#sleep deprivation whump

[whump-kia]

this is your weekly reminder to work your whumpee to the bone. let their knees give out from sleep deprivation. have them collapse into the arms of a stunned caretaker, weak and held up at the elbows, trying to lift their head from the caretaker's shoulder with a shuddering breath and a mumbled apology. leave them helpless and with no other choice but to trust.

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 139

Every time whumpee was close to finally catching sleep the collar around their neck burst into obnoxious beeping and screeching. Now they lay their head in Caretaker's nap as their new friend works hard to get it removed.

[snaillamp]

Evil thought no. 26348

Okay, heres a whumpy idea I love but I've never seen before. That's why I've decided to implement it into one of my stories. If you decide to please tag me so I can see your work! Sooooo, what is it?

~Hypnic jerks~

What are hypnic jerks? Well you may have actually had one before. Have you ever been falling asleep and one leg just randomly kicks, waking you up? Maybe your arm flails, or even you feel like you're falling through your bed into the waiting void below? Well that's a hypnic jerk! We don't 100% know what causes them, but lots of people have them. They are exacerbated by things such as excessive caffeine usage and physical/emotional stress. (You can read more about it here)

✨Evil thoughts time >:)✨

Imagine you have a poor tired whumpee, who is on their 4th energy drink and 7th cup of coffee or whatever, they haven't slept in days. They are physically drained, emotionally drained and all they want to do is fucking sleep.

So, they finally get home and strip off their nasty work clothes. They have a wonderful hot shower, get dressed in their fluffiest, comfiest pajamas and curl up their warm, soft bed. Then they begin to descend into dreamland...

And riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight as they're falling asleep their leg randomly kicks out of nowhere, sending them tumbling from their bed and to the floor.

They can either pick themself up off the floor, crawl back to bed and try to sleep again, or they can just lie there and hope for the best. Maybe a caretaker hears the thump and comes in, finding the poor whumpee sprawled on the ground, dazed and confused.

And all they want is just. to. fucking. sleep.

~more evil thoughts~

[bloodshottears]

Whumptober Days 8 + 9 = Appendicitis

Raging fevers

Drenched in sweat

Uncontrollable shaking

Searing stomach pain, bad enough that Caretaker can barely touch Whumpee

Eyes glazed over/unfocused

Vomiting

Exhaustion, but whumpee can't fall asleep

Hospital whump, but is whumpee afraid of needles?

[whump-in-the-coffee-cup]

Whump Prompt #2

Previous Prompt

Whumpee is unable to sleep at night, and ends up staying awake for longer than they wanted. They get out of bed and head to the kitchen to have a glass of water.

Caretaker notices and meets with Whumpee in the kitchen, and provides them company. Maybe even offer to make themselves a midnight meal, or do something to put Whumpee at ease.

And Whumpee reluctantly agrees, letting Caretaker gradually help them get used to sleeping in peace again.

[a-class-attempter]

“Please… I’m so tired”

“You can sleep when you’ve given us the information we want.”

Villain groaned in frustration. It was getting hard to remember what the heroes wanted to know in the first place.

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

“C’mon speak to me. Do something”

First one from these prompts!

Second from these prompts :D

28. Exhaustion/Insomnia 29. Electrocution/Shock

I decided to combine these two >:) So take a bit of Soren whump! Set in his captivity arc with Kastor. The guy is not having a fun time. He has not slept for like a week. Btw tysm to @whump-in-the-closet and @soheavyaburden for beta reading this!!! Mwah I adore you guys <2

Content: Forced sleep deprivation, some hallucinatory stuff, shock collar, torture, cuts with a razor, stress position, whumper turned whumpee, captivity whump

Tagging: @whump-queen @another-whump-sideblog

—

Soren had much more time recently. Namely, time to think about what his life had become. Not that he was doing much thinking, actually. Concentrating for more than a few seconds felt like an insurmountable feat. He was far, far too tired to think.

Actually, time didn't matter much now either. Every second was just pure agony, occasionally interrupted by a shock from the collar locked tightly around his throat, a violent jolt that left him on edge, trembling, and painfully awake. He’d forgotten what it was like to not spasm and twitch all the time. He missed the days when his neck didn’t ache and burn.

He hadn't slept in…

He hadn't…

…

What was he trying to remember, again?

Soren curled up in the corner of the cold, cramped basement cell, trying to find a little bit of comfort and safety in the refuge of a self-hug. His misfortune seemed to have no bounds, though. He heard the sharp click of the lock that signaled the door was about to open.

