#CARETAKER

[jordanstrophe]

During a trade, how do you imagine whumper handing whumpee over?

I like to imagine whumper has a henchman take whumpee to caretakers side, as the henchman is trembling having to walk towards a seething caretaker.

Especially if whumpee can't walk and they're dragging them. 

[delicatewhumps]

desperate comfort.

“oh god, oh god, stay with me!”

“keep your eyes open! you’re okay! damn it, you’re okay!”

“i’ve got you, i’ve got you, i’ve got you, i’ve got you— it’s alright, i’ve got you!”

“i know it hurts. i know, honey, it’s okay.”

“it’s all gonna be fine, just stay with me, just stay awake, please!”

“i love you. i love you so much, whatever happens, just remember that, okay?”

“stop, don’t talk like that, you’re gonna be fine! i wouldn’t lie to you!”

[echoingalaxies]

One of my favourite things is Whumpee protecting Caretaker.

Caretaker does so much for them, is always there for them, helps them all the time. Caretaker has saved them in countless of ways, and would lie, die, and kill for Whumpee.

But now Caretaker is (even ever so slightly) threatened, about to get hurt, and Whumpee steps between them and the danger - despite possibly still being weak, despite not having yet worked through the previous horrors they've faced.

They would go through it again, and a thousand times, if it meant never seeing the haunted look in Caretaker's eyes Whumpee sees every time they glance at their own reflection.

[the-three-whumpeteers]

The whumpee was used to having nightmares, they were used to waking up in a cold sweat and trying desperately to comfort themselves- but they weren’t used to someone knowing. The caretaker just wanted to comfort their friend through it all, staying with the whumpee for a while, until they felt even a little better- they just wanted to be there for them. The whumpee just doesn’t know what to do with the change in routine, because the caretaker was there for them every time they woke up crying.

[of-word-and-weapons]

Thinking about a living weapon in denial that they were forced to do any of the things they did.

Living weapon- LW

Caretaker- CTR

"Handler didn't force me to kill that man, I chose to."

"What would happen if you refused?" CTR asked. LW didn't answer right away. CTR watched LW swallow subtly and take a shaky breath.

"Why would I refuse?" The slight warble of LW's voice was all the confession CTR needed.

"Do what I say or I'll hurt you isn't a choice. That's coercion."

The idea being that LW holds onto the idea that they had a choice, that they had autonomy in what they were doing. They've accepted that they're a bad person, that they're a villian and reject any notion that they were forced. They want it to be too late for them, they want to be too far gone to be redeemed, because they can't live with what they've done. They can't live with the lives they've ruined and hopefully if they keep going down that self destructive path they won't have to.

[ashdoeswhump]

Tws: dehumanisation, conditioning, abuse, intimate whumper, pet whump, basically just all the whumpy stuff that comes with pet whump and nonhuman whumpees

Animalistic and nonhuman whumpees hit just right.

Nonhuman whumpee with claws and fangs and wings and horns and fur. Does whumper tear these off? Use them to pin whumpee down? Slide a knife along them, not hard enough to pierce, but enough to draw blood, enough to hurt? Put them on display for their friends? Does caretaker know how to look after their nonhuman traits? Are they gentle, so gentle, with them? Do these things get in caretaker's way so they keep accidentally knocking it? Does caretaker preen whumpee's wings, polish their horns, trim their claws when they're too weak to do it themselves?

Werewolf whumpee who looks perfectly human most of the time, but who are constantly punished for the one night they don't. Does whumper keep them on a chain? Treat them like a dog? Make them sleep outside and eat out of a bowl without their hands? Keep them surrounded by silver at all times? How does caretaker deal with it? Do they find a way to keep whumpee calm during full moons? Are they forced to keep whumpee locked up every month for everyone's safety, whumpee's included? Do they give whumpee a blanket and a hug and some hot chocolate afterwards?

Avian whumpee who struggles with speech but can make other noises just fine. Do they squawk when whumper hurts them? Does whumper force them to sing? Feed them nothing but seeds and nuts? Keep them locked in a hanging cage? Keep them outside but chained down so they can't fly away? Does caretaker build them a nest out of blankets and pillows? Let them out whenever they want? Encourage them to fly, only for them to fall back to the ground and hurt themself because they haven't flown in so long? Bandage and heal their battered and broken wings?

What about whumpees who aren't nonhuman, but have had their humanity stripped away?

Guard dog whumpee forced to stay outside. Does whumper make them pace around the perimeter of their property all day and night without breaks? Punish them when they pause for even a second? Only let them sleep once or twice a week because when they're asleep, the place is undefended? Does caretaker have to train this out of them because the only way to remove this conditioning is more conditioning? Do they help whumpee rest? Are they so, so relieved when whumpee goes to sleep by themself for the first time?

Lapdog whumpee who's made to cuddle with whumper. Does whumper make them sleep in their bed? Have them curl up on their lap while watching TV or reading a book? Comfort them after or during punishment? Does caretaker have to learn what sorts of touch whumpee can and can't endure? Do they have to sedate whumpee anytime they need to carry them somewhere because they're too weak to walk by themself but starts shoving any time they're touched? Is it an upwards battle, getting whumpee to associate touch with genuine care? Or is whumpee so relieved to be out, or so conditioned, that they'd do anything caretaker asks without question or complaint? How long does it take caretaker to realise this isn't them healing, but the conditioning going on?

Living weapon whumpee who isn't allowed thoughts or morals, only obedience? Does whumper force them to kill people they know during training? Keep them muzzled and hooded to hide their identity? Punish them when their face shows what they're thinking or feeling? Is caretaker afraid or horrified or disgusted of them at first? Do they have to teach whumpee that they're a person and that they're their own person? Do they have to keep weapons away from them because whumpee will think caretaker wants them to kill someone?

