kninewarrior

[kninewarrior]

What I am to You

Cw: Whumpee self-degrading and arguing , military topics

Caretaker had refused to leave Whumpee’s bedside. Whumpee mostly slept after his tailspin a couple of nights ago, but would wake for small meals. Whumpee would still allow Caretaker to help him eat when he was too weak, but would not look him in the eyes.

He barely spoke beyond a yes or a no, his voice quiet and strained when he did speak.

When the medics would clean his wounds and change the dressings of his incisions, Whumpee simply stared at the ceiling, expressionless. He lay limp and checked-out, letting his body be moved entirely passively.

It was as if after the night where Whumpee had accidentally attacked Caretaker, something had broke even deeper in his brain. Caretaker had no idea how to help, or what to even say. He tried to assure Whumpee as much as possible, but it never seemed to have any effect.

Leader and the Girl continued to work with the rest of the Unit and the local authorities to come up with a plan to get back to their home island. They were documenting as much of the events leading up to their arrival in this foreign country as possible, but no one had yet been able to get Whumpee to give his account.

Out of anyone, Whumpee spoke with Leader the most. It made sense, Caretaker would tell himself, Whumpee was closest to Leader and it was very clear. He found himself almost jealous, despite understanding the reasons for it.

Caretaker would always leave the radio in Whumpee’s room playing. It seemed to be the only thing that helped; Caretaker would watch Whumpee’s ears flicking when music played.

Today, Leader had set it to a station talking about current events of the southern ocean. Normally, Caretaker found this sort of thing incredibly boring, but refused to argue with Leader about it.

Caretaker looked up from the letter he was writing when Leader pulled forward quickly in her chair as if something had surprised her. She stood, turned the radio volume up, and froze anxiously.

The broadcaster spoke about a remote islet that had gone up in flames in an out of control wildfire. It spoke about a confidential government research hospital being evacuated and ultimately destroyed in the blaze, along with most of the islet.

/It wasn’t a hospital!!/

Caretaker knew the radio was talking about the same island they’d rescued Whumpee from instantly, and he could tell caretaker thought the same.

The broadcast continued.

The faceless voice talked about ongoing tensions related to the destruction of the small, confidential research island.

It called their home island out by name.

It went on about how humanitarian efforts by the mainland to move civilians off their island were underway. The Enemy had invaded their home, seeking retribution for inciting conflict.

The radio went off about how Whumpee -the island’s General- had recently been killed in this breakdown of peace between the two forces. Leader -the high authority of the island- and other key military figures were currently missing in action, it explained.

Caretaker bit his tongue.

Leader, fuming, shut the radio. She stood silently for a moment before turning around.

Caretaker looked down at Whumpee, his heart skipping a beat when he realized Whumpee was completely wide awake.

His eyes were glossy, tears running down his face. Whumpee looked like he was staring a hole through the wall, his gaze unfocused and dilated, but his eyebrows twisted into a pained grimace.

“Whumpee…” Caretaker started, reaching for Whumpee’s hand.

Leader moved to the bedside. She looked panicked, knowing that hearing this news would send Whumpee over the edge.

These two were passionate about their home and their people; Caretaker saw it very clearly in both of them.

“Go,” Whumpee pleaded hoarsely, looking at Leader.

She knelt down to Whumpee’s head. Caretaker suddenly very much felt like a third wheel; he shouldn’t be part of this conversation.

“I can’t. We can’t. Whumpee, we need to be smart about this. They’re-,”

“They will do to us and our people worse than death.” Whumpee growled through his tears.

“It is my fault for starting this war. I gave myself so others might-,” Whumpee coughed, his chest rattling. “M-might be spared. Instead they will all be killed, if they are shown any mercy, because I am here…”

Whumpee’s expression was heartbreaking. It seemed like he was talking mostly to himself.

Leader and Caretaker both froze, struck by the first true sentences Whumpee had spoken in days.

Leader leaned in over Whumpee, holding his face in her hands.

“I need you to listen to me. Do not ever talk like that.” Leader stressed, looking him directly in the eyes. “What you did saved lives. I was the one who sent you on this mission, and I’m the one who is responsible for this. I will not lose you again, and I will not allow you to put this burden on yourself.”

“He will not stop- what he wants- he has whipped me and cut me and- and…” Whumpee screwed his eyes shut before gasping and looking at Leader desperately again. “And you should have let him end it t-there; protect everyone else,”

Caretaker could see the wounds and Whumpee’s broken body, but to hear him actually speak about it gouged out Caretaker’s heart.

“Enough.” Leader stopped Whumpee. She gripped his shoulders, and Caretaker found himself on edge wanting to pull her away.

/Didnt she understand that this was how the enemy had spoken to Whumpee? Did she understand that by grabbing him like this, it was just reinforcing how he felt??/

“They are after me, and they are after you because of me. The island is safer without either of us there right now. Our soldiers are strong. The enemy is powerless on our land. You need to heal, and we need to stay hidden while we come up with a proper plan, and so we don’t lose you to this. You know this.” Leader said sternly. She didn’t let her grip on him go.

“Do I?” Whumpee snapped. Caretaker had never seen him talk back to Leader like this. Whumpee writhed away from her touch.

“Do I know that? I DO know you were better off staying put and -…” Whumpee choked, coughing deeply again. Blood spat from his mouth like it did every time these awful coughing fits took him over.

“And none of this would have happened! I would have paid my price without anyone else being hurt! I know what I am to you as a weapon! I knew what I was doing!!” Whumpee screamed.

“And you,” Whumpee looked at Caretaker. His face was incredibly pained, the corners of his mouth pulled back like a frightened animal.

“You shouldn’t even be here. I will only hurt you. You should be back home…” he pointed at the letter Caretaker had abandoned again. “And you know exactly wh,” Another sputtering cough. “What I’m talking about.”

Leader had let go of Whumpee’s arms, sitting with him silently. Whumpee pulled his hands over his chest, clinging to himself.

Caretaker sat stunned, looking at the paper below his hands. He stood, ripping the paper in half and tossing it aside. Whumpee’s words stung.

“No, I actually don’t know what you’re talking about. But I do know that home wasn’t home without you. You are the reason that it’s my home. I would not trade you to be back, not if you weren’t there too.” He walked to Whumpee’s bed very slowly. He knew that a wrong move would potentially set Whumpee off into another spiral.

