snaillamp

[snaillamp]

The Team is having a party to celebrate or unwind before a mission. They intermingle with other teams and civilians alike. Maybe it's out in a public square with an open-air bar providing drinks for the festivities as people dance to live music. Laughter and merriment fills the air.

Whumpee is shy or nervous so they sit out from the dancing, but enjoy watching everyone have fun nonetheless. An easy smile is on their face as they take sips from their fresh drink.

Something is wrong, though. As they imbibe, they feel the alcohol hitting harder than it should. Their brain is fuzzy and their limbs are heavy and hard to control. Their hand slides across the bar top and knocks their glass to the ground, shattering it.

Something is very wrong and Whumpee can feel it. Their eyelids grow heavier and they know they only have a matter of time to find Caretaker. They'll know what to do, or at least be safe with them.

Whumpee stumbles from their seat. People who see just think they drank too much but Whumpee is desperately trying to make it to Caretaker in time before they lose control of their body completely.

Maybe they make it to Caretaker just in time to stumble into them, but they can't articulate words, only whine pitifully. Or maybe they're intercepted along the way by someone who shouldn't be there...

[snaillamp]

whumpee popping sedative after sedative. they don't want to die - do they? - they just want to feel something else other than the constant anxiety and dread

[snaillamp]

Whumpee that doesn't expect anyone to care about them + Caretaker that is appalled that no one seems to care about Whumpee my beloved

[snaillamp]

Lost

cw: cutting of skin , PTSD , please mind the tags

Caretaker was right here. His voice was deep and sweet, though it was as if he was speaking a different language.

Whumpee tried to reach for him, but Caretaker felt a million miles away.

/Please, please don’t pull away,/

Whumpee felt a jab in his side, hissing at the sting. He turned to face the direction of the pain, the world floating behind like a snowglobe in his line of vision. He heard Leader say something to Caretaker.

Was it about what Whumpee had just told Leader?

“N-no don’t” Whumpee pleaded. He distinctly heard Leader swear. That wasn’t right.

He felt his body roll to rest on his side. He still felt extremely queasy and cold. Whumpee just wanted to curl back up under the sheet he was given and be left alone to sleep.

Caretaker took Whumpee’s arm that faced the ceiling and pulled it up over Whumpee’s head. He held it firmly in place there, one hand in his own, the other pressing on his elbow.

“Wh-why,” Whumpee was trying to speak, but it felt like he had a mouth full of molasses, like he couldn’t force words out of his throat.

“You’re gonna be fine…” Caretaker leaned in close to Whumpee’s face. He heard Leader curse again, loudly this time. His heart started to race again.

“Just… just look at … uh,” Caretaker was flustered. This was normal for Caretaker, though. It was Leader that was scaring him. Even despite the incredibly uncomfortable and confusing position Caretaker had put Whumpee in.

“That! Look at that picture there on the wall, it kinda looks like home, doesn’t it? That’s where we’re going, we will be home soon.” Caretaker rambled, suddenly interested in a wall painting that Whumpee couldn’t make out.

He jumped hard when a horrible slicing sensation pierced the top of his rib. Whumpee gasped, attempting to tuck his knees to his chest, only being met with resistance.

“Why!! Why!” He cried, twisting and turning to no avail. The slicing didn’t stop. He looked at Caretaker, who was still holding Whumpee’s arm forcefully straight above his head.

“P-please- please l-let me g-ooo-oww!!” He screamed, begging Caretaker.

/Why are they hurting me? Why are my closest people cutting into me the same way as Whumper??/

——————————————————————

Caretaker bit his tongue as Whumpee writhed in his hands. He wanted to vomit. Leader had ordered him to pull Whumpee exposed like this. They’d learned of a chip implanted into his skin that supposedly was sending their exact location to Whumper.

After scouring through all of the medical supplies that Leader could gather throughout the boat, she stood among the piles of equipment and apparatus. She had returned to the cabin with two of the other Unit members.

“We’re going to have to cut it out.” She said mostly to herself, before turning to face Whumpee with a scalpel.

Leader had actually teared up, examining the tool in her now gloved hand.

“Caretaker,” she said sternly. “Do not, and I mean, do NOT let go of him.” She ordered.

She placed the blade to Whumpee’s skin, Caretaker only now realizing exactly what Leader meant. Whumpee would have to endure this too; they had no choice to wait.

Whumpee was screaming, begging for Caretaker to let him go. Caretaker could only think to keep promising him they were heading home.

Leader was skilled, and within five minutes she was able to pull a small, square chip from under Whumpee’s skin. She quickly put four sutures into Whumpee, ignoring the thrashing each time she pierced his skin.

