answers deep in the core of their enemies base. 
 Perhaps this was an opportunity.
[Previous] -- [Masterlist] -- [Next]
@parasitebunny @starzabove @frog-hat-fa-ggot @morning-star-whump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @mommymarichatfurever​  @isita-torrrres @tobiaslut
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whumpsday · 1 month
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Catharsis #1: Talking
Masterlist
content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker
new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!
-
After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.
Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–
Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.
New email from RoboCorp Customer Support URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…
He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.
The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.
Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.
He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.
The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.
Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.
The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”
Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”
He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.
“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”
“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.
“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.
Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.
Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.
It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?
He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.
The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”
“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.
Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”
“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”
This wasn’t working.
Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.
“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.
Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.
He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”
“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.
Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”
“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.
Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.
The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.
The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.
But this wasn’t Cyrus.
“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.
Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”
“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”
At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.
“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.
Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.
He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.
“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”
The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”
It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.
Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.
The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”
Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”
“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.
“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”
“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”
“Like the number?”
“The number,” he confirmed proudly.
Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?
This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”
“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”
“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.
“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.
“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.
1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”
“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.
“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.
Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”
-
if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!
catharsis taglist:
@sowhumpshaped
@cupcakes-and-pain
@taterswhump
@softvampirewhump
@whumpspicelatte
@ladyblogofficialreporter
@whumpwillow
@not-a-space-alien
@a-crumb-of-whump
everything taglist:
@lilac-and-lemon-whumps
@t0rture-me
@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump
@pigeonwhumps
@the-scrapegoat
@whumpycries
@lonesome--hunter
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emptyrubbishbin · 2 months
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Forced Caretaker
A former whumper who doesn't want to help the whumpee, but under fear of death or punishment, they do. 
They begrudgingly attempt to relieve the whumpee of every minor ache and pain. 
They take a demanding approach originally but are forced to be softer when their attitude jars the whumpee and makes caring for them harder.
They notice when the whumpee is uncomfortable when no one else does and goes about calming them down/getting them out of the situation. 
They allow the whumpee to cling to them after an episode. 
Bonus points if the whumpee gets an attitude about it and rubs it in their face OR doesn't want their help and tries to avoid them. 
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whump-blog · 1 year
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Whump Art 9
Whumpee is safe, but terrified of his rescuers, or maybe he's still with Whumper, who is trying to be a better person, but Whumpee can't forget all the things Whumper did to him so easily.
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justbreakonme · 8 months
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The moment the whumpee watches the caretaker, the kindest, gentlest, most loving person they’ve ever meet, absolutely OBLITERATE the whumper is a trope I will never get over.
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veryspecificwhump · 1 month
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Whumpee whose love language is touch. As in, they need to hug or be hugged pretty often just to stay sane. Whumpee who's so touch-starved and desperate that they crawl up to Whumper after being torture and cling to their leg, begging for a hug, to hold hands, something
I can see this going four ways, with one 'good ending'. First there are the smug options. Creepy Intimate Whumper who'ss smug because they know Whumpee won't fight them about crossing boundaries anymore. Whumpee's just too desperate. Regular Whumper who's smug because Whumpee just majorly overstepped,and now they have an excuse to punish them. (not that they need one, but it's nice to have evidence that Whumpee "deserves it") Who remarks every time there's a pause in Whumpee's screaming that they brought this on themselves. Then there are the shocked options. Whumper who's shocked and angry that Whumpee would ask for such a thing, and punishes them. (spur-of-the-moment as opposed to planned) Who is genuinely disgusted by Whumpee's whining and is willing to torture Whumpee into never doing that again. Finally, Whumper who is shocked, confused, and the slightest bit sympathetic. They hadn't realized how much Whumpee needed (benevolent) physical contact. Maybe they're whumping for a job and their heart isn't in it, maybe they don't really understand how much they're actually hurting Whumpee, but they're just the tiniest bit guilty and they hold Whumpee's hand. (While muttering about how high-maintenance Whumpee is, of course) Maybe they turn into a Caretaker, or a Carewhumper at the least.
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kabie-whump · 2 months
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♡ Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation ♡
@febuwhump
Content: Kidnapping, blood, bondage, neglectful team, ransom, whumper turned caretaker
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"You might as well just let me go. They're not coming."
Whumper continues shuffling cards, not looking at Whumpee. "You keep saying that. How can you be so sure?"
"Your asking price is too high."
"Please. Don't try to tell me that your little team is broke. I know that's not true."