Quickly, Soren adjusted himself into a kneeling position, wincing at the way the rough stone floor scraped at his knees. And he waited for Kastor, the warden, to come in with something new, something sharp, something that would hurt. He shivered, not just from the chill of the prison cell.

But the door never opened. Confused, Soren could only blink and stare at the heavy door and imagine what was happening on the other side, while waiting for the inevitable.

After what felt like hours of apprehension, Soren considered that maybe he'd just been hallucinating. That had been happening so much recently.

He heard a soft, melodic song in the distance, one that came from nowhere at all. This was confirmation to Soren; he'd just been imagining things.

Soren recognized the song. It really was quite nice, but it was a song that used to irritate him. Because… because it came from his former prisoner.

Mailys had always sung that song when she’d thought he couldn't hear her. Maybe it was comforting to her. But for Soren, guilt and shame rose in his throat at the memories, the memories of her screams that sounded so much like his now.

He collapsed onto the ground, worn out from just kneeling too much without support. And he buried his face into his hands and broke down into exhausted sobs.

Soren could fall asleep like this. His eyes fluttered shut…

And a painful, unforgiving jolt tore at his throat and pulled him away from blessed rest.

He whimpered and stared at the low, dark ceiling, resigned.

This… this really was all he deserved.

—

Kastor came eventually. He always did, and Soren wished he wouldn't, but now every visit meant a chance of getting this horrid metal collar off.

Soren was already obediently kneeling when the warden entered the cell, temporarily spilling the bright light of the hallway into the dismal, dimly lit room. The swinging of the door knocked a metal tray to the side, spilling water and half-stale bread. It should have been Soren's meal, but he was too tired to even crawl to the door.

His stomach twisted and rumbled at the sight of the dropped food. But it twisted even more seeing Kastor's smile. Soren shifted, tremors wracking his body. His shaking was exhausting, but it was even more exhausting to try to stop it, so Soren didn't even try to hide it. Besides, he knew that Kastor liked it… and then maybe he wouldn't hurt him as much and then leave. Or unlock the collar. Maybe.

No, that was too good for him. Soren was starting to doubt that it would ever come off.

Kastor circled Soren before walking close to the kneeling prisoner. He roughly grabbed Soren's jaw, pulling his head up to force eye contact. Soren winced and swallowed a whine. A sharp nail scratched the side of his cheek. It was more uncomfortable than painful, but Soren wanted Kastor to stop.

What he wanted didn’t matter, though.

Kastor's voice rang out through the cell, too cheerful and too loud. "Good morning, Espinosa~" He said, a laugh on the edge of his voice.

"Did you sleep well?" Kastor smiled, a sinister, genuine smile, and that made Soren tremble harder.

Why was he even asking this…? Of course he hadn't slept. But this was Kastor… and Kastor must like to see him like this.

That was good, right? Maybe he'd go easy on him today. Maybe Soren could have a little bit of hope. Or maybe Kastor was going to leave him in this miserable state of sleeplessness forever, for his own enjoyment.

It's the least Soren could provide, he guessed.

Kastor tightened his grip on Soren's face, breaking him out of his thoughts and making him cry out in surprise. The warden stared at him with an expectant look in his eyes and a thin frown on his face.

Soren was puzzled, trying to figure out what he had done wrong, what he needed to do, when it finally hit him. An answer. Kastor wanted an answer. What kind of answer did he want, though?

"I… I didn't re-really sleep, Sir…." He ventured, words slurring a little. Soren tensed up, nervously searching Kastor's face for any confirmation that this was the right answer.

Kastor started to smile again. That was better, not much better, but Soren would take what little mercy he could get. Kastor let go of him, and for that Soren was eternally grateful.

Kastor snapped his fingers, and Soren stared, a glazed look in his eyes. Kastor pursed his lips and snapped his fingers again, more curt this time. Kastor wanted him… wanted him to do something, right? What was it what was it what was it—

Soren's mind finally caught up, and he held out his wrists in front of him. Right. Right. This was what he needed to do. Kastor already looked annoyed, and Soren cringed. He would definitely be nursing a broken rib when Kastor left.

"Finally, you were taking forever." Kastor rolled his eyes. "Have you forgotten the rules, Espinosa? Do you need a reminder?"

