clockworkwhump

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“Don’t,“ Whumpee said, taking a step back without realizing what they were doing.

“Don’t what?” Caretaker shouted. “Don’t ask you why you show up every day covered in bruises? Don’t try to understand how come you are wincing when I touch you because of injuries I didn’t even know you had or how you got them in the first place? Don’t worry about how you keep hurting yourself or letting yourself get hurt and never ask for help? Don’t what, Whumpee?”

Whumpee didn’t know how they got there, but suddenly their back was pressed against the wall, arms tightly wrapped around themself in a feeble shield, trembling hands clutching the soft cotton of their shirt. Their breathing came in quick, sharp gasps that made them dizzy and tears slid down their cheeks as Whumpee whispered, “Don’t hurt me.”

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i have nao

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Whumper flicks the side of Whumpee's head with a huff of annoyance, going back to reading their book.

Whumpee ignores the brief sting of pain, weaving their fingers together and fixing their eyes on the floor. "Why are you.." They mouth the words to themselves, barely a whisper escaping them, before they take a short breath and speak properly. "Why are you so.. mean to me? I don't know what I did. I don't ever know what I did. You're always upset with me."

"Because you're annoying." Whumper answers without missing a beat, turning the page. They feel Whumpee's eyes hovering on them, though, so they roll their eyes and close their book. "Because I don't like you, Whumpee. I don't know how you ever got it in your head that I do." They reach up to pat Whumpee's cheek patronizingly. "But I keep you around because you're useful, and I don't throw away things I have a use for. So be a dear and get supper started, will you? Make up something creative tonight."

After a pause and a frown, Whumpee stands up to do just that.

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accidentally dreamed up a book that i 100% thought was real and i'm not convinced it wasnt

its about these three kids, ones named jack, their parents are murdered 🧍‍♂️ by this guy who proceeds to kidnap them. during this one of the kids (not jack) is killed .. later on jack ends up killing his brother because he thought he was the one who killed their parents, not the kidnapper

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Groaning, the whumpee lifts their head from the dirt and struggles to push themselves up on their elbows, gritting their teeth as they start to stand.

The whumper stomps on their back, shoving them to the ground.

“Stay down,” the whumper hisses, and the whumpee stills, whimpering as their boot puts pressure on their already bruised back. They lay motionless, cheek pressed against the earth, even after the whumper lifts their leg.

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saw a meme in one of my dreams last night that had confucius but he was a catboy and it said "catnip got me acting unwise"

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Treatment

Whumpee’s friends pinning them down while Caretaker slips a dislocated joint back into place.

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When Caretaker had returned from work that day, the first thing they did was make a steaming cup of raspberry tea. They like to settle in a reading nook in their bedroom, hands wrapped around their cup, while an open book sits on their lap. It makes for a wonderful afternoon, especially when they're exhausted and frustrated from the day - which is most days. 

The knock at the door makes them sigh. Just as they'd settled down, too. They considered ignoring it, but when they hear another knock, the haul themselves up with a grumble and pad to their front door.

The person at their door is made clear to them once they open it. No, not a person. A pet, kneeling in front of their door and shivering from the cold. 

- 

Pet trembles, resisting the urge to hide their face in their hands. Oh, they've never been more embarrassed, not ever. Being thrown out was humiliating enough - but getting so desperate to beg in front of doorsteps to be taken in? They could hardly think about it without wanting to hide in a cabinet somewhere and never come out! 

But what else could they do? It was the middle of winter, Pet was starving, and sleeping on the streets was sure to freeze them to death. No one wanted to take in an ugly pet like that, especially not one that had so clearly been thrown out. No, they had to take matters into their own hands. Which was stupid, too - no one wants a pushy pet, either! No wonder Pet had been thrown out!