It was quickly over, but not before Whumpee’s eyes had rolled back into his head, darting from side to side. His body convulsed, and Caretaker didn’t know what to do besides hold Whumpee still.

He watched Leader grip the bloody chip in her fist, walk from the cabin, and hurl it overboard. She screamed as it flew into the pitch black night, swallowed by the ocean.

He lost sight of her when she walked away from the railing.

Caretaker turned back to Whumpee, who had now passed out.

He repositioned Whumpee to be comfortable again, placing the sheet back over him.

Caretaker rested his head on Whumpee’s bed, not letting go of Whumpee’s hand.

They were all lost.

[snaillamp]

I just absolutely love whumpees in rehab who are like “I don’t need help with that!” and refuse help then fall over because they’ve forgotten how to walk

[snaillamp]

LOVE a whumpee that calculates their advantages. picks when to make whumper mad or when to give in. knows just what to say to get under whumper’s skin and when they should fawn. too proud to quit tugging at their leash but too smart to invite punishment with a whumper who loves the game of seeing what they’ll do next. whumpee who knows they can’t get out but rattles their cage anyway. just a little. just enough to remind whumper what exactly they’ve decided to keep close.

[snaillamp]

immortality as theft (you have to steal life from something else) immortality as parasitism (there is something else inside You that is keeping you alive and you become less of yourself more and more the longer it stays in you) immortality as violence (everything is trying to kill you because everything is supposed to die and the universe will always try to find a way to right the wrong that is You) you understand

[snaillamp]

more rescuers and caretakers who have no fucking business being rescuers or caretakers let alone both. stumbling on someone else in worse shape mid-escape and deciding on a whim to drag them along for the ride. criminal seeing someone they weren't supposed to mid-job and making an impulse decision. caretaker finds whumpee huddled in their dingy safe house and has to figure out what the fuck a food group is. you get it.

[snaillamp]

"pick on someone your own size."

[snaillamp]

don't fight it

tw: restraints, mind control, drugging, parasites, captivity, possession

There's something irresistible about a whumpee being told not to fight it, to stop resisting...

Chained up or thoroughly restrained, being mocked by the whumper: "Why bother fighting? You're not escaping. You're just wasting your energy."

A slow corruption creeping up the whumper's body. They watch it progress up their arms and legs, they can feel it affecting their mind, whispering to them to let it happen, as the thought of being corrupted seems more and more enticing...

A lab whumpee strapped down to an operating table who knows exactly what sorts of fucked up experiments the whumper performs. A mask filled with sedative gas is strapped to their face, and the whumpee desperately fights to keep their eyes open so they aren't rendered helpless. The whumpee whispers in their ear, "Don't fight it, the drugs are winning. Just go to sleep..."

A whumpee who had thought they escaped, when a hand with a chloroform rag clamps over their face. "Don't resist, and it will all be over soon. You'll be back where you belong."

"You have to stop fighting them. Just kneel, call them 'sir', do whatever they want, and maybe they won't hurt us as much."

"There's no use in fighting them. I fought back just like you, and look what happened to me."

A vampire hunter caught by a vampire, all the fight and resistance draining out of them as they sink under the vampire's thrall, the stake falling out of their hand as they bare their neck in a daze

The whumpee is being possessed by a malevolent spirit, who keeps coaxing them to stop fighting their influence, aren't you so tired, wouldn't it be easier to give up and let me win...

"Your teammates aren't coming for you. They left you behind with me on purpose. You might as well give up."

[snaillamp]

#11

content: bad caretaker

“Can you shut up already?” 

The question rang out in the room and immediately silenced Whumpee, who was excitedly prattling on about their new hobby. They looked taken aback, then hurt. They averted their eyes, mumbling a little. “Um…”

Caretaker could barely believe they’d said that out loud. They were just so exhausted from work and all they wanted was to go to sleep for a moment, and Whumpee was talking so much— “Whumpee… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, I… Sorry. I get it.”

“No, no— I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“Um…” Whumpee nervously pushed a strand of hair out of their face, still not looking at them. “N-Nothing. It was nothing. I’ll let you sleep. Sorry for keeping you up.”

Caretaker let out a long sigh that turned into a groan, burying their face in their hands. “For fuck’s sake… I said I was sorry. Isn’t that good enough? Just continue talking already.”

“But you… you clearly don’t want me to.”

“I said continue talking. What don’t you understand?”