What noises do they make? Do they hiss or snarl when they're scared? Let out a barking yelp or a squawk when they're hurt? Whimper or whine when they're nervous? Purr when they're happy? How much of this is taught and conditioned into them, and how much is natural? Are they afraid of making human noises, or do they wish more than anything that they could speak?

There's just so many possibilities with this trope, I love it.

[whump-galaxy]

An anxious whumpee snapping at their caretaker while trying to deal with a panic.

[isntthisblank]

mini whump prompt:

Pet whumpee being aquired by caretaker in whichever way suits your fancy. Said caretaker has an odd, unusual name however. Pet Whumpee, who’s not very knowledgeable about the world, thinks that when Caretaker is telling them to not call them master but instead call them by their name, they’re telling Whumpee to refer to them by a different title, from a different language perhaps.

[cravesunconditionallove]

Unselfish Hero Whumpee

Hero Whumpee waking up in a hospital, and the first thing they ask? "Are they okay?" in a hoarse whisper. Whumpee doesn't even open their eyes. They don't have the strength. They're in the hospital but first thing they think of is not them, but the others. Did they live?

Caretaker who has been by their side the whole time reassures them, "they're okay, you can rest now."

Whumpee relaxes, finally, that stress has been lifted off their shoulders.

Bonus if they panic when waking up, weakly trying to sit up, and caretaker has to reassure them and gently scold them to make them rest.

[lumpywhump]

"hey whumpee, what... what are you dressed up as? You're supposed to dress like something scary, not like a random guy..."

"It is scary. I'm dressed as whumper,"

"Oh whumpee..."

[i-eat-worlds]

I really need more caretakers rocking this type of fit:

[Image ID: A person wearing a medical yellow isolation gown, blue gloves and a mask. End ID]

[justbreakonme]

“Please… I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep. I’ll stand guard.”

“I thought you said it was safe here?”

“It is. But you don’t feel safe, do you?”

“…not yet.”

“Then I’ll stand guard, till you can.”

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

We all know about magical fatigue as a whump trope for magical overuse. Now I raise you: Magical euphoria.

Magic that feels good to use. It leaves the user dizzy and lightheaded, a giddy energy rushing through their entire body. It's enough to leave the most stoic whumpee giggling madly, to make the most obedient soldier go rogue. It's a power that ultimately, inevitably, controls its user.

Mages aren’t trusted to act on their own. They can’t be, not when each spell costs them their sanity. Not when, in a daze of manic joy, they’re just as liable to destroy the enemy as their allies.

And so they need a handler.

Imagine Caretaker in this situation. Forced to watch Whumpee throw themselves into madness, to turn themselves into an unthinking weapon under the demand of some uncaring general. Having to put aside their affection for Whumpee as a person, and analyze them as a tool.

It’s Caretaker who decides when Whumpee is still fit for battle. It’s caretaker who has to look into their dazed and distant eyes, blood dripping into a too wide smile, and decide if Whumpee has anything else to give.

It’s Caretaker who decides when they’re too far gone, when Whumpee needs to stop. And if Whumpee can’t, it’s Caretaker’s job to make them stop. Even if that means using force, even if it means hurting them, because letting them run wild isn’t an option.

And when the battle’s over, when Whumpee is either led or dragged away to the medical wing, Caretaker’s the only one brave enough to tend to their injuries. They wrap bleeding, scorched fingers without a word, the only sound being Whumpee babbling, mad ramblings. Caretaker knows they won’t remember any of this. They still talk to Whumpee anyway, soft, comforting words they hope will bring Whumpee back faster.

And when whumpee’s eyes finally clear, when their body sags with exhaustion they’re just now able to feel, Caretaker feels nothing but grief, because it’ll start all over again tomorrow.

[whumpy-bi]

Thinking about a rescuer/caretaker barging in and immediately softening when they see the state the victim is in—skittish, terrified, trying to get away from them.

The immediate softness and compassion of “No, no, I’m here to help.”

[martyr-inthedark]

Make your Whumpee tired.

Whumpees that have been deprived of sleep by Whumper, so much so that they don't remember how to walk in a straight line and can't figure out whether the recent appearance of little black bugs in their cell are real or a hallucination.

Whumpees that can't get a full night's rest. They doze off, only to be jolted awake by their own anxiety of not knowing when Whumper would come back. Perhaps they are awakened by phlegm-coated coughs induced by their illness. They are awakened by nightmares, or by Caregiver who is worried they may succumb to hypothermia, or by a thunderstorm, or the rough blanket scratching their open wounds, or so on.

Whumpees who pull all nighters to protect their friends or lovers.

Whumpees whose eyes burn when they finally can close their eyes. Whumpees whose muscles twitch, who can't stop yawning no matter how hard they try to stifle it. Whumpees with dark, glassy eyes. Whumpees who are slow to react or have a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Whumpees with throbbing headaches. Whumpees with brain fog and memory loss.

Whumpees who have been on the run and have over exhausted their bodies. Their muscles and joints continue to scream long after its over. Whumpees with extensive blood loss. Whumpees who are malnourished.

Whumpees whose survivor's guilt keeps them awake, wondering what they might have done differently, whether it was all their fault, or why they were the ones to live.

Whumpees whose bodies are in chronic pain or illness and who have to hide it, causing muscle and mental fatigue. They keep going with a smile until they collapse or pass out.

Whumpees who break down in tears, begging to be left alone so they can rest. Whumpees who sob when they are told that the bed in front of them is theirs to use whenever they want.

[thinkingofausername]

I love when the whumpee has to reinvent themself. No, you will never be the past you again, they are permanently changed by the trauma, but that does not mean death. You just have to find you again. The people who care about you might mourn, you might as well, but getting to know each other again can be quite interesting.