Whumpee stared at Caretaker, gritting his teeth and whimpering with held breath. Caretaker held his hands out to Whumpee, holding still and waiting for him to reach back.

Whumpee looked at him in the way he would as if Caretaker had kicked him. He groaned before collapsing forward into the embrace.

“Fuck,” he whispered, covering his face and curling into Caretaker. Caretaker was very cautious, slowly pulling his arms up around Whumpee. He felt so frail still.

“Whumpee,” Leader said softly. Whumpee looked up at her, clearly apologetic. He rarely ever snapped, and Leader seemed to understand what was really going on.

“We are going to figure this out. We are going to take our island back. And we are going to do it together, like we’ve always done. With you.”

[kninewarrior]

A Tool to be Used

Cw: hallucinations , queer questioning , noncon , PTSD , DDDNE

Whumpee woke to the sun in his eyes. His body stung, but he recognized that he was awake.

Caretaker was asleep on the floor directly beside Whumpee’s bed again, snoring. He was lying there on his back, just like the night Whumpee had fallen.

On the other side of the room, Leader slept in a chair, and someone was asleep in a pop-up cot.

/Wait, was that the Girl…?/

The Girl who had found Whumpee locked in his cage, the Girl who had facilitated his original failed escape attempt. She was alive, and had somehow found Leader.

Whumpee had little recollection after that escape attempt. He didn’t recognize where they were, or understand how they got there. Nothing looked familiar. He tried to remember the series of events after that horrible night.

His brain was foggy. He longed for Caretaker to climb back next to him like he did the night he’d picked Whumpee up off the washroom floor.

Whumpee whispered in Caretaker’s direction, seeking connection.

He felt guilty. Selfish. Indulging in Caretaker when Whumpee knew he would only end up breaking his own heart felt wrong. Ignoring his duties as General for his own emotions felt wrong. Disregarding the fact that Caretaker was actively pursuing someone else, WAS wrong.

Still, he wanted to talk to Caretaker. He wanted to open up to him about everything that had happened. He wanted to be held; Caretaker’s touch was the only touch that didn’t burn his skin.

Whumpee reached out his casted hand, trying to reach him. Whumpee’s fingers felt like searing pins and needles.

Caretaker rolled to the side in his sleep, facing Whumpee. His shoulder bumped Whumpee’s cast, unintentionally knocking into his broken hand.

“O-ow,” Whumpee reacted.

That reaction woke Caretaker up. He pushed himself up, seeing Whumpee’s arm hanging between the rails of the bed. He moved to sit near Whumpee’s head, gingerly putting Whumpee’s arm back under the covers. Caretaker rubbed his eyes, leaning on Whumpee’s bed.

“You alright, man?” Caretaker asked hoarsely.

“Can,” Whumpee swallowed hard. “Come here,” Words still felt like Whumpee was speaking through thick syrup.

Caretaker furrowed his eyebrows, looking worried. He scooted closer to Whumpee, putting a hand on his arm.

“What’s happening?” Caretaker asked, stroking his skin gently.

Whumpee didn’t know how to answer. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask, but none of it translated to words he could actually speak.

Caretaker sighed. “I’m sorry about everything that they did to you, Whumpee. If-“ he paused, looking down.

He looked… embarrassed?

“If you need to talk about it, I promise I’ll listen,” he offered.

Whumpee held his breath.

“I’m… of course you don’t have to, though.” Caretaker added.

Whumpee pushed himself up, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed and facing Caretaker. He reached his arms out at him.

Caretaker wrapped him in a hug, pulling Whumpee into his chest. Whumpee wrapped his hands around Caretaker’s shoulders, pushing his face against Caretaker’s ear. He breathed in deeply, wishing that this feeling could last.

He knew it couldn’t.

“Caretaker, go back home.” Whumpee said shakily.

“I know- we will! We’re going to work on a plan to get there Whumpee, we have to wait though because-“

“No, listen.” Whumpee swallowed the lump in his throat, pressing into Caretaker’s neck. “Go back to your home. Th-this isn’t fair to you… you need to leave,”

Whumpee felt his heart ache. He wanted nothing more than for Caretaker to be here with him. Keeping Caretaker here would only cause them both more harm in the end.

“Whumpee, what are you talking about? I want to be here.” Caretaker held him tighter.

Whumpee looked up to the ceiling, tears falling down his face. He wriggled his arms up in between his chest and Caretaker, pushing him away.

“No, you need to go!” Whumpee coughed. He felt the increasingly familiar panic setting in. He looked to his feet, trembling. He couldn’t stop the inevitable.

/You were never worthy of anything more than orders. You are a tool to be used. Simply property./

Whumper’s voice was loud in Whumpee’s ears.

/Look at you. A pet. A collared dog. Why would you think you could ever pretend to be anything more for anyone?/

Whumpee began to hyperventilate.

“No!! That’s not true!!” He screamed, pulling to his feet. He couldn’t see anything. He fell to the floor, unable to stand on his broken leg.

He smelled the sterile, cold metal. He tasted hot iron. He felt hands around his throat pushing him down. He felt hands moving up his stomach from the part in his kimono.

Whumpee scrambled backward, clawing at the grip around his neck. He pushed himself into a corner in a desperate attempt to escape. He felt the assaulting hands move down his body.

“Help!! No!!” Whumpee wailed, twisting against the touch. He fell onto his back. His head slammed against the floor, making him see stars.

Whumpee felt pressure on his throat suffocating him. He dug his nails in to the assailant, fighting with every once he could muster. He swung his casted arm wildly, attempting to land any blow he could.

Whumpee couldn’t do this again, his body couldn’t take any more. It would surely break permanently.

He kicked hard as his tail was pulled, as his arms were forced and held out at his sides. He dreaded the sensation he knew was coming. Nausea washed over him, his heart leaping from his chest while trying to put any kind of distance between him and Whumper.

Whumpee’s head twisted to see another figure walking toward him.

He let out a guttural war cry, baring his teeth, his eyes wide.

“Touch me and I’ll kill you!!” Whumpee screamed, thrashing. “I’ll kill you!!” He screwed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the searing pain inside his body.

But, he only felt warmth.

Arms wrapped around him holding him tight and still. Except this time, they did not hurt him. They didn’t cause fear or pain. His heart slowed as his head continued to spin, confused. There were no hands in his clothing, no gripping or pulling or shoving. Just safety.

“Woah! Hey, everything is okay! Take it easy!”