Soren shook his head frantically. "No—no, no, I don't… I'm—I'm sorry… I'm really sorry—"

Kastor held up a hand, and Soren went silent. Kastor kept a straight face as he procured a pair of cold metal handcuffs from his pocket and secured them around Soren's scarred wrists.

He watched as the warden walked to the other end of the barren cell to let a chain down from the ceiling. Kastor strolled back over to Soren and roughly dragged him to the newly lowered chain by his cuffs. Soren could only barely keep up, the sudden quick movements too much for his weary state.

When Kastor let go, Soren slumped to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Kastor didn't give him a break, he only clipped the chain to Soren's cuffs and pulled on the other end.

A sudden jerk on his arms forced Soren to his knees and then onto the balls of his feet. He gasped and swayed, unsteady and unsure of how long he could keep himself standing. Hunger and fatigue had completely sapped what little energy he usually had.

Kastor sauntered towards Soren, and then out of his field of vision. The brush of fingers on his neck from behind told him where Kastor was standing now.

"This is going to be simple, okay?" The hand left Soren's cheek, and he might have heard the sound of a razor blade being unsheathed if the static in his head wasn't so loud.

"Just count." Kastor enunciated. The tip of something sharp traced a ghostly line down Soren's spine, making him tense up and shiver. "Each of the cuts. Only thirty, today." He said it like it was a mercy. Soren wanted to believe that it was.

"Though, if you mess up, I think we'll have to start from the beginning."

Soren winced. That… probably wasn't good. Thirty. Could he count to thirty? He had to be able to. It really was simple, so simple, if he couldn't do that, then he was just useless.

But he was so tired, drained of all his energy, to the point that he could fall asleep standing up—

Another horrible, horrible shock ripped a small scream from his throat. He would never learn.

Kastor chuckled and dragged the edge of the straight razor down Soren's back, making a short cut on his left shoulder. Soren flinched, but he made no noise.

A second cut, more sudden, more forceful, caused Soren's breath to hitch. He must have done something wrong. He felt like he was forgetting something.

Counting… counting, wasn't it? He let out a shaky breath and uttered, voice raspy, "O-one…"

The warden smirked and made another incision.

"Two…" The cuts didn't hurt that much, but they put Soren on edge, holding his breath, and waiting for the next one. But he'd been through worse. Though, everything felt extra horrible when he was lethargic like this.

"Three… f-four…" A pained cry escaped his lips and Soren shut his eyes tightly. He regretted that when the shock collar delivered a fresh jolt that made him shriek and twitch. Kastor laughed somewhere in the distance.

Soren kept counting, counting, counting the little bits of agony that Kastor inflicted. Warm blood dripped down his back, a depressingly familiar feeling.

"E-eleven," he whispered, waiting for the next cut. A fresh burst of pain bloomed on the small of his back, and he gasped.

Soren opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but…. he couldn't remember. A few moments of deafening silence passed. His head hurt, trying to remember, he needed to remember, what was he doing—

"Tch," Kastor chided. "Seems like we'll have to start back at the beginning." His fingers grazed Soren's neck, and Soren flinched away.

"Count each incision for me, Espinosa, and we'll stop at thirty. If you can reach it."

Soren whimpered, trembled, and pulled at the handcuffs despite how it hurt his wrists, but he couldn't fight back. He probably wouldn’t have the energy to, anyways.

Gods. Please help me. Help, please, Soren silently prayed in desperation, before chiding himself. No, no, it’s no use.

There aren’t any gods here, only a devil.

—

"Pl-please, please, please, stop, st-stop, stop…." The words tumbled out of Soren's mouth, disoriented and desperate. He was no longer sure if this begging was working, but it was all he could do.

Shallow lacerations littered his back, his stomach, and now his chest. They stung like hell, stained the pitiful rags he was wearing a fresh shade of red—but worse, they itched, burned, and it hurt and Soren just wanted it to end. It felt like he'd been standing for an eternity. Some time ago—he couldn't tell how long in the wave of agony—his legs gave out and he was left to hang from his wrists.

He couldn't feel his hands anymore. His arms felt like they were about to tear from their sockets.

Brightly colored lights danced in front of his eyes. He missed seeing colors that weren't red like blood or black like Kastor's suits, but the lights made him want to rest his eyes. And when he did that, the collar went off with a sharp bzzt and Soren was left with nothing but pain.

"I can't— I can't take this anymore, Sir, pl-please!" Soren croaked. He knew that Kastor was listening. What he didn't know was if Kastor would humor him or not.