"They're not broke. But they won't pay all that just for me. They won't even pay half of that. You're wasting your time. And your chains." Whumpee looks down at their own body, at the way they're bound by miles of chains to the point where they can't move an inch. "Seriously, is all this really necessary?"
"I don't know what you're capable of, and I would rather not find out."
"Hm. Fair enough. Would you believe me if I promised that I'm harmless?"
"No."
"Worth a shot."
They go quiet for a while, the only sounds being Whumper's cards shuffling against the table and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor from Whumpee's injuries. An hour passes before Whumper speaks again.
"You really think they won't pay up?"
"Not for me. Maybe if you'd taken Leader..."
Whumper scoffs. "If I was powerful enough to capture Leader I wouldn't need to be taking hostages for cash in the first place."
"Yeah."
Whumpee's voice is getting softer and more slurred by the second. Whumper had noticed the change happening, but that last word was just pitiful. Whumper stands, going over to check on their hostage. They'd gone pale and the puddle of blood under their chair had grown significantly.
"You're not doing too hot, are you?" Whumper asks, squatting in front of Whumpee.
Whumpee shakes their head.
"At this rate you'll bleed out before anyone comes to save you."
"They're not coming," Whumpee says again, their voice still weak.
Whumper realizes with a start that Whumpee is tearing up. Not in the way that they did when Whumper had roughed them up for the camera. That had just been a pain response. This is genuine emotional distress.
"You're upset."
"Of course 'm upset, asshole," Whumpee slurs, the tears falling. "The fuck do you think I am?"
"Good to see you've still got your fire. But there's no reason to be upset. You're going to be fine."
"Fuck off."
"I mean it. Let's go over your options, hm? One: Your team comes for you and pays your ransom and you get to go home. Two: Your team comes for you, kills me, and you get to go home. Three: Your team doesn't come for you, and you get to stay here with me. You're going to survive no matter what."
"You told them you'd kill me if they don't come before tommorow."
"Yes, well, I was hoping to inspire a sense of urgency. Doesn't seem to have worked. I could kill you, I guess, but I'm starting to get the impression that you may be more useful then that. If your friends abandon you here, that may put you in a position where you're willing to give me some information about them. Saves me having to torture someone for it. Besides, one of my employees just kicked it so I'm in the market for new blood."
"You want me to... work for you?"
"Again, I could kill you instead if you're not going to be useful to me. I'm still deciding."
"I'd be a waste of resources. I'm not good for anything." Whumpee starts to shiver, the chains making soft clinking sounds.
"You believe that? Is that why you think they're not coming for you?"
Whumpee nods.
Something inside Whumper cracks just a little as they stare at Whumpee - pale and trembling with silent tears leaving tracks in the blood and dirt on their face.
"Alright. Let's get you stitched up. You're not bleeding out on my watch. I really don't have the energy to dispose of a body tonight."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Next >
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There were no search parties, no worried people looking for the whumpee- and the whumper didn’t know what to think about it all. The whumper had been hesitant to hurt the whumpee in the first place- it was their job, but it wasn’t a job they enjoyed. Slowly but surely, the whumper began to care for the whumpee, giving them more food, giving them warm blankets- they didn’t want to hurt someone that had been so hurt already.
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Whumper turned caretaker is such a good trope
And I don't mean a bad caretaker, I mean a good one; a kind caretaker that really tries their best to help whumpee for whatever reason
Maybe a caretaker that's a little out of their depth with this whole caring for someone thing, but they're trying
Maybe a caretaker that earns whumpee's trust only to turn around and do something that reminds whumpee that caretaker used to whumper. Then caretaker has to re-earn that trust all over again
Maybe a caretaker that really wants to atone for all the horrors they committed, but ffs why is whumpee so difficult
Maybe a caretaker that struggles because whumpee keeps looking at them like they are still whumper, and caretaker gets reminded of all the horrible things they did every time. The regret and shame threatens to eat them alive
Maybe a caretaker that was never a very good whumper to start with and is actually much better suited to caring for whumpee
Maybe a caretaker that is still a bad guy to everyone else but is super soft towards whumpee
Just whumper turned caretaker and all the chaos that comes with it
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Whump Prompt #1327
Submitted by Anon - thanks!
I’ve been thinking about a whumpee who in the eyes of everyone around them (or even society) is the bad guy. Like, their whumper paints them to be this villian in order to isolate them from society and keep them under their grasp. To add insult to injury, at the beginning the potential caretaker believes all the rumors and whumper’s narrative to the point that they contribute to whumpee’s isolation. They’re just so against whumpee, they’ll disagree with them, overthink whumpee’s intentions, etc. But they’re not that harsh with Whumpee compared to others so in whumpee’s eyes they’re the kindest person to ever exits, that maybe they’re worthy of an ounce of kindness.