“Whumpee, snap out of it!!”

/What just happened?/

He smelled Caretaker. And Leader. His vision slowly cleared.

It wasn’t real…

“This is what I was worried about.” He heard Leader say under her breath.

“H-help me,” Whumpee quivered, terrified.

Caretaker stroked his hair, the touch sending shivers through Whumpee’s body. He curled into it, begging silently for Caretaker to know everything. He wanted to forget that he’d told Caretaker to leave him.

In stark contrast to what he’d just relived, Caretaker’s fingers over his ears and neck sent electricity through Whumpee’s core.

Whumpee didn’t want to love the feeling.

Caretaker was bleeding from his shoulder.

Had he lashed out at Caretaker?

Had he threatened to kill Caretaker?

/You will never escape the reality that this is what you were trained to do./

He broke into sobs, letting his body go limp. Not only was Whumper able to assault him over, and over- somehow stealing more from an empty shell- but he was now able to harm Caretaker through Whumpee.

“That’s it, breathe, Whumpee. We’re going to figure this out.” Leader was right there with Caretaker. Neither of them were moving to leave.

Whumpee was mortified. He didn’t understand why this was happening. Whumpee was not susceptible to much, but now, he felt helpless to his own body and betrayed by his mind.

Whumper had irreparably damaged something far beyond his flesh and bones.

[kninewarrior]

they’ll be fine, probably

[kninewarrior]

Token of your Trust

Cw: delirious/ill Whumpee , Caretaker feeding Whumpee , comfort

Caretaker held Whumpee until the medics were done examining him. He kept Whumpee distracted as best he could, trying to prevent him from seeing what was happening.

Whumpee’s disheveled hair was still soft, and his distinct scent triggered that same indescribable feeling in Caretaker’s stomach. He did his best to ignore it, focusing on keeping Whumpee calm while Leader helped the medics.

When they were done, Caretaker laid Whumpee back onto the mattress, covering him with the blanket again.

Whumpee had worn himself back out, staring off into space before his eyelids gently shut.

Leader sighed after the medics left the room, placing the oxygen mask back on Whumpee’s face.

She put a hand on Caretaker’s back sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Caretaker. I snapped, and shouldn’t have. Thank you.” She said sincerely.

“Give us just a few minutes, sweetheart.” Leader turned to the Girl, taking her hand. “Could you go start a teapot for us? It might help Whumpee feel better.”

“Y-yes miss, I can do that.” The Girl hurried out.

“Caretaker, can I talk to you candidly?” Leader asked, brushing Whumpee’s hair out of his eyes. Caretaker continued to look at his hands. He held Whumpee’s hand, running his thumb over each of Whumpee’s fingers.

“Whumpee and I have been through a lot together. He is loyal to a fault, and can easily get carried away. He’s passionate about his work, and that’s why we are here now.” Leader had tears in her eyes as she spoke. Caretaker stayed silent.

“He’s been my closest friend for a very long time, and I’ve come to rely on him. Maybe more than I should be asking from him.” She looked at Whumpee solemnly.

“Whumpee’s the most genuine person I know, Caretaker. He loves mountain climbing, he’s a great writer,” she let out a small, tense laugh. “And he loves cake.”

What was the point in her telling Caretaker all of this? He knew he was the outsider here, and that the two of them were probably still involved with each other beyond a platonic work relationship. He felt his face flush with anger; what was her motive here? And, why was he feeling this way about what she was saying?

“What I mean to say, Caretaker, is that Whumpee is really special. What was done to him in that place was unspeakable, inhumane and vile. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t even know the extent of what he is aware of. Please just be careful with him.”

Caretaker nodded, still playing with Whumpee’s fingers. He couldn’t look at Leader. He wanted to ask what happened to Whumpee, he wanted her to be clear about what she actually meant; he was confused and worried. Caretaker found himself longing for that kind of closeness with Whumpee. Up until now, he’d felt like Whumpee was the one taking pity on him by spending time together. He clenched his teeth, frustrated.

“Whumpee is still septic, and right now he’s really vulnerable. I’m just worried about his mental state, and everything that he might misunderstand currently.” Leader continued.

Caretaker went to speak, interrupted by the Girl opening the room door. She had a ceramic teapot in one hand, and a canvas bag in the other. She hurried over, putting the objects on a table in the room before emptying the bag’s contents. The Girl pulled out cups and bowls, and a large clay pot with a ladle.

Leader smiled, thanking the Girl. She gently leaned over Whumpee, running her hand over his cheek to wake him. Leader motioned to Caretaker, and they propped Whumpee up carefully in the bed.

Leader poured hot tea into the four cups, and opened the pot, ladling warm soup into the bowls. It smelled delicious; tender lamb and fish in a savory broth.

Whumpee was now staring at the food with wide eyes, lifting a shaky hand to reach for a bowl. Caretaker decided that talking to Leader could wait. Whumpee looked desperate for something to eat.

Leader poured a second serving, pushing the small bedside table with the food and tea over Whumpee’s chest toward Caretaker. Leader and Caretaker made eye contact, and she nodded as if to give her trust. She poured herself and the Girl a helping and moved to sit near her.

Whumpee turned toward Caretaker with glazed eyes, pleading and glossy.

“I’m, uh, going to help okay?” Caretaker felt awkward while lifting a soup spoon from the bowl to Whumpee’s face. He tried to keep his hand steady, gently tipping the broth into Whumpee’s mouth. He wasn’t used to this closeness with Whumpee at all.

Whumpee closed his eyes, savoring the warm broth, allowing Caretaker to assist him without any resistance.

Caretaker wanted to cry. He’d never seen Whumpee so helpless. Whumpee was strong and never showed such a vulnerability; it felt like a rare gift to be allowed to see this side of him.

Caretaker was afraid to ruin it. He was afraid this is what Leader was worried about, that Caretaker would irreparably betray this fragility.

From what Leader was alluding to, it sounded like the enemy already had.

“You want some tea?” He asked, blowing carefully over one of the cups to cool the surface. He put the cup to Whumpee’s lips, holding his breath while waiting for him to drink.

Whumpee lifted his hands, holding Caretaker’s with delicate touch. Whumpee lowered his arms after a moment, catching his breath after finishing the tea.

“Please, more,” Whumpee whispered, tears rolling down his face looking at Caretaker.

Caretaker continued to feed him, tenderly wiping Whumpee’s face and chest of spills, until the food was finished. He hadn’t even touched his own.