They bow their head submissively, then move a bit to point to a collar wrapped around their neck. No nametag. “I, I’m a pet,” They say, like it wasn’t obvious. Stupid. Off to a great start, making the human feel dumb already. “A-and, I, I’m already trained, I’m obedient, I can do any chore you need. Or- or don’t need. I can be pretty, or- or sweet, or- or anything, and..” They trail off, hearing a dog bark from within the house. Their heart sinks. This human already has a pet, and a dog at that. Dogs are much easier to handle, and more rewarding, too. “And anything you want.” They finish quietly, shoulders slumped. Where will they go now? It’s nearing night, and it smells like it’s going to start raining.

They feels the human’s eyes on him, probably looking for flaws. They aren’t hard to find, Pet has plenty of them.

Instead of kicking them down, or slamming the door shut, the human squats down in front of them. Pet's shivering gets more frantic. Stupid, stupid! Sit still, you just said you were trained!

“Hey,” The human said. Their voice is low, and nasally, but comforting to hear. “Do you want to come inside? You look like you’re just about to freeze to death.”

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All octolings need therapy

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Wash

warnings: nooses (not in a suicidal manner), captivity, morally grey whumper, descriptions of hanging / loose / broken skin, nudity (non sexual and not described), implied pet /  institutionalized whump   <3 i’m not so active on tumblr anymore but i’ve been thinking about these boys a lot!  Jak huffs to himself, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. Stupid, stupid captain and stupid elf and stupid everything. The last thing he wanted was to look after the thing, yet here he is.

“Jak, you seem rather interested in our captive. Or so I’m told. Why don’t you keep an eye on it today? The others tell me they’re tired of seeing it everyday. Keep it out of our way.”

Yeah, whatever. At least it’s a day off from training. The spot he’d chosen off of camp wasn’t so bad either. A quiet area, in front of the river and surrounded by woods. He sits on a stump, the elf kneeling next to him in the grass. A rope wraps around its neck, loose for now, but the threat of Jak yanking it tight persists. He wishes he didn’t have to hold it.

“Nice day, huh?” Jak says, looking over to the elf. It doesn’t respond, eyes closed and head tilted toward the sunlight. He supposes it might’ve missed it after being tied up under an outdoor tent for days. It’s fists are curled in the grass, like its afraid it’ll float away if it lets go. “You awake over there?”

The elf moves at that. Its eyes - lacking pupils, ugh - open, head turning to face the human. Jak cringes. Maybe he should’ve let it stay like that. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at it before.

Its ears are more mangled than he thought. Drooped down, tattered at the tips and crusted over with blood at the earlobes. As far as Jak knows, elf ears are supposed to stand tall. These look wrung and ripped to shreds.

It’s skin, too, smooth yet dirtied with blood and grime. It’s nose is slightly lopsided, neck littered with fingerprint bruises. Malnourished, too. It stares at Jak, blinking slowly, lips slightly parted.

“Do you talk?” Elves talk. Don’t they? Jak is sure he’s heard them speak before. In their own language, yeah, but he’s heard English too. Maybe this one doesn’t speak. It doesn’t look like any elf he’s ever seen, anyway.