A sharp pain near his collarbone. Fresh blood dripped from the wound, into the dozens of other cuts on his torso. What number was this? Soren couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything.

Soren let out a choked gasp. This… this was pointless. He'd be hanging here for as long as Kastor wanted him to because there was no way for Soren to win this game. Either Kastor would stop eventually, or… he would die like this.

Soren supposed that he'd welcome either outcome.

He lowered his head, as much as he could bear without cutting off his breathing, and stared at the floor in weary resignation. He just needed to wait this out. When it ended, then he could rest. Permanent or not.

Kastor kept making incisions, kept slicing him into ribbons, and Soren made no sound except some weak cries of pain. Soren didn't speak, even when Kastor dug the razor in harder, even when he delivered a punch to Soren's gut that left him breathless and swinging from the chains.

"C'mon. Speak to me. Do something." Kastor urged. He poked Soren in the ribcage, going right for the darkest bruise on his chest. Soren winced, but otherwise, he did nothing.

"Are you unconscious?" Kastor brought the razor blade underneath Soren's chin and tilted his head upwards. Soren stared at his tormentor with dead eyes through sweat-soaked brown locks.

Kastor cocked his head to the side. "Hmm…." He jabbed Soren's neck with the razor, and Soren flinched. "Are you going to be difficult, Espinosa~?" His words were tinged with poison.

Soren's eyes welled up with tears, and he broke down into more sobs. "No—no, I'm sorry…. I just—I can't, I can't… please…" His voice trailed off, just kill me on the edge of his lips.

He knew that if he asked Kastor for the release of death, that would be the one thing he'd never get.

Soren was trembling violently, sick with anticipation. He had no idea how this day could get worse. He knew that Kastor would always find a way to make it worse.

Kastor made another cut, inches away from Soren's throat, and he held his breath but kept silent.

"This game isn't fun if you're not going to play it," Kastor sighed. The warden pursed his lips, looking displeased. "Whatever. We'll stop for today," he declared with a wave of his hand.

Soren heard the sound of a chain unclipping, and suddenly nothing was holding him up. He fell to the floor, not even trying to catch himself. The impact was painful, and he'd have new bruises on his knees and chest, but his arms hurt so much less now and he didn't have to stand anymore.

"Have a break. But you're going to pay for this dearly, later," hissed Kastor. His words were dark and threatening.

Soren nodded, weakly. Every mercy had a price, he knew that well.

"Hmm… you know, I think I want you fully conscious for my next visit."

Fingers threaded through Soren's hair, roughly pulling him to his knees. His head was jerked back. Soren's vision was blurry and unfocused from tears, but he could make out Kastor's face and a flash of metal.

The click of an open lock rang through his ears, and the collar fell off.

Soren breathed a sigh of relief, cracked lips in the slightest of smiles. His neck felt so much lighter, and he could breathe so much easier. But most importantly, it meant that he could really, actually sleep. It felt unreal, like a distant dream coming true.

He stared at Kastor in faint reverence, and he saw the warden's lips curl into a smirk.

That was the last thing Soren saw before shutting his eyes and collapsing to the floor. He heard the sound of the heavy door opening and closing.

Soren curled up tightly on himself, and finally, finally, he fell into the black void of sleep.

—

AN: Hehehehe I love being mean to Soren :) this is very canon for him. btw. And this isn't even the worst shit he's gone through. God this was very awesome to write. Hope yall like it too <2

[whump-kitty]

So, whump idea! Whumping the whumpee before they go to sleep (and not a set "bedtime", that is important for the whump I'm talking about!!) to condition them to associate fear and pain/humiliation with going to sleep... and then as long as it's at least periodically reinforced, Whumper can just sit back and watch Whumpee sleep deprive themselves

[hurt-and-comfort-me-please]

Sleepless (Civil War Era Accurate) TW Hallucinations, Gore, Exhaustion, Death

Cecelia could hardly see straight anymore. She cleaned her spectacles over and over but the blurriness never ceased. The arches of her feet were on fire, every step as if she was stepping on broken glass. Her hands shook, skin chapped and raw from washing and surgery.

It was hard to comprehend, more and more patients were being wheeled into the church, the number must have grown to hundreds. Screams and crying echoed off the walls, the air smelled of metallic blood.

The church hall was packed wall to wall with soldiers, what was a death rattle and what was a groan of pain was beginning to blur. Cecelia stumbled down the middle row, weaving between stretchers and other nurses. She got up to the front, and was immediately handed the end of a stretcher to carry to a bed.