Leader had watched the entire interaction, her defensiveness radiating from across the room.

Whumpee sighed deeply, a content satisfaction on his face once the meal was finished. Caretaker was relieved to see him appear peaceful for a change. Leader relaxed.

For a few minutes, the group reveled in the comfort of a warm meal and shelter.

Caretaker did not know how long this was going to go on, or if Whumpee was going to be able to push through this. They needed to get home. Whumpee would heal properly there.

He did know, however, that he would personally see to it that whoever had rendered him in this state would be paying dearly.

As if Leader read his mind, she decidedly spoke to the battered group.

“Tomorrow morning, we’re going to come up with a plan about what to do next. For tonight, have seconds, and get some sleep.”

[kninewarrior]

Selfish

Cw: medwhump/sickfic , implied noncon , hurt/comfort , self doubt and questioning

Caretaker woke to Leader and the Girl walking back into Whumpee’s room. He realized he was lying in Whumpee’s bed. Caretaker jumped, surprising himself.

He must have fallen asleep while comforting Whumpee after his fall. He had sat at the edge of the mattress holding Whumpee’s hand, and had no memory after that.

Caretaker was completely spent from all of the events following Whumpee’s rescue; exhausted, hungry and sleep deprived.

He was now wrapped around Whumpee, enveloping his small frame in his arms. Whumpee had curled up to Caretaker’s chest, and had pulled his blanket up to his ears. Caretaker felt his face flush.

Leader turned on the room light.

The room was a disaster.

Water from the washroom where Whumpee had fallen still soaked the floor, creating a wet mess spilling into the room. The faucet was still running.

Bloody cloth, blankets, and other objects had been strewn across the room in Caretaker’s effort to get Whumpee safe again quickly.

Finally, the door Whumpee had fallen into had slammed into the adjacent wall, punching a hole into the traditional shikui material of the room.

Leader stood silently, assessing the situation. The Girl who stood behind her remained quiet.

“What in the world is happening?” Leader asked, shutting off the faucet. Caretaker was taken aback by her cold tone- he hadn’t heard her speak this way. However, she too looked beyond exhausted.

“I- I didn’t mean to,” he stammered, jumping to his feet.

Caretaker looked at the mess he’d unintentionally made amid the chaos, his heart sinking in embarrassment. He put his hands up to Leader, pleading.

——————————————————————

Whumpee, suddenly uncomfortable, lifted his head. He still had a massive headache.

Caretaker had been incredibly gentle, tending to Whumpee before eventually falling asleep on his side on his bed.

He had allowed himself to push into Caretaker’s arms after he’d fallen asleep. Whumpee knew he shouldn’t have. He was treading a line, pushing a boundary.

He’d pressed his bruised face into Caretaker’s chest, letting himself be comforted by the warmth of Caretaker’s skin. Whumpee’s ear against Caretaker’s body, soaking in the gentle beating of his pulse.

He was no better than Whumper.

Now, Caretaker was standing on one side of the bed, and Leader on the other. Caretaker looked embarrassed, and Leader looked the way she did when plans go very wrong.

“There is water and blood everywhere, a hole in the wall, and Whumpee is off oxygen. What exactly did you do?” Leader accused Caretaker.

Whumpee coughed when he tried to speak.

“Leader,” Whumpee forced. “S-stop, it’s my fault,”

Leader turned toward Whumpee, making him flinch with her direct glare.

“Caretaker saved me, I was trying —“ the coughing fit overtook Whumpee, cutting him off. He gasped for air, the deep cough rattling his lungs. Whumpee reached a palm up to his mouth, freezing when blood spattered into his hand.

His heart began to race at the sight of the blood. The image of his ruined body in the mirror burning through his mind… Whumper’s voice.

/Weak. You deserve everything that’s happened to you./

Leader and Caretaker both leapt to Whumpee’s sides, the sudden grabbing making his body lock in response.

Whumpee felt his eyes roll, his vision turning fuzzy. He could hear Caretaker and Leader, muffled and shouting incoherently. The world felt like it was moving in slow motion, fading into a vignette blur around him.

His body seized, betraying him yet again. The blanket over Whumpee was pulled away.

He felt cold and exposed.

He felt hands on his face and stomach. Whumpee wanted to scream, he wanted to beg for his body to be left alone, for the touching to stop.

“Go get help! Now!” He heard Leader yell.

Whumpee gasped again, fighting against himself. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

Then, the shouting faded away to silence. His limbs went numb. All he could see was Caretaker. Whumpee felt Caretaker’s hands cradle his head, his fingers stroking his ears.

His heart slowed. Whumpee’s chest swelled, closing his eyes and curling into Caretaker’s hand.

He didn’t deserve this. Caretaker should be home, living his life with the woman he knew Caretaker wanted to be with. Whumpee had been corrupted. He’d been destroyed from the inside out, hollowed, the resulting husk discarded and left for dead. His purpose had been fulfilled.

Whumpee wanted so badly to push Caretaker away. To tell him to run, to leave him alone. Keeping Caretaker here with him was selfish.

Whumpee felt his upper body lift slightly forward off the mattress, caressed by warmth. His face was now against Caretaker’s shoulder, his scarred back supported by Caretaker’s arms. Whumpee’s arms lay limp at his sides, having no control over what was happening to him.

Why was Caretaker torturing him like this?

“Shh, you’re gonna be fine.” Caretaker whispered into Whumpee’s ear. Caretaker never whispered.

Whumpee groaned, trying to respond.

“Just - just don’t pay attention to what they’re doing, just pay attention to me, okay?” Caretaker hesitated, humming while thinking.

“Do … do you want to hear some jokes?”

Whumpee’s brain stopped, pulled out of his panic by the endearing absurdity of Caretaker’s offer. A fragile smile pierced through the fray of his emotions.

Caretaker gave a small laugh, pushing into Whumpee’s hair gently.

“I haven’t even came up with one yet,” he chuckled.

Maybe Whumpee could be selfish a little longer.

[kninewarrior]

“Well, now. That one is just going to make a bigger mess. What are we going to do about it, dog?”

[kninewarrior]

You can rip my skin.

You can break my bones.

You can degrade me,

Reduce me to nothing more

Than a dog.

In time,

You will eventually learn

That all dogs have the ability to bite.