“Um… I…” Caretaker let their hands drop back down on the bed and looked at Whumpee, who was seemingly getting more and more anxious. This wasn’t going well. They didn’t mean for this to go so poorly. “I’d… rather not. If that’s okay. I’m just gonna go…” They stood up, ready to leave.

“Whumpee… Come on… I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine.” It clearly wasn’t. “Have a good rest.” They turned around and walked right out, gingerly closing the door behind themself. Caretaker let out a frustrated sigh.

“This is so stupid…” 

They should’ve gone after Whumpee, shouldn’t they? But sleep was calling their name so sweetly… It would be better to sleep first, right? It’d give Whumpee time to calm down, and Caretaker wouldn’t be so irritable. Yes, sleeping first was definitely the right course of action.

They yawned and turned over on the bed, getting comfortable. Ah, the silence was absolutely divine. They were out within the next two minutes.

And the next time they woke up, they were still in bed when they decided they just weren’t going to bring it up again. Nine hours had passed, surely Whumpee was over it by now. Why bring it up and make them anxious or embarrassed again?

The way Whumpee flinched whenever they called their name did not escape them, but then again… Whumpee had always been a little flinchy, hadn’t they?

[snaillamp]

characters that are just. flat. after it’s over. on purpose. refusing to show the scar tissue and determined to keep moving forward. curt conversations. dressing their wounds but not resting and eating without enjoying it. practical to the point of brutality. one foot in front of the other. if they can just be nothing they don’t have to be hurt, and if they aren’t hurt it never happened.

[snaillamp]

That one member of the team who's the most grumpy and angry and always complains about others and doesn't get along with anyone and really just prefers to be left alone...

But when the whole team is captured they are the first one to go "Leave them alone. Take me instead."

[snaillamp]

Some restraint prompts!

Hands tied together in front of whumpee's back or in front!

Hands put above whumpee's head. Right above? Spread apart?

Hands tied tight to the body.

All in a net (merwhump?)

Magically restrained in an invisible way. Compulsion, stunning, pain if whumpee tries to escape...

Ankles bound together with minimal slack.

Rope? Metal? Leather? Plastic? Some sort of sci fi or magical hard light?

Complex shibori style knots that're meant to be humiliating or simple and practical.

Completely unnecessary collars.

Chained to something! A wall? A throne?

Tight enough to almost cut off circulation?

Seemingly excessive amounts of restraints for someone small. Is it really unnecessary?

Tie up your whumper! Are they really defeated? What are they telling the supposedly victorious whumpee from their position of "weakness"?

[snaillamp]

we all know and love blanket burrito whumpees during the aftercare part but i have a more hyperspecific proposition to maximise the comfort - caretaker swaddling whumpee whole tight in a thinner fleece blanket (warmth, softness, lateral compression) and then with them like that, covering them with a weighted blanket on top (2x warmth, weight compression)

don't be shy, make that traumatised poor little meow meow sleep for 24 hours straight

[snaillamp]

Characters who are just small and scared and vulnerable on the inside, but it translates to harsh, strong and scary on the outside.

Their thoughts: "Please, leave me alone. Don't hurt me anymore, please don't hurt me."

Their words: "Touch me again and I'll rip your hands off and feed them to you."

[snaillamp]

i think you should consider shooting your whumpee in the head. hear me out

apparently only about 50% of gsw to the head are fatal, and another 20-30% have undesirable outcomes, which means you don’t actually have to kill whumpee. having said that, you could definitely also kill whumpee.

either it’s instant - a loud bang before they rag doll to the ground, gone forever - or it’s slow and drawn out, a long slog of IVs and respirators and beeping machines as the life gradually fades from them, all the surgeries in the world unable to help. both are delicious in their own way but there’s something about surviving a bullet to the brain (even if it’s just temporarily) that i find intoxicating

so first of all you have the sheer terror of seeing someone be shot in the head/being shot in the head yourself, because of course your first thought will be death. they’re dead, you’re dead, whatever; someone’s dead and everyone’s panicking. then you have the mix of confusion and relief when you realise that the gsw was not fatal, that whumpee is still breathing, and perhaps by some miracle even conscious. you’re so caught up in the borderline euphoric sense of relief that you forget that you/they have been shot in the head, and suffice to say, that’s not good.

because then comes recovery, which can go about a million different ways. some people have almost completely recovered from a bullet in their brain after like 3 weeks, and some people have slowly died. some (a lot of) people suffered permanent brain damage, and some people suffered permanent disfigurement, and those are two things i love. no matter what, though, whumpee is gonna need a lot of careful attention for at least that first month.

plus team has to try and not freak out too hard over seeing whumpee getting shot in the face