“Yes, sir.” Its voice is clunky, like it’s trying to talk around its tongue. Maybe it isn’t used to talking. “I can read, too. And count. I was known in my home as a scholar. I know how to do many things,” It says, carefully, like it’s testing the waters for Jak’s reaction. “And I will leave that at that, sir. Do with it what you will.” It dips its head again, seeming quite proud of itself. “..Alright, then.” He glances out toward the river, if only to rid his eyes of the other. He doesn’t like looking at it for too long. It’s blank stare is bad enough, not counting the infected wounds and scars littered across its body. It doesn’t look in pain, though. Maybe it’s gotten used to it? Or it doesn’t feel it? He doesn’t know how elves work, maybe it can heal itself and that’s why no one’s been tending to it. “Do you want to work?” Jak keeps his eyes on the water, but he feels the elf’s eyes turn to him again. It hesitates. “I.. want to prove myself, sir,” It decides. “I can be helpful. I can do whatever you need.” It looks down at the grass. “I know you’re taking me back to the jail, though. That’s okay. It’s your job. You seem like you are very good at your job. That’s a good thing to be. Back at home, I was-” “Stop.” Jak exhales, exasperated. “I don’t care what you were like back at home. You clearly don’t, either, we didn’t find you at home. We found you running away.” The elf makes a strange, sort of huffing-humming noise, fisting its hands in the grass once again. “Yes, I know.” It says curtly, dipping its head and closing its eyes again. It doesn’t speak, and Jak assumes the conversation is over. At last.  - How do other elves do it? Aymer digs his nails into his palms, screwing his eyes shut. He wants to be useful, so, so bad, but whenever he tries he babbles on and on and no one wants an elf who talks. He’s surprised the human hadn’t beaten him black and blue for uttering a word, much less a conversation. Maybe it was a test? If it was, he definitely failed it.  No one wants an elf who’s been to jail, either. It’s just his impulses. He runs away, gets thrown into whatever jail finds him first, and thrown into a shelter the next day.  He supposes he’s lucky humans still think elves are useful enough to keep around. He knows many would rather they get killed off. Hunters, especially. The only thing that stops them from killing the elves they catch is the bounty. Aymer’s sure his luck will run out one day, though. Maybe it’s now. Maybe the human took him out here to kill him and dispose of him quickly. He glances up, seeing the human’s eyes dart around the woods. Maybe he’s looking for a place to do it easily. The knot in Aymer’s chest twists painfully.  “Look,” The human starts, and Aymer’s ears twitch in response. “We’re packing up to leave tomorrow morning. You’re going to have to walk all day, and you’re already dirty enough as is.” He stands up, exerting lightest pressure on the rope around Aymer’s neck. The elf stands quickly, legs wobbling. “You can wash off in the river. It’s still and calm here. Just get the dirt off.” He glances in the direction of the camp. “And don’t take too long.”  “I, I won’t, sir,” Aymer hears himself say, stumbling over his words. The human leads him downhill, stopping at the riverbank. He stands there for a moment, as if thinking, then loops the rope around Aymer’s neck on a thin tree hanging over the river. “Just the dirt, like I said. Don’t dawdle.” The human gives Aymer a look, then turns around. To give him privacy, he assumes. “I won’t.” Aymer replies, far too late, stripping and stepping into the water. It’s cold, but not unbearably so, and sways around his legs nicely. He can feel excess dirt caked on his skin already coming loose. He steals a quick glance at the sun, then starts to quietly clean himself. He wonders - no, no, they’re still going to kill him. He knows it. Maybe they just.. want to wear his senses down. Or it’s going to be.. formal? So he should look clean? None of this makes sense to him right now. But he will admit: it feels awfully nice to scrub dirt off his skin after so long.

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"I think, sometime.. we should leave." Whumpee 1 says vaguely, laying on their back, watching Whumpee 2 run their fingers through their hair. The cold ground of the cell makes their legs shiver, and they curl up further into Whumpee 2's lap.

Whumpee 2 laughs. "Good plan, I agree." They say, running a finger over a deep cut on Whumpee 1's lip. "When did he do that?"

"Earlier. I dropped a plate." 1 brings a hand up, running their own finger over the slash. "It's not so bad, he just slapped me. His ring cut into my lip."

2 gives them a 'hmm' sound in return, going back to playing with their hand. "When should we leave?"

"After I break all his plates." 1 smiles, a rare sight. 2 likes it when 1 smiles. A real one, not one they put on to make Whumper pat their head and tug their leash.

"Now, how're you gonna feed me if there's no plates, huh? Thought someone was supposed to feed the animal locked up in here." 2 raises an eyebrow teasingly.

"Well, he's got me in here now too! Maybe he'll be normal and get a fish or something. Then we can leave."

The two of them laugh, hearing the slightest echo of their joy.

It's little moments like these, happy ones, that make 1 and 2 hold on. Neither of them are sure how they did it before.

Of course, as soon as Whumper finds them one day - asleep and curled up in the corner, 1's leash is reattached and they're brought back inside. So much for that.

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Whumpee gets overly attached and clingy to a Caretaker that doesn't like them.