The stretcher carried a young man, maybe about 20, the poor thing had just had his leg amputated and had passed out from shock. Cecelia helped carry the man to one of the few open beds, pulling him onto it and checking his wounds. His stump leg was properly bandaged up thankfully, only a little blood seeping through the white bandages.

"Miss?"

Cecelia looked up at the man, but found him still unconscious. At that, a wave of feverish heat washed over her, her head feeling light. She gripped the side of the bed to steady herself, the walls swaying around her.

"Rach mne, iv dau shud," One of her coworkers said,

"What?" Cecelia asked,

"Ve munay nshut wirth his," she sighed,

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you," Cecelia rubbed between her eyes, focusing extra hard on her coworker's voice,

"The money isn't worth this."

Cecelia turned around, her fellow nurses were tending to their patients, their faces became obscured, features melting together until she couldn't recognize them.

The only thing that brought her attention back to focus was the sound of crying from the bed she was leaning on.

"Hello, sir." She stood up, putting on her bedside manner and ignoring the pounding in her head, "Are you feeling alright?"

"It hurts.." He cried, too weak to move much,

"I'm sure it does, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" She said, trying to focus her vision on his face. His scared, tear-stricken face. He too started to morph into something unrecognizable as a human, as if Cecelia were dreaming.

"Stay here, please," he begged, "Don't leave me!"

Partially relieved, Cecelia sat down on the side of his bed, taking his shaking hand in hers. The room was spinning.

"You're going to be just fine, soldier," Cecelia sighed, "I'm not going anywhere."

Slowly his weeping calmed, the adrenaline wore off and he fell into a restless sleep. It was the only thing Cecelia envied him for.

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

yeah actually my favorite whump trope is when the whump happens and the whumpee gets whumped and then there's whump

[whump-queen]

…sleep deprivation

tw sleep deprivation, self harm, general misery, death mention

give me a whumpee so sleep deprived that their entire body hurts— they feel the ache in their bones, every muscle weeping for a break.

whumpee pinching their skin to keep themselves awake, twisting until it burns, digging their fingernails in until they feel warm blood seep out, dragging and ripping until it’s caked under their fingernails.

they can’t let themselves sit down—they know they’d just collapse. but they’re swaying on their feet, staggering a little. they feel their legs shaking in protest with every excruciating step.

give me the brain fog, the confusion, the slurred words and jumbled sentences— the inability to keep more than a single thought in their head at once.

let the dull pain of thinking too hard wear them down.

let them run on empty fumes until they’re forgetting things as soon as they occur.

until all they can think is how tired they are— the exhaustion pressing in around their brain like a thick syrup, sticky and sinking in around them until theyre suffocating, breathing in poison.

so exhausted that they blink and realize they’re crying.

feeling like a dead man, for all intents and purposes, were it not for the way they’re still barely standing, muscles quivering with each labored step.

they know they’re bad for thinking it but—

at least the dead get to rest.

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 77

Caretaker assumed that living weapon whumpee doesn't require sleep. Today they happened to catch them sleeping, and began questioning everything.

[whumpster-dumpster]

"What are you doing out of bed? You ought to be catching up on some sleep."

"There will never be enough time to catch up on all the sleep I've lost."

[bloodshottears]

Interrogation Tactics

Brass knuckles (bonus points for heating the metal spikes up before using them)

Caturizing wounds (either to keep whumpee from bleeding out or as torture [or both])

Rubbing salt into the wounds (literally)

A good old beat up (try sedating the whumpee slightly so they can't fight back : ))

Electric shocks or shock collar

Withhold food

Withhold sleep

Withhold all human contact (if you have the time, it might take a few days of solitary confinment for the whumpee to loosen up)

Whipping

Knives! Deep cuts in the skin, paring away pieces of muscle, holding their mouth open and laying the knife against their tounge.

The old standby: get a hold of a friend, lover, treasured teammate, and threaten them.

Don't forget to keep their wounds clean! They can give you info if they die from an infection

[written-by-jayy]

Prompt #4

Masterlist

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Whumpees misinterpreting or taking too literally something caretaker says always gets me, but there's one specific scenario that I don't ever see, but it's been on my mind a lot lately;

Whumpee was kidnapped and has been held in a basement/prison/etc. for quite some time now. Months or maybe even years at this point. They've been severely injured (maybe by torture, failed escape, etc.) and finally they're being rescued. Only, the person rescuing them is a stranger (Caretaker). Not that Whumpee minds, at this point they just can't care. Anything is better than this, anywhere is better than here.