And when Caretaker finally finds out the truth (either through them just slowly realizing the true relationship of whumpee and whumper or like an event that triggers whumpee) they have no idea how to care for whumpee knowing that they contributed to whumpee’s suffering and that they barely scratched the surface. So they just try their best instead of resulting to inaction.
But like here’s the catch, so far in whumpee’s eyes caretaker has been the kindest to them, so now whumpee worries about caretaker’s sudden change in actions. (Because they’re not use to comfort)
(Bonus points if their whumper was possesive and often result to physical action and soft words laced with malice. And that’s how caretaker normally comforts people, so they try the same with whumpee only for whumpee to slip into the thinking that they were wrong about caretaker and that they don’t deserve such decency.)
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jordanstrophe · 3 months
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Abandoned whumpee: Final 1/2
CW: Betrayal, team whump, whumper turned caretaker, assassination attempt, hurt/comfort, annggsst
[Previous] - [Masterlist] - [Next]
Whumper watched over whumpee all throughout the night. Whumpee would wake up, not remember where they were, then struggle until whumper soothed them back asleep.
Whumper knew the sleepless nights would catch up with them eventually. They downed a tall cup of coffee, hoping to stay awake until morning...
------
Whumpee woke up that morning staring wide-eyed at whumper fast asleep on the bed with them. "Hey." Whumpee spoke, testfully poked whumper's arm. They groaned, but remained out cold.
Whumpee climbed over them and touched their bare foot to the floor, they immediately felt something cold as they flinched. There was spilt coffee at the foot of the bed along with an assortment of papers. They were badly stained, any information whumpee could have gleaned were long gone.
A silver key was dangling from whumper's pocket. If whumpee couldn't find information here, then there would be something elsewhere.
They clutched the key and snuck out of the infirmary. There were guards patrolling the halls as whumpee ducked around the corner. They let the guards pass, before slipping into the hall behind them. Whumpee tried every door they passed, all locked tight and the key fit none of them.
There was one last engraved door at the end of the hall. Whumpee heard the guards coming back around as they trembled and kept missing the keyhole. There was a silent *click* as the door swung open. Whumpee jumped in and shut the door behind them, taking a deep sigh of relief.
They stood in what seemed to be whumper's office; a large wooden desk, walls adorned with weapons, massive bookshelves. Everything whumpee expected whumper's office to look like, really.
They turned on a lamp and rooted through the desk. There were moundfuls of documents detailing whumpee's team. There were things here whumpee didn't even know... Things they weren't classified to know. They were told whumper was a murderer, someone who killed on sight; they took no prisoners and mercy was unheard of.
"Then why did you save me?" Whumpee whispered, looking at a framed picture of whumper proudly standing with their team. "Why capture me for intel if you had it already?"
In the depths of a drawer, whumpee found a roughly bound journal. It was branded with whumpee's team logo. They recognized it; each team carried one to document missions. Even whumpee had their own, though this one looked ancient...
They opened the first page before suddenly, the door opened and the lights flashed on. Whumpee gasped and dropped the book, frozen as they looked up like a deer in headlights. The person staring back had the very same expression. Horror, adrenaline, confusion.
-It was one of whumpee's teammates, dressed darkly and hooded as they took an astonished step towards whumpee.
"Whumpee? You're alive?" They whispered. "How? We thought they killed you." They gasped. Whumpee covered their mouth and clambered back to their feet. They were flooded with relief seeing a friendly face. They tried to figure out how to say a million words in a single breath.
"It's a long story-" Whumpee heaved, "I've been kept here by whumper, I got hurt in the attack and I-I was bleeding out and I was-" Whumpee trailed off with a flicker of doubt. They knew their team would think whumpee betrayed them if they were found alive in whumper's custody. The amount of intel that could be tortured out of them...
"I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't looking right at you." Their teammate filled in the silence, taking a step closer. "To think all this time, you survived..."
They didn't sound happy. Both of their eyes dropped to the journal between their feet, branded with their symbol.
"Ah, I see... So you found it." Their teammate stared.
"Found what? What have you not told me?" Whumpee demanded.
They crouched down to pick up the book, as they heard a *sswick* of a blade being unsheathed. Whumpee stopped in their tracks. They slowly looked up and stared into the tip of a blade and the eyes of someone who was no ally.