[kninewarrior]

Whumper who sedates Whumpee for a procedure. Maybe they implant a tracker. Maybe they surgically attach something to Whumpee that they can use for their own benefit. Or maybe, they did nothing at all but create an incision, to make Whumpee believe something had happened, but really, nothing did.

Whumpee will never know the truth.

[kninewarrior]

A lifeless face that you’ll soon forget,

And my eyes are damp from the words you left

Ringing in my head

When you broke my chest

[kninewarrior]

You Got Me

Cw: medwhump , descriptive injury , implied noncon , degrading

Whumpee blinked, squinting his eyes tightly to let a spell of vertigo pass. He inhaled, a stinging in his chest catching his breath.

He rolled to his side, laboriously twisting his body so his elbow was underneath him.

The room was dimly lit and warm. He did not see anyone with him, and the door to his room was closed.

Whumpee pulled himself up to half-sitting, clenching his teeth. He felt parched, and just wanted cool water on his face.

He forced himself to sit on the side of the bed, pulling his feet from under his blanket and to the floor.

Whumpee stared at his feet. The left was wrapped in a heavy plaster cast, covering his foot and calf. He winced while sitting, aching pain stabbing through his body.

Whumpee pulled his arms to his lap, examining them with his palms facing the ceiling. His right hand was also casted, only his thumb and index finger free. The left was wrapped in gauze, tubing coming from his arm and the top of his hand. Whumpee coughed, uncomfortable throughout.

He looked behind him, realizing Caretaker was lying on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. His heart jumped, terrified, until Caretaker began to snore. He was just very asleep. Whumpee sighed with relief.

Whumpee took one of the blankets on his bed, tossing it over the mattress and onto Caretaker. He mumbled something incoherent before continuing to snore.

He turned away to catch his breath, bracing his arms against his knees. There was a small washroom about ten steps away. Whumpee could rinse his face and get a sip of water without waking the clearly exhausted Caretaker.

He leaned over himself, a terrible stinging striking through his abdomen. Whumpee groaned, grabbing onto the drip stand he was connected to in order to pull himself up.

He tipped forward, overtaken by vertigo again. He caught himself against the wall, holding his casted foot off of the floor. Whumpee dragged the pole with him as he slowly hopped across the floor, pulling himself along the wall toward the washroom.

Finally, after a grueling while, Whumpee reached the vanity in the washroom. He flipped the faucet of the sink, cold water pouring into the elaborate bowl. He dunked his face into the water, splashing it onto his skin and bangs. He cupped his palm to sip water from his hand, ignoring the catheters aggravating his wrist.

Whumpee sighed, pulling his head back up and shaking the water off his hair and ears.

He was met with a mirror in front of his face.

He gripped the countertop, staring at a person he did not recognize.

Whumpee was not a vain person, but he was a neat person, and took care in his appearance. He kept his hair neat, the fur on his ears and tail up-kept, and his face clean-shaven.

What he saw was not himself.

He had a terrible black eye complete with nasty cuts over the side of his face and a bruised neck. The bridge of his nose was swollen, purple, and stitched.

His hair was disheveled and looked grimey, his face covered in stubble.

Whumpee pulled the lapels to the gown on his body open, putting a hand to his chest. His body was battered, ribby and burning up. Whumpee moved his hand down to the large bandaged wound across is abdomen, pulling away when it stung back at the touch.

He looked back at himself, his face twisting into despair. He’d been brutalized and then repaired, his autonomy completely ripped from him both times. His body seared in pain, chiseled through from both ends. His heart began to race while staring himself in his teary, bloodshot, blue eyes.

The weight of what had been done to him came crashing through his mind again. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, tunnel vision overtaking him. His ears rang loudly, Whumpee beginning to hyperventilate through sobs.

He turned, hopping on his foot to try and pivot back to the bed. His head was pounding, his hand shaking while gripping the drip stand he’d dragged with him.

He braced his elbow against the door frame, pausing when his vision went black.

/Pathetic lap dog./

Whumpee heard Whumper’s voice growling in his brain. He choked, shocked, losing his balance against the door. He attempted to catch himself before slipping on splashed water, falling to his hip on the floor with a thud. The door to the washroom flew open, slamming into the adjacent wall.

Whumper’s voice ran ice cold through his veins, reiterating the disparaging, dehumanizing words over. And over. And over.

Whumpee couldn’t hold his body up with his broken hand, and let himself crumple flat onto his side. His head hit the floor, and Whumpee pulled his arms up to his chest, breathless.

“Oo-ow-w…” he groaned, completely stuck between the doorway, his face against the wall of the washroom.

————————————————————

Caretaker shot up straight, a slamming door and loud crash ripping him from a deep sleep on the floor.

“I’m- Ah! I’m! I’m up!” He rubbed his face, looking around from where he sat on the floor. One of Whumpee’s blankets was tossed over his lap.

He looked to Whumpee’s bed, the blood draining from his face when he didn’t see Whumpee lying there.

He launched to his feet in a panic.

“Whumpee!! Whumpee??” He hollared, running around the bed and turning up the lights in the room.

Caretaker tore through the room, stopping to a halt when he saw Whumpee’s legs sprawled on the floor in between the doorway of the washroom.

“Holy shit, Whumpee!” Caretaker tenderly stepped over Whumpee on the floor in order to get to his head.

Whumpee was pressed against the wall, hyperventilating and trembling. He was soaked, and water covered the floor. The faucet to the sink was running.

Caretaker dropped to Whumpee, putting a hand on his shoulder. Whumpee flinched under Caretaker’s hand.

“Hey! Whumpee, what happened?? It’s me, hey…” Caretaker took one arm, scooping it under Whumpee’s head and the other under his knees. He carefully pulled Whumpee over on to his back and picked him up off the floor.

He carried Whumpee, grabbing the IV stand that was also in the washroom, and laid him gently back on the bed.

Whumpee gasped, putting a hand on his chest.

“Caretaker,” he whimpered. “I’m sorry, I just-“

Caretaker had grabbed a fresh cloth, tenderly drying Whumpee’s face and hair. He’d tucked him back in under a blanket, checking over his limbs as he did.

“I’m sorry…” Whumpee cried. He held his aching head, pressing his palm into his forehead.

“No, don’t talk like that, I just got spooked is all.” Caretaker laughed nervously, trying to calm himself.

“No, Caretaker, no, I mean,” Whumpee looked directly into Caretaker’s eyes. Whumpee had a glossy, desperate look in his eyes, as if he was begging Caretaker to listen.