As their bindings are being undone, Whumpee's eyes begin to flutter as a wave of exhaustion comes over them. Caretaker notices this and they lightly tap Whumpee's face, "c'mon, I need you to keep those eyes open for me, alright? Stay awake, you can't go to sleep yet."

Whumpee, to the best of their ability, listens.

Infact, they listen so well that a few days into recovery, Caretaker notices how tired they seem.

"You alright there? You can take a nap if you need."

Whumpee looks at them in surprise as their eyes begin to well up, a slight, grateful smile creeping its way to their face. They begin thanking Caretaker profusely.

Confused, Caretaker questions them on their reaction and as they piece everything together, they ask Whumpee if they've not been sleeping.

"When you came for me, you said I have to stay awake. And I think I was good, I did good right?" They ask, proudly and excited to finally sleep.

Or they feel guilty and admit that they think they passed out a few times but they're so sorry and they didn't mean to, and they'll be good from now on, they promise!

Either way, Caretaker feels a combination of concern and guilt. They hadn't specified when Whumpee would be allowed to sleep, becuase they didn't think they had to.

They apologize to Whumpee and explain that that's not necessary and that it was a misunderstanding and miscommunication.

Idrk where it goes from here, so if you have any ideas, or you want to write something based on this, lmk or tag me! I'd love to hear some ideas!

[justbreakonme]

“M-Master?”

Whumpees soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts and into reality, where Whumpee was peeking around the corner to the office.

“Yes? Need something?” He tried to make his voice light, friendly, but noticed all too late the tear tracks down Whumpee’s face.

“May- May I ask for an indulgence, sir?”

“Of course,” he turned fully, now laser focused, a yes already waiting on his lips, “What would you like?”

“If-if you please, may I request a- an hour of-of-“ their voice faltered, tears starting again.

“It’s okay, sweet, it’s okay, you’re not going to be in trouble,” he coaxed, desperate for them to finish their request, “Take a deep breath, and just ask for whatever you like.”

They swallowed, nodding, and tried again.

“Master, may I request 1 hour without punishment?”

“Without- What?”

He had never punished Whumpee, ever. What did they mean?

“I-I know that you have been merciful- you have not punished me yet- I- I am sorry, I should not have asked, I am sorry Master, please forgive me-“

“You’re okay, hey, you’re fine, I just want to know what’s going on, alright?” he soothed, “So, you want a set time, without punishment? But- Whumpee, did something happen? Something that you think deserves to be punished?”

Whumpee frantically shook their head, crying harder now.

“Please, speak. You won’t be in trouble, I just want to understand, okay?”

“I-I know that- that I will fail you. I will always strive to meet your standards, but I know I will fall short and need to be punished,” Whumpee took a deep, shuddering breath, “But I haven’t yet learned all your rules, preferences, and standards… I- I have not been able to sleep for days, Master.”

He could tell that their courage was failing, and he couldn’t imagine how brave they were being to face him now… He was so proud of them…

“Oh…” it all made sense now, “You just want some time where you don’t have to watch your every move, right?”

Whumpee nodded, crying too hard to speak, and now he could see the deep circles under their eyes.

“Of course, sweet, of course…” he wasn’t going to punish Whumpee at all, he’d told them that already, but clearly they had a hard time believing that, “How about this? You go take a nap, and you’ll have no obligations or expectations till tomorrow at 10 am. No punishment, no worries, nothing. Just make sure you eat something, anything, for dinner and drink plenty of water, and get some sleep, okay? That’s all that I ask.”

He watched their face, hoping to have hit all the right notes, and for a sickening moment, they only sobbed harder.

“Th-thank you Master, thank you, yes sir, thank you-“ they managed, bowing deeply, their shoulders slumping in relief like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Okay,” he secretly breathed a sigh of relief, “Good. And thank you for coming to ask me, I’m very proud of you. You did a good job.”

Following the conditioning was also not ideal, but clearly ideal wasn’t an option at the moment.

Whumpee seemed to light up at the praise, a few breathless thank yous escaping but then they were gone, dashing away hopefully in search of food and water before a well deserved night of peaceful sleep.

After all, that was all they were asking for. A night of peace…

He sunk into his chair and let his head rest on the desk for a few minutes, before pulling himself together and writing down every detail of their exchange.

This might be the way to help them.