"I really am sorry." Their teammate whispered softly. "But you died that day, whumpee. It has to stay that way, for the good of all of us. You understand, don't you?" They took a step closer as whumpee snatched the book in their arms and backed away.
"Oh, come on, don't make this difficult. You've died once for us already. You can do it one more time, can't you?" They tilted their head.
"Can't I know why?" Whumpee's voice broke as their back hit the wall. "I- I didn't give you up, I didn't tell whumper anything. They weren't even what I thought they were... They weren't what you told me!" Whumpee suddenly shouted.
"I'm sure you didn't, you were always loyal. But it was never about that."
The blade came to their throat as whumpee shuttered and closed their eyes. The sound of a blade piercing flesh, a hot splatter of blood hit their chest, yet they felt nothing but cold adrenaline.
There was hollow silence. Whumpee opened their eyes, their teammate's face was blank as they sunk to the floor on their knees. Their silhouette was replaced by whumper, holding a dripping blade with a look of pure hatred.
"They dare set foot in my house!?" Whumper shouted. Their eyes suddenly darted to whumpee, who flinched. Their back was to the corner, face stained with blood, they trembled while hugging the journal to their chest.
"How did you get- ... No, one thing at a time." Whumper stopped themselves, putting the blade out of sight. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" They asked instead, nudging the corpse off their feet.
"I'm- ... I'm not hurt." Whumpee responded rapidly, trying not to show they were gasping for breath. "They were going to k-kill me." Whumpee touched their fingers to their chest where their teammates blood was splattered. "And you just... S-saved my life..."
"As much as I want to gloat and say I told you so- I'm just glad I got here when I did. Come with me, let's get you changed and we'll talk." Whumper held out their hand.
To be continued, 2/2
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Hero had noticed that Villain seemed a little distracted during their fight—not bantering as much as usual, fighting back halfheartedly. Still, they had expected Villain to dodge their attack in time. But when Hero sent out another blast of their ice powers, it hit Villain square in the chest, knocking them into the wall behind them. 
Hero gasped as they watched Villain crumple to the ground, clutching at their chest. “Oh my god.” 
Villain groaned, staring down at the ice spreading across the front of their suit. “Fuck. You got me good, huh?” they forced out. The laugh that followed was on the verge of hysterical. 
“God, Villain, I’m so sorry,” Hero said, rushing to them. They knelt down in front of Villain, pushing their shaking hands out of the way so Hero could inspect the damage. Ice had pierced through their suit, seeping into Villain’s chest. Thanks to their own fire powers, it most likely wouldn’t be fatal—Villain's body heat had already begun counteracting the ice. But it looked like it hurt. 
Villain’s eyes were distant when they looked up at Hero, and their lips were tinged blue. “My fault,” they said, teeth chattering. “Should’ve been paying attention.” 
Hero shook their head. “No, no it’s not your fault. Shit, I'm sorry, I knew you were having an off day and I still…” 
Villain wrapped their arms around themself as shivers wracked their body. “S-so cold. And tired.” 
“You have to stay awake,” Hero instructed, though it came out as more of a plea. “Keep your eyes open, okay?” 
The ice was beginning to melt away already, but the effects would probably last longer. “You’ve g-got your chance to t-turn me in now,” Villain said, forcing themself to keep their eyes on Hero. 
Hero sighed, pushing Villain’s hair back. “Not gonna happen. I’m taking you home where you can have some hot soup and lots of blankets, and then rest. And maybe when you’re feeling better, you can tell me what had you so distracted today.” 
“Why?” Villain asked incredulously. 
“I did this. Now I'm going to fix it.” Hero didn’t tell them about the guilt and the looming fear that always followed them. The constant underlying threat of their powers being too strong. Or that they might lose control, like they had today. One of their worst fears had just come true and it was only by luck, or maybe a miracle, that Hero had hit the one person who couldn’t be killed by their ice powers. 
“If you w-wanted me to c-come home with you, you c-could've just asked,” Villain joked. 
Hero couldn’t help but smile—at least Villain was with it enough to still tease them. “Don’t fool yourself. Once you’re all better, we go back to being enemies.” 
“Yeah. Obviously.” Hero pretended not to notice the way Villain’s smile faltered. “You’d have t-to take me to dinner f-first, anyways. I’m not that easy.” 
“Well,” Hero said, “I can at least make you chicken noodle soup, so hopefully that counts for something. Now, come on, let’s see if you can stand…” 
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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 2 years
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A Whumper who, in the eyes of a traumatized Whumpee, is a Caretaker compared to the absolutely horrendous treatment they had been subjected to prior to being kidnapped by them
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