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one of my favourite things is the moment when the caregiver who thinks they've cured whumpee of their conditioning realises that they were really just trying to please them the whole time and nothing has changed. bonus points if the whumpee doesn't see how that's a problem.

Ooohhhhhhh I love this trope! I love how disappointed Caretaker is when they realize its all been fake. They thought they were making real progress but Whumpee still thinks they are some new "owner".

-

Whumpee learns the rules like any new owner.

Caretaker doesn't like them to call them Sir/Ma'am, Mistress/Master. Always use their name, whumpee learns.

Caretaker likes verbal answers. Whumpee makes sure to always answer when they talk to them.

Caretaker likes them to smile. Always praises them when they do. Whumpee forces a smile and always says they are fine. That makes Caretaker happiest.

Whumpee always wakes at 4am, but stays in their in room until 8 or 9. Caretaker always frowns when they come out too early. Maybe not ready to be bothered by their presence yet...

Caretaker likes to watch them eat, makes sure they finish everything. Maybe to make sure their new property isn't wasted by starving and doesn't waste food.

Caretake doesn't like them to clean while they are around. Always tells them to stop when they come home. Probably too noisy for them. Whumpee cleans quietly at night while they are sleeping instead.

They write them all down, so they don't forget Caretaker's odd and particular rules.

Then one day, Caretaker finds their notes. Gets so upset about them.

"Why did you write this down?" They ask. Their new owner is mad they didn't memorize them, whumpee figures out.

Whumpee promises to tear them up.

"I want you to get better," Caretaker says.

They'll get better, they promise. They'll try harder. Try harder to be "better". Not "good". Caretaker is particular about the wording.

Caretaker doesn't even bother to punish them. Whumpee has already learned they aren't worth the trouble of correcting to their new owner.

But they don't cry, Caretaker always tells them not to cry. Thats against the rules...

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All octolings need therapy

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Roadtrip AU: 2 - It’s midnight and I have blood on my clothes and I think I’m in a car

Important note!!!: First, I’d like to give a HUGE shout out to my partner @bugs-and-comfort who graciously helps me every time I write about Bee dissociating and even wrote quite a bit of Bee’s inner monologue for this chapter. Thank you so much, Bugs! And lastly, Sully in the AU does not know what nonbinary is and therefore doesn’t actively use they/them pronouns. The narration and characters in this AU use he/him pronouns for them, but their pronouns are they/them and when referring to them please use they/them pronouns including when you are talking about this AU. Thank you!

CW: vague implications to noncon, fairly vivid description of murder, stabbing, blood, dissociation, loose grip on reality, nudity, reference to whump of a minor (vague on the ages), discussion of car accident, reference to family death, reference to beating, reference to noncon body modification (haircut), manhandling, vomiting, fear of abuse, nausea after eating, food mention, reference to lack of food, internal self-depreciation, degrading language, dehumanization, scars, explicit language - let me know if I forgot anything!

Taglist - @tears-and-lilies @whumping-out-of-time @starnight-whump @myst-in-the-mirror @asummerwithclara - let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!

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Masterlist

Bee wasn’t real.

Or, maybe, he didn’t feel real.

When was the last time he felt real? When was the last time he felt anything at all?

He could tell his body was shivering as Sully sat in the driver’s seat, carefully trying to not mess up the skirt of his very pretty dress. Bee could tell his body was shivering, but it also didn’t feel like his body. He felt like nothing attached to him was real. His hands weren’t. His chattering teeth weren’t. His slightly blue feet weren’t.

Nothing was real.

“Seatbelt,” Sully said as he turned on the car.

Keep reading

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“I’ve been trying to call you all night.”

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Whump Prompt #667

So the team use teleportation/magic/science/whatever unnatural means of travel that’s relevant to your universe to get around.

However, the newest member isn’t exactly accustomed to it.

So when they teleport to The Big Bad, the leader launches into the ‘you’re fucked’ speech while looking all authoritative… the newest member is on their knees and dry heaving - their face is pale with a tint of green.

Bonus points if the leader says to the Big Bad “one sec” before hauling the member to their feet by their shirt collar.