“I’m… you… I- I can’t keep you,” he scrunched his eyes closed, covering his face and devolving into sobbing loudly.

Caretaker had no idea what Whumpee meant.

He put a hand on Whumpee’s ear, stroking gently. Whatever was wrong, they would work through it in time. Caretaker was patient, if nothing else.

“You got me, man.” He assured Whumpee, stroking his hair.

“You got me.”

[kninewarrior]

Me at the moment

[kninewarrior]

Empty Letters

Cw: queer questioning, refugee team, emotional whump

A few days had passed since the Unit had taken refuge in this foreign country. They had been welcomed by the city; Leader was an excellent diplomat and had successfully pled their situation, allowing them to board in the city’s infirmary.

The local authority did not hesitate to help Whumpee, immediately taking him in and operating on him to save his life. They’d repaired the severe wound on his abdomen, and set his broken bones.

He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he was no longer actively dying.

Caretaker, Leader and the Girl who had helped them escape stayed with Whumpee in his recovery room. He was kept mostly asleep, trying to mitigate the panic episodes and confusion he was experiencing. The three took shifts sleeping as much as they could, someone always taking watch over Whumpee.

The other members of the Unit were given rooms in the nearby inn to rest and orders to lie low.

They had to be very careful; if news had gotten out that Whumpee had been rescued alive and their location became known, they risked Whumper and the enemy hunting them down or attacking their homeland.

For all they knew, the Mainland would get themselves involved, potentially putting their small island home in real danger.

Their home was still battered from the recent war with the Mainland.

For now, the group stayed out of sight, healing their wounds and catching their breath. Whumpee was alive, and they needed to keep it that way. They would go home soon.

Caretaker would comb through Whumpee’s hair and tail every morning and night. He’d speak to Whumpee, savoring the brief moments Whumpee was lucid enough to make some connection.

Leader and the Girl had spent a lot of time together, and a lot of time speaking with the city officials. Caretaker was often left alone with Whumpee, gladly taking guard of him.

Caretaker would write letters while watching Whumpee sleep. He’d vent and ask advice from a woman he’d been writing to for some time now.

She worked for a magazine published on the Mainland, and the advice she’d give answering the letters through her column had helped Caretaker greatly. He’d had strong feelings for her in the past, but over the last half year, she had stopped writing back completely.

At first, Caretaker continued to send letters diligently. Over the months, after Whumpee was presumed dead, things shifted.

Caretaker missed Whumpee terribly after he was gone. The time that they’d spent together had made Caretaker reflect on their friendship. Whumpee was incredibly kind to Caretaker; more than anyone had ever been to him before. He’d given him a home, and even actually enjoyed spending time with him. Whumpee was brave, genuine, and had become a very dear friend.

A fire ignited deep in the pit of Caretaker’s stomach. That fire grew and grew, morphing into something Caretaker didn’t quite recognize.

Now, Whumpee lay next to Caretaker’s chair. He slept deeply, holding Caretaker’s hand in a loose grip. His hands were much smaller than Caretaker’s, but Whumpee’s skin was rough and calloused from his years as the island’s General.

The tubes in Whumpee’s skin made his body look so fragile, and Caretaker was afraid that any wrong move would break Whumpee.

Caretaker sighed. He looked at the paper and pen on the side table, a blank page addressed to the woman. Other scratched letters beneath, the words scribbled out and discarded, failing Caretaker. Nothing seemed to accurately explain what was in Caretaker’s head.

He looked back to Whumpee, and his heart stung. Caretaker bit his tongue, snatching the blank paper in a fist. He shot up out of his chair, crushing the paper into a ball and shooting it against the far wall with a loud cry. He grabbed the discarded drafts, smashing them together and stomping them to a squashed pile beneath his shoe.

Whumpee coughed.

“Care-caretaker?” He groaned.

Caretaker was immediately embarrassed. He hurried back to his chair, wiping his teary face against the back of his arm.

“Yeah, man, hey!” Caretaker choked, putting a gentle hand on Whumpee’s shoulder.

“Are- you… okay?” Whumpee’s voice was slurred and very weak.

“I- Whumpee…” Caretaker was caught off guard.

Whumpee reached his arms up, wrapping them around Caretaker’s neck. Whumpee pulled Caretaker’s upper body into his chest, embracing him in a gentle hug. Caretaker flushed feeling Whumpee’s arms around him.

“You can do it…” Whumpee hummed, holding onto him. He drifted back off slowly, his arms going limp. Caretaker carefully set Whumpee’s arms back on the mattress, tucking him in under the blanket.

He put his face down on Whumpee’s comforter, gritting his teeth as to not break down.

/Please, somebody tell me what I’m supposed to do!/

[kninewarrior]

Though I’ve traveled far,

I’ve found some scars in places

I have never shown

to anyone,

I don’t know why it took so long

to get back home

[kninewarrior]

Splitting Headache

Cw: medwhump, descriptive abuse, implied noncon and torture, flashbacks

Everything was too silent.

For the first time in months, Whumpee felt no pain, just numbness. He only saw darkness, and the only sound he could hear was an indistinguishable whirring sound creating atmospheric white noise.

He tried to move his head, feeling incredibly heavy, like his body was made of lead.

“Uunh” Whumpee whimpered, calling out. He could see no other person around him.

Whumpee laboriously pulled a hand to his face, surprised to find a mask tied around his head and tubing in his nose. He found additional tubing and bandages covering his hand as well. His heart started to race.

He’d been here before.

Suddenly, that awful room came in to clear view. The one with the cage and the table, and the horrible steel door and walls. The metal tools and the blinding round light. He couldn’t move.

“Help…” he called feebly. He felt like he was breathing water. Had he been captured again? That means… Leader and the others…

Whumper entered the room. He was faceless and gloved, the heels of his dress shoes echoing on the tile floor as he walked toward Whumpee.

“You pathetic dog.” Whumper growled. A downward fist met Whumpee’s head, causing Whumpee to yelp loudly.

“You’ve sold your soul to perform tricks for someone else. You’re a dressed-up palace pet, nothing but a glorified protection dog given a title and a badge for sympathy.”

Whumper’s words stung deeply.

“You’re a stubborn bastard, but dogs can be trained.” Whumper lifted Whumpee’s chin, pressing a thumb into his neck.

“And dogs who can’t be trained, can still simply be used.”

/Please let go!! Don’t touch me! Please, I never wanted this!!/

“Help—“ Whumpee squeaked, his voice choked.

“You’ll never be more than a tool for another. A woeful creature who even made the choice to attempt human relations, and only learned about unrequited love instead.”

/What the hell??/

Whumpee’s heart sank.

Whumper knew nothing about Whumpee’s personal affairs. Whumpee had told him nothing, despite the beating, the flogging, the cutting… the violation of Whumpee’s most personal self.

There was no way for him to know any of this.

Whumpee screamed, trying to lash out and fight back as Whumper put a scalpel to Whumpee’s ribs.

“Please, no!!” He cried.

“Whumpee!!”

The room blurred, flares of light creating a soft bokeh of reds and golds. Whumper vanished like a phantom.

“Whumpee!! Wake up, come on.”

Leader.

Whumpee forced his eyes open. He had a splitting headache. After a moment adjusting to the light, he saw that Caretaker and Leader were on either side of his head, Caretaker pulling up Whumpee’s bangs and Leader adjusting the mask on his face.

“He’s- he…” Whumpee sputtered. “He is going to kill me!!” His voice was very hoarse, a deep, aching burn with every swallow and word. “Don’t touch me!”

“Shh, you’re safe.” Leader assured. “We’re all safe.”

Whumpee bit his tongue, slowly coming to with her voice.

Whumpee had absolutely no idea where they were. He didn’t recognize this room- they weren’t where they had been, and they also weren’t back on his island.

He looked at his hands, examining the limb wrapped in the tubing, the other casted and covering his fingers and wrist. He hadn’t been hallucinating that.

He took a weak breath, extremely shaken by feeling Whumper again.

“He wa-as here…,” Whumpee breathed. He placed a hand on his chest, grabbing at the equipment on his skin.

Leader immediately took his hand, pulling it down. Whumpee gasped, recoiling at the force.

“Easy,” she hummed. “We won’t let him get to you.” Leader stroked his arm.

He looked up, blinking through tears. His face stung.

“Please let me go,” he begged, breaking down into sobs.

Then, Caretaker was overhead. He was silhouetted by the glowing light. The sight of him stopped Whumpee’s mind in its tracks. His hair looked so soft, his eyes bright. He looked beautiful.

He smiled at Whumpee, placing a gentle hand on his ear. Whumpee’s heart fluttered. Why did Caretaker make him feel this way?

“I got you, man. You’re good. I got you.”

[kninewarrior]

Breaking News

@whumperless-whump-event day 21: Breaking News / “it’ll be over soon”

Cw: medwhump

The Unit was finally pulling into port. Thankfully, the team was quite experienced in navigating this southern ocean. Leader had put them back on steady course toward the closest landmass.

In an attempt to put distance between the stolen getaway boat and the enemy island, the Girl had gotten the team lost in the water. Her priority was to get as far away while the enemy was occupied with the fire overtaking the islet that she had set intentionally.

Leader and the Unit were immediately handling Whumpee, paying no attention to their course. This put them much farther north from their home island than they originally started.

The Unit had collectively decided to not dock within the jurisdiction of the Mainland; they still did not have the full story about how Whumpee had been captured or who exactly was involved. Between Leader and Whumpee both being prominent political figures and the war still freshly ended, it was too high of a risk to take to seek help from them.

Whumpee would not last the trip southwest to home, however. He was declining rapidly.

Instead, they sailed directly west, heading to an entirely different country where the Unit would seek refuge and medical assistance for Whumpee.

Caretaker stayed with Whumpee the entire time, sailing for four more days. He was terrified that if he left him, Whumpee would pass away. And, he’d pass alone. Caretaker didn’t know how to make any of this easier for Whumpee. He didn’t know what to do at all.

Leader would change the bandages on Whumpee’s body when they bled through, she would give him the medicine she could find in the supplies they had— in comparison to Leader, Caretaker felt increasingly useless.

They had now landed at the coast of the foreign land. Whumpee was still holding on as best he could, in his delirious state. Their supply had now run out, Leader unable to offer Whumpee any further relief.

Whumpee had started to panic at most touch, pulling away and crying in pain when Leader and Caretaker would try to adjust or move him. Caretaker had managed to wrap Whumpee in a kemono top, in an attempt to make him more comfortable to leave the bed.

Now, they were sat still in the water, waiting for Leader to return with bated breath. She had left to seek assistance from the port town, and it had been about an hour now that they were moored to the pier. If they wouldn’t help, Caretaker wasn’t sure if they had any backup plan at all.

Other, much larger ships surrounded the port, lighting up the water with a sparkling red glow. It was beautiful, and a welcome change from the deep black water. Caretaker wished Whumpee could appreciate it too.

Leader opened the door to the cabin, followed by Unit members equipped with a cotton stretcher and surprising Caretaker. He held Whumpee’s hand as they entered the room.

“Caretaker, c’mon, let’s get up ahead and make space.” Leader motioned with her arm. Caretaker hesitated, looking at Whumpee, worried, before taking his hand away.

The Unit members surrounded Whumpee, pulling his blanket back and lifting him onto the stretcher. Whumpee gasped as they did. All of the soldiers present had worked for Whumpee for some time now, but it was as if Whumpee didn’t recognize any of them, looking at them with darting eyes and a startled face.

Whumpee began to groan as he was transported from the cabin to the deck. Caretaker kept close behind, Leader holding him back.

The team moved Whumpee off the boat and onto a large wooden cargo cart waiting on the pier. The large transporter was pulled by beasts that Caregiver did not recognize; all of the surroundings here were very unlike home.

There were local medics stationed in the cart, immediately setting to work on Whumpee when he was set in the back. They put a mask on his face and pulled his kimono top open to place equipment on Whumpee’s chest. Whumpee was fighting against them, groaning and crying, calling out for help as he was moved and touched. His arms were held down, preventing him from thrashing.

Caretaker ran to the cart, trying to pull himself up into it. “Stop!!” He shouted. “Can’t you see you’re hurting him!! Stop!!” He wiped tears from his face.

They continued, pulling more equipment from bags in the cart.

Leader pulled him back by the shoulder. He ripped his arm away from her, reaching for Whumpee.

“He doesn’t know what you’re doing!! You’re hurting him!!” He wailed.

“Caretaker, enough!” Leader shouted, shoving herself between Caretaker and the cart. Whumpee was screaming now, calling for Leader.

Caretaker’s heart was torn from his chest. He turned to Leader, a fury in his eyes unintentionally directed at her. The Girl was standing by Leader, in her vandalized enemy jacket. She clung to it, looking quite shaken by the entire ordeal.

“We’re following them— but you need to quiet yourself down.” She shot back. Caretaker ground his teeth.

They followed the driven cart back to a beautiful storied pagoda, decorated with paper lanterns and landscaping.

Inside, Whumpee had been rushed to a separate room, out of sight. Caretaker tried to follow, Leader stopping him again.

“Let go of me! I need to be with him, Leader!” He pushed.

“Caretaker!” She shouted, shoving him to the side.

“You need to quiet down. This needs to be discreet; we don’t need any kind of attention on us here. We don’t need this news to get out. Do not make this worse for Whumpee, us, OR yourself. Do you understand?” She let go of his shirt. The Girl was wide eyed and silent.

He sighed, wiping his tears again.

“I’m sorry.” He said lowly. Leader softened as well.

“Let’s go get his bed ready for him.” She took Caretaker’s hand gently this time, put her other hand on the Girl’s back, and led the two down the long, elaborate hall.

“It’ll be alright. It’ll be over soon.”

[kninewarrior]

“What kind of General abandons his people in direct danger?

You are no General.

You are a pathetic lap dog.

Nothing but a groveling dog, trained on commands, and nothing more.”

Picrew

[kninewarrior]

Off This Boat

Cw: PTSD

Whumpee isn’t doing well after the team’s escape from Whumpee’s captor. Leader determined he will not last to make it all the way to their home island, and will have no choice but to stop in former enemy territory to seek medical help.

Had it been days? Weeks? Where were they?

Whumpee’s state was rapidly deteriorating. He couldn’t speak or move much more than turning his head, or lifting a hand.

He knew that Leader was present, and so was Caretaker. There were others, too, but they never seemed to come close.

Whumpee was in a consistent state of shivering, feeling himself covered in a cold sweat. A cool cloth was placed on his forehead, Caretaker and Leader taking turns to swap the cloth when it became warm.

His abdomen stung horribly. The sensation never went away, save for when Leader would occasionally inject Whumpee with a needle.

He didn’t know what it was she was giving him, but he trusted Leader beyond his life, and the drug usually offered him the relief of unconsciousness.

Caretaker and Leader stayed with Whumpee in this room the entire time. Caretaker would rest his head by Whumpee’s chest, and Leader stayed in a chair reading books and playing soft music. Whumpee didn’t know where the music was coming from, but it soothed him.

Whumpee opened his eyes, this time, to see both Caretaker and Leader standing over him. He flinched, spooked by their looming. Whumpee tried to curl under the blanket he’d been given, to realize the blanket was gone.

He tried to speak, a scratchy whimper the only sound able to come out.

“Easy, Whumpee.” Leader ordered.

She walked out of his line of sight. He heard rustling in the room, and voices at the door. Caretaker stayed with him, lowering himself again to be by his face. Caretaker reached an arm over Whumpee’s chest, gently pushing aside Whumpee’s bangs with his hand.

“It’s gunna be okay. We’re gonna try to get you more comfortable, yeah?” Caretaker spoke softly.

“You can trust us… you know that, right?” He paused, looking over at Leader who was still at the door.

“Whumpee,” Caretaker’s voice was shaky as he turned back to Whumpee.

“You know I’d never hurt you on purpose right?” He brushed a thumb through Whumpee’s bangs again.

/What…?/

“I just… I know you probably can’t understand me right now, but, man— I really care about you, okay?” Caretaker sniffed. “Like a lot. And I just want you to know that.”

Whumpee didn’t know what to think. His heart stung. Why would Caretaker talk to him like this; his arm around Whumpee like this? His body already ached. His emotions were still strong, and he felt a pit in his chest when Caretaker said those words.

Caretaker went quiet when Leader walked back over, moving his arm away from Whumpee.

“Whumpee, we need to get you clean and off this boat now.” Leader explained.

He looked down at his body. The bandages covering his would had bled through again, this time badly. He felt lightheaded and queasy at the sight.

Leader pressed a warm wet cloth to Whumpee’s face, pulling it across his skin gently. She moved down his neck, Whumpee tensing as she did so.

Caretaker turned Whumpee’s head to look at him again, beginning to tell the random stories he’d been telling Whumpee during this whole situation while Leader worked.

Whumpee heard water drops pouring into a container before he felt the cloth reach his chest and arms.

He hissed when the cloth ran over sensitive areas of his skin. He found a lot of touch to be painful right now; Whumper carrying out his tortures and experiments on Whumpee intruding into Whumpee’s brain over and over again.

Dressing the wound was excruciating. He felt Leader pulling at the raw skin, scraping that cloth over the ripped tissue. Whumpee moaned as she tended to his body, unable to stop anything currently happening to him.

Once Leader was finished, she pulled away and paused, letting Whumpee catch his breath. He wanted his blanket.

He heard the water wringing again.

“N-no…” he moaned.

“Whumpee, it’s us.” Leader assured before continuing over his body. He groaned loudly, the touch burning his skin and sending him into panic again.

“Please stop!! Stop!!” He hollered, his arms flailing into Caretaker as he twisted away. Caretaker didn’t move.

Leader stepped back. Whumpee was panting, trembling from the anxiety. He only saw Whumper’s awful masked face; felt his cold, apathetic touch violating his body.

He let out a scream, curling into himself.

“Please just let me go!! Please!” Whumpee sobbed. “I can’t — can’t do it anymore!!” He coughed.

Caretaker pulled away quickly. Leader sighed, unfurling Whumpee’s blanket and placing it back over him. Whumpee grabbed it, pulling it tightly around himself as if it were armor.

“Whumpee, we’re docking soon. We’re not home yet, but we need to get you to a hospital.” Leader explained. She left the room without another word.

Whumpee looked to Caretaker, who was standing frozen a little ways from his bed.

“Please,” Whumpee begged. “Just end it, please, I can’t…” he sobbed.

Caretaker knelt down by Whumpee’s head again.

“Whumpee, y’know I get it. But, you can’t give up.” Caretaker pulled one of the Unit kimonos behind Whumpee’s head, gently pulling him up to put his arms in the sleeves. He pulled the okumi of the garment over Whumpee’s chest, laying him back down slowly.

“Not yet. Now, let’s get off this boat, yeah?”